#posting this before we get an official first meeting in the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonstudios · 5 months ago

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fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat.

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other.

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh.

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs.

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too.

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything.

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama.

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t.

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it.

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body?

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on.

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again.

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking.

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now?

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently?

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well.

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body.

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction.

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile.

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off.

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though.

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction.

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened.

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head.

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much.

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier.

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood.

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw.

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds.

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants.

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie.

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss.

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy.

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you.

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?”

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.”

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take.

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face.

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others.

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling.

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly.

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him.

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips.

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing.

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much, but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

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gublerryswift · 3 months ago

Text

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x bestfriend!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds angst

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w2soneshots · 1 month ago

Note

Heyyy I saw your post about how u want George Clarke fan fics I have ideas for u 1 you can make a fake relationship 2 do one about friends to lovers what ever ideas you can do thank u

Just for show -George clarkey

words: 1.2k+

warnings: fake relationship trope, make out sesh.

summary: while a little bit tipsy, you ask George to pretend to be your boyfriend and when you tell him the benefits… he agrees, though obviously it doesn’t remain fake for long.

notes: in love with this trope atm so I got excited when I saw this🤭. Thank you for the ideas babe. I hope you enjoy!!🫶🏼✨

"George?" You asked as you sat next to him on your couch, a few alcoholic drinks down. "Mm?" He didn't move his eyes away from the tv as he acknowledged you. "You know how you've been complaining that everyone's nagging you about getting a girl and all my family's been asking when I'm going to get a boyfriend since I broke up with my ex?" That caught his attention and he turned to look at you.

"Yeah...?" He replied, curiously. "Do you think we should like- I don't know- pretend to be together?" That caught his attention and his head swiftly turned so he was looking directly at you.

"What- like, be in a fake relationship?" He asked. "Yeah. Obviously it's just an idea and if you don't want to-" "no, no!" He interrupted before clearing his throat, "I think it's a great idea."

After that night you made some rules... no kissing -obviously-, hands stay only on the middle of your back and torso, if you get with someone else the whole thing gets called off and... stay friends.

You decided not to involve your friends since you'd basically just be flat out lying to their faces and they don't really need to know anyway. The first official time you acted as a couple was at one of George's families summer barbecues.

His family knew who you were and that you were good friends with George but they'd never actually met you. So they were pleasantly surprised when George brought a girl to a family get together.

"Oh hi, it's so nice to meet you y/n!" His sister had greeted you kindly. You spent most of the afternoon with her, chatting. While George got to relax without the 'have you got a girlfriend yet?' question being asked every five minutes.

Though he was asked a lot about you, the usual "how did you meet?" to which which he answered truthfully since you had said that you were friends before 'getting together' anyway. He dodged some of the more detailed questions, to avoid you and him saying something conflicting to the same family members.

When you got home that night, after George dropped you off, you practically collapsed onto your bed. It turns out lying is much more tiring than you'd expected. George felt the same and was beginning to wonder what on earth he'd gotten himself into.

The next event was for your cousin's wedding. "This is gonna sound a little bit weird but could you just be more touchy tonight? I don't think my family will believe we're actually together unless it looks like there's some love there... you get me?" You asked as you stood in the bathroom of your shared hotel room, two beds... of course.

He nodded as he sat on the edge of his bed. "Got it," he replied quietly. Your brows furrowed slightly as you turned toward him. "Are you okay?" You asked softly, noticing he was acting slightly strange.

He looked up. "I'm good," he replied with a smile. "Okay... just- if you're uncomfortable with any of this then-" "y/n," he interrupted your rambling, "everything's fine. This is just for a little while to get them off our backs, then we can go back to normal. Right?" You nodded. "Right."

When you were fully ready you opened the bathroom door to see George standing in the middle of the room. Wearing a perfectly fitted dark blue suit which accentuated the glowy bronze of his tanned skin. You looked him up and down, not noticing that he was doing the exact same to you.

"You look beautiful." "You look great." You both said at the same time before bursting into laughter. "Thank you George. Ready?" You asked as you approached him. "Nope." He responded sarcastically. You chuckled. "You'll be fine, promise."

When you arrived outside of the gorgeous venue you were immediately spotted by your mother. George was quick to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers. You glanced down and then up at his face but before you could say anything your mother reached you.

"Oh darling! You look lovely," she cheerfully complemented you, pulling you in for a side hug. "And who is this handsome man? I wasn't aware you were bringing a plus one." She looked to George, whose face immediately went red from the compliment.

"This is my," you paused for a quick moment, "my boyfriend George." Her eyes lit up. "Boyfriend! Oh my goodness! This is the best day of my life. It's wonderful to meet you dear." She wrapped her arms around him. You stifled your giggle as he awkwardly patted her back.

When you'd taken your seats his hand made its way to your thigh. Your body lit up at the small, gentle touch. "It's just George. Your friend George. Stop it," your mind whirled.

"Is this okay?" He asked quietly with a slight twinge of nervousness in his voice, breath warm next to your ear. A small "mhm." was all you could manage. He nodded slowly and leaned back.

The ceremony was beautiful and quite relaxing. The reception is where you really had to play up to your little act. Though as the day went on it was beginning to feel less and less like an act. You were really and truly enjoying pretending to be with- "nope he's just your best friend... stop it."

Multiple family members, along with your cousin and her new husband, came up to you and you introduced them all to George. It was a little bit less awkward since you'd now both had a few drinks and felt tipsy, meaning the conversation was flowing far easier.

You looked at all of the couples up on the dance floor. "Let's dance," George said as he stood up, extending his hand. You smiled and took it. The both of you traveled over toward the music.

Just as you got up there a new song began playing, a slow song. He placed both hands on your waist while you loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. It felt so natural to be doing this with George. You'd always thought he was attractive, kind, funny and all around just a great guy but you were beginning too look at him a little differently.

As the night concluded you were happy with the fact that you'd thoroughly enjoyed your evening. As you and George left the venue, hand in hand, you were excited to get back to the hotel, take your heels off and sleep.

"y/n?" He stopped walking. Your hands had been connected for way longer than they had to be, your family were well out of sight, yet you didn't pull away. "Yeah?" You turned.

There was a beat of silence before he stepped forward, so close that you could feel his breath hovering over your face. "Kiss me," you whispered, so quietly you weren't sure he'd even heard.

His hand made its way to the side of your face. He looked for any sign of you not wanting this in your eyes, but he found none so he leaned in and finally connected your lips.

Your hands sat on his shoulders as he kissed you. The kiss was passionate and full of built up feelings. When you eventually pulled away from each other you were both breathless.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before you both breathed out a laugh. "Well..." you trailed off. "Not just friends," he stated calmly. You shook your head. "Definitely not just friends."

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feinzleclerc · 3 months ago

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F1 Alert | Formula 1

➤ summary :: Where you create an interactive game for Formula 1 fans, and become the new star of the pits.

➤ warnings :: a quick imagine, with prior development.

➤ word count :: 0.839 words

➤ masterlist | sportify

➤ Notes :: I had this idea because Swifitie fans know about "Swift Alert", which was a game where we bet on the clothes from The Eras Tour. So I wanted to bring this into the context of Formula 1.

Working on F1's social media was a daily grind, but you loved every second of it. Between creating posts, planning content, and keeping up with trends, your mind was always spinning, thinking of ways to make fans feel more connected to the drivers. Then, one brainstorming night, the idea hit: an interactive game where fans could bet on little details of the race weekends.

— What if we created something like a more elaborate 'Fantasy F1,' but focusing on the small stuff? Helmets, suits, celebrations... — you suggested, drawing curious looks from the team. — We could call it 'F1 Alert'.

After a few weeks of planning, meetings, and tweaks, the app was ready. It was simple: fans could make predictions about visual and behavioral items about the drivers before the GPs. Each correct guess earned points, which could be redeemed for virtual prizes or discounts on official products.

On launch day, you were nervous. Would it be a hit or a flop? It only took a few hours to get the answer: it was a phenomenon.

The app had questions that kept fans hooked, especially with the fact that those points were worth something.

— Leclerc’s helmet in Monaco: same as always or something special?

— Which driver will complain the most on the radio?

— How many drivers will retire from the race? And who?

The numbers didn’t lie. In the first weekend, a little over 70 thousand people signed up. And the drivers quickly took notice.

At the pre-GP press conference, Russell was the first to mention it:

— Did you guys see that app? F1 Alert? Are you betting on my training suit now? That’s a lot of pressure! — he joked, drawing laughs.

Next to him was Charles, who also smiled.

— I saw it too. Someone bet my helmet will have gold on it. — he made a confused face. — Gold? I don’t know if I’m that fancy.

You didn’t realize the impact would be so big until that moment. Seeing the drivers talk about something you created was surreal. But things got even more intense in the paddock.

At the Italian GP, while you were tweaking a post backstage, Pierre showed up out of nowhere behind you.

— So, you’re the one behind the app? — he asked, crossing his arms with a big grin.

You laughed, a little startled.

— It depends. If you like it, then yes. If not, marketing came up with it.

— Oh, I like it. But now I have to think of new helmets every week, because I don’t want the fans to get bored. — He winked before walking off, leaving you laughing alone.

The F1 Alert craze grew with each race. Fans’ discussions on social media were massive, and even journalists started mentioning the game in their reports. Some drivers, like Norris, began directly engaging with the fans.

— Do you think I’ll use a special helmet in Singapore? Place your bets on the app. — he smiled at the line of fans in the stands.

Meanwhile, you started getting recognized in the paddock. It wasn’t something you expected, but the drivers and teams now knew who you were. At the Las Vegas GP, Max Verstappen stopped you during a technical meeting with a rare smile.

— Just wanna know... Who was the creative genius that put “Max will smile on the podium” in the game?

You tried to keep your composure but ended up laughing.

— My bad. Sorry, but it was irresistible.

— Well, I hope no one bets on that. It’ll be money down the drain. — he joked.

The interactions with the drivers became more frequent, but the peak came at the last GP of the year, when the season had ended and some fans were satisfied with their scores on the game. And the burning question was whether the game would continue the next year.

During the final press conference, Daniel Ricciardo — who was making a special appearance as a third driver — decided to mention you.

— I wanna thank the person behind F1 Alert. Thanks to them, I’m already thinking about how to celebrate before I even know if I’ll be on the podium.

The cameras zoomed in on you in the corner of the room, as everyone laughed. It was the moment you realized how much your idea had impacted the world of Formula 1.

After that GP, you got nicknames in the paddock: “the pit star,” “the mind behind the game,” among others. And while you tried to stay grounded, you couldn’t deny that the app’s success had put you in the spotlight.

Now, you were more than just another face in the paddock. You’d built an incredible bond with the fans who always asked you questions like, “What’s the next update for the game?” and you’d made amazing friendships with some of the drivers. It was all like a dream. F1 Alert was just the beginning.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #imagines charles leclerc #charles leclerc #formula one #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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nathaslosthershit · 8 months ago

Text

Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)

Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.

It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…

You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind.

You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…

Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much.

Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.

It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend.

It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics.

While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore.

Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.

“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.

“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”

He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.

There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.

“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”

As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”

“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”

“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds.

Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth.

“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.

“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”

They were in for a long day of shooting.

Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.

Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.

“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.

“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”

“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.

He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.

‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.

You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.

‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.

Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.

“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/

Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.

The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.

Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.

Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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bernardsbendystraws · 3 months ago

Text

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

11: Playing with his Lightsaber

wc: 1300+

What did we have to lose? The more time we spent together, the less I could remember what was holding me back to begin with. It just felt good. I didn’t wanna stop to think anymore, all I could do was roll by each day, clinging onto his arm and blocking out my own thoughts.

It was an unspoken thing. Everyone knew we weren’t together-together, but they also knew there was something there that wasn’t there before.

Matt’s arm weighs on my shoulders comfortingly, pulling me into his side as we sit on the couch. It was a really good day. We had rotted in our matching pjs all day, binge watching stupid shows and just being close.

Manon had been hanging out with Nick more. It was no surprise when she came up the stairs after him, joining us on the couch and rambling on about nonsense.

“I’m talking to this new guy,” she announces. My eyes perk. A new guy? She hadn’t talked to anyone for a while.

“Can I see a picture?” I ask, frowning as she gives me a pointed look.

Matt laughs awkwardly, “Is he really that ugly?”

With a shake of her head, Manon starts to explain, “No. But, little miss stalker over there,” she glares at me, “-loves to dig more than she should.”

It was true. I would stalk the guys shamelessly, finding any and all flaws. Dating sore losers in the past led me to be cautious, especially with the people I cared about the most.

“I mean,” Manon puffs, looking around the room aimlessly, “-we could go on a double date if you wanna meet him,” she says.

My eyes squint towards her. It’s a set up. She wants Matt and I to take things further instead of just ignoring everything. Did she really find a new guy just to prove a point?

I’m surprised when Matt hugs me in closer to him. “We could. Do you, um…would you want to?” he asks, a quiet desperation laced in his voice.

Would it really be so bad?

I tilt my head to rest on his chest. His heart speeds up, drumming harshly. “I, um - I don’t see why not.”

The excitement radiating off of Matt is apparent. His heart speeds up even more, his lips planting a swift kiss onto my scalp as he hugs me in tighter.

I can feel his smile.

___

Our first official date and we were getting ready together. Unusual, but it didn’t feel wrong.

“Ugh. This doesn’t feel right,” I exclaim, tugging on my shirt as I stare at myself in the mirror. Nothing was fitting right, not even the couple of options I had brought over, thinking at least one of them would be good enough.

Matt comes up from behind me, nuzzling his face in the side of my neck while his hands gently massage over my hips. “I think you look pretty. What feels wrong?” he asks, letting his head rest on the crook of my neck.

I can feel his breath on my neck. His lips graze over the skin, a shiver of delight crawling over my shoulders as my skin prickles. What did he even ask?

“How about,” he walks over to his closet, I find myself missing the warmth of his touch, watching as he pulls out my favorite hoodie of his, “-this?” he suggests.

My lips curl into a smile. Matt hands me the soft fabric, his eyes softening as he looks down at me. The blue in his eyes seems so vibrant, so electric. I can feel something igniting in my chest just from his eyes staring into mine.

“But - we’re going on a date,” I point out.

Shaking his head, Matt starts to unfold the hoodie. “Doesn’t matter. You always love wearing this and I…well, I love seeing you in my clothes, all cozy.”

Effortless. It feels so effortless.

I don’t bother asking him to even turn around before peeling the shirt off. His eyes bulge at my appearance. My hand reaches for the hoodie, quickly pulling it over my body.

“I, uh…” He’s speechless. Scratching the back of his neck and clearing his throat, I can’t help but feel a tinge of satisfaction from his flustered behavior. I love being able to make him so… nervous. It’s a boost of confidence I’ve never seemed to get from anywhere else. At least not this intensely.

The doorbell rings. Right on time. I nudge Matt’s shoulder with my own, grabbing my bag as we both start to walk towards the door.

Manon is standing at the door, an unfamiliar man standing next to her with dorky glasses and a nervous smile. My eyes squint at the man before offering a small wave, “Hi, you must be Ashton, right?”

He swallows thickly, nodding as his cheeks paint with a soft pink. Oh, he’s adorable, he doesn’t even look like he could hurt a fly. What was she scared of with me stalking him online?

This really was a set up.

“Yeah, yeah, greet each other in the car, let’s GO!” Manon says, turning around and practically sprinting to the car - presumably Ashton’s. It’s not super fancy. What catches my eye the most is a sticker on the bumper - a Star Wars sticker.

I bet she enjoys his lightsaber.

___

“C’mon, you got it,” Matt whispers.

The feeling of his body caging mine from behind is comforting. I felt absolutely clueless, the sound of arcade games all playing over each other making it even harder to focus. This was the type of thing that made me anxious. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I couldn't seem to really care if I was doing it right or not - at least I was having fun.

“Yep, anddddd….” I hear his tongue click on the roof of his mouth as he helps me drag the claw handle to the dispenser. Watching the stuffed moose fall down into the hole makes my chest flutter with excitement. “There!” he shouts, hugging onto me from behind as the buzzer goes off.

For a moment, I forget everything and anything. No lingering thoughts of guilt or anxiety. It’s just us.

Ashton and Manon had already left a while ago. They were cute together, still freshly enticed with each other, but it was definitely apparent that there was a lot of hope for the future. Especially when she won him a Yoda keychain. It was adorable how his face lit up and the shyness faded enough for him to hug her tightly.

Matt hadn’t even let me carry my purse. He slung the bag over his own shoulder, not caring about the strange looks he got for carrying a ‘girl’ bag. His motive was frustratingly admirable. He wouldn't even let me have the opportunity to pay for something.

Although, he still was attentive. My chapstick had been slid into my hands every time I started rubbing my lips together.

Game after game, he made sure to help me, knowing I never really played them as a kid. I’m not worried about the stares from other people, wondering why a woman of my age didn’t know what game was what. All I’m worried about is how long this will last. How much time could we ignore the truth of the situation?

Hayden had already begun shit talking on his podcast. Rumors had already started, people placing awful comments on my posts. But, I just couldn’t find it in myself to care. Not when everything felt so perfect. So right.

“Wanna head home? Sleepover or…?” Matt trails off, pulling out his phone to order an Uber.

“Sleepover.” I answer

I should go home. I should sleep in my own bed, alone. Freshly out of a relationship and with the guy I technically cheated on with, but I couldn’t help it. This was undeniable.

It was irresistibly, perfectly wrong.

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mirrorball-leclerc · 4 months ago

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track seven - i don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming

series masterlist

WINTER BREAK 2023

ines_alonso, oscarpiastri, and charles_leclerc posted new stories

last night's gingerbread houses, 3 guesses which one's mine babysitting duties today 😁 watching bluey because according to the kiddos it's the show that reminds them of danielricciardo, for the record he does give off bandit energy, so i agree petite fraise is very happy at the alonso-leclerc-piastri home gotham's greatest protector is so cute, villains tremble before him

liked by lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, kellypiquet and others

ines_alonso first year hosting in the alonso-leclerc-piastri home this year in spain next year its monaco, trust me. p.s. charles is officially banned from stepping foot in our kitchen.

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial

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maxverstappen1 oh my god, what the hell did he do this time?

oscarpiastri the firefighters were involved this time max, that's all you need to know charles_leclerc okay, you people are being dramatic and i am not being dramatic ines_alonso THE OVEN WAS ON FIRE! THERE WERE FLAMES CHARLES! charles_leclerc you're being dramatic, there was no fire oscarpiastri the firemen laughed at you charles, there was a fire.

user1 two cats and charles leclerc? how the hell do they manage?

oscarpiastri i ask myself that same question every day charles_leclerc fuck you, i'm a delight ines_alonso except when we have to call the firemen because someone lit the oven on fire BAKING COOKIES!

user2 the matching pjs and slippers?? oh i'm in love with this trio

user3 inés, how did you convince them to get matching pjs and slippers?? i need tips on how to convince my partner

ines_alonso threaten to withhold sex, it does wonders user3 why didn't i think of that? fernandoalo_oficial i can read this... charles_leclerc what's sex? never heard that word in my life 😅 oscarpiastri what is this sex she speaks of?? fernandoalo_oficial watch your backs going into turn 1 in bahrain user4 peepaw, stop causing controversies, this is why they call you a war criminal

francesca.cgomes marry me and make me delicious treats??

ines_alonso meet me at the courthouse tomorrow?? pierregasly absolutely not! oscarpiastri now i'm thinking we should've had you and kika get fake married instead of charles and max charles_leclerc why are you always feeding into this shit? oscarpiastri why not?

user5 she has style and yet her partners always dress in the same skinny jeans and shorts

user6 oscar needs to step up his fashion style user7 charles needs to wear something that isn't those fuckass tiedye jeans user5 those jeans are a horror to humanity

alex_albon there is not a single thought behind those eyes, just like oscar

oscarpiastri stop slandering my name alex_albon tell your girlfriend to stop flirting with mine and i'll stop oscarpiastri carry on, there's no use in me telling her, she'll never stop

user5 nano living up to the chaos of fernando alonso

user6 i bet he knocked down the tree ines_alonso he did and the charles scolded him, it was quite hilarious to see

georgerussell63 why does honey always look like that?

ines_alonso like what? georgerussell63 lost charles_leclerc she gets it from her father oscarpiastri fuck you, she gets it from you georgerussell63 this was not about either one of you but i fear i may have just started a war

jensonbutton the wife is demanding to know where you got those slippers from

ines_alonso i'll send her the link in exchange for pictures of you in them! brittnybutton deal! ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mrs.button

ximena.gomez nice holiday?

ines_alonso i'm still mad at you but they're at each other's throats ximena, help me. pierregasly at each other's throats or in each other's throats? ines_alonso blocked and reported.

user8 wait, so they did get a place in spain?

user9 it looks like they did but it could be a rental for the holiday season? user10 honestly, i would love it they got a place in spain because that would mean the s*inz mafia can't get away from them even in spain use8 they can't get away from them even in sp

user11 honestly can't tell who i'm supposed to be more jealous of, inés for having two hot boyfriends or charles and oscar for dating inés

user12 charles and oscar because they have inés. i mean who gets jealous over the men? user13 all three?? user11 i think all three is the only right choice

FEBRUARY 1ST, 2024 AKA DIVORCEGATE

FEBRUARY 7TH, 2024 AKA GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_oficial and others

ines_alonso i've always looked good in navy 💙

tagged: redbullracing

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charles_leclerc words cannot describe how proud we are of you mon soleil. looking forward to racing against you next year! ❤ by ines_alonso

oscarpiastri so excited to be racing against you again sunshine. i can't believe we finally get to share the same tracks again, looking forward to it! ❤ by ines_alonso

patriciooward felicitaciones hermana! this is what you deserve and so much more, i can't wait to see what you do on the track! ❤ by ines_alonso

alex_albon INÉS JESSICA ALONSO, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?!

ines_alonso my middle name is not jessica alex_albon I DON'T CARE! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND?? AND I FUCKING BET MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN KNEW! maxverstappen1 I HAVE AN NDA YOU DIMWIT?! alex_albon I DON'T CARE?! THIS IS THE SHIT WE TELL EACH OTHER!!

fernandoalo_oficial no hay suficientes palabras para describir lo orgulloso que estoy de ti. te mereces esto y todo lo bueno que hay en tu vida. [translation: there are not enough words to describe how proud i am of you. you deserve this and everything else that is good in your life] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso papa, voy a llorar fernandoalo_oficial it's okay, i'm crying too

jensonbutton going to miss one of my favorite co-hosts, who else will help me terrorize the evil woman?? but congratulations baby alonso, glad your dream finally came true. ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso it's okay jenson, we can terrorize her post race together, i promise. and thank you, it means a lot 🥹

isahernaez felicitaciones pequeña!! te lo mereces, no dejes que nadie te diga algo diferente! [translation: congrats little one!! you deserve it, don't let anyone tell you anything different] ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso gracias isa! espero verte en una carrera pronto! [translation: thank you isa! i hope to see you at a race soon] isahernaez obvio! nadamas dime cuando y ahí estoy, tengo que apoyar a mi pilota favorita [obviously! tell when and i'll be there, i have to support my favorite driver] userxx i love the survived carlos sainz jr club ❤ by ines_alonso and isahernaez

sabrinacarpenter CONGRATULATIONS!!!

ines_alonso THANK YOU!!!

user14 wait, so who's the wag now?

oscarpiastri we're both her wags charles_leclerc we're just ken and she's everything user14 down bad, both of you

louieee BITCH?! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?!

ines_alonso I'M SORRY BABY!! I COULDN'T TELL YOU!! louieee I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!! YOU DESERVE THIS AND EVERYTHING GOOD IN LIFE!!

carlossainz55 wow, what a way to stab your own brother in the back

ines_alonso womp womp oscarpiastri womp womp charles_leclerc womp womp maxverstappen1 womp womp louieee womp womp patriciooward womp womp fernandoalo_oficial womp womp alex_albon womp womp jensonbutton womp womp logansargeant womp womp aussiegrit womp womp pierregasly womp womp sebastianvettel womp womp lewishamilton womp womp kimimatiasraikkonen womp womp user15 KIMI? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

redbullracing looking forward to working with you in 2025! ❤ by ines_alonso

user16 SHUT THE FUCK UP?! RED BULL RACING JUST EARNED A NEW FAN!!

user17 carlos sainz jr found screaming and throwing up in a ditch somewhere

schecoperez felicitaciones baby alonso!!

ines_alonso gracias checo!

taylorswift congrats little alonso 💙 ❤ by ines_alonso

ines_alonso I'M RACING WITH THE NUMBER 13 MOTHER!! patriciooward i'm begging you, be normal for once taylorswift that's a great number to pick 😉

user18 i bet oscar and charles are glad to have red bull in the house without seeming like traitors for going out and buying it

user19 bestie, what the fuck does that mean? user18 oscar once said he doesn't like monster but he does drink another energy drink (red bull i'm guessing) and charles just seems like he's hopped up on red bull 80% of the time. user20 those bitches love to drink red bull and you can't convince me otherwise

tkelce congrats inés and good luck next year!

ines_alonso i might be freaking out a little bit right about now but thank you! danielricciardo no inés, you must stand strong, go bills! ines_alonso i'm so sorry mr. kelce but my loyalties align with the honey badger tkelce okay? user21 nothing is better than someone like travis kelce getting involved in the world of formula 1 because these people are insane and he's not ready for their chaos.

kellypiquet congratulations, looking forward to spending time with you in the garage next year 🩷

ines_alonso thank you kelly, looking forward to terrorizing max with p 🩷 maxverstappen1 p does not terrorize me, you and alex on the other hand... alex_albon okay, so find other friends bitch. oh that's right, you can't!

pedri felicitaciones!!

ines_alonso gracias pedri!!

user22 all these people congratulating inés because it's what she deserves is making me tear up a little bit.

aussiegrit congratulations inés, there's no doubt you'll do amazing.

ines_alonso be honest, is oscar holding you at gun point? aussiegrit they're going to think i hate you ines_alonso jury's still out to be honest

lewishamilton it'll be an honor to share the track with you inés

ines_alonso thank you lewis, that means a lot coming from you

nicorosberg make sure you terrorize max for me

ines_alonso will do britney 🫡 maxverstappen1 i will wipe the floor with her nicorosberg i will destroy you on sky sports and will tell fernando exaggerating lies that you said about inés ines_alonso i just sit back and giggle at this chaos

danielricciardo make me proud baby alonso!

ines_alonso always honey badger user23 and this one goes to all the haters who were saying what about daniel? clearly he was aware of this and is fine with it. y'all are just misogynistic.

eliasowens congratulations kid, i might give you a lot of shit for stealing my kids but you deserve this, don't let lord voldemort ruin this for you

ines_alonso elias, i love your kids, jury's still out on you but thanks. eliasowens you suck sometimes inés

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt // @brakingboundaries

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @◇Heart- Trees◇ //@michelleyw81 // @mgmoore //

¡leclerc-s speaks!

𝜗𝜚 i hope all of you that celebrate christmas had a great one, this was originally supposed to go up yesterday but i forgot to post it.

𝜗𝜚 and yes, this is 100% what the poll i posted ages ago was about, so writing this part, that deals with 2024 preseason is insane to me because the 2024 season was just so chaotic and heartbreaking. i am so not ready to write out logan and daniel's departures, even writing this part knowing what i know about daniel and red bull breaks my heart. plus even though it's a fanfic i don't feel good about this plot point and me just blatantly putting yuki to the side this way. i know why he didn't get the red bull seat but i have every right to be upset about it either way and i will be for a while.

¡disclaimer! 𝜗𝜚 this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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rcklessheavn · 2 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫 ── ★ ˙🏎️ ̟ !!

f1 driver!matt x influencer!reader au

summary: after influencer!reader is invited to give interviews at the grand prix event, she meets matt and everything changes for both of them.

intro pt1 pt2 pt. 3 pt.4

warning: none

wc: 2.2k

note: i know ive taken so long but i am new to the F1 world and really really wanted to educate myself properly, so i am now writing as a fan!!! i still have a lot to learn so bare with me :)

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ༉‧₊˚.

Three knocks on your door jolted you awake. For a moment, you couldn’t remember where you were—or why you were sleeping on what felt like a giant marshmallow. Seriously, this bed was the perfect level of comfort for any mortal human.

“Y/N! If you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late for practice!” Hailey’s voice came through the door, sharp and urgent.

“No, Mom, I don’t have practice today. Remember?” you mumbled into your pillow, clearly still half-asleep. But then your alarm—set the night before—blared, dragging you back to reality.

You jumped up with a start, just as Hailey knocked twice more, her hand poised for a third. You scrambled to open the door. “Sorry, sorry! In my defense, I did set an alarm... and woke up.” You flashed her an innocent smile, but she just rolled her eyes. Clearly, this wasn’t her first rodeo with you—which was exactly why you loved her so much.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, unfazed. “Now, we’ve got practice and an official paddock tour, but first—breakfast. Get ready. Chop chop!” She clapped her hands for added drama.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you made your way to the bathroom for a shower.

The first time you stepped into this suite, it felt like you’d walked into a palace. Everything was so elegant, so delicate—it practically screamed luxury. Even the toilet paper felt like it cost a fortune, and that’s no easy feat. You couldn’t believe you were here, experiencing all of this. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you were going to make the most of it.

“Okay, I’m done!” you called as you emerged from the bathroom, fully ready to face the day. Makeup done, hair styled, outfit on. You’d kept it low-key—just a casual yet cute look, with a Ferrari hat to show off your passion. No need to go overboard, since you weren’t expecting to run into anyone just yet.

“Well, that was faster than I expected. Eager much?” Hailey teased, glancing up from her phone, probably checking if the Uber had arrived (it had).

You just shook your head, chuckling. She knew exactly how to push your buttons.

You grabbed your phone and double-checked your purse. Wallet? Check. Charger? Check. Portable charger? Check. Camera? Check. Extra batteries and SD cards? Check and check. Tylenol? Check. Various lipsticks, glosses, and liners? Check, check, and check. Powder and extra blush? Check and check. You mentally went through your checklist, sure you hadn’t missed anything... until you froze.

The passes. You mentally smacked your forehead. Almost forgot the very thing that would let you experience all of this.

“Okay, ready to go?” you asked Hailey, who gave you a nod, standing up from the couch.

Time to get this day started.

Arriving at the paddock felt surreal. As you stepped out, you were greeted by the sound of a huge crowd of F1 fans. Polite smiles all around, you made your way through the crowd—but then, you heard your name being shouted. You turned and saw a teenage girl waving at you. You glanced at Hailey, silently asking for permission to approach, and she nodded.

“Y/N! Y/N!” the girl called out, her face lighting up.

You smiled and waved. “Hi! You know me?” you asked, surprised.

“Yes! Yes! Are you kidding? I love your content! I saw your Instagram post yesterday! I swear I’m not stalking you, I just happened to already have plans to be here, and somehow, I low-key manifested meeting you!” She spoke so quickly, her excitement palpable. “Is it okay if I take a picture with you?”

You chuckled, taking her phone. “Of course, we can!” You smiled. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m Emiliana,” she said, her bright smile warming your heart. “Thank you so, so much!”

“It was so nice to meet you, Emiliana,” you said, still smiling. “I’ve never had a fan interaction before. You’ve made this trip so much more special.” You waved as you walked away, and she waved back with a grin.

As you entered the paddock gates, Hailey turned to you with a proud smile. “Wasn’t that your first fan interaction?”

You took a deep breath and turned back to glance at Emiliana one last time. “Yes, it was,” you said, smiling up at Hailey. She pulled you into a side hug.

“I think Monaco is already changing your life,” she joked, and you laughed.

“Maybe I’ll end up on Vogue or something,” you joked back.

You both made your way further into the paddock, and you took a deep breath, pulling out your camera to film some b-roll. As you were filming, a woman approached you.

“Hello, I’m Claudia! You must be Y/N, right? And Hailey?” She asked, and you blinked in surprise. Then you saw her Ferrari badge, and everything clicked.

You extended your hand to greet her. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you, Claudia!” you said, a little too cheerfully, but Claudia seemed pleased by your energy.

“I’m with Ferrari,” she said, holding up her badge, “and I’ll be with you both this morning. Practice starts in 45 minutes, so we’re going on a quick track tour. Our car is waiting, so we need to hurry. After that, we’ll head back to the Ferrari quarters and watch practice. Does that sound good?”

Her words were like music to your ears. You nodded eagerly, and Hailey spoke up.

“Sounds perfect. We really appreciate it!” she said, and Claudia smiled.

“Is anyone else coming with us, or…” you trailed off, your curiosity piqued.

“Well, not really. Each team can select one to three creators they want to sponsor or collaborate with, and due to the connection with Matthew Sturniolo and his brothers—who have huge platforms—they’re usually on board for this. They come every year, so they know the drill.” She led you toward the car.

“So, I was chosen as the third creator?” you asked, a bit surprised.

“Yes, but not at random. At Ferrari, we focus on quality over quantity. We’ve been closely following your content, and your passion for our team really stood out. We knew we could achieve something big with you,” she explained, her tone formal yet warm.

Those words hit you hard, and a warm sense of pride washed over you. You had no idea what you’d done to deserve this, but you were certainly not complaining.

You walked past the garage where all the cars were, sneaking a quick peek. None of the drivers seemed to be around, so your body relaxed a little, saving the anxiety for when you came back.

Outside the track, the car was waiting for you. You climbed in, and the driver, Francisco, introduced himself. Both you and Hailey returned the greeting. You pulled out your camera and started filming for your vlog. The ride was mostly quiet, with Hailey asking a few questions here and there. You knew the answers to most, but you paid close attention to the ones you didn’t know.

Then Claudia spoke up, her voice cutting through the silence. “So, Y/N, why Ferrari?”

You smiled, leaning back a little. “Truthfully, I grew up alongside Ferrari. My dad’s a huge Schumacher and Vettel fan, so when race season rolled around, he’d make sure to explain everything to me and my brother. He thought my brother would be the one to sit down with him and watch the races, but to be honest, I was the one who never missed one.” You chuckled, reminiscing about your childhood. “My favorite movie growing up was Cars, so that probably explains a lot. Yeah, I guess red’s been my color since I was born,” you said with a proud smile. Both Hailey and Claudia smiled at you, and you were pretty sure even Francisco grinned.

As you finished your story, on your way back, you noticed the paddock approaching. Your heart began racing again, knowing that any driver could be there right now.

“Who’s your favorite, then?” Claudia asked as you reached your destination, getting out the car.

“Hard question,” you said, glancing up at her. “I really love a lot of them, but Charles Leclerc and Matt Sturniolo have really changed things for the Tifosi. Especially Matt. He has a talent and passion I admire—honestly, I’m surprised he isn’t a world champion yet.” You said it casually, trying not to sound like a crazy, obsessive fan.

“Maybe this year,” Claudia said with a knowing smile.

“Maybe,” you replied, walking past the Ferrari garage.

You had peeked at it before, but now, standing in front of it—knowing you were about to walk inside—it felt utterly surreal. Everything you’d dreamed of, being in a Formula 1 paddock in Monaco, part of the guests, all of it had come true in this moment.

“Shall we go in?” Claudia asked, coming up behind you with Hailey. Apparently, they were already buddies now.

Too afraid to say anything wrong, you simply nodded. Claudia led the way, starting her tour from the ground floor. You took a closer look at both Charles and Matt’s cars. They were even redder in person than you’d imagined. Claudia introduced you to the mechanics and engineers—everyone was so welcoming. The middle floor had the pit wall, with a slight balcony overlooking the track. Finally, the guest area was on the top floor, and, unexpectedly, there were two familiar figures sitting out on the balcony.

“And here I thought we were meeting later tonight,” you said, a little too confidently, to your amusement.

“OMG! Y/N!” One of the figures jumped up, meeting you halfway at the door.

“HI NICK!” you chuckled, embracing him. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“I know! I can’t believe we live in the same city and still haven’t hung out!” Nick said, laughing. He turned to introduce you to the person beside him. “Oh! This is my brother Chris. Chris, this is Y/N. I think I’ve mentioned her to you.”

Chris stood up and stretched out his hand. “Oh yeah! You were watching her this morning. Nice to meet you,” he said with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I love your brand! Big fan, not gonna lie,” you admitted casually, and Chris just smiled, clearly pleased.

“Are you excited?” Nick asked, giving you a spot to sit beside them.

“Yes, totally! It’s my first time, so I’m super hyped right now,” you said. Just then, you heard Claudia’s voice behind you.

“Hey, guys!” she greeted Nick and Chris, who waved back. Then she turned to you. “Y/N, is it okay if we leave you here with the guys for a bit? Hailey and I need to talk about some business things, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’m not in trouble, am I?” you asked, half-joking.

Claudia chuckled, shaking her head. “No, not at all. Just call me if you need anything,” she said, then left, leaving you with your new friends.

Before practice started, you decided to take a few pictures, handing your camera to Nick.

“Can you take some pictures of me?” you asked, and Nick’s face lit up, clearly excited. Photography was definitely his thing after all.

Meanwhile, on the ground floor, the two Ferrari drivers were getting ready to head out. They were bantering about who was better—Spider-Man or Batman. This definitely wasn’t their first time having this debate. Matt, bored of the conversation, glanced up at the balcony, maybe to wave at his brothers, but instead, he noticed a new figure posing for a photo. Nick was clearly assigned to be the photographer.

“Yo!” Matt said, playfully hitting Charles on the arm, clearly distracted. “Who’s that?” he asked, catching his teammate’s attention.

Charles turned to look where Matt was pointing and shrugged. “I don’t know, probably just one of those influencers they invite every year,” he muttered.

Matt sighed, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “She’s wearing a Ferrari hat.” He paused. “Do you think she’s a fan?” He tried to mask the excitement in his voice, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed him.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe she’s wearing it for promo or just as a benefit for her,” Charles shrugged, sounding uninterested.

Matt let out a disappointed sigh but kept it to himself. He wasn’t one to show his emotions so easily.

Charles looked at him, lifting an eyebrow in playful teasing. “Are you interested, Matthew?” he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Matt swatted Charles’s hand away, rolling his eyes. “No. Why? Are you?” he shot back, his tone light but challenging.

“No, bro, I’m taken,” Charles laughed, stepping back toward his car to get ready. “You should be too,” he shouted over his shoulder, still chuckling.

The sound of Charles’s shout made you turn around, and in that split second, your eyes met Matt’s. You felt a jolt of nervousness before quickly turning back to your conversation with Nick.

Matt held your gaze for a brief moment, a sudden rush of electricity surging through him. Racing cars were an electric sport, but this—this was something different, something he couldn’t quite explain. And he liked it.

“Matt, they need you now, you ready, man?” Nate, Matt’s performance coach, called from behind him, breaking the moment and making Matt drop his gaze.

“Very,” Matt responded firmly, shaking off the unexpected rush.

Chris’s voice pulled you out of the daze you’d slipped into after locking eyes with Matt for the first time. “Ready to experience your first F1 weekend?” he asked with a grin.

You sighed, smiling back at him. “More than ready,” you assured him, eyes drifting to the track ahead.

a story by rcklessheavn

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ series link

⋆˙⟡ tag list

⤷ authors note: ok this was wayyyy too long so i had to divide this, pt. 3 will be out sooner than this one was. i hope the length makes up for my absence!! thank you for your patience :)

@courta13 @matthewsroses @mattswifeyy @sturniolomatthewb @nessabarretswhore @nickmillersn1gf @mattslefttoenail @thecrawlys @tuttifruttixx @obsessedwiththesturniolos @period-queen1 @pair-of-pantaloons @b4by-hon3y @idkwhatthisis2009 @malsmind @matts-247 @baileysturnz @sturniololover1738 @emely9274 @stitchlover324

#۫ ꣑ৎ sports car by cam ۫ ꣑ৎ #༺ stories by cam ༻#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturiolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #rcklessheavn #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chratt #formula 1

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rey-129-fan · 11 months ago

Text

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location. Well, we are moving up in the world. That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is. And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose. There were voices in the background progressively getting louder. “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise. Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway. Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice. “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit. In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake. Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear. Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is. However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man. “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened. Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field. It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author. I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it. Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny! You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm! Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look. On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man. One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl. The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives. The man was a muscular blond. All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder. The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work. Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help. Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t. Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up. See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage? Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What? No! Kyle! Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn. This is some nice creature work! Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle! I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them. Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head. Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something. All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly. And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one. More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been. That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders. It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching. Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind. But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

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trickphotography2 · 6 months ago

Text

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 20

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 6.6k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 19 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 20

After the excitement of seeing Jake, the holidays could never stack up.

It took a little while to get back onto the time zone, and you dragged yourself through work. The post-babymoon blues hit hard, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, wearing Jake’s sweatshirt that you’d stolen and stretched too much to give back and wallow for the last few months of the deployment. But being alone at home gave you too much time to think. It was easier to try and focus on wrapping things up for the year instead of staring at your phone and wishing it would chime.

The war games had officially started, and Jake was on telecom blackout for three weeks.

Office holiday parties and the Daggers dropping by weren’t enough to keep your mind off what was happening in the Pacific. The adage of no news is good news kept being tossed around, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming about finding out that your husband died through an email about the Vigilantes requiring a new F-18 after theirs crashed into the ocean. Your recurring nightmare of Javy showing up with the Chaplin decided to play on repeat whenever you tried to sleep.

Irrationally, you started to hate it when your computer chimed to notify you of a new email.

At your first appointment with Dr. Shearer after Japan, you cried when she asked how the trip was. Guilt ate at you, knowing that your breakdown was making the appointment run long and putting her off schedule, but she didn’t seem to care as she hugged you and held your hand. Under her gentle questioning, you told her about the nightmares and pacing the house at night. About turning down offers to go out with friends and the baby shower your coworkers offered to throw you. How your parents were checking in on you more. And how you were so afraid that your husband would die before he got a chance to meet your daughter. When she asked you how long it had been going on, you just shrugged and said for a few months.

“Oh, honey,” Dr. Shearer sighed. “I know we discussed this before your trip - that doesn’t sound like baby blues. You’ve got a lot going on, and I think it’s time we discussed how you’re doing with all of it. Especially with your history of depression.”

“I thought it’d get better after I saw Jake,” you said softly.

By the time you left her office, you had a new prescription for an anti-depressant and a list of therapists who specialized in prenatal depression. When you tried to decline the medication, not wanting it to impact Sloane, Dr. Shearer assured you that they would have minimal impact on her, if any. “Sometimes you need to put your oxygen mask on before helping others, Mama. You’re just as important as your little girl, okay? And I’m sure your husband would tell you the same thing.”

That didn’t stop you from crying in your car before calling out of work for the rest of the day. After stopping at the pharmacy, you went home and put on Jake’s sweatshirt before spritzing his cologne on your pregnancy pillow and crawling into bed. A headache throbbed dully as you closed your eyes, dreading talking to your husband for the first time and telling him that you couldn’t even get through your first major deployment together without slipping into a depressive episode.

Jake had been upfront about his intention to stay in the Navy for as long as possible since you started dating. Which meant that you had many, many deployments ahead of you. Months at a time of being separated. And, irrational as it was, you worried what he would think of you stumbling like this on the first one. You never wanted to be a reason for Jake to worry. His job was too dangerous for his attention to be split, so you’d striven to keep how much of a toll his being gone was taking on you quiet. Put on a brave face in front of your friends, knowing they would report their concerns to him. They might have commented on you looking tired, but you didn’t tell them about your nightmares. And it was a convenient excuse for getting out of plans.

He’d put up with a lot with his ex, between her infidelity and worrying about seizures, and you didn’t want to force him back into that mindset. You’d reassured him time and time again that you were okay and that growing up with your dad on temporary duty for a year had prepared you for this. But being a kid, missing your parent, and being a wife missing her husband was different.

Things would be so much more complicated in the future when you had to take care of not only yourself but also Sloane, you thought as your daughter moved. Mom had made it look easy, juggling her job and raising you. But the last seven months had made you worry about what it would be like trying to do the same. A tear pooled in the corner of your eye and slipped over the bridge of your nose when you imagined going through labor without Jake there. You’d been purposely not thinking about it, hoping that some miracle would happen and he would come home in time. But the only reason you could think of him being sent home early involved him getting hurt, and you couldn’t selfishly wish for that.

A sob burst from your lips, and you buried your face into your pillow, hating the thought of letting down your husband and daughter.

The weekend before Christmas, your parents flew in. Their visit had always been the plan, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief when you spotted them at the airport arrivals as you pulled into a vacant spot. After popping the trunk, you were out of the car and in Mom’s as Dad loaded the suitcases before taking his turn hugging you. Tears pricked your eyes, and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel like you were forcing a smile.

That lasted until you got home, and your parents realized you hadn’t done anything to decorate for Christmas. “I just haven’t had the energy,” you shrugged. Their exchanged look told you they knew it wasn’t just that, and their silent conversation made you miss Jake - knowing what your husband was thinking with just a glance.

It wasn’t surprising when Mom encouraged you to stop by the home decor store after going out for lunch. Neither you nor Jake had a tree - he’d bought a small real one for their visit the previous year, decorated with cheap plastic ornaments shoved in the attic somewhere, while you’d gotten rid of yours before the move. Mom was a Christmas fan and quickly took charge, leading you up and down the rows of trees until you picked out a pre-lit seven-and-a-half-foot tall one with artificial snow and pinecones. Dad loaded it into the cart while Mom led you to the ornaments, where you spotted a jet ornament and quickly grabbed it.

“Looks like an F-16,” Dad said, holding it up to examine it closely. A sly smile crossed his lips as he slipped it into his palm. “An Air Force jet - I approve.” That made you laugh, and you made a mental note to dig out the Air Force shirt your dad had gifted Jake last Christmas from the depths of his drawer - contrary to what he’d threatened, it hadn’t ended up as a tire rag.

They wasted no time getting the tree set up, and Dad went into the attic to get the decorations you’d purchased last year. And you managed to hold the tears in until you were hanging up the stockings, and Mom disappeared into the guest bedroom for a minute, only to return with one she’d made for Sloane. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to make you and Jake ones that say ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’” she smiled, “but let me know, and I can make new ones for you next year.”

Mom took a picture of you holding the stocking next to your bump before putting it next to the other ones hung on the wall. You snapped a photo of them all in a row and texted both to Jake. It went unread like the other messages and pictures you’d sent to his phone and email.

Javy came over for dinner the night before he flew to Louisiana to spend the holiday with his family. Without saying a word, you could tell he was relieved by the sight of the tree and decorations - he’d offered to get you a tree and put up lights, but you’d turned him down every time. You knew he felt guilty about spending Christmas with his parents and had pushed back his leave until your family arrived, which made you feel guilty. So you put on a happy smile and teased him all evening, especially when he opened the gift you’d labeled as from Sloane. Cackling, he held up the Funko Pop of The Godfather. Since your husband had officially asked his best friend to be Sloane’s godfather, he’d been quoting the movie nonstop. When you slipped and told him you’d never seen it, he forced a Dagger movie night.

No one had paid too much attention to the movie, more interested in swapping holiday plans and eating the snacks Javy had set out. Bob and Nat were traveling to see their families, and Ruben was going to spend it with his girlfriend’s family. When he found out that your parents were coming, he promised to swing by and say hello. Everyone planned to be back for New Year, and Bob offered to host everyone at his place. No one faulted you when you dozed off during the film, comforted by your friends' voices.

You had to double-check the next morning that you hadn’t dreamed of Bob saying he was happy to do so, especially since he’d gotten orders back to North Island with a report date in June.

So it was going to be a quiet Christmas with your parents. The only downside of their presence was that you felt trapped in your room when insomnia hit. On the first night they were there, you’d tried to sneak into the nursery only to have your dad come in and check on you. While you sat in the rocker, he lay on the ground and talked to you, catching you up on the mundane things in his life. Your eyes slowly closed as he spoke about advising the young airmen about their relationships but jerked awake when he snored. Chuckling to yourself, you shook him awake and sent him to bed before retreating to your room and dozed off.

Shit shit shit

Jake pulled up on his stick, climbing to evade the Korean pilot attempting to get tone on him. His jet felt sluggish, loaded to the max capability to safely land back on the carrier, allowing the pursuing jet a slight tactical advantage. He was nearing the decommissioned ship that they were attempting to sink with a prototype bomb, with the other countries playing defense to test their dog-fighting skills against the American pilots.

The first two weeks of the exercise focused on naval defense and surveillance, with the fleet practicing their maneuvers against allies. The pilots had been tightening their game plan for the mock attack and providing aerial coverage. The helo pilots had taken off with rescue swimmers to practice retrieving downed pilots.

As much as he would have enjoyed a dip in the Pacific, Jake didn’t volunteer for those roles. Even with the shark boats providing additional support, he didn’t want to do anything that would stress you out more.

The first few days of the fixed-wing planes being in the air focused on targeting and shooting down dud missiles and drones. It had been fun target practice, but Jake couldn’t help but note the younger pilots who needed more time in the simulators and didn’t hesitate to include them in his debrief with Mav at the end of the day. While the exercise served as practice for actual warfare, many young pilots hadn’t served in an active warzone before - they didn’t know what it was like to take fire or watch your wingman take a hit.

There weren’t many times that Jake felt his age in the cockpit, but at 36, he had over a decade on the new kids. He had two campaign medals and another for the Global War on Terrorism. He had two air-to-air kills. And he paid attention.

Word had come down that the Eisenhower had been extended for a second time due to conflict in the Middle East. If tensions continued, it wouldn’t be long until more carriers were sent to the region.

For the first time, Jake questioned how much longer he could do this. As much as he loved being an aviator, he loved being your husband more. Missing everything about your pregnancy was killing him. The exercise had distracted him over the last two weeks, but not being able to turn on his phone and text or call you was killing him.

To put it simply - Jake was homesick.

With Sloane on the way, he could only see his job getting further in the way of how he wanted to be as a husband and a father. He remembered being a kid before he knew what an asshole his father was and hated going to the dock to say goodbye. Walking away from you on the tarmac and getting in that taxi in Yokosuka had been torture - Jake couldn’t imagine having to do the same with his little girl.

“Nearing the target.” Rooster’s voice came over the comms, and Jake glanced down to see his wingman closing in on the abandoned ship towed to the middle of the ocean. Word trickled through the pilots, and the defense planes backed off, returning to their ships. While the exercise was meant to test the military capabilities, there was no way the government would have anything interfere with the testing of an advanced weapon. A helo hovered with a camera pointed at the ship, and a third jet with a WSO flew nearby to follow them as they dropped the bombs to get a closer look.

Jake quickly maneuvered into position. Rooster would make the first pass and strike to the ship's bow, with him hitting the stern seconds later. Mav was ready to launch in case they needed a third strike. After confirming he was ready and getting clearance from the boat that they were clear to proceed, Rooster called, “Sights on target. Locked…”

“Locked,” Jake echoed, the laser to paint the stern.

“Bombs away.”

“Bombs away.” Hitting the release, Jake forced the jet to scream past the ship, wanting to make sure he was out of the way in case of a malfunction. Gaining altitude, he followed Rooster as the other pilot circled back to the carrier, tipping his wing to watch the chain explosions on the ship. Fire shot from the sides before bursting onto the deck.

Grinning behind his mask, Jake radioed the tower and said he was ready to land.

They were one step closer to heading home, finally finishing the exercise.

“Ughhhh!” you huffed, throwing your tablet aside and running a hand down your face. It was almost 2:00AM on Christmas Eve, and your book annoyed you. For some reason, you’d decided to try out a holiday military romance. It wasn’t the best choice, considering the plot centered around a couple facing a deployment over Christmas, but the ending had you simultaneously jealous and frustrated.

The idea of the husband showing up on Christmas morning to surprise his family? Not likely. A deployment wouldn’t be wrapped up early just to get a servicemember home for the holidays. And if Jake ever lied about how long a deployment would be to surprise you… well, let’s just say that the guest bedroom would be his home for the time that he was supposed to be gone. Maybe other spouses enjoyed it, but you didn’t like the thought of being lied to and mentally preparing for a longer separation just for a surprise at the end.

After shifting the pregnancy pillow, you leaned against the headboard. There were few times you regretted not having a TV in the bedroom - when you’d moved in, Jake had put it in the guest bedroom at your request - but this was one of them. Sighing, you lifted your shirt and cradled your stomach, tracing the stretchmarks marring your skin. “It’s almost Christmas, baby girl,” you sighed. “And even though you can’t open your presents, you’re already spoiled. Grammy and Grandpa sent me to bed early to wrap presents. Even your daddy’s family sent you gifts.” You felt - and watched - your stomach twitch as Sloane moved. No matter how many times you saw it happen, the sight still shocked you. Her movements had been yours alone to experience for so long; now, others could easily see them, too.

“I know; I was surprised, too,” you sighed. The box was delivered to your doorstep late last night and addressed to Jake and Sloane. That had stung, especially seeing that it was from your sister-in-law, but you knew your husband would tell you that the estrangement with his family wasn’t your fault. “Your Aunt Lina sent you some stuff, and so did your Grammy and Grandpa Seresin.”

Seeing the wrapped presents from Jake’s parents had frozen you. While you tried not to think about the day that your father-in-law threatened you, it was hard to see reminders of it. You had kept what happened secret from your parents, not wanting to cause any stress, and had listened to your mom say how nice it was that the Seresins had sent presents while putting them under the tree.

Sloane rolled under your palm, and you sighed. That turned into a choked gasp when you felt your calf tightening into a painful knot. Grimacing, you pulled your leg up and tried to knead the muscle, but it didn’t improve. The tightening verged on the edge of painful, and you rolled onto your side, muffling your groan in the bedding.

A chime sounded, and you blindly groped for your phone. Another chime. And then a third.

Opening one eye, you stopped breathing when you saw that Jake was replying to the texts you’d sent during the exercise.

I’m okay with you painting the nursery as long as you’re not the one doing it. Ask one of the guys to do it after the holidays.

The truck isn’t that lifted. You’re just short. Can’t wait to drive my girls around in it again.

Mrs. Seresin, teasing me with a picture from our second date spot? Playing dirty, darling. I’ll get a list of things together for the box, but I’m almost out of aftershave and keep losing socks in the laundry here. Would you mind hitting the uniform store for me? My ribbon bar got bent, and I need a new one.

Glad the doc said Sloane’s doing great. What about you? How are you???

Damn, that’s a big tree. Making the house look like a home, darling. Wish I was there with you.

I love the stocking. Your mom did a great job.

Opening up your texts, you started to type and immediately saw a new message.

Are you awake? Why are you awake?

Couldn’t sleep, you replied. Clutching the phone tightly, you bit your lip and tapped your fist against the muscle cramp.

You should try

Tapping the voice note, you held the phone up to your mouth. “I’m dealing with a bitch of a Charlie horse right now.” Rolling off the bed, you gingerly put weight on your leg and moaned. “Fucking Jesus Christ, this hurts.” Tapping send, you waited a moment before hearing your phone chime.

Jake had sent you a voice note back. Tears welled in your eyes when you hit play and heard your husband’s voice for the first time in weeks. “Wanna call you so bad right now, but they’re making us all sign up for times to not overload the system. I’m gonna video call you tomorrow at eight in the morning your time. Wish I was there to help you with the cramp, darlin.”

A second voice note showed up as soon as you finished the first. “If we have bananas, go get one. And then I want you to get a heating pad or your ice pack and put it wherever you’ve got the Charlie horse, alright? Are you drinking enough water?”

A third. “Wait, can you get your parents to get you the stuff? I don’t want you movin’ around and fallin’. Shit, darlin’, I’m sorry I’m not there.”

After quickly saving the messages before they disappeared, you held up the phone and recorded your message. “It’s good to hear your voice, Tex. I miss you so damn much. I’m not gonna wake my parents up in the middle of the night to get me something from the kitchen when I can hobble over to get it. I think we do have bananas. But are you done with the exercise?”

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind,” Jake sent back. “Just wish I was there to get it for you. And yeah, the exercise is done. We’re getting today off, and then we’ll debrief before starting the trip home.”

Carefully, you limped out of the bedroom, holding onto the walls and furniture as you moved and cursing under your breath. Gripping the couch arm, you debated lying down and waiting for the pain to pass, but the phone lit up with another message. As tempted as you were to play it, you promised yourself that you could only listen to it back in bed. Your parents were such light sleepers that they would probably overhear the message, and as much as they loved Jake, you selfishly wanted to have some time alone with him.

Slipping the phone into your sweatpants pocket, you refilled your water glass and snagged a banana off the counter before retrieving an icepack from the freezer. The trip back to the room was even slower, the light from your phone wavering slightly. After depositing the items on the nightstand, you collapsed back into the bed and gripped your calf, whimpering as you dug your fingers into the knot and tried to massage it away. When the phone continued to vibrate with incoming messages, you flipped it over and saw that Jake had sent you five texts and voice notes.

“Are you getting the stuff, honey? Tell me you’re being careful. The last thing we need is for you to end up in the hospital because you tripped over something.” The humor was evident in his voice, but then he cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t joke about that. Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Then there were back-to-back texts asking if you were alright and another if you’d fallen asleep.

“Alright, now I’m worried, which is stupid because you’re probably fine. It’s, what, after two there? Hopefully, you just fell asleep and will make fun of me for this in the morning. Love you, darlin’.”

The next was a picture of him scowling at his phone as he lay in his bunk with headphones in, one hand behind his head. You felt your stomach swoop at seeing him, his face slightly darker with a tan and his hair falling across his forehead. His arm seemed bigger, and you wished that it was wrapped around you. The accompanying message read Frustrated that I’m not there to take care of you right now. Could use my magic hands on you to get rid of that Charlie horse.

That made you snort, and you sent your message, unable to keep the whine from your voice, “I’d kill for your magic hands right now. Didn’t mean to worry you, but I didn’t want to wake my parents up. Feel like I’m a kid again, sneaking around the house.”

Good, I’m glad you’re ok. And you love my magic hands. They’re really good at making you feel good in so many ways.

Still chuckling, you sent, “Yes, I do miss your hands. And your arms. And your lips and dick and legs and laugh and smile and all of you.”

You’re making me blush, darling. Good thing I’ve got my headphones in so Rooster and Fritz can’t hear you.

A voice message came in before you could respond. “Just realized I haven’t said Happy Christmas Eve to my girls. I’m heading to the mess for dinner in a minute, so I’ll sign off for now. I’ll keep checking my phone now that we’re not on blackout. I hope your Charlie horse is gone, and promise me you’re taking care of yourself. I love you and Sloane so much, darlin’. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love you.”

After making sure to save the message, you sent him one back. “I love you, Jake. Can’t wait to see you, too. Merry Christmas, babe.”

It took a long time to fall asleep once the muscle spasm ended. True to your word, you ate the banana and sipped your water while listening to Jake’s messages again, eventually falling asleep to him saying he loved you.

Christmas Eve was spent preparing dinner the following night, and Mom borrowed the car for some last-minute shopping. When she got back and asked for you to distract Dad, you decided to go to the hardware store and pick out paint swatches.

The store was a madhouse, but even that couldn’t take the smile off your face as Jake sent you texts throughout the day. For him, it was already Christmas, and he had the day off. Sprinkled through the messages about how much he missed you were snippets of what the crew was doing to celebrate the holiday, including pictures of trees in the mess and hangers. The highlight, however, was a video of Santa launching a jet that Mav piloted, wearing his own Santa hat stretched over his helmet. You showed your dad that one, and he begrudgingly agreed it was a cool tradition.

You saved a picture of Jake wearing a headband with elf ears, a broad grin on his mouth, as your new lock screen.

You felt like a kid that night, dozing off as your parents watched It’s A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story, a bowl of homemade popcorn on your lap. Eventually, you were sent to bed, where it was hard to fall asleep with the anticipation of speaking to your husband the following morning. It didn’t help that, to center yourself, you played Jake’s voice notes with the phone resting on your stomach. Hearing her father’s voice, Sloane became more active and calmed down when you moved the phone to your pillow. You slept fitfully, waking with a jolt from dreams of missing the call.

The anticipation reached a height on Christmas morning. Your eyes strayed to the phone every few seconds, even though you knew there were hours before Jake would call. You kept glancing at the time while eating breakfast and drinking your only cup of coffee for the day. Knowing you were distracted, your parents didn’t push opening stockings or presents.

So, as the clock ticked closer to eight, your parents encouraged you to find a private place to talk with your husband first. Retreating to the bedroom, you settled against the headboard, squirming to get comfortable. Setting the laptop on your legs, you lifted your stretched-out sweatshirt and lightly stroked your belly, feeling Sloane’s head pressed against your side. “Daddy’s gonna call us soon, baby girl,” you said softly. “Are you gonna wake up so he can see you?”

Your alarm went off at 7:59AM, and you quickly silenced it before tapping the laptop to wake it. And, at precisely 8:00, it started to ring.

Jake’s broad grin filled the screen when you answered the call. Unlike the previous times he’d called you, you could see that he was in a room with other people, each with headphones on. He looked so happy, and, mortifyingly, you burst into tears at the sight of him. “Merry Christ… hey, darlin’ - what’re those tears for?”

“Sorry,” you gasped, wiping at your face. “Sorry, I just - ”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly. Through bleary eyes, you saw his brow furrowed. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just miss you so much. How was the exercise?”

“Great, it’s done,” Jake smirked. “Now tell me what’s making you cry on Christmas.”

“Jake.” He huffed your name, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I want this to be a good call, and we can discuss it later.”

“So there is something to discuss.” Your lower lip wobbled, and you pressed them into a thin line.

“Please?” you said softly. Jake’s playful expression disappeared.

“Darlin’, talk to me.” Though you’d promised yourself that this call would only be about Christmas, you told him everything. How Dr. Shearer had put you back onto an anti-depressant, and you had an appointment to start therapy in January. The nightmares you’d had about him dying before getting to meet Sloane. You felt like you were letting everyone down by struggling to get through the deployment, and you worried it would be more complicated once your daughter arrived.

“A-and I n-never want you to f-feel like you have to choose b-between us and your car-career,” you hiccupped.

“It’s never a choice, darlin’,” Jake sighed, fists clenching in his sweatpants. He wanted so badly to be home right then. “You and Sloane are my priority.”

“Nooo,” you groaned, pressing the sleeves of your shirt to your eyes. “T-that’s not the p-point. You shouldn’t have to c-choose just ‘c-cause I can’t handle my s-shit.”

Jake sighed your name, then repeated it in a firmer tone when you didn’t look at him. Lowering one hand, you peeked at him through your fingers. “Better, but lemme see your pretty face, honey,” he said. Groaning, you dropped your hands. “There’s my girl. I need you to listen when I say this again - you and Sloane are my priority. You two are always gonna be my top priority. So if you need to be on medication right now, and it's safe for both of you, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“Jake - ” you sniffled, and he shook his head, cutting you off.

“You’re being fuckin’ hard on yourself right now, and you need to give yourself a break, darlin’. This isn’t a normal deployment, honey. You’re not gonna be pregnant every time we do this.”

“I-I think…” Hiccupping, you shook your head. “I…” You clapped a hand to your mouth to keep the words going through your head for the last few weeks from slipping out.

“Talk to me,” Jake pleaded. You felt so guilty, seeing his heartbroken expression as you cried over what was supposed to be a fun call.

“I don’t wanna ruin your Christmas.” Groaning, he glanced at his watch and shook his head.

“Christmas is officially over for me. Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s finally hitting that I’m gonna have to do this alone.” Even as you watched Jake’s face fall, you couldn’t stop. “I’m so happy I came out to see you, but it felt like such a tease, and it was easier to get through this before I got to kiss you and have you be a part of the pregnancy.”

“Darlin’…” he sighed. You could see the hurt on his face, and it broke your heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, babe - I’m not… I’m not saying it right.” At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in your husband’s neck and hide, to feel his strong arms around you. “I-I…it’s been a fucking rollercoaster,” you choked out. “I’m so, so happy I came out there - please don’t think I’m not,” you pleaded, resting a hand on your belly where Sloane was still. “B-but seeing you and then not being able to t-talk to you was really, really hard.”

“I know, darlin’. It’s been hard for me, too, so I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for you.” And your husband, who always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better, was at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeated.

“At least it’s only for another month and a half, right?” you said, pasting on that fake smile he hadn’t seen in so long. Seeing what you were doing - trying to put him at ease - Jake only shook his head.

“At least there’s that.”

“Did you have a good Christmas?” His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, his green eyes piercing you through the screen.

“Darlin’, I’ll drop it for now, but we’re gonna have a serious conversation about this later, alright?”

“D-do we have to?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes. Absolutely.” His firm tone disappeared at the sight of you wiping your face, lip wobbling again. “I love you, darlin’. I had a good Christmas. What about you? Have you opened presents yet?”

“Not yet.” Grasping the out like a lifeline, you forced your voice to be bright. “Wanted to talk to you first. But Mom and Dad went overboard, and there’s a ton of presents under the tree for Sloane. Wanna see?”

For the next twenty minutes, you spoke with Jake and took the laptop to the living room. You knew your parents clocked your reddened eyes but didn’t say anything as they caught up with their son-in-law. Jake watched you open a few presents for your daughter - mostly clothes - before saying his time was almost up and that he was heading to bed. Your parents had you sit on the couch and open one of the presents to both of you - a glass ornament that read ‘Our First Christmas’ and your wedding date on it. You put it front and center on the tree.

You stepped into the bedroom to say goodbye and tried to reassure him that you were okay. “I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you too, darlin’. So damn much.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you - ”

“I’m not upset. Not with you,” he cut you off. “We’re gonna talk about it later, but for now, I want you to enjoy your Christmas and send me pictures, alright?”

“Alright.” Your response was quiet, and he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

“I just need you to be honest when something bothers you. I can’t fix it if I don’t know about it.”

“You can’t fix this, babe. You can’t come home early, and I can’t be there with you.”

“I know that,” he huffed before shaking his head again. “Later. I want you to enjoy today with your parents.”

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Jake. Sweet dreams.”

“Merry Christmas, darlin’. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The smile he gave you was strained as he lifted his hand, and then the call disconnected.

Tears gathered in your eyes again, but you took a deep breath and forced them away. You’d already ruined Jake’s Christmas call, and the last thing you wanted to do was make it awkward for your parents. So, pasting on that fake smile again, you tucked the laptop under your arm and went back to the living room.

Javy lifted a hand and flagged you down at the arrivals. You’d offered to pick him up, as his flight landed shortly after your parents left to head back to Florida.

After tossing his bag into the trunk, he climbed into the car and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I hate traveling during the holidays,” he grumbled as you twisted to look over your shoulder to see if you could merge.

“It’s pretty horrible,” you agreed, easing into the flow of traffic. Once you were on the road, he filled you in on his trip, chuckling over stories about his nieces and nephews.

“Oh,” he said, voice suddenly serious. “You and I gotta have a conversation, too.”

“About what?” you asked, eyes flitting over to him. Did Jake say something to him about your meltdown? After getting a flower delivery the day after Christmas, a beautiful bouquet of white and lavender flowers, you’d had a heart-to-heart with your husband about how anxious you were about going into the final few weeks of your pregnancy.

You’d officially hit 33 weeks pregnant. And, while you were happy that Sloane had officially shifted into the head-down position, her frequent kicks to your rib weren’t welcomed - especially when you were dealing with shortness of breath. Not to mention that sticky notes ran your life because you’d started forgetting things. Dr. Shearer had promised you that pregnancy brain was common and talked you through tips for dealing with it, but as someone who prided themselves on attention to detail, it was a tough pill to swallow.

It didn’t help that the website you read for advice suggested leaning on your partner to help manage the mental load.

The only benefit of the visit had been listening to Sloane’s heartbeat, which you had recorded and sent to Jake. He’d been doing his best to check in more often, texting and calling whenever possible. And the idea of him looping Javy into that was mortifying.

“You and I gotta make a plan for what happens when this one comes,” he said, motioning to your stomach.

“What?”

“Yeah. I told Mama that I was gonna be a godfather, and she knows Hangman’s deployed. So she was asking me who was gonna get you to the hospital. I told her it’d probably be me,” he shrugged, a self-conscious expression on his face, “and she and my sisters got on me about making sure I knew the fastest route and timing contractions. So yeah, we gotta make a plan so I can get them off my back.”

“Oh,” you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. You hadn’t thought too much about your plan to get to the hospital. Your parents had assured you that they would be on the first plane out as soon as you said you were in labor. “I…w-we can do that. My doctor suggested some classes to get ready for the birth, so I figured I would just go to those.”

“Great. Lemme know when they are, and I’ll see if I can get the time off.” Thankfully, you were at a red light and didn’t slam on the breaks.

“What?”

“You want to go to birthing classes?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, an awkward smile crossing his mouth. “I figured I’d stay with you until your parents got there. Unless you want someone else. Maybe Phoenix?”

“Javy,” you croaked, tears gathering in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry about it - it was a stupid thought. I’ll get you to the hospital and sit in the waiting room. You can just text if you - ”

“Send me a text, and I’ll send you the class schedule. I’ll forget otherwise.” A second later, your phone chimed with an alert, and you saw that he’d sent you the reminder. “You and Jake are gonna have to compare notes. He’s taking a first-time fatherhood class online.”

“Good. Now that the exercise is done, he’ll have more free time and can do that instead of harassing the other pilots about their shitty flying during the sorties.”

“That sounds like my husband,” you sighed.

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

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in getting this out - writer's block hit hard. This wasn't originally supposed to be so angsty, but Darlin's been holding back a lot to make sure that Jake can focus on work, and it kind of spilled out. But how freaking awesome is Godfather Coyote? Oh, and I based the exercise off this one.

Thank you to @dizzybee03 for the nudge I needed to finish this chapter today!

(If you missed it, I also posted a slightly spoiler-y blurb about D-Day earlier today. All head canons/blurbs are posted on the Masterlist.)

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please fill out my tag form here.

Read Chapter 21

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#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman imagine

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r0rysreid · 17 days ago

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Love the Wally fluff pretty please may we have some more 🙏🏻

alive!wally clark x theater!reader

so sorry i haven’t posted in a bit i got lots on my schedule, im trying to make a comeback!! anyway im pushing the wally x theater kid agenda with this one, its so short my apologies i had horrible writers block

wally was no short of obsessed with you. not in a creepy, stalker way, of course. but in a golden retriever missing its owner way.

he adored you with every sense of the word, his eyes always on you, ears perking up at the sound of your voice, face heating up at every slight touch. his gaze would never leave you no matter where you are, he’d always wait for you after school, no matter how late you were staying.

this was especially true when it was show time. rehearsals were coming to an end, after school practice was cutting closer and closer to midnight, the time you got to spend with wally was practically cut in half.

he took advantage of when football would drag on long enough for him to drive you home from your rehearsal, occasionally making sure to bring you food incase you hadn’t eaten since lunch, keeping extra snacks and a hoodie in his car for you.

he swore up and down he would be there for the actual performance, even getting there early so he could grab a seat close enough to the auditorium stage. he wouldn’t miss it for the world to finally watch you, he had been waiting for this for ages, he even bought his ticket the second they started selling them.

of course, he was there. sat in the second closest row, joined by your parents and friends filling out more seats. he chose the seat on the very end, so when the show was finally over he could be the first to go up to you.

he wasn’t paying much attention to anything at first, his eyes darting around a few times before focusing on a random prop in the middle of the stage.

him being there added to your nerves a bit, but it brushed over the second you had to get into character. every so often you’d glance into the audience and see him immediately staring at you, a look of awe in his eyes and a goofy smile plastered on his lips.

his gaze never left you until you were officially and fully out of view, leaving him missing you for the few moments you weren’t out on stage.

sure, he was being a total dork right now, but he couldn’t help it. he was always like this with you. you just looked so pretty up there, you can’t blame him.

after what felt like forever to him, the cast and crew took their bows and went to go greet family and friends in the hallway and auditorium, with him quickly jumping out of his seat to go find you before anyone could take your attention from him.

“babe!” he called out, walking over to you and leant down to kiss you cheek, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you into his side. “you did amazing.”

you couldn’t help but smile, hugging him tightly for a few seconds. “thank you, walls. i could practically feel you staring at me the entire time.”

he shrugged and rubbed your arm, looking over his shoulder to see your family and friends approaching, a sigh escaping his lips as he looked back down at you.

“they’re gonna steal you from me.” he pouted dramatically, earning a laugh from you. “i’ll meet up with you afterwards, it’s okay. just wait out in the parking lot for me. the cast is heading out for food anyway, you can just tag along.”

a smile quickly replace his pout, nodding before leaning down to kiss you, sighing against your lips as he pulled you in closer by your waist. he had to pull himself back before he started making out with you in-front of everyone—though who knows what would happen when he finally got you alone—, leaving you with a quick kiss on your head before walking away.

#my writing 𓂃۶ৎ #wally ―୨୧⋆ ˚#wally clark #wally clark x you #wally clark x y/n #wally clark x reader #wally clark imagine #wally clark fluff

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lvnleah · 9 months ago

Text

Welcome Home Rory.

nervous about posting this but here it is! I tried to make this as accurate as possible with the adoption process but I’m sorry if it’s wrong 💗💗

MARCH 2023

Beth and Viv always knew they wanted kids, it was something that had been brought up on their very first date. So when the conversation about having kids came up one evening, the two weren’t shocked or unprepared.

They sat together on their couch, Beth resting her head on Viv's shoulder. "Viv, do you still want to have a child?”

Viv paused the TV, nodding her head, “Yeah I do, why Mijn liefje?”

“I want to have a baby. I don’t feel like getting pregnant right now," Beth began, "With our schedules and everything, it just seems so complicated and I don’t think I could be out for longer than I’m already going to be.”

Viv nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I’d love to have a child right now but I don’t think I could handle pregnancy. What about adoption? I think we’re ready for a baby but neither of us is ready to go through pregnancy.”

A warm smile spread across Beth's face. "I've been thinking the same thing. We could give a child a family, it’d work out well too because we’ve got time at the moment to get to know them."

The couple had both been out with their ACLs for around four months now, just weeks between their injuries, so it meant that they had a lot of extra time on their hands.

Beth reached for her laptop on the coffee table, "Let's start looking into the process. We have a good support system, and I'm sure our families will be thrilled."

Viv squeezed Beth's hand, "Absolutely. We should also get in touch with an adoption agency. I know it can take a while, but I'm ready to start this journey with you."

The couple spent hours that night researching the different types of adoption, they never knew there were so many choices. They could adopt from foster care, internationally or privately. They settled on foster care, something that felt right for them.

The next few weeks were long and filled with lots of paperwork. In between their rehab, they filled out different applications and went through many background checks and interviews to make sure they were suitable to be parents.

Their social worker, Sarah, carried out many home checks to see if their home would be right for a child. Beth and Viv had never been as anxious in their life as they showed the older woman around.

“Thank you for showing me around your home,” Sarah smiled as she gathered her things, “I’ll be in contact within the next few days but I can assure you that you have a very loving home. The child you adopt will be so lucky to have you as their parents. I’m more than certain you’ll be approved.”

Viv and Beth exchanged an excited smile, “Thank you, Sarah.” Beth politely smiled.

They showed Sarah out before closing the door. Beth stood with her back to the door, an excited smile on her face before running into Viv’s arms.

“We’re going to be approved!” Viv grinned as she lifted Beth off of the floor.

A few days later, their approval came through and they were officially put on the adoption list. Days turned into weeks as Beth and Viv waited, their anticipation growing with each passing moment.

They continued with their rehab, trying to keep themselves busy, but the thought of their future child was always at the forefront of their minds.

One morning in late April, Beth's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the screen and saw Sarah's name. Her heart skipped a beat as she answered the call.

"Hello, Sarah?"

"Hi, Beth! I have some wonderful news. We've matched you with a little girl named Rory. She’s four years old and has been in foster care for six months after her grandmother passed away. Would you be willing to meet her?”

Beth's eyes filled with tears of joy. "Oh my gosh, Sarah, that's incredible! When can we meet her?"

Sarah's laughter came through the phone. "How about tomorrow? We can arrange a visit at her foster home, and you can spend some time with her."

Beth quickly agreed, and as soon as she hung up, she rushed to find Viv. "Viv, we've been matched! Her name is Rory, and we can meet her tomorrow!"

Viv's face lit up with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Really? That's amazing!”

The couple spent the rest of the day preparing for their visit, making sure they had everything they might need to make a good first impression.

They hardly slept that night and were anxiously up the next morning. They arrived at Rory’s foster home, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

Sarah greeted them at the door, leading them inside to a cosy living room where Rory was playing with some toys with her foster mother. She looked up with curious eyes as Beth and Viv entered the room.

“Rory?” Sarah called out, grabbing the attention of the four-year-old. Rory’s head turned around, “I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

Rory shyly walked over with her foster mom, her fingers in her mouth while her other arm held her stuffed teddy.

“This is Beth,” Sarah smiled, pointing to Beth, “And this is Vivianne but you can call her Viv.”

"Hi, Rory," Beth said softly, kneeling to her level. "I'm Beth, and this is Viv. We’ve been so excited to meet you."

Rory studied them for a moment before giving a shy smile. "Hi."

“Hi Rory,” Viv smiled, Rory’s face screwing up in confusion at Viv’s accent, “Who’s this little guy?” Viv asked, tickling the stomach of Rory’s teddy.

Rory looked up at her foster mom who gave her a nod, “Twix.” Rory mumbled shily.

Viv gasped excitedly, “That’s a great name! Want to know a secret?” She asked Rory, getting a small smile and a nod, “At home, I have a teddy! His name is Flip, maybe one day we can have a teddy play date!”

Rory nodded, jumping on the spot a little, “Yes, yes! Twix loves to play, do you like to play?”

Beth and Viv exchanged a smile, their heartwarming at how sweet Rory was, “We love to play!” Beth smiled, “What kind of stuff do you and Twix like to play?”

Rory’s eyes lit up and she thought for a moment, “We like playing hide and seek! Oh! And colouring, you like colouring?”

“We do!” Viv smiled, nodding her head.

“You colour with me now?” Rory asked, getting a nod from the couple before taking their hands into hers, “Okay! Follow me!”

They spent the afternoon getting to know Rory, playing games, and reading stories. Her initial shyness gradually gave way to giggles and laughter as she warmed up to them. Beth and Viv couldn't help but giggle at everything the little girl did.

As the visit came to an end, Rory clung to Beth's hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Are you coming back?"

Beth's heart melted. "Yes, Rory. We’ll see you again very soon, okay?"

Over the next few days, Beth and Viv started to spend more time with Rory, which eventually progressed into full days together. Once Rory was comfortable, they took her to the park, enjoying picnics and playtime in the sunshine.

One day, after a full day of laughter and running around, Rory fell asleep in Viv’s arms on the way back to the car.

“Vivi!” Rory tiredly called out, her grip on Twix tight.

Viv looked down at the little girl. “Yes, mijn liefje?”

“I’m so tired!” Rory whined, stopping in her tracks. “Carry me, please?”

Viv smiled warmly, kneeling so she could scoop Rory into her arms. “Of course, sweetheart. You’ve been such a busy little bee today!”

As Viv cradled her, Rory nestled against her shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay awake. Beth walked alongside them, her heart swelling at the sight of them together.

“Looks like someone had a fun day,” Beth teased gently.

“Yeah,” Rory mumbled, barely opening her eyes. “Best day ever.”

Viv chuckled softly, adjusting her hold. “We’re so glad you think so! What was your favourite part?”

“Swinging!” Rory exclaimed, her enthusiasm barely contained even in her sleepy state. “And the ice cream!”

Beth grinned. “You were pretty impressive on those swings. You went so high!”

“I want to go higher next time!” Rory declared, her voice growing softer.

As they drove back to Rory’s foster home, the quiet hum of the car was comforting. Viv occasionally glanced back to see Rory peacefully sleeping, Twix nestled against her.

When they arrived there, Beth carefully unbuckled Rory and lifted her into her arms. “Let’s get you into bed, sleepyhead,” she whispered.

Rory stirred slightly but didn’t wake. They rang the doorbell before tiptoeing inside, Viv quietly followed, grabbing Rory’s blanket.

In her room, Beth laid Rory down, tucking her in gently. “Sweet dreams, little one,” she said softly, brushing a stray hair from Rory’s forehead.

Viv stood by the door, watching with a smile before the couple said goodbye to Rory’s foster mother. The couple climbed into their care before making their way home.

Beth turned to Viv, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe how much joy she’s already brought into our lives.”

“She’s a little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?” Viv agreed.

Beth nodded, “It feels like we’ve known her forever.”

“Right?” Viv smiled. “I think she’s already starting to feel at home with us.”

Eventually, once Rory was even more comfortable she expressed how she wanted to stay overnight with Beth and Viv. Sarah, their social worker, quickly arranged the overnight stay, excited about Rory’s growing attachment.

The night finally arrived, and the couple prepared their home to make it as welcoming as possible. They set up a cosy corner in the living room with blankets and pillows, creating a perfect little nest for movie night.

When Rory arrived, she was bouncing with excitement, holding Twix tightly. “I’m ready for a sleepover!” she declared, her eyes sparkling. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“Absolutely,” Viv laughed, brushing a strand of hair from Rory’s face. “What do you want to watch?”

“Can we watch a princess movie?” Rory asked, her face lighting up as they headed inside.

“Of course!” Beth replied, already pulling out a selection of their favourite films. They settled on Rapunzel, a classic, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of music and laughter.

As they cuddled together under the blankets, Rory sat in the middle as Beth sneaked in some popcorn, handing it to Rory with a grin. “Movie snacks are a must!”

Rory giggled, “This is the best!”

After the movie, they moved to the kitchen to make their mini pizzas. Rory was excited to help, spreading sauce and adding cheese and toppings with careful precision.

“Look! I made a smiley face!” Rory exclaimed, proudly showing off her creation.

“That’s amazing!” Viv cheered, giving her a high-five. “You’re an artist!”

As they waited for the pizzas to bake, they played games and chatted. Rory shared stories about her favourite things, from her love of animals to her favourite games at the park.

When it was finally time to eat, the pizzas came out hot and bubbling. They gathered around the table, laughter filling the air as they enjoyed their creations.

“This is the best sleepover food!” Rory declared, her mouth full of pizza.

After dinner, it was time for bed. Beth and Viv helped Rory brush her teeth and change into her pyjamas. As they settled into the living room with Rory nestled between them, they read her a bedtime story.

“Do you like this one?” Beth asked, holding up a colourful book that Rory had packed with her.

“Yes! Read it!” Rory said eagerly.

As Beth read aloud, Viv brushed Rory’s hair back gently. Rory listened, wide-eyed and engaged, making them both realise how far they had come in such a short time.

When the story ended, Rory yawned and snuggled closer to Viv. “Can we do this every night?” she murmured sleepily.

Beth exchanged a glance with Viv, her heart swelling. “We’d love to, Rory.”

Rory's eyes fluttered shut, and soon she was fast asleep, a peaceful smile on her face.

As Beth and Viv sat quietly, watching her sleep, Viv whispered, “I can’t believe how quickly she’s become part of us.”

Beth nodded and soon Viv scooped Rory up before carrying her to the room they’d set up for her. They both tucked her in, leaving the door on a jar before retreating to the living room.

Later that night, they moved to the kitchen to clean up. “We should plan more activities for the weekends,” Viv suggested. “Maybe a trip to the zoo?”

Beth smiled, already imagining the fun they would have. “That sounds perfect. She’ll love it!”

After everything was cleaned up, they settled on the couch, before heading to bed and checking on Rory, who was still sound asleep. “I think we’re doing great,” Beth said, a mix of disbelief and joy in her voice.

“Yeah, we are,” Viv replied softly, taking Beth’s hand in hers. “And it feels incredible.”

Finally, a few weeks later, Viv and Beth were approved to adopt Rory and officially became her parents. When Viv and Beth told Rory the news, it was like Christmas morning.

“Rory?” Beth said, sitting down beside the four-year-old.

Rory looked up, “Yeah, Beffy?”

“So, me and Vivi were wondering,” Beth started, “Would you like to live with us? Like sleepover, every single night and stay with us forever?”

Rory's eyes widened, and she blinked in surprise. The question hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed like time itself held its breath. Then, with a radiant smile that could light up the darkest room, Rory nodded vigorously.

"Really, really, really?" she exclaimed, “I get to live with you like all my friends live with their Mummies and Daddies?”

Beth and Viv exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling with emotion. "Yes, Rory," Beth said, her voice steady. "We want you to be a part of our family forever."

Rory's joy bubbled over, and she flung her arms around both of them, hugging them tightly. "I love you, Beffy and Vivi!" she declared, her words muffled against their shoulders.

Tears welled up in Beth's eyes as she hugged Rory back. "We love you too, sweetie," she whispered. "More than anything."

Viv and Beth worked with Rory’s foster family on packing up all of her belongings, for one little girl there sure were a lot of clothes and toys. Rory said her goodbyes to her foster family before Viv helped strap her into the car.

The drive home was filled with Rory singing along to all the different songs Viv and Beth had put onto a playlist of her, a few of them being Viv’s favourite Taylor Swift songs.

When they arrived home, Rory was so excited to see before running off to her room to see how Viv and Beth had decorated. It was everything the little girl could’ve ever dreamed of.

The walls were pink just like she’d asked for and she had a true princess-style bed. There was a bookshelf in the corner, filled with all of her favourite books, as well as a little teepee for her to read in.

The couple spent the evening settling Rory in, after dinner they settled down onto the couch with Rory in her pyjamas and close by.

“Vivi, Beffy?” Rory asked.

Beth brushed back Rory’s hair from the spot she sat in between the couple, “Yes, sweetie?”

“My friends at school,” Rory started, anxiously playing with the ear of Twix, “they have parents and they call them Mummy and Daddy. What do I call you?”

Viv looked at Beth before speaking, “Well you can call us what you want. You can call us Beth and Viv, you can call us Mummy and Mamma or whatever you feel comfortable with!”

Rory hummed and thought for a second before speaking, “I like Mummy and Mamma!”

“Well you can call us that if you want, it’s totally up to you,” Beth smiled.

“Mummy and Mamma!” Rory smiled, “I like that! You my Mummy and Mamma!”

Beth and Viv exchanged a happy grin and eventually Rory fell asleep in between them. They carried the little girl to her bed before heading back to the living room.

Soon, a soft sound interrupted them. They looked over to see Rory standing in the doorway, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Can I sleep with you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, sweetie,” Beth said, smiling.

Viv walked over to Rory before she knelt to Rory's level. “You want to come snuggle with us for a bit?”

Rory nodded, her face lighting up. Viv carried her over to the couch, Rory still holding Twix tightly.

As they all settled in, Beth wrapped an arm around both Viv and Rory. “This is perfect,” she said softly.

Viv leaned in closer, planting a kiss on Rory’s head. “We’re so lucky to have you, Rory.”

#awfc #lvnleah #beth mead x vivianne miedema #beth mead #vivianne miedema #our little love

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