#spent to much time on it now I don’t like it anymore sigh

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) christmas miracle !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [jaemin x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.3k w. cursing, slight angst, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

august 22nd, 2019

“jaem?” you called out, your voice barely a whisper as your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat among the comfortable silence. he hummed in response, his hand continuing its caresses in your hair. “i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you mumbled, voice on the verge of breaking.

you felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh “i know” your boyfriend answered, his tone matching yours.

“i love you” you said, unconsciously cuddling closer to him as if you were scared of letting go. you were, because you knew that if you did it would be the last time you would be this close to him in a very long time.

“i know” he repeated as he held you closer “i love you too, and i’m sorry”

“i know” you mimicked, rising from your previous position while still sitting close to him “i don’t doubt that you love me, jaem, it's just… i can’t go on with a relationship where you disappear for a week and then call me like nothing happened.” your hand found his, your fingers intertwining. “i love you, but you’re not opening up to me and i can’t understand why you do the things that you do.”

jaemin listened attentively, his heart breaking further with each of your words. he knew it was true, all of it, but he wasn’t capable of talking about what was going on when he couldn’t even understand it himself. he felt embarrassed to tell you that there were days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed to eat, much less to grab his phone to call you. when two days had gone back with zero contact and he felt a little better, he was way too ashamed to reach out and just waited long enough that he could pretend he hadn’t spent days crying on his bed for no reason.

he loved you more than anything in the world, more than he loved himself, even. he also knew you would never shame him for feeling the way he did, but you would worry. you would put aside your life to help him get his back, and he could never ask you to do that, he loved you too much.

“you deserve so much better,” he spoke after a few seconds of silence, his free hand moving to cup your cheek. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be what i promised you to be”

“you were everything and more” you smiled sadly, feeling your eyes burning with tears “i need you to promise me something”

“what is it, love?” he mumbled as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“if you still want me when the time is right, promise you will call me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out” the tone of your words was so serious that it left no doubt on him that you meant every one of them.

“i promise i will” he gave you a weak smile, moving his hand to place it in front of you and extending his pinky finger towards you.

you interlaced your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to kiss it and seal the promise. “i should go home now,” you said weakly, tearing your hands apart from each other to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

jaemin wanted to beg you to stay, at least until the morning so he could hold you through one more night. but he couldn’t, he knew too well that one more night would make you back away from your decision and he couldn’t hurt you any further.

“want me to drive you?” he asked, his hand feeling cold without your warmth.

“i’ll get an uber, don’t worry” you gave him a sad smile as you grabbed your bag from the floor before walking towards him and cupping his cheek, crouching slightly to place your forehead against his. “i love you”

“i love you more” he answered, a single tear escaping his eyes as he looked at you one last time before you walked out of his room for the last time.

…

december 18th, 2024

jaemin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he walked out of his friends’ apartment. it had been an afternoon full of laughter and happiness, one of the many that had slowly healed his heart over the years. he waved goodbye to jeno, who was getting into his car to drive home. he had offered him a ride, but jaemin felt the need to walk in the cold weather, it wasn’t that long of a walk to his apartment.

even when he had been as happy as he had, he couldn’t deny that watching his friends be coupley and cute had struck a nerve he didn’t even know he had. he didn’t know he wanted all of that, someone to tease, to kiss and to have stupid ugly sweater competitions with, but he did, and that could only mean one thing. he was ready, and the time was finally right.

that’s how he found himself standing at the edge of the river, overlooking the scenery as his thumb hovered over the call button. he stared at his phone screen as he chewed at the inside of his lip, he never deleted the picture he had for your contact; a picture of 19 year old you with your cheeks being squished by his large hand.

he smiled at the sight, feeling his heart squeeze with a mixture of nostalgia and guilt. would you still want him to contact you even though it had been five years since you broke things off?

“ i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out”

your voice resonated in his head and his hand moved on its own to press the button that had been haunting him for the past five minutes. he took the phone up to his ear, trying his hardest to breathe properly and maintain his calm as the tone ringed. 

what if you had changed your phone number? what if you had a partner? what if you simply didn’t want to hear from him after this long? what if he had changed way too much for you? what if-

“hello?” his thoughts were cut off by a voice on the other line. your voice. “hi?” you asked again, and he had to snap off of his thoughts.

“yn” he blurted out, his voice sounding completely breathless. he didn’t expect you to know who it was, but he didn’t seem to be able to say anything else. there was silence for a couple of seconds, and he thought he heard your breath hitch.

“jaemin?” you spoke, sounding as if you had just gotten a call from a ghost. 

“yeah, it's me” he breathed out, cautious with his words. he couldn’t say he wasn’t completely scared shitless in that moment.

“hi” you answered, and he could hear the smile on your astonished voice. 

“hi” shit, he really had to start talking more. “you didn’t change your phone number” no shit.

“i didn’t” you spoke “you did”

“i changed a lot of things” the boy spoke, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips. 

“you kept my contact” you remarked, and he couldn’t understand how he could be so happy even when his heart was about to fall out of his ass.

“i promised i would call you” if i still wanted you. “so here i am, i hope it's not too late”

“it’s not” you assured, feeling speechless at how he had actually called you.

“good. uhm, i was wondering if you’d like to come get coffee with me sometime” he asked, his hand going to scratch the nape of his nape as it did when he was nervous. 

“i would love that, just tell me when” a smile took over his face immediately, feeling incredibly grateful to whatever saint had made you the nicest, most beautiful soul that could’ve ever stepped foot on earth.

“is tomorrow too soon?” he asked softly, knowing that his request was a little greedy, but he had spent five years without hearing your voice and he didn’t think he could stop now.

jaemin heard you chuckle from the other line “no, it’s no” he almost cheered at the sound of your voice “wanna meet at sunrise café at like 11?” 

“of course, that’s perfect” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him “do you need me to pick you up?” 

“nah, i work just around the corner” you answered, being followed by silence. the boy didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t trust himself to say anything else without going overboard. “i'll see you there then?”

“yeah, i’ll see you there” he said, being sure that you could hear his smile in his voice. “bye, yn”

“bye, jaem” you said before hanging up. fuck, he had missed the way his name sounded when you said it.

…

jaemin found himself sitting in a booth inside the café you had agreed to meet in. nostalgia was flooding his body, remembering all the times you had sat on that same seat when you were together. as the minutes passed, he began to feel uneasy. had you planned on standing him up as revenge for all the times he did all those years ago? no, you weren’t like that at all. maybe you had forgotten?

“hi” his attention was called back into reality by your voice again. he lifted his eyes to meet yours, and he could have screamed right then and there. he had always thought you couldn’t get prettier than you were, but he had no idea what he was talking about. the woman that stood in front of him was a work of art, an angel that was blessing him with the ability to look at her.

“yn, hi” he muttered breathlessly as he stood up. he was too stunned to know what to do now that he had you in front of him. you smiled at him and he felt his heart stop, you were fucking unreal. “here, go ahead” he muttered as he politely moved a chair back for you to sit, causing you to thank him.

“it’s nice to see you after so long” you said once you were sitting in front of each other.

“it is” he smiled, still trying to calm his racing heart “five years is a really long time, i’m sorry i didn’t contact you sooner” his smile turned apologetic “i was in a really rough spot, but i’m better now”

“there’s nothing to apologize for” you reassured “you needed time, i understood that” jaemin felt like he could start crying on the spot. you had always been so understanding and warm, even when he didn’t deserve it at all. “now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“well, i’m a photographer now” he said, marking the beginning to a long, overdue conversation about life through the last five years.

hours passed with both of you sitting in the coffee shop, long enough for you to feel bad about being there for so long and deciding to go on a walk along the river bank, seemingly not getting enough of each other’s company.

“so yeah, that didn’t really work out” you shrugged as you concluded your story about your last boyfriend, who jaemin had asked about very casually. 

“he sounds like an asshole” he chimed in, eliciting a laugh to escape your lips.

“he kind of was, yeah” you had to agree, nodding softly. “i’m glad that’s over, to be honest”

“i’m glad it’s over, too,” jaemin blurted out, his eyes widening slightly at the realisation of the implication of his words.

you raised your eyebrows with an amused smile “i’m sure you are”

…

it had been a little under a week since you and jaemin had reconnected, and he could say that he had never felt so happy in his life. he knew you felt the same, he could see it in your smile and your shiny eyes.

“so yeah, i was going to go visit family but i got snowed in in seoul” you shrugged your shoulders as you recounted your failed christmas plans. “same thing happened to my cousin, it’s like a curse.”

jaemin listened intently as he looked at your pretty face, an idea popping into his head “you could come spend christmas with my friends and i” his voice was nervous, unsure of if he was moving too fast.

“are you still friends with jeno and them?” you asked, and he nodded, causing you to smile. you took a few seconds to weigh out your options, coming into a conclusion rather quickly. “then i would love to”

jaemin smiled brightly as he continued walking, his hand slowly reaching for yours as he interlaced your fingers wordlessly.

…

“this is crazy, i would never have thought i would see you together again” jeno spoke as he watched you and jaemin sitting next to each other on heachan’s couch, a little too close for it to be casual.

“some things change and others stay the same” you shrugged, smiling sweetly as you turned your head to look at jaemin, who was already staring at you.

“this is sickeningly sweet, i'm gonna go help in the kitchen” the taller boy grimaced, standing up to walk away, leaving you and jaemin alone in the living room.

“i don’t think we stayed the same, you know” he commented, looking at you with lovesick eyes. “i would never do the things i did back then without giving you an explanation”

“promise?” you asked, a smile on your perfect lips as you extended your pinky towards him.

“promise” he answered, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss to seal the promise.

you mimicked his action and wordlessly stared into his eyes, marvelled at the way the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, looking just like stars.

it was surreal to be there with him after so long, but it was the perfect christmas miracle.

★ blue's corner ;; another part of of my christmas special with my first ever nct dream bias... i hope you like it ! this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[doggishgirl]

i'll be waiting || kaeya alberich

pairing: kaeya alberich x reader

word count: 2,850

content: sfw, angst, childhood friends to nothing, first love, first heartbreak, written pre-sumeru release, based on the webtoon

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

“I’m leaving in the morning. Master says this is the last leg of my training, and she’s gonna take me to study in every nation of Teyvat. But… she says it could be years before we return.”

“You brought me all the way out here just to tell me that? I already know you’re leaving, you didn’t have to pull me away from training just to rub salt in the wound,” Kaeya huffed, looking like he was about to turn and leave. 

“Wait, Kaeya,” you gasped, your eyes widening in surprise before you lurched forward to grab his wrist and stop him. “That’s not what I meant. I just… uh, I wanted to reminisce a little bit before I left. You used to always come out here with me at night when we were younger. What, you don’t like me anymore?” you huffed. 

He didn’t say anything, but his expression seemed to soften, even if just slightly, so you smiled and tilted your head to the side. “So, did you get me a going away gift?” And then his expression fell again and you realized quickly you had said the wrong thing. 

“Enough about leaving, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve spent enough time helping with your studies that I feel like I should’ve been invited too, but instead I’m finishing my training with the Knights, because I actually want to stay in Mondstadt!” he exclaimed, pulling his arm out of your grip in order to stalk off. 

“Kaeya!” you yelled after him, sprinting the distance he’d already put between you so you could stop in front of him and put both your hands on his chest to stop him from walking. “Fine, fine, I won’t talk about… it. But, c’mon, you can’t just avoid me,” you said quietly, your eyes searching his for a moment, hoping for some sort of response, but still, he didn’t say anything. 

“Tomorrow is my birthday,” you offered, still waiting for something. “We’ll both be 16 now. You’re already a Knight, one of the youngest, and my training is practically done. We’re pretty impressive, don’t you think?” you asked, offering him another tiny smile. 

“Aside from my not having a vision,” he grumbled, and though the statement made you frown, his voice was enough to satisfy you. You moved your hands down to clasp his hands in your grip and pulled him backwards to the small clearing you’d started in. 

“Why does that matter? Everyone else is impressed with you. *I’m* impressed with you. You just have an issue with yourself,” you responded, sitting down carefully on the top of a flat stone. You’d pretty much grown up together in the Whispering Woods; sneaking out to this exact clearing several nights a week to lie on your backs to talk while you practiced with your weapons or studied by lantern light. Nothing much had changed about it aside from some overgrowth of the shrubbery and the gradual growth of the trees whose trunks were twisting beautifully along the outskirts of the area. 

“What type of Vision would you even want?” you asked, patting the spot next to you to beckon him over. 

Kaeya sighed but relented his stoic pose and chose to sit beside you. “Probably Anemo, just because anyone with an Anemo Vision in Mond is treated like a celebrity.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s no valid reason. You’re already treated like a celebrity, plus that means we’d hardly be able to fight together. Dendro doesn’t react with Anemo,” you complained. 

“You probably should’ve thought of that before you got all into nature,” he retorted. “Besides, you hardly fight to begin with, so what’s it to you?”

“Well, I think we make a good pair, don’t you?”

He seemed to contemplate his answer for a moment, causing you to gawk at him before you nudged your elbow into his side. “Please, I know you don’t have to think about it that hard,” you whined, then scoffed when he started to laugh. 

“Fine, fine, we do make a good pair,” he acquiesced. And really, you were. Sure, he and Diluc made good brothers and they were the talk of the town, but you and Kaeya had an easy friendship. When Diluc got his Vision and went on to join the Knights, even becoming the Cavalry Captain, you and Kaeya were left to your own devices. 

When a moment passed and you had yet to say anything else, Kaeya’s eyes flickered over to look at you, only to find you staring at him tearfully.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are the tears about? I already said I agree!” he said incredulously, but you just shook your head. 

“It’s not about that. I just… I’m gonna miss you. I know I said we wouldn’t talk about me leaving but it’s happening and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and I’m gonna miss you, okay! You can’t blame me. I just feel like I’m going to miss out on so much and I know I wanted this, I know I’ve been training for this for years but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss Mondstadt, or my friends, or you! So can’t we talk about it?”

You were expecting some sort of response, or most likely that he would just up and leave again. He was never the sentimental type, even though you and Diluc were the only two people he’d be the most open with, so topics like this weren’t common when you were alone together. You figured a part of his hesitation to hear about your upcoming journey was due to jealousy, or perhaps he was having a hard time with the idea of you leaving. But however you were thinking he would react, none of them aligned with him grabbing both your cheeks and pulling you in until he could slot your lips together. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” was the first thing he said after you both pulled apart, “because I’ll miss you too. I’d rather wake up and have you already be gone than deal with an impending sense of doom. I… I don’t want you to go, but I want you to do what you love and see the whole of Teyvat, even if it means leaving behind someone else that you might… love,” he said quietly, looking away. 

“You haven’t kissed me in a while,” you answered, to which you received a scoff and a flick to your forehead. 

“That’s your answer?”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was done!” you huffed. You were silent afterwards for a minute, the only sound being the whistle of the wind through the trees. You placed your hand on top of one of his, still gently cupping your cheek, before you finally spoke. “It’s not like I’m never gonna come back, or forget you, or any other impossible thing you might be thinking of. Before anything else, you’re my best friend, and when I come back, you’re the first person I want to see and you’ll tell me everything I wasn’t around to witness. You’ll show me your Vision, which will hopefully react with Dendro, and you’ll be the captain of some brand new division of the Knights and maybe I’ll even join like they’re begging me to. Maybe… maybe we’ll be together, when we’re older and better and… I’ll come back. No matter how long it takes, I promise.” You kissed him again, albeit briefly, before you wrapped both your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek against his shoulder. 

“Fine, then. I’ll be waiting.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“Earth to [name], are you there?” 

With Amber’s voice breaking you out of your thoughts, your eyes widened and you turned to look at the young Knight apologetically. 

“Sorry, there’s just… So much has changed. You’re all grown up now, look at you, an outrider. I’m surprised you even recognized me, it’s been so long. I would love to stay and talk but I promised my master I would report to her as soon as I got back. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow during the festival and we can catch up!” you said gently. “In the meantime, take good care of… I’m sorry, you said your name was Collei?” you asked, glancing towards the younger girl standing just behind the Knight. Upon receiving a nod, you smiled again before you left the two girls to continue walking past the front gates. 

The city was particularly busy, which you were sure mainly had to be attributed to the eve of Ludi Harpastum, but there also seemed to be some sort of underlying tension which you couldn’t quite pinpoint. However, your first concern was meeting your master, who you hadn’t seen in 3 years, before you caught up on everything you’d missed out on. Your master had traveled with you for the first two years of your journey, but had deemed you capable enough of continuing the journey alone. Still, you certainly hadn’t planned on being gone for another 3 years. However, your time alone had marked the true beginning of your career. You’d made a name for yourself in the beginning with the aid of your master, but as you conducted your own field studies in each nation and began to publish your work, your journal eventually garnered its own renown, to the point that you had received invitations to study with scholars from the Akademiya or offered funding from the Fatui to submit your research to them exclusively. With the amount of people begging for your attention, it was only recently that you found the opportunity to return to your beloved homeland. 

“[name]?”

You stopped again when you heard someone else say your name, and turned until you found the source of the voice. 

“Jean? Lisa?” you asked, as if you couldn’t believe the appearances of the two in front of you. 

“It’s Master Jean, actually,” Lisa suggested, to which you gaped before looking towards the blonde once more. “What do you mean? Where’s Master Varka?”

“It seems a lot of our letters didn’t reach you, even though we got wind of all your publications. Very nice work, by the way. There’s a section in the library with all the volumes so far,” Lisa added with an amused hum. 

“Master Varka left Mondstadt on an expedition, so I’m Acting Grand Master for now. Lisa’s right, it seems there is a lot for you to catch up on. We actually have a bit of a problem we need to attend to…” Jean said, glancing towards Lisa momentarily. “But tonight, if you’re not too tired and you don’t have plans, we can meet in the library, have some dinner and tea?”

“Oh, I’d love to, and that works out, I have to meet with my master now anyways, so I will see you both later!” you said cheerfully, bowing your head before turning again and continuing towards your master’s house. 

Your meeting was rather brief, with your master mainly offering her congratulations and asking you about the various details of your journey that you hadn’t elaborated on in your letters, while you tucked your belongings away until you could move them into, hopefully, a place of your own. 

“By the way, dear, I suggest you confer with the Knights soon about possible research opportunities so you could stay home for a while,” your master suggested, after you finally sat in front of her at the tea table again. “I’m sure you could talk to that Knight fellow you were always with before we left. Kaeya, was it? Have you seen him yet?”

You clasped your hands together firmly and shook your head quickly. “I, uh, haven’t. Haven’t gotten the chance to speak to anyone even if I have bumped into them. But I’m apparently meeting some friends later so I suppose I’ll catch up then.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“So have you seen Kaeya yet?”

You were dreading this question from the moment you saw the twinkle in Lisa’s eyes. For some reason, the tea and dinner you’d been promised had turned into poring over some nondescript research in the library with Lisa, Jean, Amber and the mysterious Collei. 

“No, actually. Nor have I heard anything from him in 3 years. I assume there’s a lot I must have missed if he’s the first thing everyone wants to ask me about,” you huffed as you turned over the page you’d been reading. They’d caught you up quickly on the most recent events regarding some Fatui diplomats, as well as Varka’s expedition and some other changes within the Knights, but it also felt like there was something they weren’t saying yet. 

“Well, uh,” Jean spoke this time. “Around that time, there was something that happened he most likely didn’t want to write to you about.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“Diluc!” you exclaimed as soon as you stepped foot into the tavern. 

“[name]?” he said quizzically, upon raising his gaze from the glass in his hand. 

“Yes, yes, it’s me, I just got back this afternoon. Um, I want to say…” you looked around for a moment. There were a few patrons still milling around the bar and there was a familiar bard cloaked in an ugly green outfit who seemed to be singing drunk in the corner, but otherwise there was no one at the bar and no one to eavesdrop. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know I’m three years too late, but I’ve only just found out and I’m very sorry about your father,” you told him earnestly. “Jean told me you went on your own journey, too. Even quit the Knights. So I suppose we both have some catching up to do.”

Diluc was quiet for a moment, but eventually he gave you a small smile and ducked his head in acknowledgement, before he paused again and seemed to hesitate. 

“Has Kaeya spoken to you about anything, by any chance?” 

You felt like you wanted to throw the polished glass against the wall. “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t even seen him yet. Feels like I’ve seen everyone else in the whole city though. I might as well meet Barbatos at this point.”

“Master Diluc,” you heard a hiccup from somewhere next to you and looked to the side to catch sight of the green bard. “Another glass, please,” he said cheerfully. 

“Anyways, Diluc,” you started again as he begrudgingly poured another glass. “I’ll see you tomorrow during the festival.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“[name]! Have you by any chance seen Collei?” a breathless Amber asked, to which you squinted at her and shook your head. 

“No, I actually just got down here, I was talking to Albedo for a while. Why? Is something wrong?” 

“There shouldn’t be. But Sir Kaeya sent me on a hunt for one of those contraptions we were studying last night and now I can’t find her, and she’s not particularly good with crowds. Would you mind helping me look for her?”

“Oh, uh, of course. Leave it to me,” you said firmly, before you threw a longing glance towards the waning festivities. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“Sir Kaeya!” Amber’s voice echoed down the empty stairwell, meanwhile you could not muster a single sound. By the time you made it down the icy stairs, Amber had already landed in front of Collei to shield her from Kaeya. 

You weren’t sure if anything you were seeing was right, and you didn’t know if you knew enough about the entire situation to form an opinion on it, but you were pretty sure that Kaeya had drawn his sword on a child. A heated argument came and went before your eyes, and you had yet to say anything. At some point, Amber swept Collei away and left you and Kaeya in front of each other amidst the frigid air. 

The man in front of you said nothing yet, just tucked his sword away before he crossed his arms and seemed to look at you expectantly. 

“I got back yesterday,” you offered. 

“I know.”

“Everyone was asking me if I’d seen you.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well, I said no. I wasn’t sure if you even knew I was in town.”

“I did.”

You pretended those two words didn’t sting, and just lowered your gaze to the floor in front of you. 

“A Cryo Vision–” you started again, but were cut off. 

“I stopped waiting three years ago when your master came home without you. She told me you chose to keep going, even after she told you that your training was complete. You promised in all your letters before that, that you were going to be back soon. And then… you didn’t come back. So I stopped waiting, and I stopped writing. I figured I just wasn’t worth coming back for, or worth keeping a promise to. So yes, a Cryo Vision. I know it doesn’t react with Dendro, but I’m not sure we ever made a good pair to begin with,” Kaeya said, without so much as a waver in his voice, before he turned and left, and this time you had no reason to get him to stay.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

talk to me about kaeya!

[viny-kun]

KINTSUGI

[cetoddle-archive]

having a crush is literally like. everyone injured no survivors

[beloveds-embrace]

(Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️)

Your marriage to Duke Price is one out of necessity: you need a husband before high society begins rumoring you to be a barren woman and too old to be married off, and Duke Price needs a wife who is able to take on Duchess duties of his duchies.

You do not expect love, though you suppose it’d be a nice bonus. You are merely glad that Duke Price is a reasonable handsome man, and he informs you on your wedding night that he will not force himself on you, and there is no need to immediately begin attemtping for an heir.

You take admirably to your new duties, have been raised practically for this purpose though the head butler Kyle is wonderful in helping you as well- actually all the servants have been wonderful towards you. You have regular dinners with John, though they are a bit stilted but at least Chef Johnny’s food is good enough you can easily forget the tense atmosphere. You can tell your husband is hiding something- you are sometimes barred from going to his office to him, certain rooms are not allowed for you, and you are not allowed anywhere near the letters addressed to him- but as long as it isn’t hurting you, why should you bother him? So you never ask, and he seems happy enough that you don’t.

Until you accidentally stumble upon him and Duke Riley exchanging tongues. Very heatedly, hands grasping and tugging on each other’s clothes and Duke Riley sat on your husband’s desk.

It’s hot.

What’s not so hot is the way they both look at you when they realize you are there. You stutter, face a red so fierce it’d put a furnace to shame, and bolt out of the room despite hearing John call your name.

And you also skip out on the dinners for now, pretending you are sick with the help of your maids and their makeup skills.

But suddenly, it’s like your eyes have been opened. It’s not just Duke Riley who seems to hold a part of your husband’s heart; the one time you gather enough courage to maybe go speak with John and address the situation, you see Kyle stumbling out all disheveled and flushed, though he has a very satisfied air around him. He freezes when he sees you, and your jaw drops.

“My lady-“

“I- I’ll just- I’m taking a walk! Alone!”

You go to the kitchens instead, hoping that Johnny would have something delicious you can eat. Maybe something cold enough to wash away the blush on your cheeks.

Johnny is weirdly silent, however, even as he whips up chocolate mousse for you. His silence is not normal, it feels… almost guilty…

You sighs, take in a deep breath, and gather your dress. “Johnny… are you too…-?”

“Aye, m’lady. But-“

You can’t take it anymore. You leave the kitchens, and go straight back to your bedroom to bury your face in your bed. It’s not as if you are upset! It’s just- a rather befuddling situation?

Two nights later, it’s John himself who comes to you. You had assumed it was one of your maids returning with a new jar of oil for your nightly hair routine, but it’s your husband. You are glad it’s winter, and you aren’t simply in a thin nightgown.

“Wife.” He says, voice steady yet strained.

“John.”

You can’t call him husband. You’ve spent the last two days thinking and you were… rather sad. You were in the way of whatever they had (you saw Kyle and Johnny kissing, Johnny specifically sending food addressed to Duke Riley), weren’t you?

John sighs, sitting down on the settee while you remain on your vanity. After a moment of awkward silence, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “…what do you want to remain silent about this?”

You blink, raising an eyebrow. “…huh?”

John’s fists clench. “How much do you want in return for your silence?”

Frowning, you set your brush down and fully turn to him even if you feel exposed despite your thicker nightgown. “Is this about your… partners?” You say the word delicately, then shake your head. “I want nothing, John. If you are worried about me starting anything, I won’t. I just… hope this doesn’t mean you will divorce me?”

Being a divorced woman might as well be a death sentence on its own.

He looks at you, shocked into silence, and you quickly explain; his relationships have nothing to do with you and you aren’t a petty woman, who are you to come between what he and they have? You only hope this won’t take away the protection this marriage gave you.

That night, thus, you and John reach an agreement you are sure both of you are satisfied with.

Except, months later, John is no longer satisfied.

With the ice broken between the two of you. The dinners have become so much more… relaxing and comfortable, far less than they had been. No secrecy was needed when you were around anymore, and you only giggle and look away, feigning innocence when they share tender kisses between one another… and the less polite kisses.

John can’t remain satisfied with this arrangement. You are such a sweet thing, now that he’s become to know you far better. He can see the way his men are looking at you now, something between fondness and hunger and want; Kyle helps you far more often now, despite your insistence that you can do it yourself. Even when you do it yourself, he stays by you and ensures you are comfortable.

And he joins your evening walks, arms looped as the two of you speak, laughing and giggling.

It’s similar to your late night chats with Johnny, where he plies your full of sweets and desserts until even your dreams are full of sweeter kisses you are sure will never be for you. Johnny, who cooks your favorites on hard days and who you heard from Kyle is even more serious about only having the best of the best in vegetables and meats and seasonings.

And Duke Riley… for all his stoicism, he is gentle with you. Even when he’d stared at you with doubt and mistrust, no doubt believing you to be lying to John and simply waiting for the shoe to drop and for you to ruin them. Yet it never happens, and now, during the galas you attend all dolled up on John’s arm and ignoring all murmurs about still having no children, you even dance with him and giggle at his terribly dry jokes, even share a few of your own with him.

Steadily, slowly, obliviously, John has watched each of his men fall for you. This, obviously, made you theirs. It made you his, more and more than you already were.

It’s why your current request is making him clench his glass in his hand, with Kyle looking on in displeasure as well, giving him subtle glances.

“-So that’s why I was asking, John,” you remain sweetly oblivious, adorned in a pretty dress Simon had gotten for you recently. “He will not spread any rumors, I’ll personally make sure of that-”

Your cheeks darken then, and you glance away. “I- I am… merely a bit- unsatisfied, if you understand my point. And the stable man is loyal to you, he wouldn’t say anything.”

It’s clear he needs to keep a better watch over you. Where and when did you even interact with his stable boy, Graves? Though he focused on your words.

Unsatisfied.

Well, he can’t have that, can he? You’ve done your wifely duties so admirably, it’s about time he took care of you as well… and maybe dealt with the baseless barren rumors as well. A baby would keep you nice and content and focused on them alone, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes. Yes, it would.

dukedom au masterlist

Part two

[monstersholygrail]

You, a cute Deer hybrid foolishly make another attempt to get away from your Tiger hybrid bf’s grip while his tongue ravishes you in the name of “grooming.” You huff, slumping against his paws that encircle your body.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. You try as hard as you can to not appear as aroused that you are by it, but when you hear him inhale sharply you know he’s picked up on the scent of lust that seeps from your pores.

“It’s no use trying to get away from me, mate.” You can’t help but whimper, the jittering buzz of restlessness coursing through your pent up body.

“I wanna run,” you whine, looking longingly toward the grassy distance even as you arch into his embrace. A part of you resisting possibly because you know how wound up it makes him.

A second later the tiger’s prickly tongue resumes its course of lapping up and down your exposed throat and you shiver, resisting a pleased sigh that begs to be released. A rumble passes through his chest as he soaks up your warmth, his protective instincts roaring to life at your irritating insistence.

“If you run then you get dirty and then you will be right back here in my enduring embrace with no chance of escape,” he growls, not completely hating the idea for a moment. The idea of caring for his mate’s body as much as he wrecks it an intriguing one. So why not do both?

Even with his warning you don’t stop your wriggling. Of course you don’t. Not when the urge to run and burn off your energy is pumping through your veins. You don’t even notice how your endless squirming has you grinding into your bf’s dick, causing it to harden and stir to life. Bringing forth its need to hunt and make its prey submit. He rumbles huskily in your ear, jerking forward and pinning you down with his hips.

“Stop your moving this instant or I’ll make you,” he threatens with that deadly rasp in his tone that would’ve had you baring your neck for him in an instant if you were paying any attention.

Your damn squirming doesn’t stop and it’s even worse now that his aching cock is nestled right between your plump thighs. His red bulging tip dribbling pre-cum. The fact that you don’t even notice as it leaks down onto your exposed slit is his last straw.

“That’s fucking it. You’re done for.”

Chilling noises leave him as he leans back and yanks your ass up into the air. Flipping your dress up and fully exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air as you help in surprise. That yelp quickly growing into a full-blown cry as before you realize what’s going on, your bf slips his entire length inside your warm wet cunt in a single thrust.

He doesn’t bother waiting for you to adjust before he starts slamming his cock along your quivering walls. His claws digging into your fur to keep you perfectly still for his onslaught. You hadn’t given him a moment of relief and he plans on affording you the same courtesy. Growls tear from his throat at how tight you are, especially as your pretty pussy clenches down on him like the good Doe you are.

You moan wildly, your body buzzing as it finally gets the exercise it truly needed. You try and meet his thrusts but your bf roars in protest, his claws sinking deeper into your flesh. Snapping his cock inside you with brutal thrusts, using your body like a fleshlight. Fucking into you with no restraint and unleashing all his pent up frustrations on you. Just like him your climax sneaks up on you and completely overwhelms you with endless shocks of pleasure. Your body shakes as he doesn’t stop, prolonging the buzzing inside you and you have a feeling he’s not gonna stop for a long time…

With each orgasm that wracks through your form, your body grows weaker. The only thing keeping you upright anymore is your bf’s claws still sunk into your hips. Drool pools from your lips as he pumps inside your pussy just right. Clearly aiming for his own release as few thrusts later he’s spilling himself deep inside you, filling your spent cunt to the brim with his cum. A sweet little reward for how good you were for him.

“Look at you. So perfect like this,” he says in awe, his claws scraping up and down your back in a way that has you moaning weakly.

Your body is so perfectly still, your mind completely fucked out. He now has you exactly how he needs you. With you no longer able to move, your bf leans over you, cock still fully sheathed inside you, and resumes his grooming. This time with no interrupts besides the occasional whimper.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Straight to you | LN4

✨summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, captivated by photos of her friend Lando Norris at a gala, sends a bold, flirtatious text that shifts their dynamic. Days later, Lando surprises her at her apartment, confessing his feelings and revealing he can't hold back anymore. 

✨pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✨word count ━━━━━━━ 1.2k

Y/N stretched out on her couch, a glass of wine in hand as her phone screen illuminated her face. She had spent the past hour scrolling through social media, and her feed was flooded with pictures and videos from the FIA Gala in Rwanda.  And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t stop scrolling through them.

Lando Norris was everywhere: standing proudly with his team, laughing with his peers, and posing for the cameras. But it was one photo in particular that had her captivated—Lando in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, grinning like he knew he owned the room.

She sighed, smiling softly to herself. Over the past year, Lando had gone from a casual acquaintance to someone she truly valued. They’d met through mutual friends at a gathering in London, and their banter had been immediate and effortless. They weren’t best friends by any means, but their connection had grown naturally over time.

He had even invited her to a few races over the past year. At first, she’d assumed it was just because she was someone fun to have around. But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when she caught him looking at her in a way that made her wonder if there was more to it.

The truth was, she found him attractive. Too attractive, in fact. But it was a line she’d refused to cross, afraid of ruining the friendship they’d built.

As the picture of Lando lingered on her screen, she opened their chat.

Y/N: Congrats again, Lan! You were incredible this season. So proud of you.

She reread the text twice, debating if it sounded too sentimental. After all, they didn’t exchange heartfelt messages often. Usually, it was teasing, inside jokes, and the occasional check-in. But tonight, pride for him outweighed her hesitation, and she hit send.

The reply came quicker than she expected.

Lando: Thanks, Y/N. Means a lot coming from you.

She smiled, staring at the screen. She could stop there, but the wine in her system and the tuxedo picture still sitting in her camera roll gave her an unexpected burst of boldness.

Y/N: Also… you looked insanely hot at the gala. Just saying.

The moment she hit send, her eyes widened in horror. “Oh no,” she muttered, setting her wine down and pressing her hands to her cheeks, which were now burning.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Lando: Hot, huh? Didn’t know you thought of me like that.

She groaned, biting her lip as she typed back.

Y/N: Ignore that. I didn’t mean to send it.

Lando: Yeah, right. Totally accidental.

Y/N: Lando.

Lando: What? I’m just saying, I don’t mind. In fact, I think we should talk more about how hot you think I am.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she shook her head.

Y/N: You’re impossible.

Lando: And you’re blushing. Don’t lie.

She threw her phone onto the couch, but when it buzzed again, curiosity got the better of her.

Lando: For the record, I thought you looked pretty hot at Silverstone this year. Just saying.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he flirting? No, he had to be joking—right?

Y/N: Are you flirting with me, Norris?

Lando: Maybe. Is it working?

Her stomach flipped, but she decided to match his energy.

Y/N: I don’t know. Maybe try harder next time.

Their playful exchange continued for another half hour, and while neither of them outright said what they were really thinking, the subtext was undeniable. By the time she went to bed, she couldn’t stop smiling, even if part of her wondered if they’d crossed a line.

Two days later, Y/N was in her tiny London apartment, halfway through cooking dinner, when a knock on the door startled her. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walked to the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Lando?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

He stood there, suitcase in one hand and a small smile on his face. He was dressed casually in a hoodie and joggers, his hair slightly messy from what she assumed was a long flight.

“Surprise,” he said, his tone light.

Her mouth opened, then closed as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to go to Monaco after the gala?”

“I was,” he admitted, stepping inside as she moved to let him in. “But I decided London sounded better.”

She closed the door behind him, her heart racing. “Why?”

His suitcase hit the floor with a thud as he turned to face her. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something more serious.

“Because you’re here,” he said simply.

Her heart stopped for a moment, and she struggled to find the right words. “Lando, I—”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he interrupted, taking a step closer. “That night, the things we said… it made me realize I’ve been holding back. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

She blinked, her throat dry. “Holding back from what?”

“From this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “From telling you how I feel. I thought I could keep it casual, keep pretending we were just friends. But I can’t. Not when I know you feel something too.”

Her breath caught. “What makes you so sure I feel something?”

He grinned, leaning in just slightly. “You called me hot. Twice.”

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’m also here. For you. So tell me, Y/N… do you feel it too?”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ve felt it for a long time. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

His smile softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not going to lose me. If anything, you’re stuck with me now.”

Before she could overthink it, he closed the distance between them, cupping her face and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was everything she’d dreamed of—soft yet urgent, full of all the feelings they’d both been holding back.

Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie. The kiss deepened as they moved toward the couch, their hands exploring, their whispered confessions tumbling out between kisses.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.

“Probably not as long as I have,” she shot back, pulling him closer.

“Wait,” she murmured again against his mouth, pulling back slightly.

“What?” he asked, his voice husky.

“You came all the way to London for me?”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’d fly to the ends of the earth for you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him back into another kiss, this one even more passionate than the last.

That night, months of tension and longing melted away as they finally let themselves feel everything they’d been suppressing.

Hours later, they lay tangled together on the couch, her head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced circles on her arm. She looked up at him and smiled, their embrace a quiet testament to their closeness.

“I’m glad you came,” she said softly.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[no-144444]

family issues-l.norris (no.4)

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

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

pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! sky presenter! reader

summary: lando (and his mum) are there for you during a difficult time.

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

P1. Pole position. Incredible. 

“Well done,” you smiled, hugging him close as he entered his driver’s room. “You did really well.”

You could feel his smile against your neck. “Thanks baby.”

You stayed there like that for a moment, just holding each other, then he pulled back with a big smile on his face. “OH! My mum is here, you can finally meet her!”

A part of your heart sank, and another part lifted. You’d met a good portion of his family and they were all lovely. It’s just that every time you met a part of his family, he wanted to meet a part of your family. You’d been dating for a year now, and up until 2 months ago, yeah, he could’ve met your family. But then… they decided to go no-contact with you. They just told you not to call or visit anymore. You weren’t their daughter anymore. Whatever, that was fine. Your parents were emotionally unavailable due to your sister’s mental health issues, and your sister didn’t treat you well at all. You were the glass child. 2 months ago you’d gone to dinner with them and your sister brought up all your ‘happy memories’, but all of them were moments without you, or moments where you were the joke. You’d gotten upset at them, and apparently that was all they needed to kick you out of the family. So much for love. So much for blood. Lando couldn’t make it to that dinner, and he was so upset that he couldn’t. He was worried your parents thought he wasn’t serious, or that he was dodging meeting them, but you told him not to worry, that they’d meet ‘another time’. Now, you were out of chances. You didn't tell Lando about the fight or everything that came after, he’d been struggling enough with his own mental health without you having to burden him with yours. So, you just swallowed it and told yourself you’d tell him over the summer shutdown. Then, Lando was having so much fun that you didn’t want to ruin it, so you decided you’d tell him after Singapore. Probably. Maybe. 

“Awesome!” you smiled. Even you could tell you didn’t sound right, too pitchy, too awkward, too surprised. 

He raised an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Fine,” you nodded. “Where is she? I want to meet her.” 

He nodded, still sceptical but obliged you and led you to his mother. Cisca was warm and welcoming, funny and kind, and just a good person. You saw so much of her in Lando. He was beaming as he watched you two interact, so happy that two of the most important people in his life got along. You spent the whole afternoon together as Lando went on with his duties, chatting about your lives, sharing stories about Lando and yourselves, you even got to see some embarrassing baby photos of Lando.

“So what about your parents? Do they ever come to the races?” She asked, a big smile on her face. 

“Well, no actually. We don’t talk much,” you chuckled. 

She raised an eyebrow, the same way Lando does. “Really? Lan told me that you were quite close with them?”

You sighed. “Can I tell you something? And you can’t tell Lan.”

She nodded and took your hand. “Of course.”

“2 months ago my parents disowned me. Lan has been begging to meet them and I have no idea what to tell him. I feel awful about it, and I didn’t want to add to his stress so I just keep lying to him telling him they’re busy. I just feel so… guilty,” you admitted. 

She sighed. “You poor girl. It's awful that you have to go through all of that on your own.” 

“Well, it’s not that bad,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

“It is. And that’s ok. It’s ok to be upset,” she smiled warmly. “I know my son, and he has not shut up about you since he met you as a sky presenter 2 years ago. Lan is a family-oriented person, and he’s just excited to be a part of your family and have you be a part of ours. He’d want to be there for you, the same way you’re there for him.”

You could feel yourself tearing up. You’d never had someone be so kind to you, never had someone treat you like a daughter. “Thank you,” you smiled sadly. 

“And anyways, your parents suck, you can be my daughter now,” she smiled.

And you definitely cried. But, they were happy tears. You’d found your family. 

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

After your eye-opening conversation with Cisca, you decided you’d come clean to Lando. As you two entered your room he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. 

“How was my mum today?” he asked, his voice deep with tiredness, and eyes heavy with sleep. 

“She was amazing, we had a bunch of fun,” you smiled. “Can I talk to you about something?”

He nodded. “‘Course baby.”

“It’s about my family.” 

Lando woke up slightly, sitting on the bed as you stood between his legs. “Alright.”

“2 months ago, after that dinner I went to, they cut contact and disowned me. It was up to my sister why and well, we know how much he hates me. So yeah, I have no family anymore, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

You looked at Lando and his face was a mixture of anger, guilt, and upset. He cleared his throat and his grip around your waist got tighter. “Number one, I’m so sorry that happened to you. That’s fucking shit and your parents don’t deserve you. Number two, you will never ever be a burden to me. Ever. You’re the most important person in my life. I love you Y/n, more than anything. I always want you to come to me about things that are happening and how you feel. Number three, fuck your family, you’re my family, alright?” 

You chuckled sadly, running your fingers through his hair. “Right. Thanks Lan, I love you.”

He smiled. “I love you more.”

“I feel it,” you smiled. He stood up and kissed your cheek. 

“Seriously, I’m here for you, always. Never forget that.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know. I won’t.”

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[grimmweepers-archive]

— ★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: afab!reader. dry humping. premature cumming. ok it’s his first time, he’s trying. reader is a tease. 0.8k words. MDNI. 18+ only.| masterlist

Virgin!Alhaitham who is known for being one of the brightest minds to come out of the Akademiya in years. A genius in his own right who can speak over 20 languages and executes everything he tries to perfection. But still has one thing that’s completely out of his realm: sex. 

He acts like it’s no big deal, shrugging off the idea of casual flings just to get his dick wet. It was beneath him, a pointless distraction from his personal goals. Instead, he turned to erotic literature, dissecting it for information like he would any other subject. It’s still educational, he reasons, a way to learn without getting tangled in something that would just waste his time. 

But then Virgin!Alhaitham starts dating you, and suddenly everything he’s learned doesn’t seem so abstract anymore. He’s thorough, methodical— he thinks he knows enough to ensure his first time with you goes off without a hitch. And yet. 

The first time you grind on his clothed cock, he was unprepared for the intensity, the friction, the heat— before he knew it he was already twitching and soiling his pants, his face flushing with embarrassment as he squeezes his eyes shut, white-knuckling your thighs at the realisation that he just came prematurely. 

“Did you just cum?” You ask with a playful lilt in your voice.

“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters, slightly mortified.

But really, who could blame him? You’re too much for him. Too beautiful. Too sharp. Too incredible with just the right amount of taunting. The way you look at him is overwhelming. Every touch leaves him on edge and every kiss is so sloppy because he wants you so badly, he can barely think straight. 

It happens again and then again after that. No matter how much he tries to keep his cool, to stay calm and focused, he can’t handle it. You make his brain fog up, his thoughts scatter, and he curses himself because all he wants to do is fuck you without cumming at just the sight of your pussy. 

However, you don’t let him off the hook that easily. After he’s ruined his boxers, you love to tug down the waistband and admire the mess he’s made, smearing his seed on your fingers and licking it clean with a grin. Just give it a minute and his cock will be hard as rock all over again. 

When he finally manages to put it in you, it’s with one big, unexpected thrust. He can’t help it— the way your walls gripped the tip sent his hip jerking forward as it moved on instinct. 

“I’m… sorry,” he breathes out, though there was no regret in the way his cock throbbed in you. 

And the worst part? You know exactly what you’re doing to him. You bat those pretty lashes at him, feigning innocence while you’re driving him wild, watching him try not to nut just from groping your tits and hearing you sigh his name with that breathy, sweet voice. 

He’s in over his head and you’ve completely flipped the script. Alhaitham has spent his whole life being the one in charge, always knowing what to do, but with you, he’s just a bundle of raw, needy energy. 

And now— he burns with a desperate need to fuck you harder, faster, to feel every inch of you clenching around him that he’s completely lost in it. You’ve made him realise how much he’s been holding back and now he’s ready to give you everything he’s got. 

So when he starts thrusting, it’s deep and unsteady, driven by hunger he’s never felt before. And poor Alhaitham, so out of his element, feels his usual self-control slipping away with each thrust. He thinks the least he can do is stay quiet, to maintain some semblance of composure. But then you whisper in his ear, telling him he can be as loud as he wants. 

And the moment those words reach him, he breaks, unable to hold back the sounds that had been clawing at his throat. He lets out strings of groans and grunts, each one rougher than the last, filling up the room with his lewd noises. 

He’s determined to keep going, to fuck you senseless but you’re so wet and tight, you’re damn near milking him. Between your occasional praise and begging him for more, he finally snaps with a guttural moan, burying himself inside you. His body trembles as he spills into you but even then, he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, slower now, to savour every last second, despite the sensitivity.

When it's all over, he collapses on top of you, so utterly spent. All those late nights he allowed himself to indulge by jerking off at the thought of you, feeling a little guilty while trying to imagine what it would be like, was nothing compared to the real thing. 

As he lays there, panting and dazed, he tells himself that this will be a problem.

Because now he can’t do it any other way. If this is what he wanted, he was going to have to get better at it. And being the diligent person that he is, there is only one way to improve: practice. 

And who better to practice on than you?

a/n: the idea of virgin!alhaitham has me breathing into a paper bag

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[wintfleur]

Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗

౨ৎ sleep darling

﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )

°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )

°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist F1 masterlist

Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy. 

You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind. 

The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him. 

You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you. 

You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.” 

You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical. 

You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute. 

You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever. 

Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.” 

You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.” 

“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together. 

“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose. 

You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.” 

“I ⸺ “ 

“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme. 

Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.” 

Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you. 

You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.” 

You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.” 

Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing. 

“I love you more, now sleep darling.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )

[pucksandpower]

Just Not Home

Lewis Hamilton x race engineer!Reader

Summary: and I can go anywhere I want … anywhere I want, just not home

The Bahrain sun hovers low over the paddock, stretching long shadows across the asphalt. It’s the first day of preseason testing, and everything feels like a half-forgotten memory — almost familiar, but not quite.

Lewis stands by the Ferrari garage, his arms crossed over the crimson of his new uniform. The Prancing Horse on his chest gleams under the fluorescent lights, a betrayal written in gold thread. He looks down at his phone, scrolling idly, but you know it’s an act. He’s waiting.

So are you.

The Mercedes garage hums around you with the buzz of drills and the low rumble of the cars firing up. It’s your world. It’s been your world for over a decade. But not his anymore. Not after last season.

And then you see him.

He looks up at just the right — or wrong — moment. His gaze locks with yours, and for a second, everything around you dissolves into static. There’s no garage, no engineers, no cars. Just you and him, separated by too many steps and too much history.

You hesitate, then force your feet to move, weaving through the pit lane toward him. He doesn’t look away.

“Didn’t think you’d come over,” Lewis says when you’re close enough to hear. His voice is steady, calm, but his eyes betray him. They’re searching your face like they haven’t seen it a thousand times before.

“Didn’t think you’d want me to,” you reply.

He exhales sharply, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I always want you to.”

It’s too much, too soon. You look down, focusing on the grease smudges on your hands. “How’s it feel? Being in red.”

Lewis glances down at his suit as if he hasn’t already spent hours adjusting to the unfamiliar color. “Strange. Feels like wearing someone else’s skin.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. The silence stretches, heavy and awkward, until he breaks it.

“Do you hate me?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“For leaving,” he clarifies. His tone is too casual, like he’s trying to keep it from hurting, but you know him too well. “Do you hate me for going to Ferrari?”

You laugh, short and humorless. “Hate you? No, Lewis. I don’t hate you. I just-” You pause, searching for the right words. “I don’t know what I feel. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated,” he repeats, rolling the word around like it tastes bitter. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

There’s another pause, filled with the distant roar of an engine.

“I miss you,” he says, quietly, like it’s a confession.

You look at him, really look at him. His jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, but his eyes — those damn eyes — are soft and full of something you can’t name.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things like that. Not here. Not now.”

“Why not?” He steps closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. “Why can’t I say it? It’s true.”

“Because it doesn’t change anything!” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a few passing mechanics. You lower it again, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re here, and I’m there, and that’s how it’s going to be.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” he says, his voice breaking just slightly on the last word. “You think I wanted this?”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I had to.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

“Had to?” You echo, your tone sharp. “No one made you, Lewis. No one put a gun to your head.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit.”

He flinches, just barely, and you immediately regret the harshness. But you don’t take it back.

“You could’ve stayed,” you continue, your voice trembling now. “You could’ve stayed, and we-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “But you didn’t. You chose this. You chose them.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away. But then he speaks, his voice low and raw.

“You think I wanted to leave the team? Leave you? I didn’t. But I don’t know. It’s like …” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere. Just not-”

“Home,” you finish for him, and the word tastes bitter.

His eyes snap to yours, and there’s something raw there, something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just not home.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s too much, too honest, and you don’t know how to respond.

“Why are you telling me this now?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I need you to know.” He looks at you, his eyes pleading. “I need you to know that it wasn’t about leaving you. It was about finding ... I don’t know. Something I’ve been chasing my whole life. But it’s not here either. I thought it would be, but it’s not.”

“Lewis,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice cracks on the word. “I’m so sorry. For leaving. For not telling you sooner. For everything.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but it doesn’t help. His words are everywhere, wrapping around you like a net you can’t escape.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you admit.

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he replies. “I just ... I just wanted you to know.”

The silence between you is deafening, filled with all the things neither of you can say.

Finally, you look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, you see it. The weight he’s been carrying, the regret etched into every line of his face.

“I don’t hate you,” you say again, softer this time.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I know.”

And then, as if by some unspoken agreement, you both step back. The gap between you widens, filling with everything that could have been and never will be.

“Good luck this season,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

“You too,” he replies.

And just like that, it’s over. You turn and walk back to the Mercedes garage, each step heavier than the last. You don’t look back.

Neither does he.

[seongsgirl]

— your girl.

; no smut in this, but my blog is nsfw, so please, mdni.

— I dedicate this work to @starryjake <3 me and jake love you so much.

You laid flat on your bed, eyes fixated on the tiny glow in the dark stars that you insisted that Jake help you stick to your ceiling. They glew dimly in the dark, not getting enough sunlight during the day to make the glow to their full capacity; it didn’t help that you had the curtains drawn closed all day. 

The room was dark, not feeling like getting up to turn the light on and opting to sit in the dark, the only light coming from the sticky stars and the little sliver of light peeking through the crack in your doorframe that shone from the hallway. 

You sighed softly and turned to your side, eyes landing on the framed picture of you and Jake on your desk. He was slightly crouched and your chin rested on top of his head, both of you adorning the cheesiest smiles you have ever wore. Jake’s glasses were slightly crooked and his cheeks were tinted red, much like yours. 

The photo was taken during some event that was happening on campus a little under six months ago. It was one of the happiest moments of your life and you silently thank Jungwon daily for capturing that moment perfectly. 

Then again, any moment you spent with Jake was a happy one. He knew just what to say every time you needed reassurance, knew the perfect remedies for a broken heart when Heeseung left you with one. He knew things about you that you didn’t even know about yourself, he knew everything and more. 

Jake was essentially everything you have ever dreamed about, the person you always dreamed of being with. And you were with him, but not in the way you truly wanted. He was just your best friend and roommate, nothing more, nothing less.

And that made falling in love with him even harder to deal with.

You sighed again and rolled over to your back again, looking at the stars. They began to dim even more, losing their charge as the night progressed. It reminded you a lot of yourself and your current state. You were so bright, so full of energy and ready to show the world what you are capable of. But something shifted within the last few months, and your spark was dulling. Nothing quite felt the same anymore, and you didn’t know what was changing, but something was.

Maybe it was the unrequited love and stress of masking it for so long.

You took a deep breath before looking over at your desk again, searching for your desk clock. The digital clock read nine-thirty and you mentally prepared to see Jake any second now. It was a Saturday night, your usual night to spend with Jake in the living room, a movie on the television and snacks and drinks littering the coffee table as you both caught up with each other from the events that occurred over the week. But you really couldn’t be bothered to partake in the weekly ritual tonight. 

Almost like clockwork, you hear a faint knock on your door and a familiar voice saying your name. You didn’t respond.

There was another quiet knock before the door slowly creaked open. The hallway light shone brightly in your bedroom and burned your eyes, groaning as you clamped them shut. 

“Y/n?” Jake says slowly, as if he’s scared. You slowly open your eyes and look at the boy standing in your doorframe, his head tilted like a puppy. 

“Sorry, Jake.” you started, a puzzling look taking over the boy’s face. “I don’t think I’ll do movie night tonight.” you mumbled.

Jake took a couple cautious steps into your room. It wasn’t like you to skip movie night, in fact, you’ve never skipped one in the entire two and a half years that you two lived together. Jake licked his bottom lip before speaking. “Is everything…are you okay?”

You chuckled. “Not really.”

You could practically hear Jake’s heart shatter in his chest. There you were, his best friend in the entire universe, laying in a dark room while blankly staring at the ceiling and he had no idea you weren’t okay. 

You heard Jake take in a breath before shuffling through your room and sitting on the foot of your bed, your head close to his thigh. You looked over at him to see him already looking down at you. His hair was scruffy and he had his glasses on, really bringing together his nerdy boy image. His eyes were full of worry, yours full of nothing. 

And you both sat there, looking into each other’s eyes in silence for a moment before you turned your attention back to the now dim star stickers. 

“What do you do when you love someone, but they don’t love you back?” you said abruptly, breaking the silence.

Jake looked back over at you, eyes slightly wide. “Huh?”

A sad smile crept onto your lips. “You know what I’m talking about, Jake.” you turned back to him, “When you feel like you can’t love someone even more than you already do, but you know that those feelings aren’t reciprocated. How does someone get closure with something like that?”

Jake’s eyes turned glossy, and his lips scrunched to one side of his face. “I-I don’t know…” he said softly. “I wish I did, because I know exactly how you’re feeling.” Jake put a soft hand on yours that rested on your stomach. 

You sighed. “It hurts, knowing that he’s exactly who I always dreamed about but knowing that he’ll never love me the way I do with him.”

“Do I know him?” Jake asked.

Your lips fell into a straight line. “Yeah, you do.”

Jake hums, acknowledging your response. “Well, I hope he finally sees what’s in front of him and stops being stupid.”

You chuckle softly. “I hope your girl realizes that, too.” and silence falls upon you both again. 

Minutes feel like hours and years before you speak again. 

“Jake,” you mumbled, not letting your vision stray from the stars, but you see Jake shift to look at you in your peripheral. “That’s his name.”

You hear Jake’s breath catch in his throat and you feel your eyes glaze with tears, a single one slipping out and falling down your face. 

“Y/n…” Jake whispers, taking his thumb and wiping away the stray tear. “That’s her name.”

And suddenly the ever growing pit in your stomach doesn't feel as big.

You look over at Jake, and he’s still looking at you. You sit up and come face to face with him. Jake’s hands come up to your cheeks, holding your face gently, and you melt into his touch. 

“I’m sorry I never told you…” Jake whispers, your noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. “Me too,” you reply, your lips ghosting over his. 

“I’ve always wanted you to be my girl. From the day I met you, I knew I had to do whatever it took to get you.” his thumb brushed your cheek.

“Jake,” you press your lips to his softly and you feel him immediately melt into the kiss. You broke away and looked at him with a soft smile. 

“I’ve always been your girl.”

[adore-laur]

hiii lovely i don’t know if you take requests but if you do please can we have an angsty piece for dadrry, like i know we had the christmas fight but like maybe h says something super mean to yn during an argument or he’s been super busy with work and he ends up being neglectful and stuff, and like i wanna see the groveling!!! it’s just a request if you don’t do angst i get it, but i would really love to see it !! no pressure tho xx

NEED YOU NOW

this is a flashback from the dadrry universe! enjoy, and please reblog / comment 🌝

——

It was 7:55 p.m., nearly three hours past the time Harry had promised to be home. His plate of food sat cold on the countertop. It had been his to make, but when you heard that he was staying late at the restaurant, you threw a quick meal together that was subpar by everyone's standards.

Truthfully, you were livid. Harry's paid paternity leave expired a week ago, and he was already breaking promises. I will always be home for dinner, he had vowed when you began to dread the day he put his chef coat back on and left you to parent alone. Remarkably, he had upheld it thus far. You just didn't think he'd let it collapse so soon.

You stewed over it in bed while trying—and failing—to put your four-month-old daughter down to sleep. It was the first time you had to do it by yourself, and to say it was shaping up to be a colossal catastrophe was an understatement. You didn't possess Harry's deep, soothing voice that was practically a lullaby of its own, nor did you possess his natural, rhythmic hip sway while rocking her to sleep. So, yes, there was a tiny kernel of resentment building pressure inside of you because of your shortcomings as a parent, and it would explode any second now. Because missing dinner was one thing, but missing the baby's bedtime? Outrageous.

Fussy cries rattled around the room as her body squirmed in the bedside bassinet. The probability of you joining in on her meltdown was soaring higher as the sky darkened. Nothing you were doing was successful in calming her conniption—not nursing, ocean air, white noise, or even her trusty pacifier could settle those high-pitched wails that simultaneously broke your heart and frazzled your nervous system beyond its regular state. You were determined to remedy the situation as a perfectly capable individual, but in your heart of hearts, you knew that sometimes you weren't the needed parent. Tonight, Harry was the desired nurturer. And he wasn't here.

With clammy palms, you surrendered your pride and unlocked your phone to call Harry. The last text he had sent was at 4:37. It read: Won't be home until late tonight. Don't know what time. I'm sorry. Out of frustration, you had left him with no response.

The ringing tone droned, and you held no hope that he'd answer. Realistically, there was no open opportunity to take a phone call in a fast-paced restaurant kitchen. The cogs needed to be moving at all times—otherwise, the wheel would splinter. You had accepted it years ago.

When you first started dating Harry, it was strenuous finding time for each other. On a lucky day, you'd talk to him during his lunch break. Weekends had bestowed the moments that made the relationship flourish. It should have gotten more manageable after all these years, but as a new mother, it wasn't something you could handle like a champ anymore.

Therein lay the problem: You had become too comfortable with having Harry home for twelve weeks. Calibrating to the changes that parenthood presented was much easier with a dedicated husband ready to face them with you. It had been a luxury to be a team from sunrise to sunset and every nocturnal hour that you both had spent devoid of energy. Your steadfast lover.

"Hello?"

You jolted, surprised to hear Harry's voice. It caused relief and rage to clash within you—not a pleasurable combination. "How much longer are you working?"

His sigh was smothered by scattered voices speaking in the background and kitchenware clanging noisily. "I don't know. We're finishing the dinner rush, and there's still loads of cleaning to do. Trust me, I've been trying to make an exit for the past two hours, but the orders keep coming."

"I need you here, Harry," you said shakily. "I can't do this by myself."

"Do what by yourself? What's goin' on?"

Rage won the internal battle and staked its claim over your sensibility. "Seriously? I have a baby that won't stop crying, a husband that has been missing in action for the past three hours, and I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"You never texted me back," Harry said, sounding like his focus was split half on the conversation and half on whatever task he was doing. "Have you tried walking her around outside? Maybe some fresh air will help."

You stood and started pacing around the room. "I tried that. I need your help. She wants nothing to do with me."

"Honey, I... I can't right now. I have to be here."

"Please," you begged, panic crawling up your throat. Could he even hear the baby crying on your end? How could he possibly understand your crisis through a muddled phone call? "I'm telling you I need you now."

"And I'm telling you I have a kitchen to run," he replied firmly. His tone softened when he added, "If I could leave right now, I would. It's just not viable when it's been this busy."

You stayed silent, chewing on his weak explanation. All your pent-up exasperation was simmering and had nowhere to go, so you infused your next words with it. "You're being neglectful."

"What?" Harry said. You could picture him with that cute little divot between his eyebrows, except the reasoning behind it wasn't so cute this time. "Wait, hold on, hold on. Say that again? Shit, I can't focus." A loud clattering of metal punctuated his rambling.

There was no fight left in you. Numbly, you walked over to the bay window and watched the ocean tide swell under the full moon. "Never mind. Go finish what's clearly more important."

"Listen, it's hard to hear you in here. Can I call you back in... um, I don't know, fifteen minutes?" He didn't seem angry and didn't sense the urgency you were conveying. He just seemed distracted, and it felt like a bruising kick while you were already down.

"Bye, Harry." You hung up, not regretting your stubbornness. His communication during the day had been meager. He should have known to keep you in the loop after three hours of waiting for him to come home. You had hung on by a thread and wondered if this would become the norm. You thought he was done with his old tendencies of being a yes-man.

What mattered to you the most was that Harry knew when to put family first, and tonight, you and your daughter were put on the back burner.

With two tears slipping down your cheeks, you succumbed to the feeling of utter helplessness.

——

Harry unlocked the front door, trying to recall the last time he had come home at nine-thirty at night. Surely months ago, when you were heavily pregnant and couldn't sleep. He had taken you for slow drives around the neighborhood and played with your hair in hopes of lulling you into a deep slumber. Worked like a charm.

God, he knew you were pissed at him. He was in the doghouse for good reason. Usually, you'd greet him at the door, happy to see him. Now, the quiet bounced off the walls uncannily.

He had been barely able to concentrate on anything while in the thick of dinner service. Too many stressors flew around the kitchen like bullets. It had been the absolute worst moment to respond to your panicked phone call. Why had he said yes to staying late? The agreement was to work from seven to five, Tuesday through Friday. He failed you today, and it killed him.

Ever since the baby was born, Harry had turned into a homebody. He loved seeing every room hold signs of his baby girl. Milk bottles in the refrigerator; tiny onesies in the washer; storybooks on the nursery's rocking chair; the tummy time mat on the living room carpet; the foldable bathtub in the kitchen sink (he planned to research if adults could use baby shampoo since the smell was irresistible). He'd gotten so attached to the routine that it came as no surprise—his first week back at work had been hell. He'd messed up several times, struggling to get back in the groove. His hands moved slower, his mind on overload as he caught up to the twelve weeks he missed. Everything there felt foreign. It sparked a realization that nothing came as close to feeling natural as being a dad did.

Harry shook his head to clear the tornado whirling around his brain and turned the kitchen light on. He immediately spotted his plate of dinner waiting for him, a depressing reminder of his broken vow.

An awful feeling sank like a stone in his stomach. This was all wrong. It was supposed to go like this: Harry, ravenous and in dire need of affection, would arrive home at five, the sun still shining. He'd kiss you in the foyer as you passed over his daughter. She'd coo happily, the weight of her in his arms a precious comfort. He'd carry her and entertain her with silly voices and other theatrical dad antics before getting started on cooking dinner. Then the night would slowly progress, and as everyone's eyes grew heavy with sleep, he'd wait until you were done nursing before burping a full-bellied baby and setting her in the bassinet.

And who was to blame for blowing that beautiful sequence to smithereens? This guy.

When Harry reached the hallway, he shivered. Was the window open? There was a chilly draft floating around, and when he peeked his head past the bedroom doorway, his assumptions were proven correct. There you were on the cushioned windowsill seat, the glittering moonlight illuminating your sleeping frame as you held his baby girl against your chest. She was asleep as well, with her limbs tucked all cozily in your motherly embrace. Harry just stood and watched for a minute, the day's stress cascading off his shoulders. Home. This was what remained the most paramount part of his life. He needed to apologize before you formed a grudge.

He didn't want to wake you or the baby, especially considering the overwhelming night you had helmed, so he hopped in the shower to contemplate the best way to handle... whatever had occurred over the phone. Harry knew that the postpartum phase was treating you roughly—your anxiety was a tight string ready to snap at any moment. He hadn't fully grasped the reality of you doing the bedtime routine alone. How hard it probably had been with a baby experiencing major sleep regression. He'd thought you using the word neglectful was harsh, but it was fair.

With a cleansed body and mind, Harry exited the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist. The breeze blowing in from the open window was too brisk for his liking, so he walked over and reached past you to close it. It squeaked, and he winced when you stirred awake. He stalled his movements as you came into consciousness, slowly and with weariness.

How motherhood looked on you was a thing of beauty. Even in the most ordinary moments, you were radiant, emanating warmth and solace. You were this family's guiding light.

Eventually, you swung your legs over the edge of the windowsill seat and stared at him blankly. Guilt struck Harry speechless, and all he could do was sink to his knees and press his face into your shin, like Stephan Sinding's Adoration. "Please forgive me, baby," he murmured, kissing the almond-scented skin there. "I'm so sorry. There's no excuse."

When you remained silent, Harry lifted his face and looked at you. The sight of your expression crumpling and tears welling in your eyes shattered his heart. He got up to sit beside you, pulling you and your daughter into a remorseful hug. "I've made you cry. I'm awful, aren't I?"

You sniffled. "No, you're not. I just don't understand."

"Can I try to explain?" he asked.

You nodded and let your head fall limply on his shoulder. Harry was grateful you weren't shunning him. After pressing a soft kiss to your temple, he said, "You needed me tonight, and I fell short as your husband and as her father." He stroked his baby girl's back, his palm nearly covering the entirety of it. "It was an unexpectedly chaotic day at work, and I... I don't know, it's like I forgot how to hold the reins. All my skill retention just vanished. It was bizarre, and I'm sure it has to do with being sleep-deprived, but it shouldn't have pushed me to stay late. I should've put family first, and I'm sorry you felt neglected. That wounds me to hear that." He grabbed your hand and held it against his heart, leaning down to kiss your knuckles tenderly. "So, from now on, I will be home for dinner. I will be here for bedtime. I will be here when you need me, for whatever reason. Because when you hurt, I hurt. And I don't ever want to make you feel like that again. Don't want you to doubt starting a family with me."

You were crying against his neck, and Harry couldn't tell if it was a good or bad sign. Every word he had said was honest. Poured straight from his soul. It was a vow to be better and to learn from his mistakes. The adjustment from a blissful four months experiencing fatherhood at home to transitioning right into a forty-hour workweek had been messy, and it still would be in the weeks to come, so he hoped you understood that he was trying. It would all balance out soon enough. It just took time.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," Harry whispered to you. His daughter was making whiny noises now, so he carefully took her from your arms and cuddled her close. It felt like his vital purpose.

Meanwhile, you inhaled a few deep breaths to collect yourself. Your hand gripped the towel around his waist, and you gasped before saying, "This whole time, I thought you were naked."

He laughed, thankful for the brief levity. "I think you're still dreaming, sleepyhead." A small smile lifted your lips, and he had no choice but to kiss them. He'd been gone for far too long today.

"I forgive you," you said quietly. "I trust that you won't let this become a habit. I think there were heightened emotions from both of us, for valid reasons, and I found it hard to communicate exactly what I needed."

"You needed me," Harry replied, feeling guilt creep its way back into his mind.

"I know, but I can't always expect you to drop everything when you're needed elsewhere. That's not fair."

He nodded. "Still, you're my partner. It's my responsibility to make you feel adored, and since I blundered that today, how about if I take all the night shift duties this weekend?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, relief softening your facial features. "That would make me feel very adored."

"Yeah?" He kissed your forehead. "And since tomorrow's Saturday, I think I'll treat you to breakfast in bed."

You hummed, pleased as punch. "Tell me more."

"We'll sit on the porch swing and drink coffee," he continued, the domestic visualization sending a rush of heat through him. "Watch the sunrise and listen to the mourning doves."

"No, I meant tell me more about treating me to things in bed."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Harry said through an amused laugh. "Are we talking about innocent bed activities, or...?"

You were in a reverie, no doubt thinking of not-so-innocent activities. "Remember our wedding night when we tried using that—" A sudden and sharp wail sliced through your sentence, and in Harry's mind, he caught a brief flash of the memory: you, perched seductively on the living room sofa in the newly purchased beach house, more breathtaking than the ocean view in the distance. Harry, unable to believe he had found you and got to treasure your love for life. And yeah... he couldn't possibly forget that ridiculous toy he'd been gifted with at his bachelor party. Moving on.

"Let's all get some sleep so we can act alive tomorrow," Harry said. When he stood to start rocking the baby, the loosened towel dropped to the floor, leaving him stark naked in the moonlight. You giggled, and the sound was like a shot of bliss straight into his veins. He laughed too, drowsiness finally hitting him. It'd be a long night ahead, and although he would likely rack up a measly four hours of sleep, knowing he'd wake up beside you and have only dad-related obligations for the next three days made it sound peachy.

For the first time that day, a sense of calmness washed over him. Home, sweet home.

——

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hair

Irene Paredes x Child!Reader

Summary: You help your Mami when she gets a red

You’ve travelled with Mami for once.

Mama is at home with your little brother Matteo but you’re not really worried.

You’re a good traveller. Mami says so because you were born when she used to play in France so you’re used to going back and forth between countries. You know how to amuse yourself by playing or doing your homework or your reading.

Mami says you’re very responsible.

Since coming home to Spain and to Barcelona, you’ve not travelled as much. You’ve stayed with Mama at home even though travelling and going on planes is much more interesting.

You don’t know why Mami decided you could come with her this time but you have and you’re happy.

Or you were happy until Mami got her red card.

You’re not quite sure what happened apart from the fact that her leg was too high.

You know all about high legs.

At Taekwondo, your teacher explains all about how head shots are very dangerous because the head is a very important part of your body and that’s why people wear caps to protect them during sparring.

You’re still kind of small (but growing all the time!) so you’re not allowed to do any head shots of your own. But you know they’re dangerous and you know Mami is not going to argue her card even if someone else will.

“Mami?”

“Go back to the bench, squirt,” Irene says as she breezes past you to the locker rooms.

When you were younger, that used to work but you’re nearly eight now and Mama says you’re moving under your own power so you think that means that Mami’s orders don’t work on your anymore.

“No!” You say stamping your foot right in the tunnel.

Irene scrubs a hand over her face as she turns around to face you. “I don’t have the patience to deal with a tantrum right now, squirt. Go back to the bench and finish watching.”

You stamp your foot again. “I’m not having a tantrum, you’re having a tantrum!”

Irene sighs. “If you come with me now, you’re not allowed back out. We stay in the locker room. But you can keep watching the match if you head back outside.”

Your foot goes again. “With you.”

You’d inherited her stubbornness, Irene notes. Her hair. Her eyes. The tight set of her jaw. And her stubbornness.

Irene holds her hand out for you. You take it.

You’re a different beast to your brother.

Matteo is still small, still practically a baby. She and Lucia had been worried about the age gap between you both. At nearly eight, you towered over him with your toys and your rambunctious nature.

You were not unlike Lucy and Keira’s (and increasingly Ona's) Pup but maybe a bit lower energy now that you’re gotten older. More disciplined is what Lucia would say, now that you’ve had your energy redirected into Taekwondo. Disciplined and strangely emotionally intelligent.

Irene supposes she should pat herself on the back with that. She’d never agreed with hitting kids even if it’s a little scuff on the back of the head to redirect them. No whacks, no spanks, no hits.

She talked your through your emotions and now that you were older, you were able to talk her through them too.

You hold her hand now as she walks back to the locker room.

“Mami, are we showering?”

“Aren’t you a bit too old to shower with me, squirt?” She teases, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. “You’re nearly eight now.”

You puff out your chest at the reminder. “I’m not going in with you! Just wanted to know.”

“I’m going to shower. You can take a shower if you want but you have to come into mine if you’re going to be washing your hair.”

You tug at the end of your braid.

Lucia likes your hair long and Irene has to admit that she does too.

You’d come out with a full head of hair, screaming and crying your arrival to the world as Irene panted from all the energy she’d spent pushing you out. Screaming, crying, with thick hair as you were gently rest on her chest.

Your hair had remained just as thick as then, growing quickly to the point that regular trips to get it cut were needed.

But washing it was always a challenge. Lots of shampoo. Lots of conditioner. Lots of time spent in the tub trying to get it all washed.

It’s part of the reason why it’s done in the morning too. You hate the hairdryer but you hate sleeping with wet hair even more so washing it is always done in the morning so it can air dry before bed.

“Wash my hair?” You ask and Irene nods.

“You’ll have to shower with me then if we’re washing your hair. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Alright, squirt. Let’s go.”

Irene’s original plan was to drown herself in the shower, to stay there until the match was over and she could finally face her teammates again. The red card was justified, she knows that but it doesn’t mean there isn’t still a bit of a sting.

She was happy to leave you on the bench, safe with the others so Irene could wash away her anger and resentment while you were occupied.

But now you’re here with her, asking to have your hair washed and looking up at her like you just know she needs something like this to keep occupied.

It’s an easy routine to get through, to lather her hands with shampoo and massage it into your scalp. To wash it all out before moving onto the conditioner.

Two rounds of conditioner and you look up at her with a smile.

“I can wash your hair now, Mami?” You ask and Irene laughs, pushing away the wet strands from your face.

“I think you’re a little small to be doing that, squirt.”

You puff out your cheeks. “Are you sure? I’ve definitely grown since Mama last measured me!” To demonstrate, you stretch up to your tiptoes and reach as high as you can.

“Maybe when you’re taller,” Irene says placidly,” Come on. Grab your towel and we’ll get out.”

Irene’s just gotten yours and her own clothes on by the time that everyone else has arrived.

“Whoa,” Jenni says as she comes in,” You’re dripping everywhere, squirt!”

Irene sighs as she turns around. “You should have seen just how wet it was earlier. Absolutely everywhere.”

“We can tell,” Codi snickers,” There’s a river to the showers.”

“I’ve braided it back again,” Irene offers up weakly as she watches Alexia crouch in front of you.

“You know you’ll have to sleep with that wet hair,” Alexia reminds you.

You giggle. “No, I won’t. We call Mama and Matteo tonight. Mama will see my hair. She won’t let Mami put me to bed with wet hair. She says it’s naughty.”

“Devious,” Alexia says approvingly.

You high five her and look back at Irene, who shakes her head fondly at you.

“We’ll be having words about your eversion to the hairdryer.” She wiggles her finger teasingly at you and you grin.

You stick your tongue out. “You have to talk to Mama first.”

[irndad]

a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?” 

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with. 

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them. 

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks. 

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me. 

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response. 

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it. 

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office. 

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief. 

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share. 

He does not want to call Maeve. 

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess. 

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it. 

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now. 

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this. 

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him. 

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up. 

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount. 

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to  cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable. 

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life. 

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back. 

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits. 

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back. 

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything. 

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.