#the scenes this weekend will not be forgotten
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incredible how the fia tried everything they could to hand this win to lando only for him to bottle it and finish behind the guy that started 17th, two alpines, and george and charles driving with hopes and prayers
#the scenes this weekend will not be forgotten#max verstappen#charles leclerc#anti lando norris#f1#brazilian gp 2024#k
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Steve holds hands for wip Wednesday 💜
thank you so much <3 sorry this is so late, I got stuck on all my writing but it is actually Wednesday today so better timing right (right?)
Steve hums in agreement, "but hey, at least we can keep each other company.” Eddie can’t help himself. He never can but especially not around Steve, he’s like a goddamn siren, or catnip. So he smirks, slants a look at him and in a voice that comes out deeper and raspier than he meant asks, “oh yeah? And what kind of company would that be?” But then, because this is Steve he backtracks, diffuses, “I could tell you about the new campaign I’m planning. I’m thinking no monsters, no fighting. Just a good happy time for everyone.” Steve peers up at him, that frown back between his eyebrows but now there’s also a glint in his eyes. One Eddie has only seen flashes off before, not now though, now it stays. Steve looks at him with interest, with determination. “You keep doing that.” He looks between Eddie’s eyes, searching and keeping him pinned on the spot. “You keep saying all these things filled with intent and meaning.” Eddie swallows, can’t look away. “But then nothing happens, you just switch topics, pretend like nothing. Gives me whiplash man” “I- um,” he stammers, tries to find something to say, and finally lands on, “Sorry?” Steve sits up on his elbows, still not breaking eye contact, “I just wonder why you do it?” Because you’re Steve Harrington. Because not only are you hot but so pretty that I don’t actually understand it. Because you’re so fucking kind, so caring, so good, that I can’t help but flirt even though I shouldn’t. Eddie shrugs, “dunno.”
(very late) WIP weekend (or Wednesday)/make me write
#thank you so so much for this#after wyns post about Edward Cullen speak in steddie fics i really stuggled not having Eddie compare Steve to his personal brand of her-#idk if i can write that in the tags or if they'll mess with me- sometimes the tags do that so mmh that quote u know yeah#almost wrote 'catnip. But specifically made for Eddie." and then i was like...wait a minute here that sounds familiar and yeah#if this seems inconsistent with the snippet i've posted it's bc this is not chronologically written so yeah#me working on every wip again 'oh id forgotten how much i like this' like yeah wow what a revelation i like my own ideas....#i am getting to the smut- to the hand holding it is in progress it is#like scene after this is first time they have sex so...we are getting there (it's what the snipped ive posted before is part of)#momotonescreaming#ask#wip game#wip weekend#wip wednesday#my writing#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#dels steddie thoughts
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hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.
I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.
thanks! I love your account btw!
In The Sea
Summery: the anon
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: grammar mistakes
A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx
You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.
You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.
“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.
“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.
“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.
“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.
“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.
“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.
“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?”
“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.
“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.
“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.
“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.
You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.
“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper.
Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.
“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.
“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.
“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,
“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,
“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.
Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.
“holy shit”
“Jesus JJ what's your problem”
“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.
JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw. “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.
After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.
You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.
“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.
“great” he sighed.
“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion”
“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,
“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”
“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed.
“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.
For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.
Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.
John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.
“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.
You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.
Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.
You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.
Has you were about to close the door you hear him.
“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him.
You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.
“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.
The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.
“That's not good,” John B says.
“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.
“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.
“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max.
The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.
Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.
“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.
“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.
“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.
“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.
“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.
“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.
The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.
You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.
“Cut me loose” he begs.
Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.
“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.
“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.
You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,
“Something is wrong I have to go see!”
“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.
You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.
This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.
The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.
Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.
“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother
“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.
“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.
A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.
With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.
“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.
You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.
“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.
“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.
The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.
“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.
“You jumped after me,” you whispered.
“Of course I did” You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful.
His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.
The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch.
Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.
When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.
“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.
Send request xxx
#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron#rafe obx
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having gossip sessions with charles while doing skincare and face masks. i’m really convinced he’s a little gossip girl at heart, like he’ll fill you in on all the drama that’s going on with the other drivers and he just looooves to listen to you yap
the way i giggled and kicked my feet with excitement when this appeared in my inbox omg.
allow me to set the scene: it’s the early hours of the morning. charles caught a late flight to wherever you are in the world after a race weekend with a promise that he had so much to tell you about everything that transpired in the days you were apart. you, of course, promised him the same, and thus waiting up for him was much less of a task than usual due to your excitement.
the moment he walks in, you waste no time in pulling him into your embrace, and he responds in kind, his luggage forgotten about by the door until the morning. he’ll follow you to the bathroom where you’ve set up a line of skincare products and face masks and immediately starts to fill you in on all the drama while you start to do his skincare for him. after race weekends like australia, you know he’s giving you every last detail. his reaction to max’s dnf, what he heard from other drivers afterwards, how ferrari celebrated their 1-2 finish. he’ll also tell you about what drivers definitely did not go out and get plastered at the club, and how they did not make absolute fools of themselves because of it. he probably has videos that he will be more than enthusiastic to share.
but as much as he loves to talk, he loves hearing you talk more. he could listen to you talk about anything for the rest of his life, honestly. he will insist that you tell him every little detail about all the gossip you gathered during your time apart as he delicately places a face mask on you, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration even while you’re smack talking people. and don’t think he just sits there and listens— he has the most dramatic reactions, and if you need him to play a part for a reenactment of something, this man will perform.
you will never have a better gossip buddy than charles leclerc. that is a promise.
#aries answers#anon <3#request#charles leclerc x reader#cl16 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader
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I KNOW PLACES ✮ LN4
pairing: Lando Norris x gf!reader (secret dating & childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris and (Y/N) just started their relationship after years being best friends, but they are afraid that making things public might ruin what they worked so hard to build (based on 'I Know Places' by Taylor Swift) words: 3.8K - warnings: a few swear words and pure fluff! author's notes: Back into the fanfiction world, this time stepping into my newest obsession: F1. I hope you enjoy this new era!
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You stand with your hand on the waistline. It's a scene and we're all here in plain sight. I can hear them whisper as we pass by. It's a bad sign.
(Y/N) didn't know what was happening to her body. Maybe it was the hot weather in Monaco for the race weekend, or the small amount of breakfast she had before leaving the house. But every inch of her being was tingling, and it felt weird being under her skin. Out of all the times she had ever stepped into a Formula One paddock, this was the first one she ever felt like she was about to faint. After all, everyone was onto to find out her little secret.
Lando Norris, her best friend since she was only four, was at the McLaren garage when she arrived with all of his other friends. He was just doing his job; talking to sponsors and being the sunshine boy he has always been, making a good impression on people that needed to be impressed by him. But the conversation between Zac Brown and one of his team’s investors was long forgotten when his eyes spotted (Y/N) in the middle of the crowd.
She was simply walking alongside Max and his girlfriend, Pietra, when their eyes crossed in the paddock. Lando cracked the biggest smile and fixed his eyes on hers for a second, only to get his attention called by Zac again. He was soon dragged into the conversation again, only to be dismissed a few seconds later. Then, he played a whole scene, worthy of a goodman Oscar film.
The wind was blowing on his hair as he paraded towards her in the paddock, his curls moving beautifully with the pace. His hands were resting on his waistline, one of them sneaking under his McLaren shirt. She always thought he looked beautiful in his work attired, but damn it, this time Lando looked flawless in them. He had a soft smile resting on his lips and he could feel the heart beating out of his chest, wanting to jump onto (Y/N) from the second he saw her. Yet, he played it cool for the entire walk towards her. Nobody could know about them.
At that point, it had been three months and a couple of weeks since Lando and (Y/N) had finally got together after years of unconditional love and pinning after the other. They had met at a very early age, when their fathers used to golf at the same field every Saturday morning, and had been best friends ever since. After a while, they just couldn’t deny that their friendship had become something else, after years of her coming to all of his races in karting, F3 and, later on, F1. After all the times he rooted for her in university and had taken care of her when things got too rough. They just couldn’t deny they were in love with each other.
But Lando’s experiences with public relationships hadn’t been exactly… pleasant. So they both agree, after much talk, to keep it a secret from everyone to not ruin anything between them. This was too precious, and delicate, to have the bad energy bring them down right at the beginning of things. And ever since then, they had been so good at doing so. Yet, his fans had caught that something had shifted in the long term friendship. So now, they had to be very, extremely, careful.
“Took you too long”, he commented, shrugging as he stood right in front of (Y/N).
“Max was really enjoying the courtesy breakfast from the hotel”, she smiled at him, looking at his face right through her lashes. Lando just couldn’t help it, thinking she looked too cute, and he wrapped his arms around her, face burying in the crook of her neck.
“I’m glad you’re here”, he kept his voice low, only for her to hear it.
“Always”, she sneaked a kiss on his cheek before he moved onto talking to Max and Pietra.
Lando has showed affection for (Y/N) so many times before, with the hugs and tiny kisses here and there, but everybody knew it was different this time. Maybe it was the long starings or how they’d linger longer on the hugs. Or maybe it was him wanting to be around her every second he could. But the gossip social media pages and the whispers were getting louder. (Y/N) noticed it when they walked towards the McLaren motorhome, one of his hands soft resting in the middle of her back.
“Did you see that?” One girl whispered to her friend as she passed by, but (Y/N) couldn’t listen to the reply. All the whispers were deafening, and she wanted to scream. They weren’t a good sign.
Something happens when everybody finds out. See the vultures circling, dark clouds. Love’s a fragile little flame, it could burn out.
When Lando finally closed the doors to his driver room, (Y/N) felt the weight being lifted from her shoulders. She audibly sighed, and her boyfriend looked at her in worry. For a second, they looked at each other and laughed at their situation. They were damned.
“They are 100% onto us”, (Y/N) whined and Lando agreed with a nod, before pulling his girl for a hug. “Shit, we were doing so great with the hiding. I thought it was really going to last”.
“My fans should be hired as private investigators, I swear to God”, he joked before pulling her face up for a kiss. “Didn’t get a good morning one when I woke up”.
“Well, I can’t help it if you’re an early bird”, she giggled, leaving countless small pecks on his lips again. “I was tired from last night”.
“I finish you off just good, didn’t I?” He cheekily smirked before turning to his closet, pulling the fireproof undergarments he was required to wear before the suit.
“I didn’t need to know that”, Max commented as he opened the door and quickly was scoffed by Lando.
“Didn’t invite you to the conversation, mate. Get the fuck off my room!” Lando joked, but Max still found his spot on the couch. Pietra came in a few seconds later, settling close to (Y/N) just so they could laugh at the boys.
“We came in to say good luck on the race”, Pietra said, pulling Lando for a quick hug. “We know we’re late and that you need a moment with our girl. But just wanted to wish you the best”.
“She came to wish you the best. I came for the A/C”, Max joked, closing his eyes with the nice temperature of the room. Lando threw a cushion at him, making everyone laugh. Their brotherhood was the best. “But you know, we’ll be rooting for you and shit”.
“I know, mate”, Lando held his hand out to Max, who got up with his friends help. Even though they banter all the time, the boys hugged and smiled with their interaction. Just like (Y/N), Max had been there for Lando for as long as he could remember.
“We’ll let you alone with your lucky charm”, Max winked at (Y/N), who smiled widely at him.
They had barely closed the door when Lando attacked his girlfriend’s lips once again. (Y/N) was taken by surprise when she got lifted off the floor once again, but quickly melted into the kiss, slowing the speed down just to the soft pace that she liked.
“Easy there”, she said against his lips.
“My lucky charm”, he said back, not stopping the kiss for a single second. “Gonna make me get a podium just by being here. I got pole yesterday just because of you”.
“That’s what I’m talking about”, she smiled, breaking the kiss apart to speed him up. “Come on, you need to get dressed”.
“Wanna see me naked that badly?”, he joked, taking off his shirt to start changing into his race attired.
“I don’t need that. I already saw it last night”, she winked and Lando melted, bursting into laughing.
“I love you because we have the same sense of humour”, he took off his trousers, giving his girlfriend the view he knew she wanted to see.
“Well, but it’s never a bad sight to see”, (Y/N) smiled. Behind closed doors, it was so easy for them to be a couple. Her heart felt safe and it was like no one in the world could harm them. But anxiety always gets the best of her. One moment she was laughing and joking, and the other she was on the verge of hyperventilation.
Lando noticed it, though. “What’s wrong with you?”, he sat next to her, only wearing his underwear, when he saw the quick change of humour on his girl. From the very first moment he laid her eyes on her in the paddock, he could sense she was off.
“I love you so much, you know?” (Y/N) let a tear fall down for relief, and Lando quickly wiped it off with his thumb. “I don’t want them to ruin what we have”.
“They won’t ruin this, I promise you”, he pressed a long kiss to her cheekbone and she spilled a few more salty tear, they met his lips in seconds. “You’re safe inside my heart”.
“I can just see them ruining this for us, you know? The public”, she admitted. “The whispers and the blurry distanced images on social media. The comments.”
“I told you not to read the comments, baby”, Lando shook his head in disapproval and (Y/N) shrugged. “My love, this thing between us has been here for years. If everybody finds out, I will do everything that I can to protect you and what we have, okay? Don’t worry about it”.
“Okay”, she replied, hugging him once again. “I love you, Lan”.
“I love you too. So much”, he admitted, kissing the crown of her head.
Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.
Before he went on to continue with his pre-race routine, Lando stayed in his room for a while longer, just letting his girlfriend hold him for a little while. He was fucking terrified of the Monaco Grand Prix, specially because the race was very tricky; a driver against track kind of race. So having his girl alongside him calmed his heart. He had pole position. He was going to make it all worth it.
“Remember that I’m always with you”, she kissed him again before they got out of the room.
All Lando wanted to do was hold her hand until he was required to be inside his car, but since their situation was delicate and everyone already thought they were together, he just couldn’t risk it. So he held her hand for as long as he could, but had to let it go by the time they got close to the sea of photographers, all waiting for the pilots. (Y/N) stayed behind, ready to meet Max and Pietra to watch the race from the hospitality. He got one last look at her, who waved at him, giving a shot of confidence to his body. He could do it. And most importantly, he was going to give everything to bring this win to his girl.
Max quickly found (Y/N) lost between the crowd and pulled her to sit with all of Lando’s friends. The race was about to start, and the cars would be out at any second now. And yet, all she could think of was a group of people, sitting right behind her, and whispering while staring at her back. Annoyed, she turned around and squinted her eyes at them, making the group shut up. They were one hundred percent talking about Lando and her; it was visible because of the way they stared at her wrist, with one of his bracelets shinning brightly for the whole world to see. She brought it up to her hand, holding the number 4 charm between her fingers. It would be fine.
“I know why you’re like this for the entire morning”, Max whispered close to her ear. “Don’t worry about people. He loves you so much. Nothing bad is going to happen”.
“Yeah, I know that”, she nodded at him. “I love him so much too”.
(Y/N) let go of the bracelet, only to hold Max’s hands. They had been best friends too for the longest time. So after Lando, he was the one who provided her so much comfort and safety. Pietra did too, so it was nice when she left her post next to her boyfriend to hug (Y/N).
Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide.
Lando wasn’t a great fan of alcohol, but the taste of champagne on his lips after finishing P2 in Monaco felt so good. A weight taken off his shoulders to have finished on the podium. It wasn’t a win, but it was definitely the best result he had in his mind. “I’m just glad I finished the race”, he thought.
Staring down the podium, he found his girlfriend standing so excitedly for him, jumping up and down with the result. And as if it was possible, his smile widened at the sight and he shook the bottle to splash just enough to reach her downstairs. He was so happy. Genuinely happy, on top of the world, and no one was going to bring him down.
The post race interviews were taking too long for him, who desperately wanted to celebrate with his team, his friends and (Y/N). But when his PR team finally called him back to the garage, he went rushing to see the people he adored the most. He hugged a few people from his team as he arrived, and Max was the first friend he found and shared a long hug. From over his bestie’s shoulders, he spotted (Y/N) standing behind, with proud tears brimming her eyes and a big smile painted on her face. Lando immediately let go off Max and pulled his girlfriend just to hold her for a few seconds.
They could hear the cameras clicking around them and the people calling Lando, but he was in a trance. When (Y/N) was there, it was like the entire world didn’t exist. He was P2 in Monaco; the race that stresses him out so much from the very early moments of his career. And his girlfriend, the person he loved the most in the world since he was a little kid, was there to celebrate it with him. Life couldn’t get any better.
“My boy”, she whispered in his ear, her mouth very well hidden between them so no one could read her lips. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much”.
“Thank you for being here. I love you more, baby”, his lips were also hidden, and it pained him that he just couldn’t openly say those words to her. “I can’t wait to kiss you, oh my God. I’m going insane”.
“Just a few more minutes”, she held his face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving space for other friends to talk to him.
Zac Brown took the longest time with Lando, giving him the post race pep talk he always needed. And by the end of it, at the rush of the moment, he admitted his new relationship to his boss, who laughed at the admission.
“I knew you were head over heels for this girl”, Zac said, giving Lando a few taps on the shoulder.
“We’re just keeping it a secret, between the closest friends, so nobody can ruin it”, Lando added to his confession. “But, yeah, (Y/N) is my dream girl and you know me. Can’t keep shit from anyone. I just wanted you to know”.
“Go celebrate it with her! You still have a few hours until we fly to Spain for the next race. Take her somewhere nice”.
“Where? This whole city is crowded with paparazzi and cameras. I just can’t risk it, Zac”.
“I know a place you can take her”.
Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences. Let them say what they want, we won’t hear it. Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.
His driver room was getting too small to fit his love for (Y/N), and Lando felt like those four walls would eventually burst from the flames of his heart. He was getting irritated by having to hide it from everyone. But having her holding him and pressing delicate kisses to his face made him feel like everything was going to be just fine.
“I want to go out to celebrate it with you. Properly, as boyfriend and girlfriend”.
“Very funny, Lan”, she crossed her arms and he arched his brows at her attitude. “If you can magically find a public place, we can just be boyfriend and girlfriend without the prying eyes, I’ll gladly let you take me there”.
“Lucky for you, I have the best boss in the world.”
The paddock was absolute mayhem after the race, specially the bridge that connects it to the marina, where all the boats were anchored for the weekend. Lando tried to be subtle with (Y/N), not holding her hand as they walked in public, but after almost losing her among the people and the cameras flashing on his eyes. With much effort, he found her hands and laced them together, just so they wouldn’t get lost.
“Lando, what are you doing? People will see us”.
“Let them say what they want. I don’t fucking care”, he tightened his hold on her hand and dragged her to the marina. There were a lot of parties happening around the docks, with people enjoying their time post race to get drunk with other millionaires, who travelled all the way to Monaco for the luxury of the weekend. (Y/N) was actually very confused with where they were going.
“Why are we here?” She frowned, but he ignored, too busy looking for Zac around the place. His boss was waiting next to the boat, talking to the people who take care of his boat. A smile flashed on Lando’s face when he saw that everything was already arranged perfectly for him.
“Lando! (Y/N)! It’s all nice and ready for you”, Zac smiled at the girl, taking her hand to shake. “I talked to the commander, they are going to take you to a private place and I made sure they had a nice dinner prepped for you two, okay?”
“You’re the best, Zac. Thank you so much”, Lando hugged his boss and then let it go to help his girlfriend get into the boat. “And please delay my flight for another day, boss!”
“I’ll try my best, kid”
Lando and (Y/N) hid inside the boat while it shipped away from the shore. They were served with champagne as they waited for their getaway. Their boat was very tiny compared to the other ones that were anchored for the race weekend, but it was enough for a couple getaway for the night. Zac probably paid the team to keep their mouth shut and, that way, they could enjoy being together outside his flat for once.
“Okay, this is perfect”, she giggled, pressing a kiss to Lando’s collarbone, exposed by his button-up shirt. “God, today was so stressful for me. I’m actually tired”.
“Oh, me too”, he giggled. “I mean, I’m getting tired of all the hiding. Kind of want to go around screaming that I have the best girl in the world as my girlfriend”.
“Lando, we talked about this”. (Y/N) was afraid of the response she would get once they were public. If there’s someone who was going to suffer the consequences, it would be her. She would have to deal with the comments and the bad shit from the internet; not him.
“Loose lips sink ships”, he quoted the words his girlfriend said a few weeks before. “Not this time, okay? I won’t let people do this to you”.
Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.
Enjoying this night with each other had been a dream come true. The peace, the quietness and the privacy from the ocean was everything they need. Somehow it gave them hopes that, even though it was hard, everything was going to be alright. After having dinner, prepared by the boat’s chef, they decided to enjoy some alone time out on the boat.
Lando took some amazing pictures of (Y/N) on the boat and they had a really fun time doing a small photoshoot. They pushed each other playfully and threw compliments that easily heated up each other’s cheeks. Not to mention the funny faces she did for the camera, making him think he couldn’t love her more. She was it for him.
“I hate being a broken record, but I do think your fans are on the verge of finding out about us”, (Y/N) broke the silence between them, that was filled by soft music they put on for their small photoshoot. “I mean, right now, I can just see their miraculous minds creating theories of why we left holding hands today. Or why did you linger longer while hugging me after the race”.
“Do you trust me?” Lando put his hand out for her and she laced their fingers together, as a silent ‘yes’ for her boyfriend. “You need to stop thinking that going public is an absolute nightmare scenario, alright?”
“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”, she scrunched her nose and sighed. “I know. It’s just, I don’t know how you deal with the fame. It feels like we’re foxes and they are hunters, trying to catch us all the damn time”.
“Then we’ll keep running from them for as long as we need to”, Lando promised, pulling her closer to hug her.
(Y/N) took a moment to admire her boyfriend’s beauty. Her head resting on his shoulder and fingers trying to touch every inch of the skin of his face. “I’m so lucky to have you, Lan. It makes me feel so stupid that I waited too long to say that I loved you for the first time”.
“Well, I’m the luckiest too”, he said with the most beautiful smile on his face. “Without your endless support, and the love you sent me all day, I wouldn’t have performed so well today. Or any other day in my career. It doesn’t matter if you only get to kiss me now. You’ve been the most amazing person in my life for years now. I’m so glad I have you, (Y/N)”.
“I promise we don’t have to keep this a secrecy for much longer, okay?”, she rubbed circles on his cheekbone and looked between his eyes.
“We’ll run for as long as you need us to. And when you’re ready, the whole world will know how much I love you. I swear to God, I’ll buy thousands of drones to write a message in the sky just so everyone can know how much I love you”, he joked, making (Y/N). “But while you’re not ready, I know places we can hide”.
Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide. I know places…
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
⤿ add yourself to the taglist!
author's note: I don't have a taglist for F1 yet, so feel free to add yourself for future work! Hope to see you around soon. Come chat with me about the teams, I promise I'm nobody's hater on the grid.
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No Talking Zone LN4
bff!Lando x you :: just a bunch of bff fluff after a certain frustrating race weekend 750ish words masterlist
Lando had officially gone off grid for the night; no texts read, no missed phone calls returned. You weren't taking it personally, you were more than familiar with how Lando dealt with losses over the years but this one undoubtedly stung a little differently. You couldn't rest knowing how his internal monologue would be reeling negatively against himself and you had one tactic that would get him to talk.
A tentative knock on his door didn't appear to stir any movement from the other side, a second firmer knock on the hardwood earned some padding of footsteps from inside the room but still no acknowledgement. With an exasperated sigh to yourself at his blatant ignorance you decided to call out his name this time as you banged on the door with a balled up fist.
"I don't want any visitors," Lando weakly replied to the door. You were grateful he couldn't see your face scrunch up frustratedly in response to him.
"Let me in you idiot." This exact scene had been played between the two of you many times before and you were certain Lando knew you weren't going anywhere until he'd let you in. Raising your fist to the door- the door swung open before you had a chance to knock, a pouty faced Lando stood in the open door way.
"I'm not in the mood to talk," he mumbled barely opening his mouth. His eyes had lost their usual sparkle under heavy eyelids, many would succumb to his current innocent and vulnerable demeanour and lather him with pity and praise but your friendship with Lando was much more genuine and raw than that and you both appreciated it being so.
"Good. I don't want to talk," you challenged with a raised eyebrow. You motioned to the laptop that was placed under your arm, his eyes glanced at it before he defeatedly padded back through his room to the bed. You rolled your eyes at his continued stubborn silence, closing the door behind you and heading to the oversized bed jumping in place beside him setting the laptop down between you for the time being.
"This is a no talking zone," Lando declared monotone. Secretly you were glad he understood exactly why you were here, happy to let him think it was his idea. He lay directly on his back staring at the ceiling, hands on his torso, motionless. You could see and feel the tension and frustration coursing through him. You on the other hand were relaxed, scrolling through your phone. There was no such thing as awkward silence between you both, you knew all too well that sometimes all that is needed is company and that was always the purpose of the 'no talking zone'.
Lando stewed in place on the bed; gnawing at the inside of his lips, tapping his fingers against his knuckles, feet knocking the end of the bed. Restless. Agitated. Disrespected. Confused. Second-best. Second-place.
"You know I've done everything for that team," surprising himself as his internal monologue left his mouth. You briefly acknowledged his statement, glancing at him slightly, knowing it was best to stay quiet and let him talk his way out of his state. He still hadn't moved from his rigid position on the bed.
"Everything. My whole career, all the scut work when I started. I've dragged tractors around that track. I've declined numerous offers. All because I wanted to win with McLaren."
You slowly lowered your phone as Lando continued talking, "I know you have," quietly agreeing.
"You're probably one of few who do actually know. Clearly the team has forgotten. Did you see how big my gap was? Fucking-" Lando turned on his side to face you, a gentle smile on lips in support of your friend. Lando raked a hand through his dishevelled curls, "sorry, I just-"
You hushed him for apologising. "I saw the whole thing, Lan. Everyone did. It was shit, what they said to you on the radio for everyone to hear? Shit." Lando's heavy eyes looked at you, grateful.
"Thanks for coming and not talking with me," he muttered with a weak smile that almost reached his eyes. Fully aware that once again the no talking zone had worked exactly how you planned it to. Lando took the opportunity to open the laptop and find a film as you buried yourself under the duvet cover, him following and wrapping himself like a burrito.
"You always talk best in the no talking zone." You smirked, adding to the mental tally of how many times you had both been in the no talking zone. Some had taken place in a tent on a camping trip, others under separate blankets when there wasn't one big enough for two, self-made carboard dens and under the table at a restaurant was a more bizarre environment when you were much younger.
Places and reasons may change, but you and Lando would never truly outgrow the "no talking zone".
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Best Friends Share Everything || Carlando
Pairing: boyfriend!Lando Norris x fem!reader x Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: Blame the jet lag or blame the small couch but proximity makes for strange happenings on a late night with your boyfriend and his best friend. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, no actual smut - just build up WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist
Your head was resting on Lando’s lap while he watched whatever movie it was that he chose to calm his jet lag. He had slept for most of the flight back from Australia and now he couldn’t sleep despite the late hour. You were more interested in dozing periodically and enjoying the back rubs he unknowingly gave you every time the action scenes ramped up.
“Hey mate, you’re up late,” he greeted Carlos and you opened your eyes to see him stumbling into the room with a yawn.
“No puedo dormir,” he grumbled, as you curled your legs up before he dropped heavily into the space he had claimed as his seat.
“Can’t sleep,” you translated since the only Spanish your boyfriend knew was ‘I’m a lake’ and ‘sorry’. And he only knew sorry so he could apologise when he butchered the language.
“I swear it’s getting worse,” Lando commiserated with a nod. “If I go to sleep now I’ll pay for it tomorrow.”
The jet lag from constant travelling you could handle, but what you were struggling with was space on the three seater couch. You didn’t want to have to sit up since you were more comfortably lying down, so you stretched your legs back out, popping them down on Carlos’ lap.
“Can you please tuck me in?” you asked as you wiggled your toes. The blanket hadn’t moved with your feet and so the cool air was kissing them and making your entire body cold.
“That’s a job for your boyfriend,” he joked before pulling the blanket over his lap so he could steal the warmth too.
“Eh,” Lando shrugged, his eyes glued to the tv as he waved a hand in his direction. “Best friend’s share everything, I’m sure you can manage that.”
The words were purposeful and you frowned at the familiarity of them, like you had heard them somewhere but since forgotten.
“¿Todo?” Carlos chuckled, grabbing your foot that had shifted on his lap when you wriggled to get comfortable. You lifted your head to look at the Spaniard and met his dark eyes as he started to massage you, his thumbs working deep into your sole until a low sound escaped your lips.
“Shh, babe,” Lando hushed as he grabbed your head and laid it back down on his lap, his fingers idling brushing the column of your neck.
You bit your lip but it wasn’t long before you couldn’t help the sounds slipping through. Lando could probably feel your pulse speeding up beneath his fingers as Carlos’ massage began to glide up your ankle.
“Baby,” Lando murmured quietly as he placed one hand over your mouth, his thumb stroking your cheek, and the other grabbed the remote, increasing the volume on the tv.
You should have done something, said something, when his hands reached your calves but they felt good as they eased the tension from a weekend spent on your feet in Lando’s garage.
Your eyes closed as you tried to remain quiet and impassive but your body was screaming for more and your legs parted unconsciously when he reached the underside of your knee. Your eyes flew open as you felt Carlos rearrange the blanket and the adjustment caused your foot to brush a very hard body part trapped by the thin silk boxers he had gone to bed in.
“¿Qué?” he asked innocently, his eyes anything but innocent.
You shook your head and relaxed back onto Lando’s thighs as you lost all ability to think clearly but the air in your chest froze. Lando froze too, not daring to even breathe as you rolled your eyes to look up at your boyfriend, both of you knowing exactly what you felt.
Lando tried to look coy but his dilated eyes were fixated on your lips and his fingers trailed over your collar before following the swell of your breasts and disappearing under the blanket.
“Lan…” you whispered as the pad of his thumb found your peaked nipple and Carlos’ palm warmed the soft skin of your inner thigh. “What are you doing?”
“Want me to stop?” he whispered back, before pressing his lips together to hide his smile when you quickly shook your head. “Then keep quiet, baby.”
His eyes returned to the movie but his attention remained on you and how you started to squirm with his touch, and soon he stopped pretending otherwise. The blanket slipped down your body as he pulled your camisole aside and the cold air sent a shiver down your spine.
“Lan,” you gasped as you tried to cover yourself, but he chuckled as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the sound turning to a needy whine. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I’m not tired,” he chuckled before looking over at Carlos whose hand was dangerously close to the lace edge of your panties. “Are you?”
“Not anymore.” Carlos’ tongue peeked out as he watched your bare breast rise and fall with your quick breaths, your eyes tracing it as it rolled across his lips, and an intrusive thought soon followed. You wondered how those full lips would feel against yours, if they were as soft as they looked, what pleasure they could bring.
“Do you really want to go to bed, love?” Lando asked, his eyes finding the lump under the blanket where Carlos’ hand rested. Carlos’ fingers dug into your skin like he was fighting the urge to close the distance to the second heartbeat that had started to throb in your core, the place you wanted him to reach.
“No,” you admitted quietly, closing your eyes as you felt guilty for even thinking about his best friend the way you were in that moment. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about the Spanish racer, you weren’t immune to the handsome men Lando called his friends, but it was certainly the most intense feeling.
“Do you want us to stop?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to him.
"Us?"
Lando’s chuckle harmonised with Carlos’ deeper one and they shared a look over you. “You get so vocal when you are drunk, baby. Best friends share everything, Lando.”
Your eyes widened as the night Barcelona came back to you and he ran his thumb over your lips still parted with surprise and shock.
It had started off with an innocuous question about what he told his friends when it was just the boys after he had overheard you talking with your girlfriends - explicitly. He had wondered what else you shared with them and you said ‘Best friends share everything, Lando. You do the same with Carlos’.
“Not everything, love,” he teased as he helped you undress in your intoxicated state. “We haven’t shared you.”
“Well you could,” you joked, collapsing naked on the bed as the room spun. “I love you and there is no one sexier than you, but he’s very good looking.”
You had passed out pretty quickly after that and hadn’t remembered the conversation in the morning.
The temperature seemed to swell as Lando’s thumb drew your lip down and he waited to see how you would react. You wanted the blanket gone, you needed the air to cool enough to breathe again, but your body reacted for you, your tongue catching his thumb and sucking it into your mouth until he moaned at the tight seal he knew felt heavenly around his dick.
The sound went straight to your core and you squirmed as fire ignited in your blood at the prospect of Lando sharing you with his best friend.
“Do you want us to stop?” he asked again as he palmed himself, needing some friction in its hard state.
You broke away from his face to look at Carlos, but you could still see the flush to his cheeks and the hunger in his eyes. It was almost impossible to see the brown rings around his dilated pupils and you noticed his bare chest rose faster than before as his biceps tensed, like it was taking all his strength to remain still.
You dragged your tongue up Lando’s thumb and swirled it around the tip before whispering, “No, please, don’t stop.”
The pretence of patience was gone, the moment of stillness shattered, and the blanket was whipped away from your body. The thin camisole you wore did little to hide what lay beneath, not after what Lando had done and when it had already ridden high up your thighs, and Carlos released a shuddering breath at the sight of your panties, a damp patch clearly noticeable.
“Estás divina,” he praised as he shifted in the seat, parting your legs so he could settle between them. “You are a lucky man, Lan.”
“I know.”
You forced yourself to check on your boyfriend and the reservation you had felt melted away as you saw the pride in his smile, the smugness of knowing you were still his no matter what Carlos got to have a taste of tonight.
#lando norris x reader x carlos sainz jr#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#lando norris x reader#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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— Synopsis: Where you find out you were a bet. — Preview: "So it was all a bet Seungkwan? Who makes you feel like this, hm?" you taunted, "Who else are you going to find out there that can do the things I do to you?" "That's right," you continued, your voice low and fierce. "No one. No one can fuck you like I do. No one knows your body like I do. No one else can make you beg like this. And you know it!" — WC: 3.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, RAGE SEX, humping, penetrative sex, angst, hair pulling, riding, possessive words & etc.
For the past few months, you and Seungkwan had been living a secret life filled with youthful exuberance and passion. Despite your differences, there was an undeniable chemistry that kept pulling you back together. It all started innocently enough, with shared interests in theater and park outings, but it quickly escalated into something much more intense.
You and Seungkwan had a routine. You’d meet up after work or on weekends, sneaking off to hidden corners of the city to spend time together. The theater was your favorite escape. There, you could lose yourselves in the drama unfolding on stage, only to create your own dramatic scenes afterward, both playful and passionate.
[...]
One chilly evening, you both found yourselves at the local theater, watching a comedy play. You sat next to each other, sharing a bag of popcorn and exchanging sarcastic comments about the actors’ performances. Seungkwan leaned over, whispering a joke in your ear, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, drawing a few irritated glances from other theatergoers.
“Shh, you’re going to get us kicked out,” you whispered, trying to stifle your giggles.
“Oh, please, like you can keep quiet,” Seungkwan shot back, a mischievous glint in his eye.
After the play, you both headed to the park. The night was cool, the stars shining brightly overhead. You walked side by side, occasionally bumping into each other on purpose. It was your little game, a way to provoke and tease.
“Bet you can’t catch me,” Seungkwan said suddenly, breaking into a sprint.
“Oh, you’re on!” you shouted, chasing after him.
You ran through the park, laughing and shouting, until you finally tackled him to the ground. You both lay there, panting and laughing, the world around you forgotten.
[..]
Your relationship was like a roller coaster. One moment you’d be laughing and joking, and the next you’d be bickering like children. Your friends found it amusing, but they also knew it could escalate quickly.
“Seriously, you two are like an old married couple,” Mingyu said one evening, watching as you and Seungkwan argued over who had won the last game of mini-golf.
“Am not!” you both shouted in unison, glaring at each other before bursting into laughter.
Despite the arguments, there was a deep connection between you. When you were alone, the bickering turned into something else entirely. The passion between you was undeniable, each encounter more intense than the last. You’d find yourselves in the most unexpected places, unable to keep your hands off each other.
[...]
One evening, after another heated argument, you found yourselves in Seungkwan’s apartment. The bickering had turned into something more playful, and before you knew it, you were kissing, the tension melting away.
"You're impossible, you know that?" you said breathlessly between kisses.
"And yet, here you are," he replied with a smirk, pulling you closer.
The night was a blur of passion. Your bodies moved together with a familiarity that came from months of secret meetings. You’d always been able to push each other to the edge, and tonight was no different. The intensity of your lovemaking was a stark contrast to the playful bickering that usually defined your relationship.
[...]
But just like you said. It could escalate quickly.
You and Seungkwan had always been able to handle your arguments with a playful edge, but this time was different. You didn’t even remember what sparked the fight, but the words that came out of his mouth stopped you cold.
“It was all a bet.”
You froze, staring at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “No, I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean what? That this,” you gestured between the two of you, “was all a joke to you? A bet?”
“No, it’s not like that—”
“Then what is it, Seungkwan? Explain it to me!” Your voice rose, trembling with fury. “Because right now, it sounds like you’ve been using me this whole time.”
Seungkwan’s face paled. He reached out to you, but you stepped back, your anger intensifying. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped. “I trusted you. I thought this meant something.”
“It does mean something,” he insisted. “I swear, it started as a stupid dare from the guys, but then—”
“Then what? You decided you’d string me along for fun?” Your voice was loud now, echoing through the room. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? To know that I was just a game to you?”
Seungkwan looked panicked, desperate to make you understand. “Please, just listen. It started as a bet, but it’s not like that anymore. I care about you. I—”
“Stop,” you cut him off, tears of rage and betrayal filling your eyes. “I can’t believe I let myself fall for this. For you.”
The venom in your words made him flinch. “Please, don’t say that. I care about you more than anything.”
“Caring about me? Do you even know what that means? Because right now, it feels like you’ve just been laughing at me this entire time.” Your fists were clenched at your sides, your whole body shaking with anger.
Seungkwan took a step towards you, his own eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
"Fuck you, Seungkwan," you spat, pushing him back until he was sitting on your bed. He looked up at you, shocked and uncertain, as you began unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with trembling hands.
"What are you doing?" he asked, but his voice was weak, almost pleading.
You ignored him, pulling your panties off and straddling his lap, feeling his length harden beneath you. You started to grind against him, your movements hard, and fast. "It was a bet, huh? It was all a fucking lie, right, Seungkwan?" you snarled, your teeth gritted with rage.
His hands instinctively went to your hips, but he didn't try to stop you. "No, it wasn't like that—" he began, but you cut him off, swirling your hips hard, causing him to gasp.
"Fuck you," you repeated, your voice shaking. "You think you can just apologize and make it all better? You think you can just say sorry and I'll forget everything?"
Seungkwan's grip on your hips tightened, his breath hitching as you continued to grind against him. "I never meant to hurt you," he whispered, his eyes locked on yours, filled with regret and sorrow.
"Too late," you hissed, moving faster, your anger boiling over. "You already did." You could feel the heat building between you, the wet friction driving you crazy, but you were determined.
Seungkwan's face contorted with a mix of pleasure and anguish. "Please," he begged, "don't do this."
"Why not?" you shot back, your voice breaking. "You did this to us. You made me feel like a fool."
He tried to speak, but you silenced him with another hard hump, making him groan. "Just shut up, Seungkwan. Just shut up and take it."
As you continued to move against him, you could see the conflict in his eyes. He was torn between the pleasure you were giving him and the guilt he felt for what he'd done. It was a twisted form of revenge, but in that moment, it was all you had.
As you sank down on him, stretching yourself to take all of him inside, Seungkwan gasped, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. You gripped his hair roughly, yanking his head back. He hissed, the pain mingling with pleasure, making his eyes flutter shut for a moment.
"Who makes you feel like this, hm?" you taunted, your voice dripping with venom and lust. "Who else are you going to find out there that can do the things I do to you?"
Seungkwan's eyes were wide, filled with a mix of pain and desire. He tried to speak, but you cut him off with a harsh roll of your hips, drawing a guttural moan from his lips, he could only whisper a "No one." his voice leaving weak from the position you held his hair, head back. "Only you. Only you, please."
"That's right," you continued, your voice low and fierce. "No one. No one can fuck you like I do. No one knows your body like I do. No one else can make you beg like this. And you know it!"
You rode him harder, your movements fueled by a blend of anger and desperation. "Do you regret it, Seungkwan? Do you regret fucking with me?"
His hands gripped your hips, his nails digging into your skin as he tried to ground himself in the storm of sensations you were unleashing on him. "No!" he gasped, his voice strained. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
But you weren't done. You pulled his hair harder, making him look up at you, his eyes glazed with lust and guilt. "Sorry isn't enough," you spat. "You're going to remember this. Every time you try to touch someone else, you're going to think of me. You're going to remember how I made you feel. How no one else could ever compare."
Seungkwan's breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you as you continued to ride him with a furious intensity. "Please," he begged, his voice cracking. "Please, I can't—"
"You can't what?" you snapped, your pace relentless. "You can't handle it? You can't handle what you started? You're going to take it, Seungkwan. You're going to take every bit of it."
His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he teetered on the edge of release. "Fuck, I'm going to—" he started, but you cut him off again, tightening your grip on his hair.
"You're not coming until I say so," you growled. "You don't get to have that. Not yet."
Seungkwan's body shuddered, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back. "Please," he whimpered, his voice barely more than a breath. "Please, let me—"
His lips parted, a moan escaping as you ground against him, your nails digging into his scalp. "I-I need you," he stammered, his voice cracking with desperation.
You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. "Need me?" you whispered, your tone mocking. "You think needing me is enough? After everything?"
Seungkwan shuddered beneath you, his grip on the sheets tightening. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, his voice a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Please... I need you so much."
"Pathetic," you spat, pulling his hair harder, making him groan. "You don’t deserve me, Seungkwan. You don't deserve this." You punctuated your words with a sharp thrust, making him gasp.
His eyes were wild, filled with a mixture of regret and lust. "I know," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "But please... please don’t stop."
You felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at his desperation, at the way he was unraveling under you. "Remember that," you said, your voice low and dangerous. "Remember who makes you feel this way. Who owns you."
Seungkwan's breath hitched, his eyes wide and pleading. "I will," he promised, his voice a broken whisper. "I promise."
You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing beneath you. "Say it," you commanded, your voice a growl. "Say who you belong to."
"You," he gasped, his hips bucking beneath you. "I belong to you."
Seungkwan was prepared for the best orgasm of his life. He was trembling, his entire body on the edge of ecstasy, every nerve ending alive with sensation. As you rode him with unmatched ferocity, his breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to keep up.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, pleasure and overwhelming emotion. He cried out loud, unable to contain the sheer intensity of what he was feeling. His voice cracked as he moaned your name, each syllable filled with a desperate longing.
His eyes were fixed on you, drinking in the sight of you above him, your body moving with a rhythm that drove him to the brink of madness. He fought to keep his eyes open, wanting to capture every moment, every sensation, every flicker of emotion that passed between you.
His legs quivered beneath you, his muscles straining as he struggled to hold on. But even as his body trembled with the effort, he knew he was powerless to resist. You were taking him to heights of pleasure he had never dreamed possible, and he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through him.
Seungkwan couldn't hold on anymore. The sensation of you clenching around him, the sound of your voice echoing in his ears, it was all too much. With a final, desperate cry, he let himself go.
His body tensed, every muscle straining as he reached the peak of ecstasy. He cried out your name, his voice raw with emotion, as he spilled himself inside you, the release so intense it bordered on pain.
You steadied yourself on him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. Your head rested against the side of his, hiding your face from view as you waited for your nerves to calm down.
But then it hits you, the reality of what just happened, the anger and hurt resurfacing. You get off him, his cock slipping out of you, leaving you both feeling empty and exposed. Without a word, you start to dress yourself, your movements quick and determined. Seungkwan watches in desperation, his eyes wide with panic as he realizes what you're doing.
Seungkwan, sensing the shift in your demeanor, gets desperate. "Wait, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice tinged with panic. He sits up, trying to reach out to you, but you pull away, focused on gathering your things.
You walk to the living room, ignoring his pleas. "Please, just listen to me," he begs, following you. "We need to talk about this."
You grab your bag and turn to face him, your eyes cold and determined. "There's nothing left to say, Seungkwan," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "This...whatever we had...it's over."
[...]
On the week, you received multiple calls from Seungkwan—you didn’t answer any. Even his friends—who you suppose to be the ones who participated in the bet—called you, messaged you.
And now you are doing your dinner, didn't even have time to take off your work clothes, when you hear your doorbell. You dry your hands on the dish cloth, to open the door. It was Soonyoung. You frown, Soonyoung had contacted you during the week, but showing up at your door?
You lean on the doorframe, and ask him, "What are you doing here, Soonyoung?"
Soonyoung shifts nervously, his hands shoved into his pockets. "I know I called and messaged, but you never responded. I needed to talk to you in person."
You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "About what?"
He takes a deep breath, looking genuinely distressed. "About Seungkwan. And the whole bet thing. You need to know it wasn't what you think. He didn't mean it like that."
You scoff, feeling the anger bubbling up again. "Didn't mean it like that? How else am I supposed to take it, Soonyoung?"
Soonyoung steps closer, his expression earnest. "It started as a stupid joke, but for Seungkwan, it changed. He fell for you, really fell for you. None of us thought it would turn into something real, but it did for him. He's been a wreck since you left."
You feel a pang of something—not quite guilt, but a heavy sadness. "So he sends you to do his dirty work? Why isn't he here himself?"
"He wanted to come, but I thought you'd slam the door in his face," Soonyoung admits. "He's been miserable. Just...can you talk to him? Please? Hear him out?"
You sigh, the weight of the week pressing down on you. "I don't know, Soonyoung. I'm still so angry."
"I get that," he says softly. "But just give him a chance to explain. If after that you still want nothing to do with him, then fine. But at least you'll have heard the truth from him."
You hesitate, the conflicting emotions warring inside you. Finally, you nod. "Fine. I'll talk to him. But this better not be a waste of my time."
Soonyoung's face breaks into a relieved smile. "Thank you. I'll let him know." He heads toward the door, pausing before he leaves. "And for what it's worth, I'm really sorry about everything. We all are."
You nod again, closing the door behind him. As you lean against it, you take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the conversation ahead.
It didn’t even take twenty minutes after Soonyoung left for another knock to echo through your apartment. You sighed, already knowing who it would be. With heavy steps, you walked to the door and opened it.
Seungkwan stood there, looking disheveled and anxious. Normally, he would give you a hug, but he seemed to sense that this wasn’t the right time. Instead, he stood there awkwardly, respecting your space as you stepped aside to let him in.
You closed the door behind him, folding your arms defensively. “Soonyoung was just here,” you said, breaking the silence.
Seungkwan nodded, his eyes filled with guilt. “I know. He texted me. I came as soon as I could.”
You walked to the living room, sitting down on the couch, and gestured for him to do the same. He hesitated but then sat down, maintaining a respectful distance.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Seungkwan said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m so sorry, for everything. It was never meant to be a bet, not in the way you’re thinking.”
You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.
He shook his head vehemently. “It started as a stupid dare, something the guys and I joked about. But from the very first moment I spent time with you, it stopped being about that. It became real, so quickly, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”
You looked away, the anger and hurt still fresh. “And you didn’t think to tell me? To be honest about it?”
Seungkwan sighed deeply. “I should have. I know that now. But I was scared of losing you. I was scared that if you knew how it started, you’d never believe how much you mean to me.”
The vulnerability in his voice made you pause. “Soonyoung said you love me,” you said quietly, not meeting his eyes.
“I do,” Seungkwan replied instantly. “I love you more than anything. I was an idiot for letting it get this far without being honest with you.”
You finally looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. All you saw was regret and sincerity. “I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted.
Seungkwan nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. “I understand. And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. Just please, give me a chance to make it right.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. Slowly, you began to nod. “Fine. I’ll give you a chance. But this is going to take time, Seungkwan.”
Relief washed over his face as he nodded. “Thank you. I promise, I won’t let you down.”
You leaned back on the couch, the exhaustion of the week catching up with you. Seungkwan stayed there, a respectful distance away, but his presence felt different now—more honest, more real.
As the minutes ticked by, you both sat there in silence, the first steps of healing beginning to take place. There was a long road ahead, but for the first time in days, you felt like things could be okay again.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#seungkwan masterlist#seungkwan#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan smut#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan x you#seungkwan x y/n#boo seungkwan#seungkwan fanfic#seungkwan fluff#seungkwan scenarios#seungkwan angst#seungkwan reaction#seungkwan x oc#seventeen requests#seventeen masterlist
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Voicemail
A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: T
Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.
Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.
As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.
Word count: 1.8k
Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.
Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.
After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.
It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.
It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.
And he keeps it all these years.
He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.
If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.
And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.
With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.
Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.
The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.
Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.
Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.
Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.
Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’
‘Just a second!’ you call back.
Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.
It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.
Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.
‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’
You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’
‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’
‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’
‘Try me.’
Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.
When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’
He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’
You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’
You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.
Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’
He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’
Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’
Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.
‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.
Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’
‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.
It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.
The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.
Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.
Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.
He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.
It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.
One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.
Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.
Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.
The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.
There’s no putting it off forever.
In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.
He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.
In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.
Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.
He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.
Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.
The battery sign appears on the screen.
Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.
It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.
1 NEW VOICEMAIL.
He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.
It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.
He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -
He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.
He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -
Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -
And everything goes white.
When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.
He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.
You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.
It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.
Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.
But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.
‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’
As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.
More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️
#fuckyeahseams#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller angst#joel miller oneshot#joel miller imagine#the last of us fanfiction
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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 05/July/2024
Not exactly the week I was hoping for this week, but I suppose it happens sometimes!
Me and Nai got absolutely slammed with stomach flu this week. We were wiped out Sunday and Monday, then finally thought we were over it Tuesday…only for it to hit us again in full force. So that was…fun, lol.
We did manage to push ourselves to move our working space to somewhere with stable internet finally! I’d actually forgotten what working internet was like until I loaded a webpage in the new space and it just loaded—just like that! :D
So hoping that will make a massive difference to just being able to do things smoothly now.
But whilst I was out of commission for a bit, I did manage to do a few things: as I was thinking over the coding and what’s coming up, I did realise there’s a massive bug for imported characters that I’ll be able to fix before imported characters are even enabled, so that’s a big thing!
Also, I designed the villain’s masquerade mask! I ADORE it so much! That will be up on Patreon as part of the sketch series I’m doing on there soon. Still have Nate/Nat’s and Farah/Felix’s masks to go in that series as well.
I also wrote a couple of loose scenes to keep me in the flow where the MC kind of ‘falls’ into an AU version of the love interest’s backstory and gets to experience it first hand, as well as interact with the vampires how they were back then.
It won’t be in the main series, but it was a seriously interesting writing exercise!
When we finally started feeling like we could stand up without the world spinning away around us, we really knuckled down to it!
I got the first part of the edits back from the editor, so I’m currently working on those.
I’m hoping to get Chapter Two into the demo some time at the end of this month pushing into early August as a loose idea of date, then Chapter Three and Four will be released together quite some time after that. But Chapter Two has A LOT going on that I really want to get out soon so I can chat about it with you all, hehe! ;D
Next week will be social media days, as well as pushing on with Chapter Three. I’m coming into a section that is seriously massive to write. It has three different versions to start with, as well as branching and variations within each version on top. But it does bring in the introduction of a new Unit, which I’m super excited for!
Hope you all have an amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I'll update you all again next week! <3
#the wayhaven chronicles#interactive fiction#update#twc book 4#the wayhaven chronicles book 4#choice of games#hosted games#interactive novel#choicescript#creative writing#vampires#supernatural#supernaturals#fantasy#patreon#twc book 4 demo
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deleted scene ; sharing a bed with lee know
original sharing a bed one-shot with lee know.
author's note: this is incredibly random, but this is a deleted scene from the lee know instalment of the sharing a bed series. it got cut when i decided to start the story after their big fight rather than show the build-up, but this scene was really cute and i always missed it lol so i am randomly posting it now.
content info: just fluff, some reader crying, and minho being secretly whipped.
word count: 890 words.
-
“Oh no!”
Minho looks at you over the top rim of his glasses, his mouth full of food. His phone falls forgotten on the wooden table.
Pouting, you push your salad towards him.
“They put in the red onion,” you say with more misery than a salad miscommunication warrants. Much to your horror and his immense bemusement, tears fill your eyes. “I said no onion.”
He chokes on his food, trying to swallow quickly so he can talk. You wipe a stray tear while he hacks into a napkin. His own eyes are now watery from his spontaneous pork-induced brush with death, but he reaches across the picnic table to wipe your face first. He’s Minho so it’s more of a gentle slap on each cheek, but you take it with gratitude.
“It’s okay,” he says, firmly but carefully. Your behaviour is probably confusing him as you are notoriously composed and pragmatic by nature, so red onion is the last thing he would expect you to cry about. “Just ask for another one.”
“I can’t,” you say with a wobbly bottom lip. You shove the salad further away like a petulant child. “The line is too long now. We don’t have time to wait for our turn then wait for them to make a new one. We have to be back on the highway in no less than twenty minutes or else we aren’t going to beat the rush, and if we don’t beat the rush then we could be late getting to the camp site, and then we could lose our reservation. And I can’t eat this salad because the onion is so strong that it overwhelms everything else. It’s fine.”
It’s fine. It’s fine. Just one more thing gone wrong this week. You didn’t cry about the guy. You didn’t cry about the job. You are crying about the red onion. It’s fine.
Minho takes off his reading glasses as if looking at you directly will help him make sense of your nonsense. He doesn’t say anything, just stares with his dark brows knit together. Wisps of dyed blonde hair and their darker roots flutter under the circle of his backwards cap, a cool wind brushing over your picnic spot.
Of course the weather sucks too. You and your best friend finally have a shared weekend off and you decided to go camping, so of course it’s been overcast and grey for the whole drive so far.
Of course the rest stop cafeteria put red onion in your salad.
“Okay,” Minho says after a minute of just staring at you. He mutely slides his plate toward you and takes your salad for himself. When you try to protest, he threatens you with a plastic knife. “Eat,” he says, pointing to the dish with the knife. He digs into the salad without further commentary, returning his glasses to his face and picking up his phone to keep reading.
You stare despondently at the dish for a moment. Then that bottom lip wobbles more, and more, and more, then suddenly—
Minho drops his phone again, startled when you burst into tears.
“Ahh,” he says, reaching for you with both hands this time. He tries to reach past your fingers to cup your face, but you are rubbing your eyes and also bouncing with your hiccups. He eventually gets a semi-stable grip of your chin, thumb pressing hard to tug your face to his when you look away. “Baby,” he says, “what the fuck?”
“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say, still hiccupping. “You just l-l-love me so mu-u-uch!”
“Um,” he says, frowning. “Sorry. Here.” He swaps your plates back. “I hate you. Fucking bitch. Eat your fucking onion salad.”
You laugh in spite of yourself. It coaxes you out of hiding, your tear-streaked face turning to his willingly.
Minho can be loud and goofy, and he’s something of a lunatic around his guy friends, but you and him have always had a quiet, easy friendship. You are the epitome of regimented and organized, not to mention the very definition of introverted, but he’s so easy-going that your flow as a duo has always been seamless. You can sit together for hours in silence and not feel awkward once. His presence alone brings you comfort. He has seen many sides of you over the years. Annoyed, happy, content, frustrated, disappointed. You frown a lot. You don’t tend to overreact.
Bawling your eyes out is a new one.
“I’m fine,” you say with a sigh.
“Oh, well, if you’re fine,” he says dryly, picking up his phone and pretending to return to it.
When you giggle, he smiles just that bit, putting the phone down again. He is clearly out of his element as you seldom require active solace in any sense of the word, so he just sits there flexing his hand and staring at you.
“Should I… kill them?” he asks uncertainly, pointing over his shoulder to the food stand.
You laugh again, the sound still a bit shaky. You shake your head.
“Are you sure?” Minho asks. “We could probably run them over on our way out.”
“Thank you,” you say. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just a bit worked up.”
“Hmm.” He switches your plates again, giving you his food. “Try being worked down for a bit.”
“Okay,” you say with a snort. “I will. Thanks.”
He smiles a little smile, the kind reserved just for you. He looks satisfied he has done his job for now.
You can't help but smile back.
#not gonna overly tag this one. just a fun post for followers who liked that one shot haha#lee minho x reader#lee know x reader
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All In 5
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)
based on the winning option for this poll
Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes
Note: Happy weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something.
“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.”
“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?”
He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.”
“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What?
You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb.
You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance.
As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm.
“Do you have a reservation?” She asks.
You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave.
“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?”
“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?”
She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly.
You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines.
More importantly, where are you going?
Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene.
You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview.
“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.”
“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.”
“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.”
He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.”
“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly.
“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns.
She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile.
“This is a nice place.”
“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring.
“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline.
“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.”
“Oh, wow.”
“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.”
You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work.
“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.”
“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.”
“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.”
The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture.
“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.”
“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu.
Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good.
“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight.
“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.”
Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain.
“You don’t like it?” He wonders.
“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips.
“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.”
“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--”
“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.”
“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.”
He smirks, “yeah, you think so?”
“What?” Your voice cracks.
“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god.
“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.”
“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table.
“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?”
His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw.
“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.”
You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.”
“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.”
“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.”
You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job?
“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.”
You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be.
The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird.
“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--”
“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.”
Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown.
“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.”
You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm.
“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.”
You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you.
“But... I need a job,” you sniffle.
He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.”
“Money? For what?”
He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.”
“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...”
“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.”
“Thousand?” You breathe.
“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.”
“That’s... a lot...” you mutter.
“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder.
“I... I...” you heave each word.
“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.”
He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.”
“Me?” You gulp.
“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?”
You nod and curl your shoulders.
“What kinda music you like?”
“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe.
“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?”
“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together.
“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.”
Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away.
“Don’t laugh,” he chides.
“I didn’t,” you turn back to him.
“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.”
You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.”
“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out.
“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.”
He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw.
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#mcu#marvel#casino au#winter soldier#avengers#captain america#all in
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Copied from the OG Tweet as it's too long to screenshot. Source is @Jonathan_K_Cook on Twitter:
The missing context for what's happening in Gaza is that Israel has been working night and day to ethnically cleanse the Palestinian people from their homeland since even before Israel become a state – when it was known as the Zionist movement.
Israel didn't just cleanse Palestinians in 1948, when it was founded as a Western colonial project, and again under cover of a regional war in 1967.
It also worked to ethnically cleanse Palestinians every day between those dates and afterwards. The aim was to move them off their historic lands, and either expel them beyond Israel’s new, expanded borders or concentrate them into small ghettoes inside those borders – as a holding measure until they could be expelled outside the borders.
The 'settler' project, as we call it, is a misnomer. It's really Israel's ethnic cleansing programme. Israel even has a special word for it in Hebrew: 'Judaisation', or making the land Jewish. It is official government policy.
Gaza was the largest of the Palestinian reservations created by Israel's ethnic cleansing programme, and the most overcrowded. To stop the inhabitants spilling out, Israel built a fence-barrier in the early 1990s to pen them in. Then when policing became too hard from within the prison, Israel pulled back in 2005 to the outer perimeter barrier.
New technology allowed Israel to besiege Gaza remotely by land, sea and air in 2007, limiting the entry of food and vital items like medicine and cement for construction. Automated gun towers shot anyone who came near the fence. The navy patrolled the sea, stopping boats straying more than a kilometre or two off shore. And drones watched 24 hours a day from the sky.
The people of Gaza were sealed in and largely forgotten, except when they lobbed a few rockets over the fence – to international indignation. If they fired too many rockets, Israel bombed them mercilessly and occasionally launched a ground invasion. The rocket threat was increasingly neutralised by a rocket interception system, paid for by the US, called Iron Dome.
Palestinians tried to be more inventive in finding ways to break out of their prison. They built tunnels. But Israel found ways to identify those that ran close to the fence and destroyed them.
Palestinians tried to get attention by protesting en masse at the fence. Israeli snipers were ordered to shoot them in the legs, leading to thousands of amputees. The 'deterrence' seemed to work.
Israel could once again sit back and let the Palestinians rot in Gaza. 'Quiet' had been restored.
Until, that is, last weekend when Hamas broke out briefly and ran amok, killing civilians and soldiers alike.
So Israel now needs a new policy.
It looks like the ethnic cleansing programme is being applied to Gaza anew. The half of the population in the enclave's north is being herded south, where there are not the resources to cope with them. And even if there were, Israel has cut off food, water and power to everyone in Gaza.
The enclave is quickly becoming a pressure cooker. The pressure is meant to build on Egypt to allow the Palestinians entry into Sinai on 'humanitarian' grounds.
Whatever the media are telling you, the 'conflict' – that is, Israel's cleansing programme – started long before Hamas appeared on the scene. In fact, Hamas emerged very late, as the predictable response to Israel's violent colonisation project.
Israel could once again sit back and let the Palestinians rot in Gaza. 'Quiet' had been restored.
Ignore the fake news. Israel isn't defending itself. It's enforcing its right to continue ethnically cleansing Palestinians.
#gaza#free gaza#gaza strip#palestine#free palestine#news on gaza#irish solidarity with palestine#al jazeera
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A flyboy!universe idea/drabble because of this scene. Set in flyboy, but can be read as a standalone - Jake Seresin x you ft. Seresin sibling squabbling.
This is just me clearing up and finishing off the one billion wips sitting in my drafts…. these are just moments tbh.
Wish you were here.
Jake shoots off the text to you, telling you for what seems to be the hundredth time in that day that he wishes you were here. He sticks his phone back in his pocket, but not before taking a glance at his lock screen - a photo of you from a recent weekend where you both had gone to a flower market to pick up some blooms for home and Jake had managed to snap a candid photo of you bending down with your nose to a bouquet of fresh stalks.
“I’m sick of you moping,” Jake’s sister, Emma says as she comes into view, Layla in her arms. Jake opens his arms for his niece to which he gets an immediate response of her attempting to wriggle out of her own mother’s hold and into his. It makes Emma roll her eyes and Jake grin.
“We like Uncle Jake better don’t we,” he chuckles as the little girl secures her place in his arms and lets her head drop comfortable on his shoulder with a giggle.
“After all I’ve done for these kids,” Emma sighs dramatically in jest as she reaches out to tickle Layla’s stomach which makes her squirm in Jake’s hold.
“I’m not moping,” Jake says as Layla wriggles further into his hold, returning to Emma’s original topic of conversation, “I just miss my wife”
“Not your wife yet,” Emma corrects, but teasingly. Jake had taken to call you his wife as the wedding grew nearer - something he had easily, and happily, fallen into.
“Your wife,” Layla’s head pops up as she pats her Uncle Jake on the cheek the ruffles of her white poofy dress rustling as she moves her hand.
“That’s right princess, my wife,” says Jake as he grabs hold of Layla’s tiny arm, blowing a row of raspberry kisses into it.
It makes Layla giggle in excitement, her previous statements forgotten as she squirms in Jake’s arms.
“Has the wedding come and gone?” The sound of your voice makes Jake’s head whip up and you find yourself staring into stunned green eyes.
“Turns out the problem was easily solved,” you explain as you step forward, first hugging Emma hello before reaching out to allow Layla, who has her arms out and reaching to you, to find her way into your arms.
“You’re pretty,” she says in child-like awe as she pats your cheek gently.
“Not as beautiful as you,” you say with a gasp, doing a twirl together with Layla in your arms which earns you a child like shriek of excitement. You return to your original position, matching grins on yours and Layla’s faces only to find two pairs of similarly green eyes watching you both. Your eyes meet Jake’s and you take in the wide smile he has on his face. You pass Layla off to Emma who, reading her brother, has extended her arms to coax her daughter back into her hold.
“Surprise,” you say as Jake pulls you close to him, the front of your body flush against his, your heads pulled away just enough so that you could look at each other. Jake’s hand is resting in the small of your back.
“I would have come get you from the airport.”
“Missing the point of a surprise,” you tease, placing a palm on his chest, your hand meeting a the linen blend suit jacket he has on.
“Best kind of surprise,” Jake says before leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of your head, “but I’ll always prefer having you back earlier.”
His words make your smiler wider as you hear a pretend gag from Emma.
“You’re disgusting,” she says, as affectionately as a sister can, to Jake, her and Layla watching as Jake presses another kiss to the side of your head, before shifting you both to face the two of them with you now tucked into his side, his hand on massaging small circles into your waist.
“You’re disgusting,” is what Jake retorts in a way only a younger brother can, no matter the age.
“Are my grandchildren squabbling again,” the familiar voice of Grandma Doris sounds out as she comes sweeping into view. She’s met by two defiant sets of “yes-es” from Jake and Emma but ignores them for you instead, taking your hands as she pulls you in for an embrace, swatting Jake’s hold on you away in the process, “you look lovely my dear.”
“I was afraid it would be too simple,” you say, almost bashfully.
“Nonsense,” Grandma Doris waves a hand in the air, dismissing your concerns, “you look perfect.”
“You do,” Jake agrees, he lets his grandmother have you for a second more, but he reaches forward, gently tugging you back towards him by your waist.
“Won’t even let his Grandmother win,” is what she says to you with a smile on her lips despite the exasperated shake of her head that follows along as she releases her hold on you.
“He’s impossible,” you say with a chuckle, but only slightly bashful as Jake secures you back against his side.
“I’m not letting her go for the rest of the evening,” he informs the group matter of factly to which both Seresin women roll their eyes.
“I’m sorry you have to put up with him,” Emma says to you.
“No, we’re sorry,” Grandma Doris echos, as the two women shake their heads.
“I’m not sorry,” is all Jake supplies cheerily before planting another kiss on the side of your head.
#jake seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#flyboy#flyboy!universe#flyboy universe#flyboy!jake#flyboy!drabble#flyboy thoughts#jake seresin fic#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfic#tgm fic#tgm imagine#tgm fanfic#jake hangman seresin x you#hangman#hangman fic#hangman imagine#hangman fanfic#hangman x you#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#too gun maverick#top gun#top gun fic#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x you
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omg can you do dealer rafe where reader and wheez are making daisy chains and he realises he loves her
HOLY MOTHER MARY OF GOD I LOVE THIS!!!!
╰┈➤ dealer!rafe finally realised how much you mean to him.
warnings: just pure fluff.
summary: rafe watches y/n making daisy chains with wheezie.
the sun beamed down on tannyhill as she lounged in the garden, sipping on an iced latte.
soft footed patters rolled into the garden as wheezie looked around for her. spotting y/n, surrounded by the bright flower beds which complimented her tanned skin beautifully, she headed over.
“hey y/n, do you want to make daisy chains with me?” she asked sheepishly, used to being turned down.
y/n smiled up at the youngest cameron, setting her drink down. “ooh! i love making daisy chains!” she proclaimed, pushing herself up from the lounger.
“i think we should make flower jewellery for the party this weekend..” wheezie suggested, following behind y/n while she inspected the flowers in the corner.
“i think that’s a great idea wheez! now, which colours do you wanna use?” she twisted her face to think.
after picking an abundance of flowers from the back of the garden, the two girls settled in the middle, cross legged.
their fingers worked fast to loop each flower with another, the amount of necklaces piling up quickly. they’d each made a flower crown for each other, now wearing them like royalty.
“i think you should make one for rafe, he’d look great in pink!” wheezie laughed, throwing her head back hysterically.
“good choice! maybe a bit of purple in there too?” y/n joked, eyebrows raised in amusement.
their fit of giggles caught rafe’s attention, leaning over the balcony to get a look at what was so funny.
the stoic expression forever plastered on his face softened slightly as he took in the scene before him. his girlfriend’s bright smile caught his eye as he watched the girls roll around on the floor, menacing laughter surrounding them.
rafe was completely enamoured by her, she fit in so well with him and everything around him. including his little sister, who he also had a little soft spot for. so, to watch them get along made his heart swell.
“i think someone’s spying on you..” wheezie smirked, motioning a discreet hand to rafe’s balcony.
y/n glanced up quickly, sighing lovingly as she caught him staring.
“i think you should give him his new bracelet, he’ll love it! wheezie squealed, nudging y/n.
“oh absolutely! do we have enough necklaces for the party now?” she asked, not wanting to abandon their fun. a thumbs up from wheezie sent y/n on her way.
her sandals smacked against the wooden floor as she made her way to rafe’s room, alerting him she was near.
she found him on the balcony, now sat on his phone. “hey, i have a surprise for you!” y/n giggled, clutching the magenta bracelet behind her back. “oh yeah? what’s that?”
setting her drink down on the glass table, she stepped closer. “are you ready?”
rafe chuckled, nodding as he stared up at her in awe. he sat still in anticipation while she brought her hands back around slowly, intent on making him wait. “i made you…” she held her cupped hands out proudly “a bracelet!”
“this is for me?” he gasped, feigning shock as he held his arm out for her to put it on.
after the small struggle of fitting the bracelet over his hand, he held it up to his face, smiling. “you think this is my colour?” he joked, mocking her choice of a bright pink. “hey! it bring out your eyes..” she pouted, settling on his knee.
her face twisted into a small frown as he failed to say anything else, his eyes falling on hers.
he almost couldn’t think of the words to describe how he felt in that moment, he just knew he’d never felt like this before, with anyone.
“i love you so much y/f/n, like, a lot” he grinned, stroking her arm gently. her mouth opened slightly as her breath hitched.
she’s waited so long to hear him say it that she’d almost completely forgotten that she never had either.
“i love you too rafe, this much!” she giggled again, holding her arms out as wide as they could go.
he chuckled at hee childlike behaviour, pulling her in a for a soft kiss, his hands trailing her waist.
“finally!” a small voice squeaked from below them. the pair broke into fits of laughter as they realised wheezie had heard the whole thing, still counting the flower necklaces.
turning back to eachother, she eyed the bracelet on his wrist.
“you really gonna wear that?” amused at the thought. rafe nodded immediately. “absolutely princess…”
and that he did. big scary rafe cameron wore it like a medal on his wrist, begging her to make him a new one every he accidentally snapped it, which was a lot.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#outer banks#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx#dom!rafe#rafecameron#rafe obx#soft!dom rafe#dealer!rafe
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the l word
pairing: joel miller x reader
summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it.
word count: 9.1k
warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family
author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!
this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!
part four / series masterlist
Zero
After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries.
Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment.
Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.
One
After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors.
For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.
That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it.
Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.
“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car.
“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”
“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”
“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”
He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”
“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next.
“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”
You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.
You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off.
The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects.
Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-
You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-
Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer.
“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.
“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”
No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while.
“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone.
“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”
“Please,” you grit out.
“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you.
“I don’t know,” you confessed.
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No.”
“You sure you want me to come over?”
“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”
“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together.
You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless.
You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible.
You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so.
Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over.
“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub.
“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub.
“Not really,” you admitted.
“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”
Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long.
Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand.
“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.
“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.”
“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.
“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead.
“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life.
You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become
somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over.
“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background.
“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.”
“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”
“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”
Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”
He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you.
“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”
Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.
“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”
“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest.
You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.
And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would.
Two
Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.
Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.
So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.
“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.
Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”
“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”
“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop.
“I… fine, I’ll sing.”
The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together.
You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.
The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then.
“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.
“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed.
“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”
“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”
“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”
“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”
“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”
“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”
He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you.
Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you.
“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”
“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap.
“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar.
“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”
“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”
The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you.
That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life.
Three
When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music.
The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all.
You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music.
“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more.
You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage.
Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so.
You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.
You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.
No.
There was no way.
This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill.
Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small.
Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds.
You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach.
You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.
You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.
“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character.
Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you.
Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested.
You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care.
“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”
“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item.
You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye.
“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup.
“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation.
“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”
“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”
“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused.
“I don’t I just-“
“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”
Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you.
“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”
“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.
“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard.
This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly.
“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm.
“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”
You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.
Although, life was never that simple, was it?
As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.
Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom.
But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.
“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”
You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.
“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back.
“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged.
“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”
Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain.
“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you.
You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground.
“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”
Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“
“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.”
You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years.
“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”
Four
You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain.
You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain.
Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.
After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house.
Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.
“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain.
“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel.
“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off.
“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep.
“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”
Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.
You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?
“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”
You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.
He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.
By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.
You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before.
While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week.
While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before.
“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”
By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room.
“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes.
“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”
You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly.
Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”
You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room.
Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.
You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.
Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”
“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.
“Never heard from her again.”
You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage.
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”
As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do.
As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life.
You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit.
“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.
You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind.
“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to.
“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.”
You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his.
“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?”
“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”
Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding.
“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”
You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere.
“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger.
“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”
“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”
“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”
His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless.
You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you.
“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”
“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. It is one,” you hummed.
It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever.
“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”
“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table.
“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted.
“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”
Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?”
“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.
The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.
“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.
You were glad that he found you too.
Five
It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days.
When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job.
Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after.
Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel.
“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually.
“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed.
Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”
“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks.
“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him?
“Are you busy tonight?” he asked.
“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”
“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”
“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”
“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”
You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.
When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen.
“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne.
Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice.
With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way. He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently.
“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.
“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”
With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.
“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair.
“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate.
“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”
“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”
“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”
You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne.
“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”
He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew.
“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”
“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”
“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”
How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world?
However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change.
Plus One
Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space.
Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower.
“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist.
“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink.
“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”
“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion.
“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips.
“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud.
Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard.
“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”
“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk.
“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything.
It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.
You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything.
Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find.
You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time.
You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you.
“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.
Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.
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