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#if you have any questions/feedback feel free to send me a
boxbug · 1 year
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I made a board game! for the Joe Zine @joezine ! link HERE ! (it’s free!)
It’s based on the Game of the Goose (Jeu de l’Oie) which is the french version of snakes and ladders. It has neither snakes nor ladders.
You can play it, print it, eat it, do whatever you want. HERE’s a link for a high res version + pngs of the player chips for easier use online
Please let me know if you do play it! I’d love to hear any reactions
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Pity Party.
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Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
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"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
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skzstannie · 5 months
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"Did you know?"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital
summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason
A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!
Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.
This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.
"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.
"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.
"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."
You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.
Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.
Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.
You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.
"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"
"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.
You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.
Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?
Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.
You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."
Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.
You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.
While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.
You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.
Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.
You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.
Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.
You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.
Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.
"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.
You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.
"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.
"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.
You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.
You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.
You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.
The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.
You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.
The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.
You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.
"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"
"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.
You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.
"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.
"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.
"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."
After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.
Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.
Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.
In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.
Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.
The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.
Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.
Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.
You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.
You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.
"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.
"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.
"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"
Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.
Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.
You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.
10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.
Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.
5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.
You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.
All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.
Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.
The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.
Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.
"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.
"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.
"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.
Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.
"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.
Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."
You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.
The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.
The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.
You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.
"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"
You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.
The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.
You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"
"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."
You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"
"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.
"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.
The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.
Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"
"Get out," you say, your voice tense.
His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"
"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"
"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.
"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."
His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."
He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?
The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.
You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.
After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.
Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.
You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.
"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."
Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.
"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."
You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"
"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."
Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.
They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.
You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.
Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.
They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.
They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."
All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."
"Yea, but-"
"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."
"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.
"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.
Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.
You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
~ ~ ~
Part 2
1K notes · View notes
ghoulphile · 22 days
Text
janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.
It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.
In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.
They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.
See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.
But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?
To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.
Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.
Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.
And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.
The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.
Look how far the mighty fall.
Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.
Thankfully, you're just as good with her.
It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.
And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?
Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.
After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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part 01 of full fic
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Text
All the milestones (Lando Norris)
Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected
Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.
"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.
"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.
"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.
"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.
"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.
Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.
"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.
"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.
"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.
"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.
A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.
"But he's too small", you argued.
"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".
Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.
"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.
Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.
The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.
"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.
"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.
"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.
"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.
Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.
Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.
"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.
"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.
"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.
"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.
"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.
"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.
"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.
"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.
Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.
"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.
When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.
"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.
"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.
"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.
After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".
"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.
Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".
.
"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.
"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.
"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.
"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.
"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.
"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.
"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.
"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.
"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.
"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".
By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.
"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.
"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.
Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.
While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.
Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.
"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.
Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.
Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.
"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.
"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".
A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.
Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.
"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".
"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.
"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.
"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.
"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.
.
"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.
A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.
"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.
Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".
"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.
"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.
"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.
Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.
"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.
"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.
"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".
.
You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.
Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.
Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.
Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.
"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.
"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.
"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.
"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.
"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.
You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.
When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.
"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.
"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.
"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.
"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.
.
"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.
"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.
"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.
"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".
"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.
"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.
By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.
Post partum blurb
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Introduction
Hi! I'm an anonymous asker who sometimes sends fellow simmers questions. "Simblr Question of the Day" is something I saw going on around September '23 and I wanted to revive this "trend"! After a bit, some simmers suggested a SQOTD blog, to which I agreed and finally did it! I can broaden my asking horizons to blogs w/o anons now :)
I'm going to continue preserving my anonymity, but I'd like to share some basics about me ! ~
You can call me squat or squatty! A name I chose based on the way I pronounce "SQOTD," You can also call me SQOTD Anon! My timezone is ( PST ) - I like the colors yellow and pink/red, I've been playing the sims since I was 5 and I like to read and write :)
And below the cut will include a little rundown of how I will run this blog and navigation hashtags ~
- I want to start off by saying that while I do play TS4, I'm going to try and keep my SQOTDs all-sim-games-friendly, so if you play TS3, 2 or 1 and want to answer, go right ahead! Feel free to "translate" them for older games if you want to answer and it seems too "Sims-4-oriented" - Also! You can absolutely answer: 1. older SQOTDs 2. a SQOTD multiple times or 3. a SQOTD that isn't prompted by an ask while this is a ~daily questions blog~, you can also consider it a questions archive where you can pull any question out and answer it whenever and however many times you want to :) -I will queue a question once a day around 4am-5am PST, I will try to vary the type of questions (builds/renders/cas/sims/ocs). I also do around 3-4 tzrs per SQOTD. -I will also send a SQOTD to a random 5-10 Simblrs either around 4-5 AM or somewhere in the same day in my time (I forewarn this in the chance that I'm asleep around 4-5 AM) - and yes, I will make sure that it's different Simblrs everyday :) -Interact with these posts in anyway you prefer: reblog, reply or a separate post! (make sure to tag me ^^) -I'm going to attempt to reblog as many answers as possible, but I do want to avoid spamming dashes, so not always, but I will occasionally reblog ^o^ -I FULLY encourage YOU to continue sending asks with SQOTDs (crediting/tagging me is optional). I don't expect every simblr to know about this blog and SQOTD is intended to be a community thing, so while this blog will extend SQOTD reach, asks will spread even further -If you have your own SQOTD, you can send me an ask with your question and I will answer it prompting anyone of Simblr to answer it! -Since this isn't my main blog, I won't be following anyone back, but I will always check this blog at least twice or thrice a day and check my notifs and engage with the community as much as possible :)
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How to be a child
pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), Pierre Gasly x reader
warnings: swearing, description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash, angst
summary: You were the mum of the grid, you always had been. Until it one day it all just gets too much, and you are in desperate need of support. Suddenly 19 boys collectively become your mum, and you need to once again learn how to be a child.
notes: i am so, sorry for the wait. life has been terrible for the me the past months, but here it finally is: part two! as a small compensation, it is very long, and i hope you will like it! feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! you can find the first part here. a third part will follow at some point, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊 also, a question for everyone on the taglist: Would you like to be tagged in all of my F1 work, or just in this one?
disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊
word count: 8.1k
taglist: @cilliansgirl @tyna-19 @hc-dutch @honethatty12 @sheslikeacurse @rb-danny @hc-dutch @hiphopdancer101universe @teddyluvs @dan3avocado @stillbreathin @mellowturtleangellamp @mcmuppet @shqwqrma @alice07ea @ricsaigaslec @witchychicken @rockyhayzkid @sheluvsf1 @hiddleslovs @laurevdd @caosfanblr @dessxoxsworld @fryskje @stickygladitorbear @goldenharrysworld @mehrmonga @anon-1112 @abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyzz @yunoguns @jaydenhateslife @itsandreaca @tsukishimawhore @formula-hamilton @cfjkdyihjkdd @whodis-26 @basicallyherondale @wtrmlnsgr94
“Shut up, you dumbass!”, whisper-yells a voice that sounds like Charles to you. “Or do you want the nurse to realize that we are way more people in here than allowed?” Several people shush at the same time, and you are utterly confused. You slowly open your eyes and catch sight of almost the whole grid cramped into the room. They are bickering with each other, and you cannot help but smile. “Hey guys!”, you croak out and your voice sounds hoarse. Immediately, they all stop talking and look at you. Pierre is the first to move and rushes over to your bed to take a hold of your hand.
“Finally, mon ange!”, he breathes out and you could’ve sworn that you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “What happened?”, you ask, still very much confused. You try to sit up, and immediately Max and Daniel rush to your side to assist you in your undertaking. When you are propped up, you look at your friends, who are standing around the bed – a hospital bed as you have realized by now. Pierre gently strokes your hand, and Lewis raises his voice to tell you what had happened.
After your collapsed in Pierre´s arms, and your friends and colleagues form a wall to shield you, Pierre gently picks you up and carries you out of the public eye and into Lando´s room. Everyone is close to panic, no one really knowing what had prompted you to pass out. The doctors, alerted by someone, rush in, and examine you. They cannot really find any reason, apart from the injuries in your face. They suspect that it might be something severe, so the whole grid is close to losing their mind. You are than a friend to most, rather part of their family. The called ambulance takes you with them, Pierre riding in the back with you.
When you arrive at the hospital, the doctors take you away from Pierre to examine you thoroughly, determined to find out what is wrong with you. It takes an hour, one more, and another. By now, the hallway of the floor you are on is filled with the other drivers. Everyone wanted to be there for you when you wake up. With every minute, the boys get more nervous, grow more worried. After four hours, the doctor comes out.
“We stabilized her. We assume that she suffered an acute exhaustion attack, caused by a lack of sleep and too much stress paired with a concussion. We expect her to sleep for a few days, but she was lucky. It could have been way worse. She will need to rest as much as possible once she wakes up to ensure that neither her brain nor her heart will suffer from long term consequences.”
The drivers are all shocked. You are still so young, and now this. They realise, all for themselves, that maybe they had demanded too much of you for too long. Guilt threatened to eat up them, more with every day you didn’t wake up for. Until three later, on a Wednesday, you finally wake up again.
You are quiet for a few minutes. Just when you are about to say something, the door opens and a nurse steps in. When she sees all the drivers, she rushes them out - all except one. Pierre doesn’t leave your side. He sits with you when the doctor comes in and tells you that you were lucky. He makes it very clear that you must take time for yourself to make sure that you would not suffer lasting effects. You nod, trying to understand everything he says.
“Would you mind leaving me alone for a minute, please?”, you ask. The doctor nods, while Pierre stays by your side. “You too, Pierre.” He looks at you, shocked for a minute, offended even. “Don’t send me away, y/n. You seem like you need someone with you right now.” “Just give me a fucking minute alone, Pierre!”, you snap at him, and he gets up and leaves without another word. You know that wasn’t fair, but your whole world just turned upside down. You will apologize later.
You clench your hands to fists; you feel like you are going to lose your shit. The feelings threaten to drown you, you are barely able to keep yourself over the water. You need to get out of here – you want to be everywhere but here. You lift yourself out of bed, determination flooding your system. When you stand up, you grind your teeth. Your whole body is almost shaking because just the act of getting up was so exhausting. You feel so very small, weak, and fragile. You take two, three slow steps, holding onto the hospital bed with every step. When you reach the end of the bed, you back another step forward, but without holding onto something, your body gives in. You crash to the ground; your body hits the floor with a loud thud.
Immediately, the door opens and Pierre storms in. He sees on you sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, head buried in your hands. He rushes over to you and takes you in his arms. “I am so afraid, Pierre!”, you sob into his shoulder as he holds you. His heart breaks right there and then. You cry for what feels like hours, and when you are done, Pierre helps you onto the bed again. The doctors had allowed for you to leave the hospital in Brazil to be taken care of by your personal doctor in Monaco. However, much comes with that – your transport must be organized, you have to talk to the team, and all of that.
You are starting to panic, you feel so exhausted still, you have no idea how you would be able to manage all of that. “You don’t need to worry, ange. We are scheduled to fly out tonight in the private jet, everything around the transport is organized. Only Max, Daniel, Lando and I will join so that you can rest as much as possible. We will have to leave for the weekend, but I will promise you that we will be back as soon as possible.” You nod, overwhelmed that they cared so much for you. After one last check up, the doctor wishes you all the best and discharges you.
They provide you with a wheelchair because you are still weakened and every bone in your body hurts – even the ones you didn’t know you had. Pierre pushes you out of the hospital and towards the parking lot, where you can spot Daniel standing between an unfamiliar car. Usually, all of you drove fast and sporty cars, but this was a car you expected to see in a suburban neighbourhood where everyone had at least three kids.
“Nice ride!”, you say, and your voice is still hoarse. You are pretty sure that you look like shit, but the boys do not let on. They don’t look at you with pity and you are beyond grateful for that. “Thanks, we had to improvise a bit!” Daniel walks over to you and pulls you out of the wheelchair with ease, lifting you into his arms bridal style. He carries you over to the car, careful to not hurt you. However, his limb coordination when it comes to carrying people apparently isn’t the best. You close your eyes when you see the car door frame coming closer, but instead of bumping into the hard metal, your head is met with a soft surface. You open your eyes and see Lando smiling at you. The boy had put his hand over the door frame, softening the impact. Your eyes almost start to water at the sweet gesture.
Once you are seated, Pierre climbs into the back with you and helps you to put your seatbelt on before he settles himself in. Lando sits in the back as well. Max is the passenger princess. Daniel is starting the car, and you watch Max still without his seatbelt on. Before, you can say something, Pierre turns to Max. “Put your fucking seatbelt on!”, he says and a small smile appears on your face. You don’t really catch more of the chatting, as just the way to the car exhausted you completely and you opt for some sleep. Pierre´s shoulder functions as your cushion, and it is quite comfortable, at least for this purpose. Already almost in slumber you only subconsciously realize that someone puts a blanket over you. You snuggle closer into Pierre and fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.
You wake when someone unbuckles your seatbelt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!”, Pierre apologizes, but you wave it off. “I think I have slept enough the past days”, you joke half-heartedly, and he gives you a tiny smile. Only now in this close proximity, you can see the dark bags under his eyes, the worry on his face. He looks five years older, beard unshaved, little stubbles growing in a disorganized way. “I am sorry for causing you so much worry”, you whisper barely audible, but he hears you, like he always does. He shakes his head. “Mon ange, no. None of this is your fault, if anything, it is ours.” You are just about to ask what he means when Daniel interrupts the two of you.
“We should get going!”, he says, and Pierre helps you out of the car. He carries you the last few meters to the jet, and places you down on one of the seats. Before you can engage in a conversation with him, Lando joins you on the seat next to you and slams a big bag on the table. “Y/n, I hope you are hungry!” You focus your attention on him and just now realize how hungry you are. “Starving, actually!” Lando smacks his lips and starts unpacking the bag. “Well, in that case, good for you, because I come prepared!” There is everything you could ask for – snacks, fruits, sandwiches. You decide to start with an apple, which Lando insists on cutting into small pieces for you. “Lando!”, you laugh, “I am not a child!” He grins. “Well, y/n, you need care and nursing and love now, so we all have decided to you are no longer our mum, you are now our child!” You flip him off playfully and continue to eat your apple pieces quietly while Lando talks your ear off, which you honestly do not mind. It distracts you from all the negative thoughts.
After a few hours, Daniel, Lando and Max are asleep. You are quite awake on the other hand and the soft shine of a display coming from Pierre´s seat indicates that he as well is awake. You carefully walk over to him, holding onto the seats. It takes all of your strength to make the few meters, but you manage and fall into the seat next to the Frenchman. He looks up from his phone and gifts you a smile. “Hey”, you say softly, “You okay?” Pierre shakes his head but continues to smile. “You are unbelievable, y/n! You are the one that was in the hospital the last days, not me.” “I can still worry about you guys though, no?”, you grin crookedly, but Pierre is still very serious. “Of course, but the important thing now is that you need to get better, and to do that, you need to learn to say no, and you need to learn to listen to yourself.” You want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t let you. “But most importantly, we – me and the others – need to learn to get our own shit together, and not always bother you!”
You can feel that he is a bit angry, so you gently place your hand on his biceps. “Pierre, you never bothered me. It was just a bit too much the past weeks! Everything will be fine, in fact, everything is fine.” Pierre shakes his head at you, you can feel that he is still upset. “No, nothing is fine. The last days were absolutely horrible, y/n. I was so afraid; I don’t think I have ever been this afraid. I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid that I would wake up and someone was going to tell me that you died. It was a nightmare, I don’t ever want to feel that again – so I am begging you, please take all the time you need to rest and heal. I cannot lose you.” You are a taken aback by his words. “I will, I promise!”, you say, and Pierre pulls you onto his lap and into a tight hug. He doesn’t let go for a while, and you don’t mind. It keeps you from falling apart.
You land a few hours later, you before you can protest, Lando lifts you out of your seat. “My turn!”, he laughs, and you decide to not pick a fight. “Yeah, it’s cool”, you say and playfully roll your eyes, “Just pick me up whenever.” Lando makes a sad face, and you can sense that he feels bad. “I am sorry”, he utters, “I should have at least asked if it was okay for me to pick you up!” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, its not like a have a choice. I can´t exactly walk away”, you joke. You know it is a bad joke, and maybe it was too early to joke about it. For a moment, it is quiet, but then Daniel lets out a little snort. He tries his best to keep in a laugh, but when Max looks at him, he cannot help himself and bursts out laughing. The Dutchman joins him, so do you, and in a matter of seconds, Pierre and Lando are laughing as well. It takes you a while to calm down, because all of you just really needed to laugh off the shock of the past days.
Lando carries you down and into the car. Charles had offered to pick you up and drive you to your apartment, joined by Pierre. “Hey Charles!”, you greet the man and move over to give him an uncomfortable hug over the middle console. He doesn’t seem to mind, however. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, y/n!” You smile at him after you pull away, and he starts the car as soon as Pierre has settled in as well. A bit later, you arrive by your apartment building. Pierre gets out the wheelchair, and helps you to climb in. It is still new for you, and you hope that you will get rid of it soon. It makes you feel utterly helpless, but just the few steps in the plane earlier were hard and exhausting. For a moment, the thought that you might never be able to race again crosses your mind, but you push it away violently. So far, you had achieved everything in your life that you had set your mind to, and you sure as hell will not let anything stop you now.
It feels good to be back in your own space. You exhale deeply and you immediately start to feel a bit better. The familiar surrounding eases your negative thoughts, and you find yourself calming down. “Alright”, says Charles, “I will get going and get the crutches from the doctor, and get groceries, then I will be back!” Before you can say something, he is out of the door. “The doctors in Brazil contacted your doctor here to consult and discuss next steps.” You nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Pierre tells you bit more about the topic, but you can’t really focus your attention. At some point, you let out a big yawn. Pierre chuckles. “Seems like someone is tired!” “Exhausted”, you tell him, and he gives you an understanding nod. “How about you take a nap?”, he offers. “Sounds super!”
He helps you into your room, where you quickly change into some shorts and a shirt. After you are done, Pierre enters the room with a glass of water in his hand. “I know that you like to keep a glass of water next to your bed, so I figured I would bring you one!” “How do you know?”, you question. He shrugs his shoulders. “You mentioned it one day…” “Thank you!” He smiles at you, puts the glass down and grabs the blanket. He throws it over you and gently tugs you in. “Sleep well, mon ange!”, he says but you are already sound asleep.
The next week is exhausting, more mentally than physically. You are able to leave the wheelchair rather quickly, but you still the need the crutches for support. Despite the fact that you weren’t really injured, at least not in the traditional sense, your body was still weak. You just cannot really rely on it right now, so the crutches are there to support and help you. You are just happy that you are out of the wheelchair and that you have a tiny bit of your independency back. What helps even more however, is the constant support of your friends. They cannot be with you right now, as there are still two more races for them to finish. Your doctor appointments keep you occupied, your family visits and helps you with whatever you need. Your friends call you, sometimes just to tell you minor things but it helps. You don’t feel isolated, and you cheer on them from your living room. Right now, it feels okay to not be on track – you feel like you are going to be okay.
The season ends in the end of November. Winter has Monaco in its grip, the first snow falls. Everything looks so pretty that you cannot really feel down. On top of that you love Christmas, and you keep yourself busy with present shopping, at least until you have to get ready to leave for England. It is a Tuesday, and you had just been at the doctor’s office. While your doctor is sure that you will fully recover, he also gives you a real perspective on things. The possibility is there that you can race next season, but the cost could potentially be high. He tells you to consider your options. Lando picks you up from this appointment and together you drive to the airport. The two of you were scheduled to fly to the McLaren headquarters for a week to discuss the next possible steps. The flight goes over quick, you are unusually quiet – and Lando just lets you be. He can sense that you need the time, so he gives it to you.
When you step out of the airport, Zak waits for there for you personally. The older man pulls you in a tight hug, it had been a while since he had seen you in person. “Good to see you, kid!”, he tells you with a fatherly tone in his voice. You grin at him, happy to see him. You climb into the car and Zak drives you to his home, to have dinner with his family. You quite enjoy it, but you feel yourself get tired after a while. Lando notices and decides to call a taxi for the both of you to drive to the hotel.
You share a suite, in case something was to happen during the night, but you sleep well. After a nice breakfast, you are getting picked up for the headquarters and inside you are feeling very nervous. You are good at hiding it, but you fiddle with your fingers. Lando takes one of your hands and gently squeezes it. Only now that you are not good on foot you realize how big the McLaren compound really is.
The core team meets in a room close to the entrance for your sake. They are all beyond happy to see you, everyone is relieved that you are on your feet again, at least partly. It is not many people, as you agreed with Zak to discuss the next steps in a small team before you met with everyone. After exchanging some courtesies, it is time for you to tell them of your decision. You take a deep breath and Lando once again squeezes your hand. No one knows what you are going to tell them, and you don’t really know how to tell them. You decide it is best to rip the band aid of fast.
“After consulting with my doctor yesterday, I think it is best if I resign for indeterminate time, until I am fully recovered.” The room is eerily quiet, everyone is a bit shocked. “While I could possibly sit myself into the car next season, I would not be able to give you guys the results you deserve. Trust me, this is not what I wanted, but if I race next season, the possibility of lasting health issues is very likely, and I do not believe that some half-assed results are worth that. I want to apologize –“ “Don’t!”, Zak interrupts you, “We have all developed a soft spot for you in our hearts, and we were all shocked when we heard what the doctors in Brazil said. Your health comes first. While we are deeply saddened about you resigning for indeterminate time, I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would like to keep you around one way or the other.” You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. On the one side because they were so supportive, on the other side because you stating your resignation makes it a lot more real.
Now it is official – at least within your team – that you will not start next season. It feels a bit like your world is ending, your goals are out of your reach. You feel hopeless, and like you are – quite frankly – an absolute loser. Self-doubts threaten to eat you up, you want to curl up in a ball and just stop existing for a while. You spent the rest of the meeting lost in your thoughts, and the next days go by in a blur. You visit the headquarter many more times that week, talking to the team, discussing the best way to communicate your indeterminate resignation. You call Pierre a lot, telling him about everything. He deserves to know from you, so do all of your other friends. You cry a lot those days, Lando never quite leaving your side. He is there for you, so is everyone else. Yet you find yourself withdrawing yourself from almost everyone except Pierre. You call him daily, sometimes more than once. Many times, he has to listen to you softly sobbing into the phone, and it breaks his heart. But he never blames you, he always listens, he always comforts you.
After an exhausting week, there is only one more thing to do – film your resignation video. You cry during the video too, but you don’t mind – you love your fans, and they deserve to know the truth and witness your real feelings about your resignation. In the end, the video is 10 minutes long – you explain your reasons, you promise that you will be back. And you mean that. Somehow, you have found your fighting spirit once again. The video ends with a collage of your best moments in F1. A tribute to your achievements so far, but you are now certain there will be more eventually. You will put all the work in necessary so that you would heal properly, and that you would be able to sit in the car next year.
You fly back to Monaco alone – Lando would have come with you, but you told him to stay home with his family for a bit. He drove you to the airport and saw that you get to the plane just fine. When you land, Lewis and Valtteri are already there to welcome you back. They are kind and gentle and brotherly, and your soul heals a bit when they take you to lunch that day. They don’t make you feel like a loser anymore, they tell you that they are proud of you for making this hard decision. The three of you share things that you have never spoken about before, and it helps. The sun is shining on a white Monaco and your heart becomes full and hopeful. You are still weak and exhausted, and when they take you home you are more than ready to sleep, but it is different.
The next week is a busy week once again. You visit your doctor and your personal trainer a lot, discussing measures to help you healing, and setting up a slow training program that would help keep you in shape, while not overburdening your body. You still call Pierre every day to talk to him. He is with his family in France for Christmas, and he has invited you to join him. You tell him you will once you feel better. He understands, like he always does. He makes you laugh with his joke, and he tells you he misses you. You miss him, and when he drops one of his compliments, it is somehow different now. Your cheeks heat up sometimes, and your heart skips a beat.
Christmas is nice, and special. You are home, and for once you have nothing to do – no real training, only little exercises. No media duties, and you enjoy the time with your family. After New Year’s, you travel back to home to Monaco to rest and heal. The boys are all there for you – for whatever you need. They ask you how you are all the time, and they help you where they can. It is the little things, really, and one day you feel particularly bad about it. You cannot really give them anything back at the moment, and you feel like you are using them. You wake up with those feelings that they, and to distract yourself from them, you go on Instagram. Scrolling through your feed, you occasionally send them funny videos. It was the least you could do. After an hour or so, you lift yourself out of the bed, finally. You are very hungry, and you think about ordering something, when suddenly your doorbell rings. You need some time to reach it, walking slowly with your crutches, and when you open it, Daniel stands there in front of you. “You send me the first Reel on Instagram like one hour ago, so I figured you are hungry by now. I brought groceries and I am here to cook for you!” “I… You shouldn’t have!”, you try to argue, but Daniel already moves past you and into your kitchen. You follow him slowly.
When you see that he is already collecting dishes to prepare breakfast, you just sigh. He picks up the defeated sound and perks up, smiling at you. His face falls when he sees the way you look at him, like you are almost crying. “Hey hon, what´s up?”, he asks you. “I just… I feel so bad about all of this. I feel like I am using all of you, and like I am not giving anything back!” Daniel shakes is head violently, and he comes over to pull you in a hug. You almost disappear in it, and he draws soothing circles on your back. “Y/n, don’t ever say or think something like that again. You have almost given your life for us, and this is what friends are here for. We help each other when we can – sometimes one or the other does give a bit more. It equals out in the end. Besides, you still listen to all of us rambling, and you still give the best advice!” He pulls away and a tiny smile is on your face now. He ruffles your hair and before you can protest, he is back in the kitchen. “Now, go rest your ass on the couch, mate!”, he says, and you cannot help but laugh when you limp over to the living room.
Breakfast is nice, and Daniel makes you laugh with his stupid jokes. It is good to feel like this. You know that right now was the easy part – your friends are here, and they all have time for you. But you are afraid of what is coming after the winter break – when they are all gone, and you won’t be able to be with them doing the things you love the most. It will most likely break your heart, but you try not to think about it, at least not now.
It is a few weeks later, the next season will start soon. You have picked up training again, very slowly. It mainly consisted off walking on the treadmill, holding onto the sides. A few easy exercises that keep your body mobile and flexible and your muscles occupied. Spring is blooming in Monaco; the first sun is shining. Everything is going well. Well, almost everything. Right now, you are beyond embarrassed.
You had felt better today, so you had taken the taxi down to your favourite park to enjoy some time there. It had been late afternoon already, you had walked around a bit and sat down in a small restaurant to eat dinner. Now, it is later than expected, it was dark, getting colder by the minute, and you are beyond exhausted. Furthermore, the crippling feeling in your legs leaves you to panic, which is why you – against all rationality – do not call a taxi. Instead, you call Max, who picks up almost immediately. “Can you pick me up, Maxie?”, you choke out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Send me your location!”, he says, and you can hear that he already picks up his keys. You nod, even though he cannot see that, and send him your location with shaky fingers. Max is there just ten minutes later to collect you. As soon as you see him, the tears really start to flow. He wraps his arms around you, his sweatshirt is collecting your tears, and he whispers encouragements while he gently strokes your hair. After a few minutes, you calm down and he helps you to his car.
He holds open the passenger door for you, and you climb in, almost falling because your legs are giving out under you. But Max is there, he catches you, and helps you. He closes the door behind you and gets in on his side. “You okay?”, he asks. You nod, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to wipe away the leftovers of your tears. Max starts the car and drives through the dark streets of Monaco. You don’t know where he is going until he stops at the drive through of a Fast-Food restaurant. “I figured the occasion called for ice cream or a milkshake”, he tells you when you he sees your questioning expression. A tiny smile creeps onto your face. Max orders you a milkshake and gives it to you. You hold it in two hands like a child and Max cannot help but laugh. You pout a little, but ultimately smile when he takes a picture of you holding the cup in your hand.
He drives you to your place and helps you up to your apartment. Reaching the door, he stops for a moment and thinks. “Would you like some company tonight?” For a moment you think about telling him to go home, because you don’t want to trouble him any further. But being alone tonight sounds terrible, so you push down the unnecessary feeling of guilt and nod. He steps into the apartment with you and helps you take of your jacket. Together, the two of you settle in on the couch and put on a movie. You feel your eyes get heavy, but before you can tell Max that he might as well go home as you are about to fall asleep, you slip into slumber.
The next morning, you wake up in your bed. You stretch and roll over to your phone. A text from Max. “Don’t get scared when you wake up, I am sleeping on the couch.” You smile to yourself and get up. Max is still asleep, so you climb into the shower. Once you are done and dressed, you make your way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Already in the hallway, you hear voices. You are confused – you know that Max is here, but who else? Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes fall on Pierre. Immediately, a big smile appears on your face. “Pierre!”, you exclaim happily and his face lights up once his eyes fall on you. He rushed over and wraps you in a tight hug. What you don’t see is the wiggling eyebrows Max aims at Pierre. Pierre just rolls his eyes and then closes them to take in your scent for a moment. Soon after, you break the hug, but Pierre stays close, his arm loosely wrapped around your hips.
Max excuses himself shortly after, as he has an appointment. You bit him goodbye, and when the door falls close, you turn around to Pierre. “Why are you here already?”, you ask him, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Not happy to see me?” You shake your head but laugh. “I am more than happy to see you, Pierre! I was just thought you would arrive in two days.” “Well,”, he says and wraps you in another hug, “I really wanted to see you!” You are happy that your face is buried in his chest because a blush creeps on your cheeks.
Pierre pulls back a little and looks at you. “Are you feeling better today?”, he asks with genuine concern. You nod, “Yeah, thanks to Max. He picked me up last night and stayed over to make sure I was okay.” “Max told me what happened. Please, ange, you need to be careful. I know it is hard to be confined in this space and not being as independent as you used to be, but you need to watch out for your health.” You sigh, but nod. “I know. I am just really tired off this, and I want to experience things again. I am afraid that I won’t ever be able to get into the car again…” Pierre nods understandingly. “I get that. But the more you rest and listen to your body, the sooner you will be fully healed.” “Yeah, you are right. I –“, you want to say something more, but suddenly, your stomach growls.
Pierre laughs and you grin, a bit embarrassed. “I think you need some food!”, Pierre says. “Yeah, I am starving!” The two of you make your way into the kitchen and just now you see the huge bouquet of flowers on your kitchen counter. “Wow, these are beautiful”, you exclaim, “Thank you Pierre!” He smiles and waves it off. “It´s nothing”, he says, but for you, it is everything. Pierre pulls out one of your pans, and as you are about to help him, he shoots you a glare. You lift your hands up in mock defence and make your way into the living room. You get your laptop from the couch and sit down on the dining table, as you have some things to finish up. Just because you were not a driver anymore, that didn’t mean that you had nothing to do. Especially now that the winter break slowly came to an end – you had agreed with McLaren that you would be involved in their Social Media activity. It had been Lando´s idea, and you are really grateful for it.
While you couldn’t start on the grid next season, you also didn’t want to entirely leave the F1 world. You are not yet sure if that is a good decision, to be involved but not driving, but you would have to wait and see. Pierre joins you a bit later with some breakfast, and you are beyond happy to finally have him with you again. The two of you will spend some time in Monaco together, before the new season started.
You make the most out of that time. Some days you just sleep in, you in your bed and Pierre in the guest bedroom, and then you would have a long breakfast, you would take a little walk, talked with the fans. He helps you with your exercises, he is a gentle trainer, yet he inspires you to go a tiny, tiny step forward every day. He massages your muscles when they are tired, he applies the lotion your doctor prescribed you. He takes you out for lunch or dinner, he goes shopping with you if that is what you desire. He finds the best clothes for you, you feel pretty in them, you feel worth it in them. He makes you feel safe and protected and if you knew better you would say that he makes you feel loved, but you don’t talk about that. Right now, it is not the time for it, and you both just enjoy what you have for now. The lingering touches, the way the two of you gravitated towards each other. He takes good care of you, and he never gives you the feeling of being a burden, even if you need help with silly little things. Like when your arms and hands are so tired that you cannot take off your own socks. He never makes you feel like you have to be embarrassed about any of those things and it helps.
The break ends soon after these great moments and you hold up quite well. Saying goodbye to Pierre is hard, and you cry. He holds you and presses a kiss on your forehead and tell you that you can always call him. But it will be different, there will be the time difference and he will be busy, and you will be not. He still makes sure to call you whenever, and it works good somehow. Maybe it is because summer comes to Monaco and your friends visit you whenever you can. You train, you take it easy, you rest, and you heal. Soon enough, you are able to go for jogs again, your training becomes longer and harder and you seem to be on the right way. By the summer break, you feel stronger already, and life is rather normal again. You still feel exhausted some days and you are not where you used to be. But you were okay with that.
The sun lifts your mood up, even on the days you don’t manage to run very far. You still go out these days, just go get the kilometres down, to keep your body moving. Summer break comes, and with that the boys are back in town. They spend most of their free time with you, and you are beyond grateful for that. It means the world to you, that they come and visit. Pierre spends a lot of time in Monaco with you as well. You take it easy, enjoying the time together. Just like over winter break, he takes you out a lot. You go and see museums, concerts, whatever there is to do. Some days are exciting, others are slow and relaxing. You take naps on the day bed on your balcony, enjoying the warm summer sun. Your head often rests on Pierre´s lap, or you are cuddled up in his arms during those naps. Still, you don’t talk about it, it is all very natural, your relationship growing stronger every minute you spend together. However, labelling it is not your priority right now, it is still your healing journey.
The two of you also spend lot of time together with the other drivers. Like today for example. Currently, you are laying in the warm sun on the deck of Charles yacht. The boys are bickering about something, while you are reading. You had just left the harbour a few minutes ago, and the boys already distracted you from your book. You cannot help but smile though, you had missed this. It was almost like you were still part of the driver line-up, and you feel relieved that nothing has really changed. They are all still the same adorable dorks they used to be. Some time later, Charles stops the yacht in the middle of the sea. By now you are sweating and very warm, so you are the first person to take the leap of the deck into the ocean.
It is not really a problem; you feel good today. The guys follow soon after, and you start to joke around, splash each other with water, dunking each other under. You have so much fun that you don’t really listen to your body. You splash and dunk and swim around. Pierre watches you closely, like he always does. When you climb up the ladder, he is relieved that you choose to take a break, so he follows. You, however, have other plans. You are about to get ready to jump off the boat another time, when Pierre stops you. “You sure about that, do you not rather want to take a break?” You grin at him with the objective to calm him down. “I feel fine, Pierre!” He nods. “Just be careful, okay?” “Of course!”
You feel your mistake when you start to run to jump off the deck. Your legs are suddenly very, very heavy. You cannot stop anymore however, and before you realize, you are in the air. The force of impact on the surface of the water knocks the breath out of your lungs, your entire body suddenly feels heavy – almost too heavy for you to swim towards the surface. It takes you long to emerge from the water, too long. The others realize when you don’t come up immediately. Charles starts to swim towards you. A splash rips you from your apathy and you swim towards the surface with heavy arms. You emerge coughing and one second later Pierre is right next to you. He helps you to hold yourself over water, and soon, Charles is by your side as well. You are embarrassed, but they don’t let on how scared they really were. Pierre helps you up the stairs and you sit down in one of the seating areas. Pierre brings you a towel and wraps you in it. When the towel is around you, he doesn’t let go. “I am sorry!”, you whisper, “I should have listened to you.” Pierre shakes his head. “Don’t worry, just don’t scare me like that again.” “I won´t!”, you promise and snuggle closer into Pierre. He holds you and you fall asleep soon after.
The rest of the summer break is spent similar. You hang out with Pierre and the guys, you go to France with Pierre, you visit your family, life is good. But then, the races start again, and fall comes to Monaco and with that the rain and the grey days. You are not able to go out of your apartment that much anymore, you are lacking energy and you feel like you are making steps back. Your training doesn’t go as smooch anymore, you feel like your comeback might be in jeopardy.
You are in a bad mood, there is no reason to sugar coat that. You are beyond miserable. The feeling that you will not return next season haunts you, and you are terrified of it. What if you will not manage to ever race again? You have never known something else; you have never learned something else. You feel like you are drowning, and your saving comes in form of a particular Frenchman. He knows that you had been able to go on runs again and that you did harder workouts again, he knows that you were on a way to get better. When your best friend calls him and tells him that you spent most of your days inside now not doing much, he doesn’t believe it at first.
He does, however, when you open the door and look like you haven’t changed out of your sweatpants in a week. You look messy, eyes puffy and tired features. He is scared to see you like this, so hopeless and so… He doesn’t know how to describe it, but you look so little, so tiny. You weren’t the tallest, but usually you carried yourself like you were the tallest in any room. Now, you are hunched over. For a moment he thinks you are going to close the door in his face, but you don’t. “Put your clothes on, we are going for a run!”, he tells you. You don’t protest verbally, but your attitude shows him enough. He doesn’t flinch though. He drags you out of the apartment – you still haven’t said a word. He takes your hand when you arrive downstairs, and he pulls you with him. A little “Pierre, I can´t!” leaves your mouth, but he pretends that he doesn’t hear it. And, after the first meters, you seem to shake off the paralysis that had a tight grip on you the past week.
Your breath is steady, and you are keeping up well with him. It starts to rain, the trail becomes wet, and you slip at some point. You fall, and this little happening seems to make you fall apart. You stay on the ground, and you don’t grab Pierre´s hand when he reaches out. At first, he doesn’t realize but then he sees that you are crying, and he doesn’t care about his outfit – he drops to his knees next to you and hugs you. You want to turn away from him, you feel so fucking weak and pathetic, and he sees you in that state. It embarrasses you; it makes you angry. You want to push him away, you struggle a bit against his grip, but Pierre doesn't let go of you.
“Why am I so weak?”, you cry softly in his shirt, but Pierre hears you. “You are not weak, mon ange”, he whispers. He pulls you a bit closer, like he is afraid that the rain will wash and carry you away. “You are the strongest person I know. I know that life is hard at the moment, and I cannot imagine how you are feeling. But you will get there, I know that!” “I feel like I am the absolute worst version of myself right now, and I just don’t see myself driving next year, but… But that´s all I have ever known, it´s all I have ever wanted!” Pierre still holds you close. The rain is coming down harder now, and you are getting soaked to the skin. You don’t care, it doesn’t matter to you. “If I know anything, I know that you will come back stronger next than ever next year!” “Why do you keep on believing in me, Pierre?”
“You might see yourself as the worst version of yourself right now, but I think you are the strongest, the fiercest version of yourself right now.” For a moment, Pierre falls silent. He takes a deep breathe before he whispers the words into your ear, as if he is afraid that they will be washed away by the rain when he speaks up or speaks them further away from you. “And I believe in you because it is the only thing that keeps me sane. I cannot even begin to think about the fact that you might not ever race again, because it would affect my life in so many ways. It might be selfish, but I would not get to see you as much anymore, and the thought of that is terrible to me. I want to be able to come out of the garage and walk over to hug you. I want to hear your laugh sound all over the paddock because someone cracked a joke. And, most importantly, I believe in you because I am completely and helplessly in love with you.”
You need a moment to take that information in, understanding what he just told you. “You don’t need to say anything, I –“, you stop him by pulling out of his hug and taking your face in both of your hands. The position is not really comfortable, but you don´t care. You press your cold lips against his and kiss him. He kisses you back, and you can feel his warmth seeping into your bones. The rain is still coming down hard, but all you can feel is Pierre's arms around you, and it feels like you have found a lifeline, like you have a new purpose to fight and return stronger than before.
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the girl next door 16
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You sit in another hard plastic chair, this time in an office. You can still hear the chaos of the hospital wing out the walls, a constant reminder of why you’re there. You sit with your elbow on the armrest, your chin in your hand as you bite your fingertips.
The nurse, or nurse practitioner, you don’t know the difference, sits across from you, making notes about your last response. Her questions are pointless. She’s asking about your day, well, it’s obvious that’s not going well. And your hobbies. What do those matter? You don’t do anything so you don’t have an answer for that.
She smiles across at you as she clears her throat. The sort of smile dripping in pity. You get it a lot from the old ladies at the grocery store when they see you helping your mother.
“Have you ever had a period where you felt down? Not just for a week or two but, in fact, for many weeks and, perhaps, months?” She asks.
You don’t answer right away. You push your shoulder up and sit back, dropping your hand to your lap. You frown and look at the ceiling.
“Hm, I guess. Sometimes... yeah.”
All the time.
“Along with that, did you find you had no energy, had no interest in things, and overall had great difficulty functioning?”
Functioning? In what way? Going outside? Smiling? Feeling anything but heavy dread? Not crying until your eyes are raw? Having friends?
“Sure, but uh, I take care of my mom. I don’t have time... sometimes...I get tired.”
"Right,” she scribbles noisily with her pen, “Has this ever happened to you before?”
“Has what happened?” You make yourself look at her.
“These bouts of sadness?”
“My mom is sick. It makes me sad.”
“What about today? You said that you... lost track of time.”
“I’m... my mom... I didn’t sleep well... I don’t know.”
She hums and nods. She pauses as she reads over her folder and puts the pen down. She crosses her arms over the desk.
“It’s normal for caretakers to suffer from depression. You’re taking on a lot so there’s no need to be ashamed. You did so well being so honest today. Really. It makes it easier for us to help you,” she smiles again. What about any of this is happy? “I’m going to write you a prescription. Just a few doses for now, okay? To help you through. And we’ll schedule a follow-up with a psychiatrist.”
“A psychiatrist?” You utter, your eyes hot with tear. “I’m not crazy.”
“That’s not... crazy, we don’t speak like that. And you’re not. You’re hurting and you need relief. That’s all,” she explains, “so, the pills I’m going to send you off with. I want you to be very careful, okay? No alcohol. They’re going to make you drowsy so no driving either.”
“But... my mom doesn’t drive. She can’t.”
“It’s just for a few days. You might want to consider looking into some of the local services. You can find a home nurse to come help out if you qualify,” she gets up and goes to a cabinet against the wall, “I have some pamphlets. You can take them with you and I’ll have someone find you with some samples of the pills. That way, you don’t need to pay, alright?”
Your lips trembles and you bite it to keep it still. You nod and stand as you flick the wetness from your eyes, “can I go?”
“Sure, I’m sure your mom will be ready to see you soon,” she approaches you with a handful of glossy leaflets. “I’ll walk you out.”
You take the pamphlets and she follows you to the door. You step into the hall as she stays close, “Mr. Rogers,” she calls over your shoulder as Steve sits in the hall waiting, “she’s all good. Got her sorted.”
“Great, uh, well, good news,” he stands, rubbing his lowers back, “your mom’s awake.” He announces, “can finally get off this stiff chair.”
“See, that’s wonderful,” the nurse nudges your arm, “I’ll have the medications brought to her room. Have a good day, hon.”
You clutch the pamphlets and stare at Steve’s chest. He points you down the hall and walks beside you.
“Everything go okay? What was that she said about medication?”
“Pills.”
“Pills? For what?” He prompts as he leads you along the hallway.
“Depression.”
“Oh.”
You look down, “guess I might be. I don’t know.”
“You work really hard, sweetie. You’re not invincible,” he comforts and rubs your back. You wince at his unexpected touch, “all this stress...” he trails off and reaches for the pamphlets in your hands. You let him take one, “what’s this?”
He reads as he walks, unbothered by the nurses rushing by and the cleaners in their grey scrubs.
“Home nurse? Hm, that might be a good option,” he clucks, “or maybe... I wouldn’t mind helping out, you know? I know it’s early days but I think we’ve gotten really close.” He folds up the paper and hands it back, “me and your mom... us too, I think.”
You shrug and drag your soles on the floor. He reads the door number as you reach your mom’s room and he waves you in ahead of him. You keep your head down as you go past the curtain as he directs you from behind. You stand at the foot of the bed, too afraid to look up.
“I’m starving,” your mother snarls. She sounds like herself, just tired.
You peek up and your eyes round. She scowls at you as she lays tangled in tubes. You quiver in relief. She’s alive and she seems mostly okay.
“What’re you staring at?” She sneers, “I know I look like death. I feel like it too.”
“Holly,” Steve steps forward, “thank god.” He comes to her side, “we were so worried.”
“Heh,” she snorts.
“Really, when I found you...” he tries to block you out as he lowers his voice, “you never told me you weren’t supposed to drink.”
“Never bothered me much before,” she dismisses, “figured it was just a precaution.”
“Excuse me,” a voice comes from the doorway and you look over at a young man in blue scrubs. He says your name, “I have some samples for you.”
You turn and wave meekly, confirming your identity. He enters and hands you several boxes secured together with a thick elastic.
“Directives on the side,” he points to the folded paper also looped under the rubber band.
“Thanks,” you say and he leaves you just as quickly.
Your turn back to your mom as her eyes center on you. She looks horrible. Sickly. Worse than you’ve ever seen her.
“What’s all that then?” She scoffs.
You try to hide the boxes under your arm and shake your head.
“Typical. She’s gotta get her share of attention.”
“Holly,” Steve girds, disappointment harshening his tone, “she was sick with worry over you. The nurse gave her those to calm down.” He grips the bedrail until his knuckles pale, “she has depression, you know? All the stress--”
“Stress?” Your mom rolls her eyes, “I didn’t realise she was the sick one. She’s not depressed, she’s lazy.”
Silence. Stifling, suffocating silence. You lower your chin, “it’s... I probably won’t take any of it. I was just... in shock. I’m sure I’m fine.”
“But the nurse said--” Steve begins, “you’re going to at least try it. You never know, it could help. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”
“Oh, don’t baby her. She’s grown,” your mom’s too out of it to filter her spite. You see the disgust in Steve’s expression as he looks at her.
“Holly, please, she’s your daughter.”
“I know who she is,” she snarls, “why are you taking her side anyway? She doesn’t need pills. It’s just another excuse.”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “I’m gonna chalk this up to whatever they’re pumping you full of. Holly, you’re not thinking straight. I know you would say all that to her.”
“Stop defending her. She’s not as innocent as she pretends.”
He shakes his head and glances over at you, “look, you just woke up, you’re out of it. I get it. Let’s just all calm down.”
“She’s a sniveling little brat,” she barks as she leans back. “This is all her fault. She knew I wasn’t supposed to drink. She didn’t stop me.”
Steve blanches and his eyes cling to you. You see the chagrin lined in his forehead. You look away in shame. You never wanted a witness to your mother’s wrath. That’s worse than facing her alone. It’s humiliating.
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snax-writes · 5 months
Note
could you please write a Derek Shepherd x reader fluffy piece where they're both neurosurgeons and they are the popular power couple? and maybe the female interns are jealous of her and she feels insecure so he like gives her this really passionate kiss in front of the new interns and her and Bailey and best friends so she smirks at her and the interns all get the message? Thank you so much
[thank you so much for your request! i made the kiss a bit less performative but i hope you like it!! i love writing marrieds so much.]
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Reassurance - d. shepherd
summary: you feel observed by the new interns, resulting in feeling a bit less secure than you normally would.
warnings: public displays of affection
word count: 205
You and Derek sat in the cafeteria, eating lunch together, and all you felt were the stares of a group of interns, burning on your skin. You picked at your salad.
“Do you have any more surgeries today?” You asked your husband, trying to ignore the feeling.
Derek nodded. “A pilocytic astrocytoma.” He studied your expression. “Actually, if you’re free, would you do me the honor of joining me?”
“What about Lexie?” You furrowed your brows.
“She wanted to join Mark for a surgery, I guess today is the day of surgery dates.” He grinned. “Are you okay, honey?”
“Yeah.” You sighed. “I hate that I let them get into my head so easily.”
A mischievous smile appeared on your husband’s face. “Do you need some reassurance?”
“Wha-” Before you could even finish your question Derek’s lips caught yours in a tender, loving kiss.
Your hand found the back of his neck, pulling him closer, trying to eliminate any distance between you. When you pulled away again, a little out of breath, you leaned your foreheads against each other. You grinned.
His hand found our thigh as you pulled back, giving it a supportive squeeze. “I love you, alright?”
You nodded. “I love you too.”
© snax-writes, 2023
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think, send a request!
if i missed a content warning, please tell me and i'll add it!
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onigiriico · 10 months
Text
Kazui audio drama (t2) - English TL
[ links: Spotify / Youtube ]
I cannot believe my hs philosophy class came in handy as I was translating this. Thanks Milgram your references never fail to astound me
Aaanyways you know how it is,, feel free to send an ask or hit me up on Twitter if you’ve got any questions or other feedback re: this translation etc 💪 (<- sincerely hoping that Twitter DMs still work these days)
⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️
(door opens)
E: I’ve kept you waiting, Kazui.
K: It’s been a while, Warden-kun.
E: Yeah… It has been.
K: Things have gotten pretty tough inside the prison, but… well, you’ve probably heard all about that from the others already, haven’t you?
E: Yeah… I heard that you protected other prisoners from Kotoko. I owe you my thanks.
K: That much is only natural. However… she really is strong, isn’t she? I mean, I’ve experienced some fights myself, but [going up against] a woman like her was a first.
E: Hm… Is she strong enough that even you can’t stop her from doing harm?
K: Well, in cases like this, it’s generally the heavier person who ends up winning. After all, if she really does have proper killing intent, I can’t afford to let her injure anyone. It’s difficult, isn’t it.
E: Is that so…
K: I was afraid that it’d come to this from the very beginning. There’s a lot of young kids here, too. It’d be hard for anyone to keep a decent mentality in a situation like this.
E: …You’re pretty rational.
K: I wonder. Maybe it’s because I’m used to violence. Even so… I couldn’t make it for Shiina-chan. I feel responsible for [what happened to] her.
E: …
K: Well, rest assured, though. As long as I can move, I’ll be protecting [the others]. After all, it’s pretty much just me who can fight her on equal terms.
E: Mikoto, too.
K: Ah… yeah. Like back when he went out of control, right? I can’t quite read him, though… If both of them were to attack us, it’s possible that we’d suffer a total defeat. 
E: A total defeat…?
K: If that happens, this prison game would probably come to an end as well. All of that depends on your judgment, right, Warden-kun? Who will be forgiven by you and who won’t be…
E: What are you trying to say?
K: If at all possible, I would like you to choose a method that will not get any more people hurt. That’s what I’m saying.
E: So you’re telling me to forgive you?
K: (laughs) Oi, oi…! Don’t look at me like that.
E: I’m the Warden. If I forgive you, I forgive you. If I don’t, I don’t. There’s no other factors to it.
K: (sighs) Wouldn’t it be okay? I mean, this situation with prisoners being hurt wasn’t what you wanted either, was it?
E: …
K: Just pretend that you’re looking at our sins, and make your judgment with the protection of the prisoners in mind. After all, nobody can read your mind – so that much craftiness would be fine, don’t you think?
E: Hmph. That’s a very “you” kind of pretentious solution.
K: It’s the most natural conclusion, isn’t it? Do you think it’s a sin to lie in order to protect people?
E: That would be Kant.
K: Kant?
E: A philosopher who stated that lying is inherently a sin, no matter the circumstances.
K: Huh…
E: Apparently, even if your friend is being chased by a murderer and the murderer asks you about their whereabouts, you shouldn’t lie, according to Kant.
K: That’s ridiculous. If you can save someone by telling a lie, that’s what you should do.
E: However… You killed someone with your lies, didn’t you?
K: … Ah… You forgave me, didn’t you? Aren’t you being especially strict towards me?
E: Am I?
K: Mmh, it’s obvious. You said you would figure out my murder by watching the footage of my mind. Is this the result of that?
E: You were unfaithful, right? That’s stupid.
K: Hmm…
E: The reason I forgave you was because I was lacking details. I still don’t understand your true feelings or how things got to that point, either.
K: I see.
E: It was extremely hard to understand. Even with all of that poetry, though, your self-absorbed nature was more than obvious.
K: Ohh my… That’s quite the sweeping generalization, even though you forgave me.
E: It’s a personal dislike of mine. People who act based on their sexual urges like that, that is.
K: It’s personal?
E: Yeah. That’s right.
K: That’s strange. I did think that, despite being neutral as a Warden, you had some things you dislike, but…
E: …
K: Isn’t it unusual to openly reveal a personal dislike as a personal dislike?
E: You’re splitting hairs.
K: Seems like you really disliked my crime… I get it! Maybe it was because you’re so young, which is to say… …
E: Hah? Stop staring at me so openly. It’s disgusting.
K: …
E: …! (punches him)
(clattering)
E: (sighs) Now I feel better.
K: — Ow…! What are you doing all of a sudden…?!
E: It was an instinctive reaction. Don’t take it personally.
K: Would you stop just punching me in the face without hesitation? … (sighs) Anyways… that’s how it is, huh? That’s how it is…?
E: Hah?
K: I didn’t even consider this a possibility… Personal impressions sure can be scary.
E: If you say any more things than this that I don’t get, I’m hitting you again.
K: Geez, cut out the hysterics… Hmm, if it’s like this, that explains some things, though. I don’t have kids, but I’ve heard that this is what it’s like.
E: Hey. Stop blabbering on while looking like you know it all. It’s obnoxious.
K: Hahaha! But you know what? You’re wrong.
E: …? What are you talking about?
K: You’re wrong.
E: …
K: You said I was unfaithful – in other words, that I cheated or committed adultery of some kind.
E: Yeah. That’s what I deduced from your footage.
K: It’s not true. It didn’t even turn into infidelity. It didn’t turn into anything like that. For me… In my case, you see.
E: … You’re married… You’re a married man, aren’t you?
K: Hm? Yeah, that’s right. Oh, right, I never told you, did I?
E: You’ve taken off your ring.
K: … Right… I did take it off, huh. Right…
E: Yeah.
K: Mh. … I do carry it with me, though. See? – I was forgiven. My feelings were validated. So… maybe that means that I don’t have to do this anymore? Thanks to that, I was feeling better when the second trial started… I really do feel sorry about that. Towards my wife.
E: If that ring is a symbol of punishment to you… There really is nothing that could possibly be more cruel towards her.
K: Mmh.
E: Marriage is something that both partners want equally, isn’t it? It’s something you can’t do if only one person wants it. Deciding to treat it as a punishment all on your own… You’re making a mockery out of it.
K: I really am. Ah… She must have thought so as well. My wife, that is.
E: I’ve said this before: You’re a liar. Those lies have killed a person.
K: (sighs)
E: I forgave you. While I wasn’t sure yet, I thought that it didn’t seem like you killed her directly, and with all sorts of things taken into consideration, I judged that your murder was not a sin. However. That doesn’t mean that I’m praising your nature as a liar.
K: Yeah. I believe you’re right about that.
E: In short – between love and hate, [I would say] I hate you. Remember that.
K: … I get that.
E: Huh?
K: I despise myself for lying, too. Being a liar, you see – it’s painful.
E: Heh. Then just–
K: So I’ve tried to change! I’ve tried to change. I have tried to stop lying to myself and others!
E: …
K: I’ve confided in others. I’ve tried to be myself! I’ve tried to just be the way I was born!
E: …Hey, Kazui–
K: It’s not my lies that killed her. She’s dead because I stopped lying to her! If I had just kept lying- She wouldn’t have died…!
E: Kazui…
K: I can’t live unless I lie. That’s how I was born… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?
E: (sighs) I really can’t seem to understand you.
K: …
E: Just when I thought you weren’t letting out any of your true feelings and cleverly hiding your actual emotions… Now here you are, drowning in self-loathing like this.
K: (weak laugh) An old man in unstable condition… that’s not something you’d wanna see, is it. Sorry about that.
E: You know, about Kant…
K: Ah, the one who said you shouldn’t lie even if your friend might get killed.
E: From his point of view, if your friend dies because you didn’t lie, there’s no causal connection between the two… or so I’ve heard.
K: I don’t think so, though…
E: Even if you don’t lie, your friend might survive. And if you do lie, your friend might end up dying on a different occasion. That’s the reason why you’re supposed to always tell the truth.
K: …That’s convincing.
E: It’s not really.
K: Yeah, it’s not.
E: It may not be, but… I thought that for someone who has failed in their attempts to be honest, it might be a [saving] grace so they won’t end up doubting honesty in its entirety.
K: …
E: I still don’t know what happened, but… isn’t it okay to be proud that you made an effort to be honest in the first place?
K: … You’re so kind all of a sudden.
E: I just said what I was thinking. And besides – I forgave you. I made it as if your sin wasn’t a sin at all. And yet, you don’t seem the slightest bit relieved.
K: I know right.
E: Everyone else seems more or less liberated by the fact that they were forgiven.
K: That’s right.
E: Just from that… I understand that having your feelings approved of by someone else can have a major impact on the development of one’s personality.
K: …
E: However… You have not forgiven yourself. That’s why you can’t change.
K: …
E: Alternatively, even if your lying self was forgiven… it would still do nothing to help you.
K: …Aah, you really are impressive. You think so much.
E: I am watching over ten troublesome prisoners, after all. Even if I don’t want to, I’m being relied on.
K: I haven’t forgiven myself… even if my lies are forgiven, it won’t resonate [with me]. It might just be both of these. All the lies I’ve told are tying me down. Ever since I was little, I’ve never truly opened myself to anyone. But in the end, people can’t be saved if they don’t [open up]. And by now, it’s gotten to a point where I can’t do it by myself anymore…
(machinery whirrs, bell rings)
K: I did think Milgram would be able to force its way past that, though.
E: Is that an attempt at provocation?
K: You didn’t manage to reach my sin.
E: …
K: Even though I want you to… Milgram isn’t so great after all, is it?
E: …Heh. Don’t push yourself too hard, after all that whining from earlier.
K: Ha. [This is] the wish of a liar who’s reached a dead end – come and figure out my lies, Milgram. And, Es… please, free me from these lies.
E: Yeah. Leave it to me. – Prisoner no.7, Kazui. Sing your sins.
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billybob598 · 10 months
Text
More Than You Know (Leah Williamson x Reader)
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All right! So this is a F1 reader x Leah fic requested by anon. Again any feedback good or bad is welcomed! I'm sorry if there's lots of f1 talk and some don't get it. I have another f1 fic coming up but other than that nothing else so, if people want to start sending me requests, please do! I'll get more into that later. Anyways, enjoy!
Word Count: 2.1K (That's what Docs said anyways)
Set at Abu Dhabi GP, end of 2023
Thursday
“Hello everyone, and welcome to the final press conference of the 2023 Formula 1 season.” You fix your shirt as you settle into the seat. Max Verstappen, your teammate, on your left with Charles Leclerc beside him.
“Question for Y/N and Max, heading into the final race of the season the title battle is close between the two of you. What kind of mindset do you have for one of the most important races in your career?”
“To win,” Max says simply. All the reporters let out a laugh as you crack a smile.
“Y/N?” The guy who asked the question prompts you.
“Uh, well, I mean for sure to win is the goal but, trying to just stay calm and do what I’ve done for the last twenty-two races,” you explain. After a few more minutes of questions, they let you go. Walking through the paddock and into the Red Bull garage you can’t help but let your mind spiral. This was your first championship battle, this was Max’s third. You were only 22 years old, if you won on Sunday you’d be the youngest-ever F1 champion and the first-ever female champion. You knew you had to be a little lucky on race day, considering you sat five points behind Max. 
Entering your driver room you’re met with your girlfriend, Leah Williamson.
“Hey babe, what are you doing now?” She asks you, watching as you pace back and forth across the room.
“Track walk, I think.” 
“Okay, well I’m going to meet up with Alex in a couple of minutes so, I’ll see you later, yeah?” She presses a small kiss on your forehead. 
“Okay, yeah, see you later,” 
Friday
You loved racing around Yas Marina Circuit, it had just the right amount of technical corners and overtaking opportunities. You loved the lights and going underneath the hotel. Probably the worst part of it though, was the heat. Sitting in your car you feel like you’re going to die from the heat. Sweat just keeps pouring from every pore on your body, making your race suit damp. At the end of Free Practice 2 you were the fastest overall. This gives you a little bit of confidence, your race pace also seemed to be pretty strong so these were all good signs. Leah watches as you take your crash helmet and balaclava off, trying your best to fix your sweaty hair. You looked hot, and Leah was living for it.
“You’re drooling,” Alex, who happened to be right beside her, said. Leah shakes out of her trance enough to give Alex a light slap on the shoulder. 
“Whatever mate, if you had a girlfriend as hot as mine you’d be drooling as well.”
A couple of hours later, after all the media was done and the sponsor dinner was finished, you and Leah finally were able to settle into bed. Leah’s arm draped over you and her head nuzzled into your neck. She was just about to doze off when you spoke very quietly into the darkness,
“Would you be mad at me if I didn’t win?” Of course, Leah knew you were nervous, who in their right mind wouldn’t be? But, for you to think that she would be angry with you if you finished second? That was terrible.
“Of course not, love, I’d be sad for you, sure, but mad? Never.” This seems to calm you down a bit, and soon enough you both are sleeping soundly.
Saturday
“Good luck kiss?”  Your favourite blonde questions. It was a tradition in your relationship, whenever either of you were participating in a sporting event you had to make sure you kissed just before it started. 
“Of course,”  you say with a smile, not that she can see it. Your helmet already on with your visor up so she can see your eyes. Leah kisses where she imagines your lips are, you can’t help the dopey smile that comes across your face, the squint of your eyes making it obvious what you’re doing.
Leah watches on as your car pulls out of the garage and onto the track. After making it through both Q1 and Q2 easily now comes the biggest test, the top 10 shootout. Your banker lap for Q3 is solid, only six-hundredths of Max’s time and you know you can improve. As you cross the line to start your second flying lap you feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. Every turn of the steering wheel, every push of the pedals, and every G against your body feels just right. Heading into the final sector you know you’re going faster than your first lap. Crossing the line, your entire body relaxes as you hear your engineer over the radio,
“Okay mate, that’s P1 so far, P1 so far, but Max is yet to cross the line.” You wait anxiously for Max to finish his lap. Leah feels her heart sink as she sees Max’s name move above yours on the timing screen. 
“For fuck’s sake, fuck this shit, honestly,” you say over the radio.
“It’s okay Y/N, points come tomorrow,” your engineer replies.
“You’re right, you’re right, let’s get them tomorrow.”
Leah gives you a hug when she finally sees you after all the media and post-qualifying traditions.
“You did great love, don’t be too hard on yourself,” she says sweetly. You sigh, knowing she is right.
“Mhm, I’m not that happy but I’ll get over it. I think right now all I wanna do is go back to the hotel and cuddle with you,” you mutter with a little pout. Leah finds this adorable. So, when you guys do get back to the hotel she cuddles with you until you fall asleep, only hours before one of the most important races of your life.
Sunday
When you wake up you feel the nerves settle inside of you. Leah tried her best to get you to eat something before your race. Abu Dhabi was a night race so, you still had the whole day ahead of you. After going through the pre-race meetings with your engineers you feel pretty confident in the strategy for today. As you walk around the grid with the music in your headphones blasting you see your girlfriend walking towards you. Slipping one side of your ear so you can hear, you give her a questioning look. She never usually comes onto the grid before races, why would she now? 
“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” Leah says kindly, “I know you’re nervous, but don’t be, you’re gonna smash it out there.” Your heart melts at her consideration.
“Thanks Lee, I’ll do you proud I swear,” you say, looking at her with what can only be described as heart-eyes. 
“You already have, more than you know,” she smiles at you, giving one last kiss on your lips before heading back to the garage.
A couple of minutes later, you’re sitting inside your car mentally preparing yourself for the race. The entire formation lap your mind is blank, trying your best to not overthink. As you park in your grid slot as close to a billion people watch with their breaths held.
“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix!” Crofty exclaims into his microphone.
You get a good start drawing alongside Max heading into the first corner, but he pushes you wide. As the pair of you continue to the first of two long straights, you follow closely behind him gaining a slipstream. When you enter the braking zone you decide to go for a dive bomb, getting your elbows out a little to barge past your teammate and take the lead. 
“She can’t fucking do that, mate. She pushed me off the track,” Max voices to GP.
“If Max has a problem with that, then he can cry in a crib, that was clean.”
As the race gets past halfway done, both you and Max had made pit stops, while also exchanging the lead of the race multiple times. Leah had about chewed her entire nail off watching. She was nervous as hell, she could feel something bad about to happen, she just knew it in her gut. 
You once again closed up to the rear end of Max with DRS. As you got close enough to pass you slightly jerked out to the left before cutting back to the right, effectively dummying him. You were on the outside heading into the sweeping left-hander of Turn 9, you tried your best to give him space, but he completely misses the apex and rams into your front wheel/side of your car. Your neck whips to the side as you try to keep control of your car. 
“What the fuck was that?! What a fucking idiot, I gave him shitloads of space! Is there any damage on the car?” You are pretty much yelling into the radio. The anger you’re feeling showing through your choice of words.
“So, major front wing damage we are going to have to box. Box, box.” Swearing under your breath you pull into the pit lane for new tyres and a new front wing. Stopping on your marks you sit there for what feels like forever before finally getting the green light and getting back on track. Leah knows you are fuming but she also knows that you’re very good at turning that anger into motivation. She readies herself for a wild end to the race.
“Okay, so the gap to Max is 30 seconds.”
“Just leave me alone, I know what to do,” you say sternly.
For the next 24 laps, you put in of the most impressive comebacks in F1 history. Closing the gap a little bit each lap. You fully catch up to him on the final lap of the race. The entire world sits on the edge of their seat as you stick right up to Max’s gearbox for the majority of the lap. Entering the final sector, you find the gap to stick your nose down. Making an unorthodox move down the inside into Turn 12. When it becomes clear that you stuck the move your side of the garage goes crazy. Leah screams, thinking it is too good to be true. As you head around the final corner, the Red Bull mechanics hang off the side of the fence cheering and yelling as you cross the finish line. 
“She’s redefined motorsport as we know it, and as she crosses the line Y/N Y/L/N is CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” Crofty shouts. 
“AAAHHHH OH MY GODDDD! YESSS GUYS COME ON! I’M GONNA FUCKING CRY!” You scream over the radio. 
“YOU” VE DONE IT MATE! YOU’VE DONE IT! GOOD LORD!” Your engineer screams back at you. You start to cry as you go around for your celebration lap. When you park in front of the number 1 sign you take a minute inside of your car to collect your thoughts. Finally, you get out and stand on top of the car, raising your arms in celebration. You jump down and start sprinting to your team. After receiving multiple hugs and slaps on the back, mixed with a varying range of screams and yells, you decide to look for your girlfriend. Looking around you spot your favourite person on Earth and make a beeline for her. She pulls you into a bone-crunching hug, tears streaming down her face. 
“I’m so fucking proud of you, more than you know,” she says tearfully. You give her an award-winning smile before moving to take your helmet and balaclava off. You surprise Leah when you connect your lips in front of God knows how many cameras. 
“I’m a World Champion Lee, a World Champion.”
“I know Y/N, I know,” she giggles at how excited you look. After completing the post-race interview you make your way to the podium.
“And your Abu Dhabi Grand Prix winner and 2023 World Champion, Y/N Y/L/N!” 
The crowd and paddock below you roar as you make your way onto the podium, pumping your fists with joy. Stepping onto the top step of the podium, a sense of relief washes over you, everything you’d worked for this entire season, your entire life basically, had finally paid off. You take your cap off when your national anthem plays and begin to scan through the crowd until you meet blue ones. You give her a grin and blow her a kiss. She returns it. When you are finally handed your first-place trophy you raise it high with a little yell. After the rest of the podium is handed their trophies, you get to your favourite part, the champagne. Spraying it in every possible place, you can’t stop the stupid-looking smile from taking over your facial features. When the celebrations seem to die down a little you look over at Leah, mouthing,
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” she mouths back.
“More than you know.”
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candysims4 · 8 months
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MODULAR SET
A small but adorable set with four items: 1 hair, 1 top, 1 "dress," and a pair of earrings.
THE FULL CREATOR’S NOTES IS BELOW THE CUT.
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ALL ITEMS ARE:
TEEN TO ELDER
BASE GAME COMPATIBLE
MADE FOR FEMALE FRAME
DISALLOWED FOR RANDOM
360º GIFs & THUMBNAILS (HOSTED IN IMGUR)
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LOLA HAIR
HAT GAME COMPATIBLE
3.730 POLYGONS
119 SWATCH COLORS - 24 plain colors from EA Color Palette - 95 plain colors from my Candy Color Palette
YOU WILL FIND IN LONG HAIR OR/AND STRAIGHT OR/AND UPDO
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AMANDA EARRINGS
1.920 POLYGONS
65 SWATCH COLORS - 10 metallic colors - 55 plastic colors
YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/EARRINGS
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ROSALIA TOP
3.492 POLYGONS
95 SWATCH COLORS - 55 plain colors - 40 patterned
YOU WILL FIND IN TOP/BLOUSE
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ROSALIA (DRESS) SKIRT
1.112 POLYGONS
95 SWATCH COLORS - 55 plain colors - 40 patterned
YOU WILL FIND IN BOTTOM/SKIRT
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MY SITE (NO AD.FLY): LOLA HAIR | AMANDA EARRINGS (TWO VERSIONS) | ROSALIA TOP & (DRESS) SKIRT Free release on 3rd October 2023
PATREON EARLY ACCESS + MERGED OPTIONS
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TERMS OF USE | SEND YOUR FEEDBACK | REPORT AN ISSUE
Thanks to all the cc creators that I used in the pic. And thanks to @maxismatchccworld, @simblrcollective, @s4library​, @wewantmods​, and everybody who reblog this post!
If you’re a cc finds and want to be tagged when I post, please, let me know. You can send me an ask or in DM.
With your help, more people can know about my work! 💖 Love you all, XOXO 💖
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CREATOR'S NOTE:
As I was brainstorming ideas for a new outfit, I asked myself a simple question: "Why not create a modular outfit like I did with hair before?" This inspired me to design a dress with a top outfit that can be easily paired with other items, as both pieces can be worn separately. I know this might sound a little unconventional, but I just wanted to mix things up and try something new. I hope you're cool with my different ways of doing things and that you're able to put together some really cool outfits.
The "Rosalia (Dress) Skirt" is in the skirt category, and you know what's great about it? You can mix and match it with other stuff or even with some CC, and it still works like a charm. I personally think it looks cute and works well with sweaters, making it an excellent choice for fall outfits. I plan on creating some sweater looks with this dress in the future.
I've included a few examples to give you an idea of how it can be styled, but feel free to make it your own. Check out the photos on the site.
Rest assured that all the items are categorized correctly, but that doesn't take away from their individual shine.
I was so torn between the plastic and metal swatches/specs for "Amanda Earrings" that I just went for both! They're seriously gorgeous and go with pretty much any outfit.
Last but not least, the "Lola Hair". This cute and romantic low pony with a pretty bang adds the perfect finishing touch to the whole look. It's a versatile hairstyle that can work with different outfits, occasions, and moods.
And as ever, all these items have been made to be worn together or separately - whatever you decide! I hope you like these items and enjoy playing with them. XOXO <33
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clownartmonth · 11 months
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2023 Prompt List
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The 2023 Prompt List is here!
Clown Month is an event held in July, in the same vein as Inktober or Mermay, where you create one piece of art for every day of the month.
The only goal of the event is to inspire art and celebrate clowns, so the prompts are entirely optional - you can skip prompts, combine them, ignore them entirely, only do certain days... just have fun!
This is open to all forms of art! Drawing, writing, makeup, doll-making, ...
If you want me to reblog something you made for/is inspired by the event, you can: 1. tag me in the post 2. use the tag #clown month 2023 or 3. send it as an ask or a submission.
If you do NOT want me to reblog your work, please say so in your post.
If you have any other questions, feel free to send me an ask or a dm!
Also, thank you to @demoniclown and @misumisu2002 for sending in their clownsonas for the illustration, and to anyone else who came by during the streams to say hi or give feedback :°)
Image ID and prompt list under the cut
Image ID: A banner at the top of the image reads "Clown Month", with "@boxbug presents" written above it. A yellow balloon with "2023" floats next to it. 3 clowns hold up panels that list all the prompts. The list is as follows:
Clownsona
Pride
Merry-go-round
Tarot
Dessert
Egg
Mask
Mirror
Bug
Game
Valentine
Dance
Abstract
Demon / Angel
Sea
Night
Creature
Forest
Rain
Comet
Fight
Strawberry
Sci-fi
Ruffles
Halloween
Paint
Vintage
Joy
Melancholy
Guardian
Dream
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fabrickind · 8 months
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Hella Big Skirts panel
Ever wanted to make a hella skirt? Wondering how to keep your hella big skirt puffy? Join cosplayer fabrickind to learn the ins and outs of patterning, sewing, and supporting the large, fluffy skirts of your dreams!
This is just the bare bones of the panel, as many of the examples were elaborated on in-person, and it is just the slides, not any of my notes. It is not meant to be exhaustive or definitive, and is just meant for general advice and suggestion purposes only. If anyone has feedback they would like to give, feel free to do so. That said, I hope that people find this information useful.
Here is a link to a pdf of the presentation. You may download for personal use, but please do not alter the presentation, repost without permission, or do any sort of other unauthorized use. (If you have a question about how you can use this presentation, please send me a message with your question and we can work it out. I promise I’m not scary. ;]) Feel free to reblog this post as much as you want, though. I do these panels and post them because I want the information to be shared.
I hope someone finds this helpful! :]
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russellsppttemplates · 5 months
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Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)
Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother
Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.
"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.
"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.
"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.
You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".
"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.
"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.
"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.
Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.
"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.
"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.
He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills
Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?
If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!
We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!
He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance
Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?
"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.
"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.
.
"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.
Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.
The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.
Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.
Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.
"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.
"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.
"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".
Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.
"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.
"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.
"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.
"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.
Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.
"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.
.
"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.
"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.
"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.
"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.
Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.
"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.
.
"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.
"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.
The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.
"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.
You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.
"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.
"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.
"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.
"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.
Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".
"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.
.
The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.
"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.
Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.
"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.
"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.
"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.
It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.
"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.
"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.
"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.
"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".
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fxllfaiiry · 1 year
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⛧ ─ 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 !
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pairing: jake sully x reader
warnings: dark content ahead. 18+ only!!
authors note: please reblog and leave feedback !! also feel free to send in small thoughts if u want 🫶
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★ rough and mean sex w him !! you love when he’s gentle but rough jake is a new level of hot.
★ makes you ride his thigh, while you hug his arms and bite his shoulder.
★ he’s a pro at fingering you !!
“Atta girl, look at you, riding my fingers like a slut” Jake laughs looking at your fucked out state.
★ makeout sessions w him are messy, sometimes soft and giggly, while other times are rough. I think he’s a hardcore lip-biter.  
★ is basically begging to eat you out at any given time. he loves thrusting his tongue in and out trying to make you squirt.
★ eats you out like an absolute animal.
★ breeding kink and daddy kink !!
“Want daddy to fuck a baby into you, yeah?” Barley comprehending his question you nodded, you could feel him deep inside of you. His cock was filling you up so good, and you were practically squeezing the life out of him. You wanted this feeling to last forever.
★ I fully believe in mutual masturbation w him. teasing your weeping hole to the thought of his mouth sucking and slurping you clean later.
★ spanking your pussy as a punishment.
★ loves seeing how red and swollen your pussy looks after he's wrecked it, bonus when his cum is dripping out.
★ he’d beg you to ride his face, bumping his nose up against your clit.
★ purring whenever you’d give him a bj or a handjob (just purring in general).
★ either you have your hands on his tits, or he has them on yours…or both??
★ 100% has a thing for tying you up.
★ size kink.
“Look at how small and pathetic your pussy looks. Need me to fill it up, hm?” Jake asks, while gently teasing your clit. “Yes, please, please.” You moan, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “Are you sure I'll fit, baby?” Jake smirked looking down at you all cocky. “Yes, yes, it will, please just fuck me already.”
★ your legs refuse to work the next day.
★ he’s definitely into choking you, just think bout those big, veiny, hands being wrapped around your neck.
★ if you get pregnant he’d be obsessed with your tits 24/7, getting turned on by you doing nothing. not that he isn't anyway.
★ he loves whenever you tug his hair, the whimpers he lets out are adorable :(
★ he’s a switch in my opinion.
★ cumming on the spot whenever he calls you babygirl.
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