#but also please let me have my writing :( this is the last message i’ll send you. it’s cruel to keep this from me. i’d never do this to u.

[norrizzandpia]

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris edit #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 x you

[monzabee]

lean on you – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.

Pairing: charles leclerc x medstudent!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: it’s been a while since i went to an actual hospital, so that, and also worried charles, mentions of sickness and vomiting, also mentions of food poisoning

Request: “Hiiii! I don’t know if you still accept request😅 but I have something in my mind if you are open to it, like the reader is quite sick before Charles’ race, he wanted to stay to take care of her but she insisted that he go on with the race and that she’ll be fine. But during the race, Charles’ got a call that she have been taken to the hospital by Lorenzo since she almost passed out. Charles went straight to the hospital and bit mad and angry at her being so stubborn. I just think Charles can be over protective and can be so upset or angry when he get very worried. Like how Charles will emphasise that she have him instead of being so independent all the time. 🤍🤍🤍 thank you if you will do it, but if not, it’s alright too! I just love and enjoy reading all your works!🤩 ”+ “Can you write a fic where the reader is a med!student with Charles? (definitely not projecting🫣)”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i loved both of these concepts and i though they’d go well together, because most of my friends who are also med students love diagnosing themselves?? i kind of wanted to based the reader off of bow from black-ish if you guys ever watched it, it’s my current watch and i love her so much!! it was very fun for me to write, and thank you to both of the anons for their requests! Feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“Are you sure you’re fine, mignon? You look worse than you did last night.” Charles lets his eyes look over your fatigued figure in your bed, worry etched into his eyebrows.

Giving him a weak smile, you do your best to reassure his worries by reaching for his hand resting on the side of his body. “I’m fine, love, I feel better than I did yesterday.” Charles sighs softly, his worry not entirely dissipating. He moves closer to the bed, his hand tightening around yours, and you squeeze his hand gently, relaying the message that you appreciate his concern. “I really am, you don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

“You say as if that’s an easy thing, love.” He emphasises, giving you a small smile that still allows you to see the dimples on his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you alone, you seem worse than you did last night.”

Your expression softens as you recall the way he doted on you the previous evening, no matter how much you told him that you were doing fine. “I promise I’m feeling much better, it’s nothing but a stomach bug – and I promise I’ll rest today, too.”

Charles leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You better keep that promise and rest, it’s doctor’s orders," he says with a hint of playfulness in his voice. "I'll hold you to it.”

You chuckle weakly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I promise, Charles. I'll stay in bed, take my medicine, and rest. I have some lecture stuff I have to go over, anyway." You pause, looking up at him with sincere eyes. "And you need to focus on your race. I don't want you to worry about me, be careful out there please.”

His lips form a mock pout, making your facial muscles to pull in an involuntary smile, “But my favourite part is the part where my doctor takes care of me,” his thumb draws a comforting circle on your hand, “your kisses help immensely.”

You blush at his playful comment, grateful for his affectionate nature even in times of worry. “I promise I’ll give you kisses when you come back, but only if you promise you’ll be careful.” You sigh deeply at the boyish grin he sends your way, “I’m serious, Charles.”

Charles's expression softens, and he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm. "I promise, my love. I'll be careful. Do you need me to bring you anything before I leave?”

Your nod is sluggish and doesn’t go unnoticed by Charles, but he chooses to remain silent as he gives you a moment to think about your answer. “Can you just give me my computer and anatomy book, please?” You watch as Charles nods in understanding. He leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips before making his way to the desk where your belongings are kept. Retrieving the items you requested, he returns to your bedside, placing them gently on the bed beside you.

"Here you go, mignon," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. He notices the way you keep fiddling with the collar of his your sweatshirt – a habit you usually display when you’re sick because the clothing usually causes overstimulation in your mind. “Do you want me to bring you some water? Or maybe order room service?”

You shake your head to the either side this time, giving him a sleepy smile as you start talking, “I’m good, but thank you, darling.” You let out a small giggle at the unapproving glance he sends your way, “I promise I’ll order some food when I get hungry, Charles.”

Charles chuckles softly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern at the way you emphasise the word. "Alright, love. Just make sure you take care of yourself and eat something nutritious. I don't want you skipping meals, even if you're not feeling well."

You nod, appreciating his reminder. "I promise, Charles. I'll make sure to eat when I need to. But for now, I think I'll focus on studying and getting some rest."

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "That sounds like a good plan. I'll leave you to it then, but remember to reach out if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," you reply softly, your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. "Thank you for taking care of me, Charles. I love you."

He smiles warmly, his eyes filled with affection. "I love you too, mignon. Rest well and take all the time you need. I'll see you soon." With that, Charles gives your hand a final squeeze and presses his lips to your forehead in a parting kiss before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the task at hand, determined to make the most of your day even if you’re feeling a bit down.

It’s not easy for Charles to focus on his driving that day, not easy at all. He can’t seem to focus on the track when you seem to occupy his mind and linger in his thoughts. The people around him notices the way he seems almost detached at the garage that day, and also noticing your absence, thankfully they accommodate him and his aloofness the best they can. He keeps an eye on his phone the entire time before he gets in the car – something he usually never does before a race just in case you call him in need of assistance. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind as he prepares for the race. He knows he needs to focus, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Concern and worry gnaw at him, making it difficult to fully immerse himself in the adrenaline of the race.

Before climbing into his car, he approaches his brother, who is thankfully standing nearby. He looks into Lorenzo's eyes and speaks in a hushed tone, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Lorenzo, sensing the urgency in Charles' voice, gives him a nod, his own concern mirrored in his eyes. “Of course, Charles. What do you need? Is everything alright?”

Charles takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “I need you to keep an eye on my phone, Y/N wasn’t feeling too good this morning, and i have a bad feeling about it.” He hands Lorenzo his phone, making sure to check one for one last time to see whether you’ve texted or called him, you haven’t.

Lorenzo's brows furrow with worry as he listens to Charles, but he understands the gravity of the situation and the significance of Charles' request. "Don't worry, Charles, I'll take care of it – and I'll let you know if anything happens. You focus on the race, and I'll make sure everything is handled."

With that assurance, Charles turns his attention back to the race ahead and quickly puts on his balaclava and helmet. He climbs into his car, adjusting his helmet and securing himself in the cockpit. The anticipation and excitement of the race surround him, but his mind remains consumed with worry for you as he tries to assure himself that you are fine and resting back at the hotel. The race begins, and Charles pushes the limits of his car, manoeuvring through the twists and turns of the track. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't fully immerse himself in the competitive spirit. Thoughts of you and your well-being linger, distracting him from the task at hand. His racing instincts seem dull, his reaction time slightly delayed, and he struggles to find his usual pace.

As the laps pass by, Charles notices that he's slipping further and further behind, unable to keep up with the leading pack. Frustration mounts within him, battling against his worry for you. The race that should have been a chance for him to shine becomes an arduous struggle to maintain his composure, as he struggles to keep up with the cars infront, the ones behind him seemingly passing him with ease and causing him to drop out of points. So despite his best efforts, Charles finishes the race with a disappointing result, far from his usual position on the podium. He steps out of the car, feeling a mix of exhaustion and disappointment washing over him. The familiar cheers from the crowd seem distant, overshadowed by his concern for you. His mind is occupied by imagining the worst as he gets out of his car, takes off his helmet and stumbles towards the team's garage. The once vibrant atmosphere now feels muted, as if the world around him has lost its importance. He can sense the curious glances and sympathetic looks from his fellow team members, but he can't bring himself to socialise with any of them.

His eyes hastily search for his brother, but Lorenzo is the one who finds him before he can spot him. Lorenzo's concerned gaze locks with Charles’, and he quickly makes his way toward him, his steps mirroring Charles’ urgency. Understanding the look in his brother’s eyes instantly, Charles asks, “What’s wrong? Is it Y/N? Is everything alright?”

Charles watches his brother expectantly as he places a comforting hand on his shoulder, making him want to slap his hand away, but the next words that come out of his mouth is enough to takes his breath away, “Carlos is on the phone with the hospital–”

“Hospital?” Charles interrupts Lorenzo, “Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire par l'hôpital qui t'a appelé?” What do you mean the hospital called you?

“Calm down, Charles, laisse-moi t'expliquer.” Lorenzo gives him a pointed look, and gently steer him towards his teammate’s cousin, “Y/N called me from the taxi, she said she was going to the hospital because she wasn’t feeling well,” he raises a hand to stop Charles from interrupting again, “she also told me that she’d call me once she got to the hospital but she didn’t, I’m guessing her phone died and the hospital called me instead. But my Spanish is non-existent and Carlos is talking to them, so for the love of God, calme-toi un peu.”

Charles's mind races with a mix of relief and anxiety upon hearing Lorenzo's explanation. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he listens to his brother's words. The realization that Y/N is at the hospital sinks in, bringing a wave of concern to the forefront of his thoughts. Nodding in acknowledgment, Charles tries to calm his racing heartbeat and focus on the information at hand. “My girlfriend is at a hospital in a country she’s not familiar with, how do you expect me to calm down?”

“Just wait for a moment, we’ll have more information when Carlos is done talking to the hospital-people.” Lorenzo reassures him, and it helps Charles to focus on the current issue at hand – learning the name of the hospital and finding his way there as fast as possible.

Taking Lorenzo's advice to heart, Charles tries to steady his racing thoughts and focus on the present. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and composed. The minutes feel like an eternity as they wait for Carlos to conclude the call. Finally, Carlos hangs up the phone and approaches Charles and Lorenzo, his expression grave but determined. "The hospital confirmed that Y/N arrived safely," Carlos begins, his voice steady. "They're currently conducting some tests to determine the cause of her discomfort. The initial assessment suggests it may be a severe case of food poisoning."

A certain degree of understanding and relief washes over Charles as he lets Carlos’ words sink in. He offers his teammate’s cousin a grateful look, “Thank you for your help, Carlos,” he nods his head in appreciation, “do you have the name of the hospital?”

Carlos returns Charles's grateful look with a reassuring smile and a nod, “It’s the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona, she’s a smart girl, Charles, it’s an international hospital so she shouldn’t have any problems communicating with the doctors.” He pats Charles’ shoulder when the latter gives him a confused look, “You weren’t exactly quiet, mate.”

Charles lets out a small chuckle, realizing that his worries may have been more apparent than he thought. He appreciates Carlos' attempt to lighten the mood and offers a grateful smile. "You're right, I probably wasn't the most composed person just now," he admits, "but I'm glad Y/N is in good hands at hospital and thank you for your help, I appreciate it."

“No need to thank me, I hope she’s doing okay.” The older man smiles and gives him a final nod as he makes his way towards his cousin.

“Charles,” one of the PR people starts as they make their way towards the duo, “you still have media–”

The look Charles gives the poor intern in return can only be described as a mix of exhaustion and frustration. He interrupts the PR person before they can finish their sentence. “Bill me.” He, then, turns to his brother as he shoots him an expectant look, “Can we go?”

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Charles hears his brother’s voice, which causes him to raise his eyebrows and receive in return, “you’re obviously too high on adrenaline right now, let me drive.”

Charles, recognizing his own state of mind, doesn't argue. He nods in agreement and takes a seat in the passenger side, grateful for his brother's support, but because he is Charles, he mumbles, “You better drive fast,” under his breath as he follows his brother out of the garage.

As the car navigates through the busy streets of Barcelona, Charles finds himself lost in his thoughts – he glances out the window, his eyes darting from building to building, as if searching for answers that lie beyond the glass. The tension in the air is palpable, the silence between the brothers punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of horns from other impatient drivers. He tries contacting the hospital once again, but it seems like luck is not on his side as the operator speaks to him solely in Spanish, which makes him reconsider what Carlos told him earlier. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona comes into view. Charles feels a surge of hope mixed with anxiety as Lorenzo skilfully manoeuvres the car into a parking spot. Charles is out of the car before Lorenzo even turns off the engine, which earns him a scolding from his brother, but he’s almost halfway through the walk to the entrance as he waves Lorenzo off.

As Charles approaches the entrance of the hospital, his pace quickens with a mix of urgency and concern. The automatic doors slide open, welcoming him into the bustling lobby. The sterile smell of disinfectant fills his nostrils, and the sound of footsteps echoes through the halls.

He makes his way to the reception desk, where a receptionist greets him with a warm smile, and (thankfully) speaks in English, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

Breathing heavily, Charles tries to gather his thoughts and speak clearly. “My girlfriend was admitted through ER earlier today, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me her room number and how she’s doing?”

The receptionist nods sympathetically. “I understand your concern, let me check the system for you.” She begins typing on her computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a few moments, she looks up at Charles. “I do see her in our system, but I don't have access to that information. You'll need to speak with someone from the emergency department.”

Frustration wells up within Charles, but he takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. "Can you at least direct me to the emergency department?"

The receptionist offers an understanding smile. "Of course. Head down this corridor and take the first right. You'll find the emergency department entrance on your left."

Thanking the receptionist, Charles follows her directions, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and worry. He walks briskly, determined to reach Y/N's side as quickly as possible. As he enters the emergency department, the sense of urgency intensifies – he watches the hustle and bustle of the hospital; how the medical staff rush by, attending to patients in need and people who are waiting to see their loved ones just like him. His legs aimlessly takes him to the nearest a nurse station and approaches a nurse who seems available. “Excuse me, Miss” he calls out, trying to catch her attention. The nurse turns to him with a professional yet compassionate gaze. “I'm looking for my girlfriend, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me where I can find her?”

“Let me check her records,” the nurse smiles at him, an attempt to calm him and goes through the papers on the chart in her hands. “Here she is, it seems that she was recently moved – she’s supposed be in room 376, it’s on the third level, at the end of the main hallway.”

Relief floods over Charles as he receives the information from the nurse. He manages a grateful smile and nods in appreciation. "Thank you so much. I'll head there right away."

After thanking the nurse, Charles makes his way towards the elevators, following the signs that lead him to the third level. As he steps into the elevator, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He makes sure he sends Lorenzo a text message to let him know where’s he’s headed, the ride to the third floor feels agonizingly slow, each passing floor adding to his impatience. When the elevator doors finally open, Charles steps out and finds himself in a long, well-lit hallway. He scans the room numbers, his eyes quickly landing on the sign indicating the direction of room 376. With determined strides, he makes his way down the hallway, passing by other patients' rooms and medical staff going about their duties.

Finally, he reaches room 376, and his breath catches in his throat. Taking a moment to steady himself, he gently pushes the door open, revealing a small but comforting space. Inside, he finds you lying in the hospital bed, an IV connected to your arm and one of your textbooks open on the bed beside you. He realises you’re asleep, however, as he watches you from afar. Seeing you lying there, Charles feels a mix of emotions overwhelm him—relief that you’re safe and being cared for, concern for your well-being, and a deep longing to be by your side. He approaches the bed with cautious steps, taking in your pale complexion and the weary lines etched on your face.

Gently, Charles pulls up a chair beside your bed and sits down, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest. He reaches out and lightly brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a tender smile gracing his lips as he watches you sleep. Gently, he reaches out and takes your hand in his, offering her a tender squeeze. "Hey," he whispers softly, not wanting to startle you. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

You stir slightly, your eyes fluttering open. A weak smile graces your lips as you recognise Charles. "Charles," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but filled with warmth. "You came."

Charles feels a surge relief wash over him, he leans in closer, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Of course, I came, I'll always be here for you, chérie. What happened? How are you feeling?"

“I’m better now,” your voice comes off hoarse, and it makes Charles cringe inwardly, “I just wanted to come to the hospital because i kept throwing up and thought I had all the signs of food poisoning – but, honey, what are you wearing?”

Charles glances down at his attire, realizing he's still in his racing gear. “I didn’t have time to change,” he explains, his head tilted to the side as he gives you a strict look, “I should have just stayed with you.”

“You had a race, Charles,” your eyes widen in recognition as you remember the race. “Oh my god, how was it? Did you–”

“The race doesn’t matter, Y/N.” Charles interrupts, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I wish you wouldn’t try to be so independent all the time.”

He watches as your lips form a pout, your voice coming off more vulnerable than before as you ask, “What?”

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this sick? I could have been here for you."

You give him a guilty look, the pout on your lips becoming deeper. "I didn't want to worry you, Charles. I thought I could handle it on my own."

His frustration melts away as he takes in your weakened state. He moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "You don't have to handle everything on your own, love. I'm here for you, always. I would have been by your side if you had just let me. I should have been there with you today, not at some race when you were puking your guts out.” He pauses, his thumb caressing the back of your cheek soothingly. “I know you value your independence, and I admire that about you. But sometimes, it's okay to lean on others, especially when you're going through tough times. You don't have to carry everything on your own.”

You listen to Charles's words, and a mixture of emotions swirl within you. His concern and care touch your heart, but you also understand the frustration he expresses. With a soft sigh, you squeeze his hand gently. You shift slightly in the bed, wincing at the discomfort. "Being independent has been a part of me for so long, and it's hard to let go of that mindset completely. But I'm learning, slowly, to find a balance, and I'm learning to lean on you when I need to and to share my burdens with you." You give him the softest smile you can muster, “I promise I’ll try to be better, darling.”

His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "You don't have to apologize, mignon. I understand why you wanted me to race, but your health and well-being will always be my priority. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to face things alone. We're a team, remember?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we are, and I’m sorry for worrying you, darling." You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, and with a soft sigh, you begin speaking again. "I promise that I’ll lean on you more and remember that we’re a team.”

Charles leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "That's all I ask, love. Just remember that you have me, and I'll always be here for you, okay? I love you."

As you feel his lips on your forehead, a sense of comfort and love washes over you. You gaze into his eyes, filled with gratitude and affection. "I love you too, Charles," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I push you away. I'm so grateful to have you by my side."

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

[pricesbeltbuckle]

https://www.tumblr.com/honestlyhiswife/738465618711412736

This! This as well!! Please!

I know I'm just spamming your asks now.

Forgive me. 😭😭

"Just a one-night stand? Really?" - Ghost/Price

I’m SOOO happy people are spamming my inbox please don’t apologize and I am actually sorry the other owner of this acc with me is swamped with other irl stuff so I’m trying to get to as many as I can <3 I think you wanted Ghost for this but this also suits Price I think!!

Pairing: Ghost x GN! Reader/ Price x Gn! Reader MDNI

Warnings: Mentions of one night stand, other than that fluff.

Price:

You woke up with the most horrific pounding headache and the light from the window did not help. And then you took a good look around... This is NOT your room, it was some random guy's room and you scanned it carefully trying to recall what happened the night before but all you remember is getting really wasted.

You checked your phone and saw a text message from your friend asking if you were okay but you didn’t have the energy to respond and apparently not the muscle to either seeing as you were tangled up in this guy's arms. 

You slowly started to try and get up as you slipped out of his arms and walked to put your shoes and jacket on. He started to stir awake and turned to face you.

“We didn’t do anything...Right?” You asked him as You got a good look at his face and Your jaw dropped. He was surely handsome but also seemed like he was older than you.

“Mm well, you did ride me for a while...Otherwise, no nothing else, come back to bed.” He grumbled at you as he opened his arms for you to lay in. “Sir, I don’t even know you-” “You knew me well enough to ride me just come lay down, please. I’ll explain everything later.” He then sat up a little and ended up pulling off your coat as you slipped your shoes off. 

“Oh- okay well I guess it couldn’t hurt I have nowhere to be.” You said softly to him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Mhm..I don’t want this to just be a one-night thing so we can talk when I fully wake up.” you were shocked to hear that from a man you had just met but you decided not to argue about it and just went back to sleep with him.

Ghost:

You woke up with a slight pain in your legs and a little headache, the room seemingly dark. You checked your phone to see it was 9:12 AM but the room you were in had black curtains so no sun was peeking into the room...Wait…This isn’t your room?

You silently panicked as you turned around to see a broad man's chest in your face and you jumped back a little. “Shit.” You thought to yourself as you tried slipping out of his arms he just clanged tighter as you looked up at him.

“If you’re gonna ask, yes we did have sex. Now stop moving, I'm just trying to cuddle you.” “Sir-?” “We can talk later can’t you just enjoy the moment, cause you seemed to enjoy a whole lot last night..” He interrupted and it shut you up quickly as you looked up to see who the mysterious man telling you this was.

WOW. He looked to have blonde hair and scars on his face with a little face stubble. He was handsome and oddly had a comforting look on his face for a man You had randomly hooked up with. You tried to move up more but your legs were so sore you winced in a bit of pain.

“Ow..” “Hm? Oh. Here let me massage your legs.” He slowly raised you up so he could reach your legs as his calloused hands massaged your soft and tender skin. You felt a lot better no doubt.

“We’re definitely not keeping this as a one-night stand, you’re far beyond too pretty for me to try and let go of.” “I- okay I don’t know what to say, what's even your name-?” “Shh, just let me take care of you, it’s Simon. We’ll talk later.”

AHHH I LOVED WRITING THIS!! Def gonna try and write some more as I'm also in a different state right now but I'm not too busy so I could probably write a lot more, please send in any requests <3!!

#cod x reader #john price x reader #smut prompts #cod smut #cod mw2 #captain price #cod #call of duty #mw2 #john price #price #price x reader #price cod #price mw2 #modern warfare 2 #mw3 #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #x reader #gn reader #gn y/n #gn s/o #fluff #smut #imagine

[howyouloveyourdragon]

Hi there, I absolutely adore you and love your writing and I'm excited that you're writing for jace now.

If it's okay, could I please request the prompts sleepy - number 44.

Have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening 💖💖

hi there! thank you so much, you have no idea how sweet you are for sending such a polite ask, and for your prompt “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” by thelonelyempath!

i definitely put you up high on my priority list for being so kind lol your message made my day

i also just really enjoyed writing this, it got me back into my groove.

have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening yourself and here you go, please let me know if you enjoy it! <3

No Rest For The Dragons

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x reader Setting: During The Dance of The Dragons Summary: All is quiet but no sense of peace can be caught between your fingertips, not even at night and so it is difficult to find sleep. Not until you win the war and crown your prince victorious...Your betrothed, Jacaerys, seems to have other priorities. Warnings: Brief talk of war dividers by: saradika wordcount: 1,412 

A yawn tumbled past your lips with ease and a quiet whine quickly followed. Jacaerys Velaryon had never found anything more sweet in his entire existence but he wouldn’t tell you that…not yet at least. His eyes flickered over your sleepy face, the squished cheeks and rumbled hair. It made his heart throb, a desperation took hold to tighten his chest and squeeze. Slowly, he tucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. He could barely contain himself from cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss to those lips. His sleeping beauty…his beautiful briar…he would need to bring you a rose soon just for the sake of it because he never did think there was a world in which you were not his Aurora. Some universe in which he didn’t long for you. The backs of his fingers carefully caressed your face. The skin was so soft–practically begging for him to lay upon his gentle pecks of devotion–and yet he restrained himself. You may be his betrothed but you are not yet his wife. He must recall that, if he is to keep your honour…A grunt peeked through his teeth at the thought. The thought that anybody could see you as anything less than a guide of honour and duty as you fought at his side, on his very dragon with a bow and arrow within your hands. A quiver danced along the prince’s bones. He may think you to be beautiful in any state but he would gladly gift upon you anything you so much as dreamed or desired if you were to allow that to be his final sight. His last. The sight of you upon Vermax and casting down the enemy. 

A smile flittered his lips as you stirred and stretched in his lap. “No, no go back to sleep.” He cooed, brushing back your hair and placing a wet flannel at your forehead. You were in your gentlest state this eve. You fended off his hand like a weak squirrel to reluctant avail. “Rest my love. You must rest.” The whine escapes the seam of your mouth before you can escape it. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You practically taunt with your eyelids finally parting to peer up at him. As much as he wants to scoff and argue, he cannot help but smile down at the soft albeit exhausted face. Amusement laces his face but he lets his brow pinch. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to allow that.” You send a pointed look his way. “You would deny your wife?” “You would deny your prince?” He counters with playfulness and yet something excites him about the way ‘wife’ leaves your lips. How smoothly it goes…It only reminds him of how long he has deprived himself of kissing them. Of feeling the sweet flutter of lightning that would passes over your skin. His hand would dance throughout your hair, he was sure of it, sure that one the day of your wedding, he would summon all the strength he had been willing himself to retain and finally let go. He would deny himself for centuries if it meant you would let him bind himself to you for eternity–if you would let him vow until his throat dried up. If they were not to be his final words, he would repeat them until they were destined. He would be yours, he was sure of it. He does not say this of course as you sigh with a pointed stare. 

It was the determination in your gaze that he adored above all. That very crinkle in your brow that arose whenever anybody were to question you. His throat bobs as he recalls how his hand would slide along to the small of your back–support from the true prince and heir of the iron throne–delighting as you took the lead. Happy to await your debates cease as you charged your mouth at any who claimed your position unfit. None of these men knew the battlefield as you did. None of these men had studied the art so intensively for this very moment. None of these men would protect him like you did, he was sure of it. And certainly none of them had helped teach him the ways of battle so that he could protect his own hide should something go askew. Now as he watches you, he lets his eyes wander along the small scars upon both your hands at such teachings. Your childhood together had been an entertaining ordeal; scars of book pages, scars of dragon mishaps, scars of blades…He wouldn’t trade those tiny indents for the world. He would not even trade for the oncoming victory of his mother’s crown. He would not. 

Instead, Jacaerys’ breath hitches but he does not complain at your defiance. He welcomes it. “My darling, you must rest if you are so determined to fight beside me.” His words are teasing but the plummet of hardness cannot be unheard. He had always been serious. “I cannot allow myself the sight of injury should you–” His throat bobs but you hardly change your mind. “It could cause injury to you should I not properly plan our route.” The retort jumps from your tongue and he can tell this has been boiling for some time now, that the bubbles were ever-present. You’ve been locking this inside your mind for too long now. Far too long. His curled fingers glide down your cheek before stopping at your chin. He lifts it as delicately as he would a broken leaf and gazes sweetly into your eyes. “You can do this well rested. We have time.” “But what if–” “We have time.” He reassures you with the confidence of his ancestor, King Jaehaerys The Wise. Your shoulders slump reluctantly. You should trust him, you know you should–you are so very tired but the night is still relatively young and the troupes must still be waiting outside for you. Jace catches as your eyes track the opening of the tent and he is quick to soften you. “I told them we would resume our meetings tomorrow. You will not miss a thing, my sweet. I swear it to you.” His gentle kiss presses to your temple–one of the few acceptable places he can express such affections. When he pulls himself back, he lingers. Tentative, he waits. His eyes flicker to yours with unabashed uncertainty. “But first you must swear to me that you will rest.” Heat floods your cheeks but you have never shied away from eye contact before and you refuse to do it now. His eyes close and his breath fans over your lips. “Swear it to me.” He repeats through the air of a whisper. “I swear it.” You utter just as quietly, curling your palm around his hand and pressing a long, warm kiss to the knuckles. Jacaerys would be lying if he said that it was not a relief. He could not remember the last night you slept in where you did not awaken suddenly and draft a new strategy. That you did not recall a new route. One that needed your immediate and unrestrained attention. 

And so as the night calls out for you, your soon-husband’s arms slip around you and one loops beneath your legs until he can haul you against him. His breath stutters as he inhales the scent of your hair. His lashes flutter against one another and he takes a few steady steps through the tent. Loving each other had taken its time. It had taken screaming arguments, jealousy, rekindling…but it had also taken laughter and warmth and kindness. Kindness that neither of you thought to be deserved. It had taken the darkest eves and the most golden mornings. He settles you on the plush mattress this night, and brushes back the uncomfortable strands of hair that cling to your skin. Your neck, your face, even the petals of your lips. He cannot blame them for craving your closeness. He hesitates as you close your eyes and your back squirms into place. For only one moment more, he lets himself take in a portrait of your rest. Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, Son of Rhaenyra and future King of the Seven Kingdoms accepts that he craves for nothing but your warmth. He intends to keep you as safe as this every eve, every nightfall. 

One sleepless night after the next, he shall be your rest. 

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys strong #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #jacaerys velaryon fluff #jacaerys fic #jacaerys imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x you #jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon x fem reader #jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #requests #jacaerys request #jacaerys requests #jacaerys velaryon request #prompt request

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [5].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, someone cries again, mentions of bullying, mentions of sex. WORD COUNT. 3.9k

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi

NOTE. this is the soobin chapter. before anyone says anything, i also used to be a loser in high school so i am very qualified to write about this. anyway, please let me kmow what you think so far! ty for reading!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 5 — staring contest of death.

SOOBIN HAS ENCOUNTERED A PROBLEM. It’s quite a big problem— one that completely ruined his summer morning routine that usually starts at one in the afternoon. But it’s already 2 p.m. right now and he’s still laying on his bed, half of his head peeking out of the blanket as his eyes run over the text he received this morning over and over again from a group chat that’s been dead for a good three years. 

[Shin Jaeyul: hey class of 20XX! met up with jindo and the rest the other day and we thought it would be great if we can all get together again! hope you’ll all be available for the reunion. i’ll send the details after this message but it’s gonna be held at seonghee’s family’s hotel so feel free to bring a plus one lol.]

[Shin Jaeyul: What? ANSAN HS BATCH 20XX REUNION. When? This Saturday, 6:00pm. Where? Chatoyer Hotel, Sapphire Ballroom Function Hall

“Just don’t go, man. It’s not like your attendance is graded.”

When Soobin finally gets the energy to come downstairs to eat, he shows the text to Beomgyu for a second opinion. They’re eating yesterday’s leftovers on the patio outside the dining room. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the boys to congregate on the lounge chairs.

“But a reunion sounds fun!” Jake throws in his opinion. “I met up with my high school buddies at Crown Towers when I went to Melbourne the other day.”

“They weren’t your buddies. They invited you so you can pay for all their drinks and ditch you,” Heeseung tells him.

“Hey, Matthew was there and he was glad to see me.”

“Matthew borrowed eight hundred dollars from you last month and never paid back.”

Jake simply shrugs and snatches a cold slice of pizza from the table. Soobin gives him a look of remorse. “Anyway,” Jay jumps in. “Hyung, you should go if you want to and don’t go if you don’t want to. What do you want to do?”

Honestly, if Soobin can help it, he’d never want to see anyone from his old school ever again. And he’d rather stay at home and watch the latest episode of JJK on Saturday night (and every other night, for that matter). “But...it’s kinda rude if I don’t reply, right?” is what’s holding him back. The group chat has been buzzing every minute, messages of ‘see you there’s’ and ‘I’m so excited’s’ popping up one after the other. Only a few others including him haven’t replied yet. “What excuse should I make?”

“Tell them you have a family reunion to attend,” Sunghoon suggests.

“That’s lame. They’re gonna make fun of him,” Beomgyu scrunches his nose. Sunghoon defends with “what’s so wrong with a family reunion?!” but Soobin is inclined to believe that Beomgyu would be right. He didn’t exactly have a pleasant high school experience.

It’s not that he was actively bullied, or anything. He just didn’t have a lot of friends. And not a lot wanted to be his friend save for the members of the manga club he was in— but that didn’t really contribute to his position in the adolescent food chain. It’s not like he was sociable, either. He still isn’t. He was just lucky enough to get adopted by Beomgyu and managed to get along with the rest of the guys after a good two years of living here.

“Oh, then dude, you have to go!” Beomgyu exclaims. “If you don’t go they’re just gonna talk shit about you still being a loser.”

“I am a loser, though?” he says. 

“Yeah, but you’re tall and good looking and hot and that’s enough to get them to shut the fuck up if you show up and dip after thirty minutes. You know what, give me your phone. I’ll handle this.”

“No, wait—”

Beomgyu snatches the phone from his hands and plops down on the chair right across from him, the other four quickly running over and looking over his shoulders. Soobin’s heart races. This doesn’t seem like a good idea. He is right. It only takes a second before things spiral into disaster.

“Don’t say that. You gotta sound cooler.”

“Dude, that’s gonna get him bullied. Let me do it—”

“Give it to me!”

“You’re all useless, let me take over!”

“Wait, let me make one last revision—”

“No! What are you all doing?!”

When Soobin finally manages to steal his phone back, he nearly passes out when he reads the message he— his friends— just sent to the group chat.

[Count me in. Do I have to wire double the money if I bring my girlfriend? Nevermind, I’ll just send thrice the amount. Thanks :)]

Horror washes over his face. “I added the smiley face,” Jake proudly announces. Holy fuck, he wants to crawl back into his bed and never wake up. 

“Who sent that I’ll be bringing my girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend! Why did you say I’ll be bringing my girlfriend?!”

His phone vibrates mid-fit and he’s greeted by a reply saying that they’re so happy he’s coming and they can’t wait to see him again. Soobin is not happy nor is he excited. “We can just get you one,” Beomgyu says, as a matter-of-fact, as if you can just purchase a significant other from a gas station vending machine. His face wrinkles in distress. “When’s the reunion again? Saturday? Jakey, do you have any rich heiresses that can pretend to be Soobin hyung’s fake girlfriend for a night?”

“I’ll call Mirae noona, but hyung, are you alright alright with someone fifteen years old—”

Soobin winces. “Please don’t call her.”

“I can try asking Hina,” says Jay. “I don’t know if she has me unblocked yet, though.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes at him. “Isn’t she your ex?”

“Jay dated someone?” Sunghoon gives Jay a mildly offended grimace. “The fuck? Why don’t I know this?”

“He’s always dating someone. But he also gets dumped after three days so I’m not sure if they even count.”

Before they could further into Jay’s questionable dating history, the conversation gets cut short by a groan from Beomgyu. “Wait. We literally have a girl living with us right now.” His words send a signal into all their ears. It takes a moment for it to settle, and when it does, it’s like a thinly stretched rope snaps in half in the air.

Oh.

Right.

You.

“Are—are you sure about that?” Sunghoon is the first to crack the tension-filled silence. “Don’t we have other options?”

Soobin hears furtive whispering and nodding from Jake that somehow involves your name and the phrase “that’s right, she’s a girl, yes,” but chooses to ignore it and instead starts dreading the near and impending future. “It’d be better if it’s someone Soobin hyung already knows,” Beomgyu replies. “Hyung, what do you think?”

He thinks this is insane and bonkers and absolutely fucking impossible to pull off because he can’t even look you in the eye without sweating his skin off. How in the fuck he supposed to fake date you? To stand next to you? To call you with so much affection in front of numerous people he finds extremely uncomfortable to be with? To look at you? To h—

Oh god. He doesn’t have to hold your hand, does he?

“Hey, I don’t think this is fair. That’d mean Soobin hyung will technically—”

“This won’t count towards the bet,” Beomgyu says, then looks at a now red-faced Soobin. “You don’t mind right?”

Shit, he’d have to, right? But he can’t even look at you without his palms leaking like a faucet and stuttering like a broken machine. This is insane. He can’t do this. He can’t and won’t do this or else he’d actually have a heart attack and die.

“Hyung?”

“Is— is this all really necessary?” he finally sputters out.

They all look at him. “But we already sent the message.”

Right. They did. Soobin’s face falls defeated and he sinks back into the chair. “I’ll go grab her,” Beomgyu announces, and the gazes shift from him to their friend who has now risen from his seat and is walking back into the house because since when was he close enough with you to do that? You two usually bicker and argue and Soobin has seen the murderous intent in your eyes whenever Beomgyu tries to provoke you. Sure, the amount of daily arguments has definitely died down as of late and it’s mostly one-sided now, but if there’s anyone close enough to disturb your weekend for something stupid, it’d be Jake.

But they say nothing about it and watch as Beomgyu disappears inside and comes back out a minute later with you in tow, pulling you into the patio by the arm you as you grumble and groan, begrudgingly forcing your legs to follow him. “Seriously, what do you want? I was having a nice nap, you bastard. Where are you taking me? Hey, answer me. Are you still mad about the—” 

When you finally notice the rest of their presence, you stop complaining.

“What’s this? Are you having a cult meeting?”

Jake greets you with a smile. “Take a seat! We’ll explain everything.”

It’s almost impossible to glean anything coherent when there are five-ish boys talking at the same time, but you seem fine, nodding along to whatever Beomgyu and Jay are currently rambling into both of your years. Soobin grows increasingly worried by the second. “I’m so sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He hopes you don’t want to do this. Knowing how you practically terrorized him a few weeks ago for accidentally taking a bite out of your ice cream, you probably didn’t want to deal with him either. Yes. This is good. Soobin can just ignore the group chat and ghost his old classmates on the day of the event, so this is—

“I’m down,” you finally say. 

—what?

“You’re— you’re down?” he stutters out. He must have heard wrong, obviously. Haha, there’s no way you would—

“Yup. It’s this Saturday, right? I’m pretty sure I’ll be free, so it’s cool.”

Well, shit.

He’s fucked.

“Why do I feel like you’ve done something like this before?” Beomgyu shoots you a glare of suspicion. You grin. “Of fucking course you have.”

“Sunoo paid me a pretty convincing fee for me to sit pretty at his sister’s wedding,” you explain before shifting your gaze to Soobin, a smile playing on your lips. His fingernails dig into his palms. “Obviously for Soobin, I’ll do it for free. But we have a problem.”

His eyes flit away not even a second after, chest tightening on the spot.

“Yeah. I think we need to work on that.”

Thus begins the series of daily staring contests between the both of you for the next four days until Saturday. It scares the shit out of him when you bang on his door at random times of the day just to torment him with your very existence. Soobin knows you’re doing this to help him. He knows, he really does, but he’s not very good at maintaining eye contact without his heart racing at an unhealthy rate and without sweating profusely. His longest record has been ten and a half seconds before his face explodes like a volcano.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Soobin’s muffled voice is weak, red face buried into his palms as you both sit cross-legged on his mattress after another failed staring contest. The rows and rows of anime figurines he has displayed next to his bed are all staring at him in disgusting judgment. It’s now Friday. The reunion is tomorrow, and he can’t even look at you— much less pretend like you’ve been dating for the past six fucking months.

“No! You can do it, Soobin! I believe in you! Let’s try one more time, okay?”

You grab his hands, pulling them away from his face and they settle on his soft blankets, yours over his, and he starts silently freaking out because shit— holy shit, you’re squeezing his knuckles. It’s barely any pressure, but he feels it shooting into his throat like a silver snake choking him with ten pints of venom and that’s not even the worst part because you’ve decided to start looking him in the eye again. 

He rasps out a little noise and tilts his head down to the right. You do the same. He shifts his gaze to the left. You do the fucking same, chasing after his eyes relentlessly like a god damned predator on the hunt and he can feel his palms sweating pathetically into his blanket while you’re still locking them in place.

“Okay,” you breathe out, leaning back and he finally feels the blood circulating into his fingers. “What if we follow Jay’s suggestion instead and have you wear sunglasses the entire time?”

Honestly, it’s about time you gave up on him. 

Your eyebrows are scrunched, deep in thought. Soobin can look at you right now because you’re spacing out and not attacking him with the depth of your stare. He’s not used to attention in general, so something about your pretty eyes with pretty eyelashes and prettily focused expression looking directly at him just renders him completely useless. It’s fine when you’re absentmindedly looking at the posters on his wall, still in the midst of weighing your options. It’s fine because you aren’t focused on him.

“But the event is indoors and in the evening, so that won’t make a lot of sense.” And his composure immediately topples down when you flit your gaze back at him. His breath hitches in his throat. “Soobin, do you have any other ideas?”

He grabs the nearest pillow and squeezes it to his chest. “Do— do we have to do this? Can’t we just show up and leave after ten minutes?” Better yet, he just doesn’t show up at all. But you’ve been putting in so much effort these past few days, so he doesn’t want to cancel out of nowhere.

You frown. “Eye contact is the first step to selling that we’re a real couple! Even if we stay for only ten minutes, they’ll get suspicious if you can’t even look at me,” you tell him. “Soobin, let’s keep trying. C’mon.” 

Soobin is trying. He really is trying his best but one more round and he feels he might actually rupture a brain vessel. “Alright,” you exhale. “Nevermind. We’ll handle it somehow. I’ll head back to my room now so you can rest up. See you tomorrow.”

It takes no time for you to get off his bed and start walking to his door. His stomach sinks, watching your back as you reach out for the doorknob and Soobin feels like he had just disappointed you. 

He moves before his mind can think. Before he knows it, he’s out of the bed and is holding your wrist and pulling your hand away from the door. 

You look at him. He looks at you, drenched in the color of panic and confusion and at the same time a shade of earnest emotion. It stays like this for a good couple of seconds, until your lips curl into a smile and your free arm reaches up to his head, fingers dipping into his hair for a light pat.

“Thirty seconds. Good job. See you tomorrow.”

Now you completely understand why Soobin didn’t want to attend this dumpfest.

The hotel function room is fancy. Truly fancy. But the elegant crystal interiors and decor can’t hide the scent of pretentious obnoxiousness in the air, and the music siphoning through the speakers can’t drown out the sound of shit and crap and trash being exchanged between alleged old friends and classmates. It’s gross. The only saving grace of the night is the wine you’re swirling in your hand, regulating your slowly thinning patience at the scene before you.

“Soobin, buddy! Oh man, I didn’t think you’d make it!”

Here we go again. This is the what— fourth, fifth person? Soobin greets number five with less enthusiasm than the newcomer. He’s already worn out, poor boy. You prepare to intervene when you get an opening.

“Jaeyul,” Soobin says. “Hi.”

“It’s been a while, aye? You look great, man! What’s your glow up secret? You gotta tell men dude.”

Another patronizing comment from a mediocre looking male at best. They’re really lucky Soobin is an angel. You can see the discomfort in his smile when the Jae-something bastard hooks him by the neck, tugging your beanpole down because he’s at least four inches taller than his snotty ex-classmate. He looks even more uncomfortable than the time he got an unsolicited view of your red underwear. If it were you, you would’ve already kneed him in the balls to shut up his endlessly chattering mouth.

The guy’s gaze finally lands on you, tucked quietly behind Soobin’s shoulder. Took him long enough, honestly. You’ve been giving him the nastiest stare you can muster for the past five minutes, it’s honestly amazing that he only noticed now. “Who’s this?” he asks. Now, he’s just blatantly checking out someone else’s (fake) girlfriend. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to slip out.

Soobin straightens, ready to repeat the script he’s been cycling through since the beginning of the night. “O-oh, this— this is—” But he seems to be a lot more nervous now. You decide to take the reins and give him a break.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you give Jae-whatever a smile, stepping forward to hold onto Soobin’s arm, who in return flinches at your touch. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your whole reunion. It’s just that I can’t bear to be apart from my Soobin for too long, you know?”

You’re hoping that your sickeningly sweet tone disgusts the living hell out of him and drives him away, but for some reason he lacks the social awareness to do that. “No, not at all. In fact, completely understand. I’m a taken man myself, you know?” That makes this situation a million times worse. He momentarily shifts away from you and directs his next words to Soobin. “Do you remember Bitna? We started seeing each other a few months ago.”

You can feel him stiffen next to you. “Congrats. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Didn’t you used to have a crush on her? I remember you’d give her chocolates every valentine’s—”

The twitch in his grin doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Alright, enough of this bullshit. You’re done humoring this bastard.

“Oh, sorry!” he turns to you again. “That was tactless of me, oh no. I apologize.”

You press your lips together, still smiling. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really paying attention to the bullshit you’ve been tirelessly spouting. I was wondering when you’d shut your trap and finally fuck off.”

Soobin snaps his head towards you, eyes wide in alarm. His dear old friend looks equally shocked. You hum and maintain your expression, pressing yourself closer to Soobin. “Is Bitna the one looking at us right now? Oh dear.” Shot in the dark, but you hit the mark anyway. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse us. My boyfriend and I will be heading back to our suite now to have absolutely brain-shattering, mind-numbing sex for the rest of the night that you—from the looks of your girlfriend over there— won’t be having for the rest of the week if you’re lucky enough to salvage your relationship. It was nice meeting you!”

You can see Bitna stomping her way over to her boyfriend, carrying a palpable dark force in her wake, so you quickly tug Soobin away by the hand and make your quick exit out the function room and into the elevator. You’re aware of how Soobin is currently looking at you like you’re insane as you press on the lowermost button on the panel. His eyes are practically drilling into the side of your face.

“This— this isn’t the way to our room.”

“I know,” you reply, watching as the doors close in front of you. Jay booked a room to sell your whole schtick a little further, but looks like you won’t be able to use it. “We’re not going to our room. That is unless you actually want to follow through with what I said earlier?”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already drenched in pink. You hold back a laugh. They make it so easy for you to mess with them. “I’m joking. I doubt you’d want to spend a minute longer here, so let’s just dip. These clothes are getting stuffy.”

Somehow you found yourselves at the 7-Eleven outside your subdivision, overdressed and sharing a pint of ice cream and two beers under the empty store’s fluorescent lights. You stuff a spoonful into your mouth and let your gaze linger on him for a while. Soobin has his head down, quietly staring at the top of his beer can. With a face like that, you think he’d be more confident and outspoken, but it’s almost funny how he’s trying to scrunch up his large frame in the tiny seat in front of you.

Look, you’re simply tapping an index finger on the back of his hand and he immediately flinches and draws it back. He’s so shy, so timid that you can’t help but grow soft on him.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says since you left the hotel.

You rest your cheek against your palm. “For what?”

“I mean, it’s just that— you spent the past four days making sure I didn’t mess up our whole act, but I messed it up anyway and we ended up leaving early. I’m sorry for wasting all your time and effort like that. I’m—I’m really sorry for being so hopeless and pathetic and—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you cut him off. “If there’s anyone that’s pathetic, it’s that Jaeyun? No, Jaeyun is Jake. It’s that Jae-something bastard who’s pathetic. I mean, was he not loved enough as a child? Does he have a disease that makes everything that comes out of his mouth unrecyclable trash? Anyway, if anything, it should be me and the rest of the boys apologizing for forcing you into this. I’ll help you guilt trip them later when we get—”

You stop. You stop because you notice how his eyes are getting a little red, and how they’re getting a little glassy, and how he’s nipping at his bottom lip that you’re afraid it might start bleeding.

“Oh. Oh no. Soobin, please don’t cry.”

And he starts crying. Well, fuck.

You hastily get out of your seat and plop down right next to him, letting his head drop down to your shoulder. He continues sniffling as you switch between rubbing his back and giving him pats on the head, staring blankly at the empty aisles because the last thing you expected to do today is comfort a grown man in a dingy convenience store while you’re in high heels and a strappy dress.

“Let’s have a movie marathon with the boys when we get back, okay?”

At least you’ve gotten better at consoling people. It seems like a useful skill to have for the rest of your stay.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #enhypen x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #choi soobin scenarios #soobin scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #enhypen scenarios #txt scenarios #enha scenarios

[starlight-library]

Opposites attract | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x technical theater!y/n (they/them)

summary: you visit max after a long tech weekend, which is in time for the miami gp

warnings: fluff, google translated dutch (so sorry), me geeking out about my profession, maybe accidental OOC??, suggestive

a/n: reader is AFAB gender neutral! request open! sorry in advance cause there's no proofreading, im dying like a man. also first time writing don’t kill me ❤️

wc: 1.3K

Tech was the best and worst time of the year. The best time since the actors, director, crew, and creative all come together to finally put the show together. The best time because the show is officially handed over to the stage manager. It was also the worst time because of such long hours, lots of hold, and the stage manager’s sanity is holding on by a thread.

The first day wasn’t so bad. You arrived at the theater at 8am. You found your table and laid everything out. Your ASM and PA, your life line and team members, made sure everything else was set up. The other technicians arrived at 9am as they stated on the schedule and finally actors arrived at 10am. You had everyone in a circle introducing themselves to the new group: name, pronouns, role, fun fact. Then the director stated you guys would be going from top of the show and this was your time and your rehearsal. It was long but quick.

The second and third day were killer though. It was painfully slow as techs were. You spend most of your day here. Stage managers were the first ones in and last ones out and this tech was a 10 out of 12 (breaks for lunch, obviously, but you spend literally 12 hours in a dark theater just stopping and going while they add lights, sound, props, costumes, etc.) What’s worse is because you’re running the show you have to stay on top of everything, unless an emergency of course.

That includes not being able to really talk to your boyfriend.

You and Max were very keen on communicating and checking in since both your jobs were so demanding. Sometimes you guys could talk for hours while others it was a simple ‘hi dear, hope you have a good day’ ‘hi schatje, hope you’re sleeping well’ but when you were in tech it was a miracle if you sent a good morning text to inform him you were alive.

It’s around one am when you arrive back to the housing provided by the theater. By the time you get ready for bed it’s one thirty. You’re exhausted and your body is so desperately craving the sleep it’s been lacking but you will yourself to check your phone.

10 am:

Good morning, schatje ❤️. I hope you have a good day at tech today.

12pm:

Make sure you eat something today, please. I know how busy things can get sometimes. I’ll send you money to eat. I cannot believe the theater isn’t providing food for you or the crew. I can call them and give them a piece of my mind.

3pm:

Why did tech have to land on this weekend? It’s different with you not here. Are you watching at least?

…you know I can pay for you. You don’t have to work if you don’t want.

5pm:

Practice was okay. The random rain shower made things interesting for sure. Not my best time but I managed.

I miss you.

10pm:

I love you Schatje. I’m going to head to bed. Wish you were here with me. ❤️

Your heart pulls reading the messages. You quickly type out a few replies to Max:

Hi darling, I’m okay Yes, I made sure I ate today. No you don’t have to call the theater. It’s fine.

That’s called a sugar baby, darling. Not that I wouldn’t mind… I miss you too. I wish tech was over already so we could talk more :(

Well that’s Florida for you. But I’m sorry. I bet you still did amazing. I love you too. I’ll talk to you soon love, sleep well ❤️

You put your phone down after and let yourself drift off to sleep.

—————————————

“Alright Jonathan, I’ll talk to you later…bye now.”

Pocketing your phone when the conversation ends, you shuffle around your room as you get dressed. You’re thankful practice and qualifiers are late in the day giving you the extra sleep you need. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you do a spin. Sneakers, skirt, and one of the many fan designed Red Bull shirts you bought. This one was based off of Taylor’s Swift ‘Eras Tour’ but instead had pictures of your boyfriend and said ‘Verstappen’ instead. Grabbing your sunglasses, bag, and paddock pass you triple checked everything before heading off on your adventure.

Arriving to the paddock you easily scan in and navigate your way through. You keep your head down eyes glued to your phone and nobody really bats an eye to you. Thank god. You didn’t want the surprise to be ruined. Your eyes scan before you find the Red Bull garage. You slow your steps as you scan the garage not spying your boyfriend. A frown pulls to your lips as you step in, sunglasses being pushed to rest on the top of your head as you find Christian.

“Christian,” you call out with a smile as the principal turns. You make your way over and give him a quick hug.

“Oh Y/N,” Christian says and you see relief wash over him, “thank god you’re here. Max has been a fucking terror so far.” The remark makes you laugh, “I’m serious! He’s been extra grumpy since we arrived. I had to threaten to ban you from the garage to get him to tone it down. Handle him. Please.”

“I will when I find out exactly where he is.”

“Driver’s room.”

“Thank you. Promise he’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

“He better!” You hear Christian call out as you leave the garage. It does not take you long to find Max’s room and you know on the door.

You hear some shuffling and swearing in Dutch before the door swings open. You’re met with a “what?” and a scowl which causes you to smile brightly. “Fancy seeing you here,” you tease and watch Max’s scowl fall as it takes him a moment to process before you’re yanked forward.

You crash into his chest and laughs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in the crook of his neck as he hugs you tightly. He pulls away as he cups your face.

“I—schatje! What are you here? I thought you were working all weekend?”

“Between rehearsal and tech, we reached 42 hours. Jonathan said it wasn’t worth calling equity up to try and get overtime. So, he gave us the weekend off,” you beam and burst into laughter as he smothers your face in kisses, smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you’ve been very grumpy these past few days,” you remark through giggles.

“I have,” he replies bluntly, “you’ve been so busy and this Grand Prix has been testing my patience,” it’s his turn to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Your eyes flutter close and you let a breathy sigh escape feeling his lips leave feathery kisses along your neck.

“Max..”

“Missed you,” Max mumbled through kisses as he works his way up your neck to your jaw, “missed my good luck charm on my arm,” he kisses along your jaw, “missed having you wait for me in my driver’s room,” he makes his way up to your bottom lip and nips, “we have so much catching up to do..”

Turning your head away, giggling, “you have practice and qualifiers to get through first, mister,” You say earning a very small pout from the Dutchman, “how about, you place top five for qualifiers and I’ll spend the night at your hotel.” You let a finger gently trail long his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest before he drops.

Max follows your finger eyes darkening as he sticks his tongue out slightly to lick his bottom lip. Looking back up at you, “and if I get pole?”

Smiling innocently, you bat your lashes, “why do you think I wore a skirt?” A voice rings out for Max. Max groans as he squeezes you. He leans down to kiss your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “I expect you back here after qualifiers, bent over, skirt up for me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. He smirks and you want to wipe that smirk off his face. The voice is closer and you quick Max a quick peck with a grin, “good luck, sweetheart.” You purr softly and turn out of his grasp and disappear to the motorhome to enjoy the last few hours of your ability to walk.

#starlight library presents; #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 x theater partner #starlight library fiction #max x technical theater partner #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen smut #mv1 smut

[multifandomsw]

Apologies

Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: not many actually, fluff, jealousy (?), angst?, it’s the calm before the storm

summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?

author’s note: thank you for all the support! Let me know what you think of this chapter! I’m soooo excited for the next one. Also send in asks/ message me! I want to get to know y’all.

Part 3

Apologies masterlist

H: Which show?

Cherry: Munich N1!

Harry stared at his phone, excitement and dread filling his body at the same time, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

There was the possibility of you going to one of his shows. You. There was the possibility of him seeing you in two weeks-

Which was ridiculous. He didn’t even know how you looked, spotting you in a stadium of thousands was almost impossible and yet, Harry held onto that hope.

He wanted, desperately wanted with all of his heart, to tell you who he really was, to get to know you, the real you.

But could he tell you who he was? He didn’t want to destroy whatever you two had, he didn’t want to lose the only person he could be totally honest with, not after he’d already grown so fond of you-

H: You should go.

Cherry: I can’t go alone :(

H: But he’s your favorite singer. It’s a once in a lifetime chance. I’ve been to concerts on my own, too.

Lies.

Cherry: My social anxiety won’t allow me to even step foot into that stadium.

H: Please think about it. Maybe find someone to go with you? It’d make me happy if you went.

Cherry: Why?

H: If You’re happy, then I’m happy

Cherry: I’m blushing, stop it!

A grin spread on Harry’s lips, his heart strangely fluttering in his chest. It was ridiculous, really, that there was so much happiness shooting through his body over a simple message and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Harry, you need to hurry up!”, he heard Jeff yell out, pulling him out of his trance.

“Coming!”, he mumbled, taking one last look at the message before shutting off his phone.

-

You: Have you ever been in love, H?

H: I don’t think so. There were times when I thought I was in love, but I think I’ve just always been in love with the idea of being in love.

H: Have you ever been in love, Cherry?

You: Nope, never.

H: Did you ever think you were in love?

You: No.

You: Oh wait, does the crush on my PE teacher in high school count?

H: What????

You: He looked just like Chris Evans, it was insane, he always took of his shirt when he was sweating too much and when I tell you I ONLY looked at his muscles

H: Spare me the details!!!!

You: Oh, is someone jealous?

H: You wish

H: But honestly, have you never been in love?

You: I wish I was. I wish I would be. I love reading about love, I love watching romance movies, I love love. But I don’t think I’ll ever experience the true meaning of it

H: You will

You: Why are you so sure of it?

H: I just know you will

You: Okay, H, I’ll change my mind because of a person I met online

H: Ouch. That’s what I am to you?

You: Unfortunately, you’re so much more than that

H: Now I’M blushing

You stared at his message maybe a bit too long, a grin spreading on your face.

You had sat in this café countless of times and you had been worried every single time, worried that people would judge you for having no one to chat with, no one to sit with.

This time, however, it didn’t bother you that much anymore. It was insane really, but ever since you had been writing with H, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. Because of him. Because of a stranger.

You would be forever grateful for having him. He had helped you so much without even realizing it.

Somehow your miserable life didn’t seem so miserable anymore.

“Is someone sitting here?”, a voice pulled you out of your thoughts and it took all the willpower for you to look away from your phone.

When you met Jack’s blue eyes, your breath stopped. He was your old classmate, the one you bumped into a few weeks ago.

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let the embarrassment show on your face. “No, go ahead.”, you motioned to the empty seat.

“So, how have you been?”, he questioned, settling his eyes on yours. You scanned his features shortly. His blonde hair was slightly ruffled, his piercing blue eyes were shining and a big smile grazed his lips. You had to admit, he did look quite handsome.

“Oh- fine, I guess. Some of my classes are quiet hard- do you go to college here?”

Jack shook his head, his blonde hair falling ever so slightly on his forehead. “I’m just visiting my parents. I’m actually studying abroad in London.”

Right. You had forgot that his parents were super rich.

But your eyes widened at the mention of London. “Wow.”, you let out a breath. “London must be so beautiful.”, you dreamily continued. You had always wanted to leave your small town, to just move away and never look back. Unfortunately though, you never had the money nor the courage to do so.

“It is!”

Surprisingly, you two talked for a while. Jack was asking you multiple questions, seemingly interested in you and your life, too.

It was going smoothly. There were no awkward pauses or silences mid conversation, he always had something to ask you.

He was very nice.

“Oh I love those movies! Especially-“, you stopped mid sentence when you saw the love on tour sticker on his phone case.

You blinked a few times, thinking that you were just imagining it. “Are you- a Harry Styles fan?”

A blush instantly spread on Jack’s cheeks as he shifted in his seat. “Yeah, I really, ehm, I really love his music.”, he admitted, sounding a bit shyer than before.

“I love his music, too!”, you admitted excitedly. Sure, you had talked to people who liked Harry, but only on the internet. You had never talked with a person in real life who liked Harry.

“What’s your favorite song?”, you wanted to know.

Jack thought for a few seconds before he confidently answered. “Fine Line. But honestly, I love all of his songs.”

“I love that one, too.”, you longingly said. Oh, how you wished you could hear that song live, how you wished you had someone to go to the concert with-

Wait.

-

Harry stared at his phone, debating whether he should wait for you to answer his message or just write you.

His show was about to start, but he needed to hear from you beforehand. He needed to be in a good mood.

Before he could even type anything, a notification popped up on his phone.

Cherry: Guess what!

H: Guess who finally wrote me

Cherry: Hey, I’m sorry!

H: It’s okay. What’s up?

Cherry: I’m going to the concert!!!!

Harry’s heartbeat quickened. You were really going to his concert. There was the chance of seeing you. You and him were going to be in the same room-

H: I’m so happy for you!

H: Are you going alone? Who convinced you to go?

Cherry: Crazy story, actually. Do you remember the guy I bumped into at H&M? My old classmate?

H: Yeah, what about him?

Cherry: We met at a Café and we actually talked a bit. He seems like a sweet guy. And I found out that he loves Harry Styles! Can you imagine? The coincidence! Soo I asked him if he wanted to go with me.

H: What did he say?

Cherry: He was so happy about it! He didn’t manage to get any tickets yet. And he even called it a “date”! I’m going on my first date!

Harry’s jaw clenched. The happiness and excitement he had felt only moments ago were replaced by another feeling. It crept through his whole body, making it impossible for him to think rationally.

He was not jealous, no, he was envious.

He wanted to have what Jack had. He wanted to be the one taking you on that date, he wanted to be your first date.

He should be happy for you, he really should, but he couldn’t pretend to be. Not when he was anything but.

Cherry: H?

H: Sorry. I’m happy for you. If he does anything that bothers you, call me.

Cherry: But we have never even spoken on the phone!

“Harry!”, a team member shouted out and Harry knew he had to go on stage.

He had to pull himself together. For his fans.

-

H: What are you gonna wear to the concert?

Cherry: Okay sooo I bought the outfit last year when I got tickets, actually! I have a pink feather boa, a pink glitter hat, some glitter pants, a butterfly glitter top and some heart shaped sunglasses!

Cherry: Before you judge me, this is kind of his dress code. As much glitter and color as possible!

H: Hey, I knew that!

Cherry: Sure, grandpa

H: Hey!

H: You need to send me a picture of your full outfit when you go

Cherry: As far as I’m concerned, you could still be an old man. Sending a stranger a picture of my outfit? I’m not so sure-

H: We’ve been over this like a million times already

Cherry: I’m kidding. I will.

Cherry: Without showing my face, though

H: You still don’t trust me

Cherry: I’m just being cautious!

Cherry: Which reminds me: I want a baby!

H: Excuse me?

Cherry: I saw this super cute little chubby baby today. And it smiled at me! And it giggled!

H: And it also vomits and cries all night.

Cherry: We’re not focusing on the negative aspects. I already went to H&M to look at some baby clothes. They’re soo cute!

H: You know, having a baby usually requires getting pregnant, which requires intercourse, which requires someone to have said intercourse with

Cherry: Good point.

Cherry: I could ask Jack!

H: No, no, no, you will do no such thing, Cherry

Cherry: I’m kidding!

Cherry: But the baby was really cute

H: I love children, too, trust me.

Cherry: Do you ever want any?

H: More than anything, do you?

Cherry: Yes, I think I do

Cherry: But that requires having someone to have children with

Cherry: I don’t have anyone

H: Yet

Cherry: I hope you’re right

H: I always am!

-

“The show is in two days.”, Harry whispered. “The show is in two fucking days.”, he said a bit louder, gaining Sahra’s attention.

“Hey, you okay?”, she questioned, sitting down next to him and looking at his tired expression with worry.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything but think about that concert.”

Sarah nodded along, immediately knowing who this was about. “It’s about the girl isn’t it?”, she whispered. “Jeff told me about her.”, she clarified quickly.

“I feel like such a dick. I want to see her, I want to talk to her, I want to get to know her, but I don’t want to lose that privilege of her not knowing who I am. There are no-“

“No expectations when you’re writing with her. I get it, I really do.”, Sarah hummed. “But is that how you want it to be forever? Simply writing with each other? Or do you want this to actually turn into something real?”

Harry but his lip, thoughts racing through his head.

“That’s what you should ask yourself, H.”, Sarah finished.

“I- I don’t know if I can tell her.”, he admitted, defeatedly.

“Maybe give her hints?”

Harry thought for a second. “Cherry.”, he began. “That’s what I call her.”, he continued. “I should- I’m gonna wear something with Cherries.”

“Isn’t your song Cherry about Camille?”, Sarah questioned, an amused look washing over her face.

“Oh, shut up.”, he rolled his eyes.

taglist: @st-ev-ie @hsstylesrings @bubblespower101 @ravisinghs-wife @mopeymousey @shishcabobsworld @stylesfever @valntynebaby @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @harryspirate

#bts angst #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

[chouxsardine]

Permission to Fall -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Don't be afraid of falling, because he will catch you everytime" --Where things became too much at your company's Christmas party and Jake comes to the rescue as the most thoughtful boyfriend that he is.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3211

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, feet (nothing gross or super detailed), a drop of superstition (let me know if I've missed any)

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is originally an idea inspired by @jakesguitarsolo and written for her. I hope you feel better now, dear. One idea spins into me pulling an all nighter...And here it is. This also goes to whoever feels stressed around this time of the year. Yes, things are tough, but you are stronger. I am so proud of you. If you want to talk, feel free to send me an ask or message. This is my first gvf fic and my first time writing anything for threes years. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it too.

🎧: I am listening to I Need You Most of All by Stephen Sanchez while writing this (you can tell the title is taken from the lyrics)

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Suddenly everything is too much.

But you know damn well that it doesn’t just happen “suddenly”. In fact, shit has been building up for days, or even weeks. You don’t know if it’s the end-of-year frenzy getting into everyone’s head, Mercury is in retrograde, or the depleted Vitamin D levels due to shortened daylight, you’ve had it particularly rough recently, from small inconveniences like your favourite snack being out of stock at the local grocery store for three consecutive weeks to mishaps like you taking the blame for your impotent coworker. You are exhausted, to say the least; you couldn’t wait for the holidays. Not entirely for its cheer, but for the few precious days off. You just need a break from everything.

Now you are stuck in your company’s holiday party. The annual event that you dreaded the most. It involves too many fake smiles, false-hearted small talk, and tooth-rotting-sweet cupcakes that clearly have too much food colouring. All the mental preparing goes south as you stand in the room, the stabbing pain from your high-heels growing more and more unbearable by the second. Too many people.

“Just another thirty minutes, you can do it. Just another thirty minutes”. You hopelessly glance at the clock on the wall, flashbacking to your childhood self squirming in the seats waiting for math class to end.

But of course, something has to make matters worse. The real straw that breaks the camel’s back is your clumsy coworker accidentally bumping into you and spilling her drink on your shoes.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, y/n!” She hastily apologizes in a high-pitched squeal. A few people turn their heads toward your direction.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Panic. Trouble. You try to wave her off. The shoes aren’t even your top concerns right now; you just want her to stop talking and stop attracting more unwanted attention.

“Really? Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just—”

“Please.” You take the handful of tissues from her, look her in the eyes, almost pleading, “It’s fine. Please excuse me, I’ll just go to the washroom real quick.”

Once the washroom door is closed behind you, you feel like collapsing right there on the floor. You wobble your way to the sink, arms propped up on the cold marble surface. You don’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Your ears are buzzing and the twisted feeling in your lungs tightens. As if a cold hand is wringing a wet towel inside your stomach, as if someone is shoving your head into cold water, you can't breath properly. You try to draw a breath, but end up sounding like a stranded whale. Before it develops into a full-blown panic attack that you can’t handle, you managed to muster the last bit of your sanity and dial that number with trembling fingers.

Jake picks up on the second ring.

“Hi, love. What’s up? ”

Upon hearing his voice, your tears break free. You are sobbing so hard that you have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the volume down. God forbid any busybody out there overhearing sobbing coming out of the washroom. “Ja—Jake—-”You struggled to form a coherent syllable.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Are you hurt?” His voice immediately grows sterner, stripped of of the previous languidness.

To talk under this state feels like squeezing words out of your veins. “Ca—can—you..come p—pick me up? Company—p-party.” You stutter through gritted teeth.

There is some shuffled noise over the phone, a loud bang sounding like he had bumped into something, a silent “fuck” under his breath, then his voice reaches your ears again: “Coming right now, baby, take a deep breath for me.”

You hear the faint beeping of car keys. More shuffled noise. More beeping. That means he has started the car, right? That means he will be here soon, right? You mind is racing and spinning and your lungs are still acting up, only allow silvers of oxygen into your body. You feel like you are watching the world through a distorted filter. A scarier thought jumps into your brain: you whiny puny thing, continue crying and your panic will affect Jake. The roads are slippery now, and it will be all your fault if he ends up in a car accident.

As if being slapped in the face, you manage to suck in a deep breath like a scuba diver resurfacing to the water: “Drive safe please, please Jake, please—I will wait for you.”

Jake makes a sound that is somewhat between a relieved laugh and a resigned sigh. He knows instantly what’s going on in your overthinking brain; you are worried about him. The thoughtfulness must be engraved in y/n’s brain, he thought, always, always putting others in front of herself, even when she’s having a panic attack. And Jake knows you are correct. It is only upon hearing your words that he realizes how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He recomposes himself, relaxing his shoulder, “Don’t you worry about me, love. I will stay on the phone if that makes you feel better, yeah? Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.”

“Knock on wood!” You hiss between sobbing, frantically searching for any wooden material around you. Damn it, why is everything so shiny and glassy?

Jake is amazed that he even lets out a short laugh under the circumstances. Yes, his heart aches hearing his girl being a mess over the phone, and he wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side. But meanwhile, he can't help but find you cute like this. He knocks three times on the mini wooden tissue box that he keeps in the middle console.

“Yes, knock on wood. You hear that, doll?”

“Hmm.” You would honestly believe anything now. Hearing Jake’s voice and imagining him coming to you is like brown noise for babies. Your lungs finally decide to have mercy on you, and you can now somehow draw in shallow breaths albeit the pain in your chest.

Jake is relieved as he sees the green lights shining at the last intersection before turning left onto the side road where your company is located. “I’m here. Can you come down by yourself, love? Or do you want me to get you?”

“I can come down.” You say. The thought of him finding you in a messy pile on the bathroom floor makes you wince, even though he’d probably seen worse.

“Okay baby, see you in a second.”

You don’t remember how you collected your coat and pushed your way through the crowded room without many people noticing. The next moment, your sensations are restored, and you find yourself already in Jake’s arms. He's waiting for you in the area between the automatic glass door and the revolving door outside, a place that is warm with air conditioning but won’t attract nosy people. He wraps you in a hug with his wool jacket. His comforting scent fills your nostrils, a powerful pacifier for your naughty lungs. For the first time this evening, you can finally breathe properly like a normal human being. The rush of fresh air makes you release a loud sob like a newborn baby. The relief of seeing him safely standing in front of you and the release of finally being free from the stressful and stuffy environment ushers more tears to stream down your face.

“Shhhh…..you’re okay now, y/n, safe now. I’m here.” His hand wraps protectively around the back of your head as he plants kisses into your hair. “Poor girl, let’s get to the car and go home.”

Home. Home sounds heavenly to your right now. You couldn’t think of a better combination of these four letters in the whole of human history.

On the way back, you curl into a ball on the passenger seat like a battered puppy. Jake holds your hand whenever he gets the chance, his strong calloused fingers gently massaging yours, tracing the patterns on your palm, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, providing warmth. No longer crying, your shoulders occasionally shudder with involuntary sobs that escape you. But other than that, you are falling into a trance. Your gaze concentrated on Jake’s perfect side profile through hooded eyes, watching in awe as the passing streetlights formed patterns of shadow on his graceful nose and cheeks; your mind numb without a single thought.

It is only when Jake wakes you up that you realize you have fallen asleep. The car is already parked in the garage, the familiar and comforting damp smell seeping in.

“We are home now, sleepyhead.” Jake smiles at you, tapping on your wrist to signal you to wait as he gets out of the car and opens your side of the door. Just as you were about to step off, Jake reaches to cradle you by the shoulders and knees, carrying you bridle-style into the house. You hide your face shyly in the crook of his neck, secretly grateful because your feet are indeed sore in those heels.

Jake puts you down by the shoe rack, motioning you to put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he squats down in front you, holding your ankles and taking off your shoes. If he did see the stains, he didn’t ask any questions, only cooed when he saw the blisters on your heels.

“Let’s go upstairs and get your makeup off, then we’ll cuddle and go to bed, yeah?” Jake stands up, hanging up your coat before cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You never hated makeup more than now, regretting to put it on in the first place, now that it has become the annoying barrier lying in your way to bedtime. But Jake says “let’s,” that means he’s going to do it together with you, right?

“Jake?” You whine bashfully.

“Yes, love?”

You tilt up your chin and close your eyes, “One more kissy, please?”

Jake swears he feels a part of his heart melt right there. Who is he to deny you?

“Of course, as many as my princess would like.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Jake sits you on the closed toilet seat. He opens the drawer, grabs your makeup remover and some cotton pads. He applies some liquid onto the wipes and lifts up your chin.

“Close your eyes for me, love.” The cool liquid on your eyelids makes your eyebrows twitch, causing Jake to chuckle, “I know, I know. Just a little longer.”

You sit quietly, mesmerized and hypnotized under his touch. His movements are almost rhythmic. Is this how cats feel when their owners scratches behind their ears? You fear that if you make a sound, you will actually let out a purr.

Jake continues until most of your makeup is gone. “Hold out your hands,” you hear him say and complied. Two dollops of foamy liquid landed in the centre of your palm, and you opened your eyes to recognize they are your face wash. Jake tugs on your wrist, leading you to stand in front of the sink.

“Can you wash your pretty face now, darling? Wash up, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

You nodded, feeling lighter and more relaxed now without your makeup and even more content when you turn on the tap and find out that Jake has already tuned it to a lukewarm temperature for you.

When Jake returned, he was calling you from the bedroom. You have already brushed your teeth and let down your hair.

You walked into the bedroom and are welcomed by the scent of bergamot and sandalwood from your favourite candle glowing on the night stand. Jake was pulling an old T-shirt out from the closet. It was the vintage Joan Jett and The Blackhearts shirt, the patterns half faded, and materials worn-out soft. You saw him laying out one of his boxers for you too. He knows you always prefer them to your own underwear as pyjamas.

“Come sit, angel.” He patted the bench at the foot of the bed, him sitting across from it on a small stool.

It is only when you walked close that you saw the wooden foot spa basin, with clouds of steam rising from it. As you sat down, he gently took your ankle and balanced your feet on the edge of the basin, so that the hot water is steaming your sole.

“It’s still a bit hot.” He looks up to you. “I put Epsom salt and eucalyptus oil in it.”

“Where did you get this?” You feel like the heat from the bottom of the feet is slowly being absorbed into your veins and rising up to your cheeks. You wiggle your toes nervously.

Jake lets out a giggle, “Well, mum suggested once to Josh about the foot spa thing, said it helps with stress and tense muscles. You know, with him running barefoot on stage and all.” He reaches down to sprinkle some water onto your feet, letting you adjust to the temperature. “But Josh got the fancy electric ones. I thought this is better. More authentic, don’t you think?”

“Uh-hmm.”

“Your nails are all chipped,” Jake looks down, “maybe tomorrow we can repaint them? I saw you bought a new colour the other day.”

Tender. So tender. From his tone to his caramel brown eyes. The light from the lamp illuminates the left side of his face, giving it a solemn, smooth glow like a wax statue. Your heart swells; love makes it rise like Soufflé in the oven. The soft surface rises up until it touches your ribcage, threatening to spill those tears again.

“Thank you, Jake.” You dare not raise your voice, fearing that it will break, “I just got a bit overwhelmed at the party, is all.”

Jake eases your feet slowly into the water now that it’s the perfect temperature. The slight sling of your blisters is soon overwhelmed by the all-encompassing warmth that rises all the way to your ankle.

After a few heart beats, he speaks again. “You’ll always have me, y/n. You are allowed to fall, to break. I will be here to catch you, to piece you together. Whatever you need.”

Finally you were snuggled together in bed. You, a human koala, cling to Jake with your face pressed against his chest. His arm snakes around your shoulder, fingers mindlessly tracing your collarbone, strumming some unknown patterns. His heartbeat thumping in your ear, the perfect lullaby. The steady rise and fall of his chest is like waves, rocking you into a sweet slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy like velvet drapes. There’s still a stubborn voice in your brain keeping you from falling asleep. There’s still one more thing you need to do, even though you understood each other perfectly.

“Jake?” Your voice low like a murmur. Jake almost didn’t hear you at first.

“What is it, babe?”

“I love you.” Those words come out as a slur, and like a magic spell, you fall into the deep embrace of sleep as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips. Now clear of any stress and worries in the arms of your lover, the strained string in you brain that has been holding on for dear life the whole evening finally snaps. You’re out like a light.

“I love you back, y/n, through and through.” He whispers into your dream.

You woke up to an empty bed, the sheet on his side still has the human-shaped imprint. Jake is a night owl; it is pretty common that he just gets up in the middle of the night and ends up doing some random things around the house. Most often it’s him strumming the guitar and experimenting with his ideas for new tunes in the home studio downstairs. But you have also caught him fixing chipped paint on the walls, repotting the succulents in the garage, and pouring broth into the crockpot with chicken thighs and smoked ham hock (“so we could have warm chicken chili in the morning!”; to be honest, it’s indeed delicious; you had two bowls and had to skip lunch that day). Just to name a few, so the possibilities are endless.

You get out of bed, creep cross the corridor and tiptoe your way down the stairs. The lights at the doorway are on; you thought Jake forgot to turn them off. However, as you approach, you see Jake squatting down next to the shoe rack, his back towards you, and a brush and some spray bottles laying nearby.

You move closer and see him holding the clothes steamer near your wine-stained shoes. The heels you wore have a suede tip in the front, and unfortunately, that’s where the wine was mostly spilt on. After a few moments, Jake uses the wire brush to clean the surface. He stops from time to time, holding it further to inspect the result.

You waited until he stops again to make some sounds, announcing your presence. Jake immediately turns around. His eyes softens upon seeing you.

“What are you doing up?”

You go to squat down next to him, kissing his temple before resting your head on his shoulder.

“You just bought these not so long ago, yeah? It’d be a shame to leave them stained.” Jake lets more steam soak into the fabric before brushing them again. “I’m almost done. I saw this trick online, and it looks pretty legit.” It’s only then that you noticed his phone on the side, the screen showing the replies from some Reddit post.

“Thank you, baby.” You rub your cheeks slightly on his T-shirt; the feeling of warm pastry once again fills your heart.

“No worries, doll. I think it’s good for now. Let’s leave them here and check in the morning.” Jake starts putting away his tools before pulling you up and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back upstairs.

On your way, something familiar catches your eye. You must’ve missed it earlier.

“Wait, where did you get that?” You stop, pointing at what happens to be a whole case of your favourite snack lying on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I saw the stores are out of them, so I ordered them online. They just arrived today.” Jake scratches his head, his tone tainted with slight disappointment.“I thought they’d be a nice surprise as stocking stuffers, but…”

You stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss.

“I love you.” This time you said it clear against his lips.

“Oh doll, I love you back,” he smiles, showing the cutest wrinkle on his nose. His hands brush your shoulder as you resume your steps upstairs. “Let’s get a few more hours of sleep now. And when you wake up, you will wake up to some yummy pancakes and a pair of stain-free shoes, huh? How does that sound?”

Oh Lord, that sounds heavenly. That sounds just like home.

“I’d like that, Jake. I’d like that very, very much.”

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Thank you for reading :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

(The stain-removing tips comes from malccy72 on reddit :D

If you also feel like reading a smutty (but also fluffy?) piece🤭: Mariner's Complex || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

or some Christmas fluff: Ticked (all my boxes)

#jake kiskza x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

[whitesparrows97]

Not quite the same – Part 6

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook x Dog Hybrid!Reader

Summary: You had always thought that your home with your family was the final stop. After your owners abandon you and a storm drives you into the nearby forest, you think things can’t get any worse. At least until you run right into the arms of a pack of wolves.

Genre: Hybrid AU; angst, smut, fluff

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Making out, grinding, dirty talk, Y/N having a little bit too much fantasy (in more than one way); also the ANGST is starting

Word Count: 7.9K

Previous / Next

A/N: Hello, hello!!! I didn’t plan on going on hiatus for as long as I did, but the healing process of the surgery turned out to be a little bit more difficult than expected. I’m all right now, so please don’t worry! Thank you for your sweet messages though, they really helped me through some not so great days! I’m also really excited about writing again, as this story finally takes up a little bit more speed. As always, please read the warning, it’s getting intense now. I hope you’re all doing well and are just excited about this chapter as I am! Sending my love to everyone xx

Stepping outside onto the terrace for the first time in ten days, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Fresh air filled your lungs and a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders. Even though you were used to being locked up, you would probably never get used to it. None of the others had explicitly told you to stay in Taehyung’s room, but you hadn’t been in the mood to go out or talk to the others for the past few days. The short conversations with Seokjin and Namjoon, who had taken turns to bring you food had been enough social contact for you. 

Now, however, you couldn’t stop grinning when you saw Jimin and Taehyung digging up the soil of the flower beds with shovels and spades. You had spent the last few days watching the others working in the garden from Taehyung’s window after hearing voices and laughter outside. The image of Jungkook came into your head; shirtless, kneeling and concentrating on his work digging up the earth, sweaty skin illuminated by the sun. 

You swallowed. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung shouted as he caught sight of you and waved effusively. 

This snapped you out of your thoughts and with a laugh on your lips, you headed towards them. Jimin stood up as well. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked when you stopped beside them. 

“Better,” you replied. The night before your heat ended, but had taken the precaution of waiting until morning to get enough rest. The suppressants that Namjoon had gotten you from Marten had drained your body. The first night you had thrown up and you had had to convince Seokjin to keep taking them. 

But it had been worth it to you, because you had been dying to see the others again. 

“You must be here because you want to help us with the gardening, right?” Taehyung grinned and nudged you with his shoulder. “Jungkookie actually promised us too. I don’t know where he is.” He looked toward the house with his eyebrows drawn together.

You followed his gaze and new joy rose in you as you thought of the other hybrid. “Why are you even awake already, Taehyung?”

Jimin snorted at your comment and you didn’t miss the evil look Taehyung gave him. 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung pouted and picked up the shovel from the ground to continue digging. This time with a little more force than necessary. 

“Not that easy when you have to share the room, huh?” Jimin looked at the other with a grin. 

“I’ll let Seokjin know that you can move back into your room, Taehyung.” You felt bad that Taehyung couldn’t sleep well because you were occupying his room. 

However, to your surprise, he looked at you and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay, you needed the room more than me.” He gave Jimin a quick sideways glance. “Even though Jiminie’s a real pain in the ass. I didn’t know anyone could toss and turn so much in their sleep.”

Jimin pouted. “You should be thankful, you could have slept on the sofa and you know how early Seokjin-Hyung always gets up.”

Taehyung paused. Then he nodded in agreement. “I guess you’re right about that. But we’ll have to solve the room arrangement in the future.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and you looked intently at the tips of your shoes, which were digging into the loose earth. Jungkook’s comment came back to your mind that you could share a room. Deep in thought of the upcoming conversation with him, you didn’t notice how your tail had begun to sway from side to side. The movement was amplified when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Sorry, sorry! Seokjin put me on kitchen duty, but I’m here now–”

You turned around and the smile was on your lips before your eyes even met. Jungkook had sprinted down the steps of the patio and then stopped in place when he caught sight of you. 

“Hey.” His voice sounded deeper than you remembered. His still-damp hair stuck to his forehead, and with an absent movement he brushed it back. 

“Hi,” you said, quieter than he did and strangely out of breath. Not even two seconds later you had thrown yourself into his arms, which wrapped tightly around your body at the same moment. You inhaled deeply. Under the soap and detergent of his clothes you could clearly make out his scent and you pressed your nose even harder against his chest. Then you felt his nose in your hair. 

“I missed you,” he murmured very close to your ear, which twitched slightly and you thought you felt him press a kiss to the place where your ear disappeared in your hair. 

You hummed contentedly and pressed yourself a little tighter against him. 

You almost forgot about the other two standing just a few feet away from you. Until Jimin eventually cleared his throat, causing you and Jungkook to flinch. You detached yourselves from each other, if you could call it that. Jungkook still had his arm around your shoulders and had you pressed against his side while his focus was on the other hybrid. 

Jimin scowled at Jungkook. “You’re late, you promised to help us.”

“That’s what I was trying to explain,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes with a smile on his lips. “Seokjin made me do the dishes and I had to do that first because someone didn’t do them last night.” He gave Taehyung a meaningful look. The latter, however, was exceptionally focused on his task of pulling weeds and seemed oblivious to the conversation. 

“All right,” Jimin said, lowering his folded arms. “You’ll get away with it this time. Will you two get some tools from the shed?”

“Will do!” 

With that, Jungkook had grabbed your hand and was pulling you toward the shed, which was almost at the edge of the clearing. The closer you got to it, the more clearly you saw that the others must have been repairing the roof. Boards of different shades of wood were in place like a patchwork quilt, holding up to the rain and storms. The door squeaked as Jungkook opened it and the only light that fell into the otherwise dark shed came through the small window across from the door. It smelled slightly musty in here, possibly a bit like mold, but mostly like earth and grass. 

“Do you need gloves?” asked Jungkook, who was already digging in a box while you were still looking around. You wondered if the others had all the equipment from Marten. “Hmm, can you try these on?”

He held out a pair of gloves to you and as you slipped into them and they slid over your fingers far too easily, Jungkook laughed. 

“Okay, these might be a little too big.” He grabbed the fingertips that weren’t even close to being filled by your fingers and pulled the gloves back off your hands. “We don’t have any other size, unfortunately. Jimin grabbed the smallest ones.”

“That’s okay,” you said. Your eyes fell on a small shovel and a box of a wide variety of seeds. “I can help plant them. And I have no problem touching the soil.”

There was silence between you as you took various little bags out of the box and looked at them. You were so engrossed in reading the various inscriptions – tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber, strawberries – that you didn’t notice Jungkook’s gaze on you. 

It wasn’t until he mumbled your name, that you looked up. “I’m sorry I left you alone like that with your heat.” He looked from you down to his feet. “And didn’t even visit you. Jin-Hyung told me not to.”

You lowered the box to the floor, straightened up, and took a few steps towards Jungkook. “You don’t need to apologize for that.” The situation just before you had last seen Jungkook had shown all too clearly that Seokjin’s decision had probably been the right one. 

Jungkook shook his head and emitted a frustrated grunt before his gaze found yours again. “It still wasn’t fair. I wouldn’t have done anything! Especially nothing you wouldn’t want me to.”

You had to smile. “I think that’s what Seokjin’s concern was, though. That we’d both do something rash because we both wanted to.”

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitched up slightly as well, but the crease of frustration between his eyebrows hadn’t quite disappeared yet. You took one last step towards him, so that the tips of your feet almost touched his, and brushed your thumb over it. You watched the skin under your finger relax. 

Jungkook grabbed your wrist and turned it so that the inside was facing him. Your eyes met as the tip of his nose touched your wrist and only left each other when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“I think I’ve told you this before,” he murmured, running the tip of his nose along the veins on your wrist, “but you smell amazing.” 

A smile spread across your lips. “You can tell me as much as you want.” You raised your free hand and watched as your fingertips slid through his hair. When your fingernails lightly scratched his scalp, a satisfied rumble filled the shed. He pressed his nose even closer to your skin for a moment before finally disengaging from your wrist and letting it sink back to your side. 

You heard his heartbeat beating fast and strong and one of your own rushing in your ears. Before you knew it, you had moved closer until his forehead finally touched yours. A hand clutched your hip and pulled you against him until your breasts touched his torso. The air escaped you as your torsos met. 

“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?” 

A short laugh escaped you and you shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Then you’ve got plans now. I’ll show you my favorite place here in the woods.”

“Is this a date?” You leaned back a little to look at Jungkook. His eyes reflected the grin he wore on his lips. Then he nodded. 

But before you could say anything, the door of the shed was pulled open. The light blinded you for a moment before you realized that Jimin was standing in the doorway. 

He had his hands on his hips and was glaring at the two of you. “I know you can’t keep your hands off each other,” he began, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks for the second time today. “But leaving Taehyung and me alone to do the gardening isn’t nice. We’re counting on you guys.”

“We didn’t do anything,” you affirmed, but Jimin only raised his eyebrows. Suddenly you were aware of how close you and Jungkook were as you felt his chest against your cheek. 

“Oh yeah, sure, of course not,” Jimin said as he was already turning around and heading back to Taehyung. 

For a moment, you and Jungkook stood there silently, both of your eyes fixed on the still-open door of the shed, before Jungkook began to laugh softly.

Immediately, your head snapped up to him. “Stop laughing.” You wanted to hit his chest, but he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers together. 

Small wrinkles were still visible even when Jungkook had already stopped laughing. With a smile, he looked into your eyes.

Then he detached himself from you and bent down to the watering can he had already taken from the shelf and gave you the small shovel with which you could easily dig the holes for the seeds. Jungkook tucked the box of seeds under his arm.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook said euphorically, “before Jimin gets even more obnoxious,” he added quietly so the other hybrid couldn’t hear him. You still had to laugh.

Taehyung showed you how deep you had to dig the holes and that you shouldn’t pour the soil over them too tightly so that the seeds would easily find their way to the surface. Jungkook helped you by watering the freshly planted seeds with a little water. You worked your way through the morning like this until the sun beat down on your heads. 

“Oh! Look,” you suddenly called out, crouching down. “An earthworm.” You leaned forward until the tip of your nose almost touched the damp earth. The earthworm wriggled from one direction to the other. Shadows appeared beside you, covering the earthworm. 

“He probably got lost and thought it was raining,” Jimin explained. 

“You’ve never seen an earthworm before, Y/N?” Taehyung asked, without sounding accusing. 

“Only from books that my owners gave me,” you replied, watching intently as the earthworm dug its way back into the ground. “And I think I saw one in the street once when it was raining. But I was pulled away before I could get a closer look.”

There was silence for a moment, during which the four of you watched the worm disappear completely into the earth. 

“Geez,” Taehyung said, “your owners were jerks.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin said, shoving him against the shoulder so that he fell backwards onto his butt. 

“What? It’s true.” 

“Still, you don’t have to blurt it out like that.” Jimin continued to argue with Taehyung, but you kept your eyes on Jungkook, who had crouched down next to you.

“Did you know that earthworms come out of the ground when it rains because the tunnels they have dug are flooded?” You shook your head and Jungkook ran his fingers through the soil to loosen it up. “There are some birds that stomp on the ground, imitating rain. Then the earthworms think it’s raining and leave their shelter in the earth.”

You gasped. “Oh no, the poor earthworms.” You looked sadly at the small pile of soil the earthworm had left behind as it burrowed back into the earth. 

Jungkook laughed softly when he heard your tone. “You’re cute.” He leaned to the side and pressed a kiss to your cheek so quickly that he was up before you even realized what had happened.

When Seokjin stepped out onto the terrace and called you to lunch, you could still feel his lips on your skin. 

. . .

A thought solidified throughout the day and didn’t let you rest during dinner. When the conversation turned to the next grocery shopping trip and Namjoon and Seokjin began planning who would drive to town next, you plucked up your courage. Although you had never learned how to handle money, you knew that the money your former owners had given you would not last forever. 

You followed the conversations that were thrown back and forth like balls between the others and waited for the right moment. Several times you started to speak, only for one of the others to beat you to it and close your mouth again. You wondered if perhaps you should discuss the issue privately with Namjoon.

Jungkook sensed your nervousness and squeezed your thigh. Once briefly and very fleetingly, but still you felt your jaw relax as you stopped pressing them together. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Jungkook as you let out a frustrated breath. Jungkook’s question, even though it was asked quietly, drew the attention to the others, so that a second later, five pairs of eyes were on you. The conversations had fallen silent. 

Out of reflex, you ducked your head and flattened your ears, unsettled by so much sudden attention. You sought Namjoon’s gaze. “I heard you and Seokjin talking, and I know you’re worried about money.”

Astonishment flitted across his face, but was gone as quickly as it had come. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I do, though,” you objected. “The next few months will be a little easier because we’ll have plenty of food to plant and lots of animals in the forest. But what will we do when it gets colder? How did you guys survive the last few winters?” Jimin and Taehyung avoided your gaze, while Seokjin looked thoughtfully at Namjoon. 

He, in turn, straightened up so that he was sitting bolt upright in his chair and looked a few more inches taller. “We’ll get by. We have been for the last few years.”

You snorted. “And how? By a hair’s breadth and just barely?” For a moment you paused. “You let me live here without expecting anything from me. But with me, you have the possibility that we can afford more.”

“That’s out of the question,” Namjoon interrupted you.

“I have a work permit–”

“And what if they check with your owners?”

“Then I’ll put your phone number in the contact information.”

“That’ll never work.”

“Why are you resisting this so much, Namjoon? I’m trying to help you, why don’t you want my help?”

Namjoon had fallen silent and looked at you blankly. A thought formed; like a parasite, it bore into your mind. 

When you spoke, your voice was very quiet. “Is it because you don’t want to depend on me? Is it because you hope I’ll leave in the next few days?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed as if he didn’t expect that statement. “Why, do you want to leave?” he asked. 

Jungkook beat you to the punch with his answer. “What kind of stupid question is that?” He had straightened up in his chair next to you and leaned forward, resting his palms on the table. “I thought we settled that matter? You promised me we’d include her in the pack!”

Your heart sank when you heard that. There was nothing you would have liked more than to finally be accepted. To finally arrive. Slowly you lowered your eyes and stared at your entwined hands. Your eyes burned as thoughts popped into your head. Namjoon had just been gracious enough not to kick you out in your heat. But it had never been in his interest to include you in the pack. Him no longer assuming you belonged to RCH and trusting you enough to take you into the family were two very different things. 

“She could work for Marten,” Taehyung suggested. Some warmth spread through you when you heard that he also stood up for you. 

“True, he wouldn’t ask about her owners either,” Jimin agreed. Still keeping your gaze on your hands, the smile he gave you escaped you. 

The loud and sudden slam of a flat hand on the wooden table made you wince. Dishes clanged for a brief moment before silence fell. 

When Namjoon spoke, his voice was controlled. But you heard the effort behind it as he spoke the next words slowly and clearly. “If I say no once, that must be enough for you as an answer. If I say that Y/N will not work – whether for Marten or for someone else – then you must accept that.” He paused for a moment. “Do you understand?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the others nod. You, on the other hand, remained sitting motionless. Even though you knew they had no choice but to agree, you felt betrayed. 

“But what is–” 

“I know what you want to say, Jungkook,” Namjoon interrupted him. “And you should know that I don’t like having words put in my mouth.” You felt Namjoon’s gaze on you, but didn’t dare look up. “I’ll ask you again, Y/N. Do you want to stay with us?”

Silently, but without hesitation, you nodded. 

“Good,” he said. You didn’t know what was good about the fact that you wanted to stay with them but Namjoon objected. You were all the more surprised when Namjoon spoke the next words. “Then we’ve settled that. I never said I wanted to get rid of you, Y/N.” His voice, which now sounded far softer than before, finally made you look up. “All I said was that I didn’t want you to work. It has nothing to do with you, it has to do with other factors.”

“What factors?” you mumbled. 

Namjoon sighed. It was the first time you had heard that sound come out of his mouth, and if you didn’t know better, he almost sounded frustrated. 

“I can’t say much about that yet if I’m not sure myself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jungkook. The irritation hadn’t completely disappeared from his voice, yet he sounded far more relaxed than he had just a few moments before. 

“Namjoon,” Seokjin interjected, “we’re a family. You should tell the others.”

Namjoon closed his eyes for a moment and you saw his chest rise and fall significantly as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, your eyes met. 

“It’s not Y/N I don’t trust. It’s Marten.”

“Marten?” came from several mouths at once. 

“Namjoon thinks that Marten is acting strangely,” Jin clarified. 

Namjoon turned to the side and looked at him. “When I walked into his office, I felt like I caught him in something. Like I interrupted him doing something. He was all agitated,” he explained, gesturing wildly with his hands. “He put a note in his jeans pocket that he didn’t want me to see. I’m sure he’s hiding something.”

“Namjoon…” Seokjin put a hand on his upper arm. “This doesn’t have to have anything to do with us. We’re not his only customers, so who knows what kind of shady people he’s dealing with.”

But Namjoon shook his head. “My hunch has never been wrong before. Not with that asshole four years ago, and not now.”

“But you were wrong about Y/N.” Jungkook had grabbed your hand and was sitting upright beside you.

“That’s right.” Namjoon nodded and turned his gaze back to you, “And I apologized for that.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly, and Jungkook squeezed your hand. 

“Does that mean we won’t go to Marten anymore when we need help?” asked Taehyung. 

“I’d prefer if we try to manage without him for the next few weeks,” Namjoon confirmed. “Just to be on the safe side.”

. . .

You sat on your bed, your legs pulled up against you, looking out the window into the cloudless night. The sky was speckled with tiny white dots and you wondered how far away the myriad stars were from you. Whether someone was staring out the window at the same time as you, on a completely different planet far away, asking themselves the same questions as you. 

The door to the room opened and you quickly wiped your face with the back of your hand. 

“I brought my bedding–” Jungkook fell silent. Then footsteps quickly approached. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook lower himself onto the bed, but you dodged his gaze that was on you. 

“Hey, what happened? Is this because of what Namjoon said?”

You shook your head and tears flew from your cheeks onto the bedspread, staining the light blue material dark. Sniffling, you looked up. Jungkook’s ears were folded back and his lips pressed into a straight line. 

“It’s fine,” you placated him, “I just get sad sometimes when I think about my owners. I think it’s just all a bit much for me right now.”

“I understand that!” Jungkook said, moving a little closer so he could clasp your hands with his. “Well, not the part about the owners, my owners were shit. But I know what it’s like to lose a family.”

You released one hand from Jungkook’s grip and wiped your face with another sniffle. “What happened back then? I only know the part about how you and Jimin joined Namjoon and Jin. What was your life like before that?”

Jungkook expelled a long breath and played with your fingers as he thought. The silence stretched for several seconds. “Different,” he finally said. “Definitely lonelier than now.”

You frowned when you heard that. 

“I don’t know exactly how many hybrids we were, maybe around a hundred? A hundred and fifty?”

“A hundred and fifty?!” You had never seen so many hybrids in one place, not even at the shelter. There you had been divided up, by breed, age and sex.

Jungkook just smiled at your exclamation. “I know, it’s hard to imagine. And it wasn’t always easy… actually, it never was. As far back as I can remember, there was always fighting between different packs. Everyone wanted to be first on the food chain, because whoever was at the top had the best chance of survival.”

“That sounds terrible.” You clasped Jungkook’s hands tighter. 

He shrugged his shoulders. “Looking back, it was, but I didn’t know any different. And I was never alone, so that was quite nice. I still was really lonely though. I only got to know what a family was when I met Jimin.”

“Was that the time of the Jungkook who would never have watched romance movies?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment before a laugh fell from his lips. “Of course you haven’t forgotten Jimin’s comment.” He shook his head, his expression getting a bit more serious. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. I wasn’t always the sweet, reserved hybrid you see sitting here in front of you. I was really rebellious, even when I joined Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung.”

“A rebel?” Now you had to laugh, because you couldn’t imagine how the dark-haired wolf in front of you, with his gentle smile and soft hands, could have been so different.

“I was unbearable,” Jungkook nodded. “I thought that only loud, tough-minded hybrids made it up the food chain. And that’s how it was back then. The louder, the more popular you were with those who sat at the top.”

“Where were your owners in all of this? Did they just leave you to your own devices?”

“Not necessarily,” Jungkook replied. He avoided your gaze, but you followed his eyes with your head, making him look at you. “My first owners didn’t care about me so I eventually ran away. I got picked up pretty quickly by an organization, that’s where I met Jimin. When we were old enough, they took us to fights.”

Your heart stopped for a brief moment. One word and immediately your heart began to race. How many times had you read about it in the newspapers, seen it on the news, before your owners had been able to switch away? The secret arenas that made millions of dollars selling tickets to people who spent their free time watching living beings hurt each other. The countless hybrids who didn’t come back alive from those same fights. 

When you spoke your voice was very quiet. “Did you have to participate in one, too?” You didn’t even want to say the word. 

“One time they made me fight. That’s why I have this scar,” he pointed to his cheekbone, where a small indentation in the skin was visible. Gently, you touched it.

“Do you have any more scars?”

Jungkook shrugged as if you were talking about trifles and not a traumatizing experience. “A few, I might show them to you sometime. They’re hidden though.” He said the last sentence with a grin and before you knew it, he had planted a kiss on your forehead. “Now enough of all the negativity. I was actually trying to cheer you up, not worry you more.”

“You don’t worry me, Jungkook,” you said, “I care about you and I want to know what happened in your life before me. At least the part you want to share with me.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue and tilted his head. “That might take a while if you want me to tell my whole life story.”

You laughed and leaned forward. Jungkook caught you and wrapped you in his arms. His fingers slid through your hair and as his fingertips began to tickle the base of your ears, you let out a sigh.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” 

“Me too,” Jungkook murmured, resting his head on yours. “I think you’ll really like this place. I know some pretty good spots.”

You had to chuckle. “You know some spots, huh?” You leaned back and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Is that where you take all your dates?”

“Uh-huh.” Jungkook’s attention was no longer on your eyes, but had slid down a few inches. “All the hundreds that roam the forest here every day. Haven’t you noticed that yet?”

“Must have missed it,” you returned, subconsciously licking your lips as you noticed what Jungkook was staring at. His grip on your body tightened as his gaze followed your tongue and the wet sheen it left behind. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy, do you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said with a grin. “Maybe I do.”

Jungkook’s eyes met yours, and only now did you see how dilated his pupils were. Almost black, they stared at you before Jungkook blinked several times and the dark brown reappeared. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, squeezing your sides. “Tomorrow.” And that sounded like a promise you could hardly wait for.

. . .

Jungkook swung your clasped hands back and forth as you followed the narrow path of trampled grass through the thicket of the forest. You studied him from the side; the way his eyes roamed over the trees and bushes, his ears turned in different directions, and he took in every sound in your surroundings as he led you both through the forest. There was not a trace of uncertainty or doubt on his face, and you found it remarkable that he knew his way around so well. Even though you knew that he and the others had lived here for a few years, you still admired him for his knowledge of how to get around. 

You decided to ask him if one day he would teach you to rely more on your senses. All the years before, you had had to suppress your instincts so that they eventually withered away. But that was no longer necessary and you wanted to strengthen them again.

A twig cracked and you turned your head. Your hand wrapped a little tighter around Jungkook’s.

“Just a rabbit,” Jungkook reassured you, squeezing your hand. 

You, too, now saw the small gray tuft of fur scurry past across the path behind you. Consciously, you focused on the scent it left behind and how it mingled with that of the damp earth, wood and leaves. 

You turned back to the front and met Jungkook’s gaze. “I’m a little jumpy, sorry.”

“It’s all right, you don’t need to apologize for that. The sound of the forest can be scary at first.” He smiled. As you looked down at him, your eyes fell on the woven basket dangling from his other arm. The faint scent of freshly cut fruit, sandwiches and steaming tea had you humming softly as you continued to follow Jungkook. 

You finally came to a stop in front of a tree about half an hour’s walk from home. All around you, you saw only tree trunks, grasses, and bushes, and you wondered why Jungkook had chosen this particular spot for your picnic. 

For your first date together. 

Jungkook spread the checkered blanket on the ground and settled down on it, grinning. Then he patted the spot next to him and quickly you dropped down next to him. Laughing, Jungkook caught you. His hands stroked up and down your arms a few times before he turned and pulled the picnic basket towards you. 

“Seokjin-hyung baked fresh bread especially for us,” Jungkook said, placing different varieties of sandwiches on the blanket in front of you.

“Oh, that’s what smelled so good earlier.” 

Seokjin had blocked your view with his body when you had gotten up and came down to the kitchen. That’s why you hadn’t been able to see what he had prepared for you and Jungkook. You were even more surprised when Jungkook didn’t stop taking things out of the basket.

Fresh fruit, vegetables from the garden, a few pieces of cake, the sandwiches… even a bottle with a cloudy juice Jungkook placed in front of you.

“Apple juice from the apple harvest this year,” Jungkook explained when he saw your questioning look.

You turned the bottle around and stroked the self-written label on it, which revealed in neatly written letters what was inside. “Where did you learn all this? To take care of yourselves I mean.”

Jungkook leaned forward to look into the basket, but then put it away when he realized he had unpacked everything. “Seokjin and Namjoon had no choice but to teach themselves everything. We all acquired things so we could survive. And if I’m honest,” Jungkook said, “it’s not that hard. Gardening is even fun, and there’s something soothing about watching the plants sprout and flourish.”

“I had fun yesterday, too,” you agreed, “even though I don’t know anything about it and you had to help me a lot.”

“Oh nonsense! You were a natural.” 

Laughing, you bit into one of the sandwiches, knowing that Jungkook was just being nice to you. You still had a lot to learn, but as you listened inside of you, you found a deep peace within yourself. Because you knew that you would still have all the time in the world – as part of the pack and at Jungkook’s side. 

You had just stuffed the last bite of the cake into your mouth when Jungkook suddenly took you by the hand. “Come with me,” he said, and led you to the tree trunk that had blended inconspicuously into the rows of other trees just a few minutes before. Now, as you looked up the tree from close by, you could spot a platform at the top. 

Excitedly, you began to wag your tail. “Is that what I think it is?” With wide eyes, you looked at Jungkook, who laughed at your reaction. 

“If you think it’s a tree house, then yes.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped breathlessly, touching the bark of the tree with one hand as your gaze roamed over the branches. So many times you had tried to persuade your former owners to build a tree house in the big tree in the backyard. But after they had told you several times that this would be too dangerous for a hybrid like you, you had eventually given up. 

“Come on, what are we waiting for?” Jungkook wrapped his hands around a thick branch, then his feet followed before he maneuvered himself onto the branch with the swing of one leg. You could only stand and stare. “Let me help you,” he said as he saw your helpless look. Then he held out a hand to you, which you grasped hesitantly. “Support yourself on the branch with your other hand, and I’ll pull you up.”

His grip on your hand was firm, and as you gripped the tree trunk with your other hand, you felt weightless for a moment. Then Jungkook reached under your arms and helped you up. Your legs trembled a little as you looked down where you had been standing moments before. 

A finger slid under your chin and lifted your gaze. “Don’t look down, you’ll get dizzy.”

“And then how do we get back down?”

Jungkook made a sad face. “You don’t want to go back down already without seeing the view, do you?”

You tilted your head – the platform didn’t seem so far away anymore. Looking at Jungkook, you nodded, “Okay, but only if you help me.”

“Sure thing.” He squatted down, then looked up at you. “Ready?” 

You nodded. 

He grabbed your hips and lifted you up so you could grab the branch above you and pull yourself up with a little effort. When Jungkook was sure you had a firm footing, he followed. Like this you made your way up the next few meters until you finally arrived at the top of the tree and you no longer had branches but wooden planks under your feet. 

You took a shaky breath and leaned exhausted against the tree trunk, which grew through a hole in the floor of the platform. Only when your arms were no longer shaking with exertion did you look around. The tree house was much more of a viewing platform. A small hole next to the tree trunk was the only entrance, enclosing the platform all around was a waist-high wooden railing, so you couldn’t fall off. 

“Who built this?” you asked, taking a few steps forward so that you were standing at the railing. Any more words stuck in your throat when you saw the view. 

“Seokjin, Jimin and I,” Jungkook explained, stepping up beside you, “do you like it?”

Mouth agape, you let your gaze wander over the treetops you could see over. You could even make out the road in the distance that led to the town you had come from. The sunset bathed the green of the leaves in an orange glow and made you perceive the forest as something completely different. No longer was it eerie and gloomy, something you needed to be protected from. But something that felt familiar. Warm. Almost like home. 

You had to swallow and cleared your throat to relieve the lump in your throat. “It’s beautiful,” you croaked out. A tear ran down your cheek as you looked at Jungkook, who was already returning your gaze. He quickly wiped the tear away with his thumb. 

“I could say something really corny right now.” 

You turned to face him and immediately one hand settled on your hip while the other stroked from your cheek backwards, eventually burying itself in your hair. 

“What?” you asked when he gave no further answer. Your gaze fell to his lips before quickly darting back up. 

“I could say right now,” he began and had to clear his throat as well. For a different reason, though. “That the view isn’t as beautiful as you.”

You grimaced, pretending to be disgusted. “So that’s what kind of guy you are.”

Jungkook pulled you closer with a slight tug. “That’s the kind of guy I am,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on your lips. “Do you want to kiss me anyway?” He was so close to you by now that you could feel his breath on your face. 

“Hmm,” you said, pretending to think even though your heart was pounding up to your throat. “After that sentence, I’m not so sure.”

“At least then I won’t be able to do any more of those.” His voice was low and with each syllable you could feel the touch of his lips against yours.

“Deal.” You bridged the last millimeter until your lips were on his. Immediately he pressed himself tighter against you, so that no sheet of paper could fit between your bodies. His fingertips scraped lightly over your scalp and you sighed into the kiss. A grumble emerged from Jungkook’s chest; deep, but not at all threatening. On the contrary, you felt yourself fall into his arms and relax completely. 

Your lips moved together, his tongue exploring your mouth, fighting with yours for a moment before pulling back and dragging your lower lip with his teeth. 

Your much-too-fast breath hit Jungkook’s chin as you looked down, laughing, at your intertwined bodies. You couldn’t wait until you saw them without clothes, feeling his skin on yours. As you ran your fingers along his pecs, he shuddered. You could feel the abs under his t-shirt and paused for a moment as your fingers reached the waistband of his jeans. They played with the buckle of his belt until Jungkook’s hand gently tightened around your wrist. 

“Soon,” he promised. Then he pressed a kiss to your cheek, your temple, your forehead. Every little bit of skin on your face he explored with his lips until he reached your mouth again. His hand stroked your back; giving you the hold you needed as Jungkook intensified the kiss. His satisfied grunt sent electric shocks down the center of your body and as if on its own, you pushed your hip against his. 

You sucked in air as you felt him hard between your legs, but it wasn’t enough. Jungkook seemed to feel the same way. For a brief moment, his promise was forgotten as he let his hand wander down, gripping your butt so tightly that you gasped again, pressing your pelvis tightly against his. 

“Jungkook,” you groaned out. 

The tip of his nose tickled your temple before he murmured in your ear. “You make me completely forget myself. I’d love to take you right up here. Bend you over the railing and fuck you from behind.” He moved his hips back and then thrust forward again. You were clawing at his t-shirt by now, afraid to fall over. “But I don’t think the railing can take it.” He bit your earlobe before leaning back and your eyes met. You could see yourself reflected in his dilated pupils, see his gaze bounce back and forth between your eyes.

A breeze passed over the treetops and hit your bare arms, making you shiver. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace. His body heat helped a little, but still you couldn’t suppress the chattering of your teeth against each other. 

“We should get back,” Jungkook said, sighing. When he let go of you, you shook your head and wrapped your arms tighter around the middle of his body. “Baby…” Gently, he stroked your hair. “You’re cold, and we still have quite a walk ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to go yet,” you murmured into his chest. “I don’t want this day to end.”

He gave you one tight squeeze. “You do realize this isn’t our last date, right? We can come back here tomorrow. Or I can show you more parts of the forest. Or we can cook something together. I have countless other ideas.”

For a moment longer, you enjoyed his warmth and his body against yours before lowering your arms. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jungkook looked at you through narrowed eyes. “Well, that doesn’t sound very enthusiastic. I’m disappointed.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around yourself. It was cooling off fast, and you wished you’d brought a sweater. “I’m just jittery about the descent, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Jungkook said, “I see. That’s why you want to stay up here. And I was beginning to think it had something to do with me.”

“Idiot,” you said quietly, walking toward the hole in the ground.

“Hey!” he yelled out and ran after you. “You better be nice to me or I won’t help you down.” 

Wide-eyed, you looked at him. “You’d really just leave me up here?”

He paused before laughing, shaking his head and lowering himself down the entrance. “When you look at me like that, no way.” 

The last thing you saw was his arms stretching upward through the hole, waiting for you. 

. . .

The descent was faster than the ascent, probably because gravity came to your aid, so only a few minutes later you had packed the picnic basket, rolled up the blanket, and were walking hand in hand back the way you had come a few hours before. You thought you recognized a few distinctive places even in the twilight and were proud of yourself.

The hoot of an owl and the soft chirping of bats accompanied you and the last rays of sunlight lit your way. When these had faded away, Jungkook went ahead and led you. He warned you of every stone, every branch or bump in the ground, so that you did not even stumble once. For a short time you even closed your eyes and let yourself be led blindly by him, until you suddenly ran against his back with the tip of your nose. Because he had done something that you had not expected. 

He had stopped. 

Quickly you opened your eyes. “What’s going on? Why have we stopped? Are you lost?” you quipped. But when Jungkook didn’t answer, you noticed how tense he was in front of you. You walked around him so that you were standing next to him. “What’s wrong?” you asked again, this time panic mixed into your tone. 

Jungkook put his index finger to his lips and closed his eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his ears perk up and turn forward. You also tried to listen, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the animals and the rustling of the leaves. You could hear a whooshing sound, perhaps a nearby stream, but maybe it was just your heartbeat pumping blood through your ears. 

“Jungkook, you’re scaring me,” you whispered. You were afraid to speak out loud. 

He opened his eyes, his gaze directed into the distance among the trees. Towards the cabin, you believed.

Briefly, his eyes darted to you, “I’m not sure.” When he tried to disengage his hand from yours, you protested. Then he grabbed you by the upper arms, his expression serious. “It’s probably nothing, but I want you to stay here. I’ll go check and be back in ten minutes. I promise, okay?”

You were about to protest again when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and moved away from you. “Don’t leave me.”

He turned to you once more. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched as his dark silhouette grew smaller and smaller, blurring into the darkness of the forest sooner than you would have liked. A little longer you could listen to his footsteps, until they also disappeared. Then you began to count. Ten times to sixty. Until you had finally stretched all ten fingers from you and you still stood rooted to the spot where Jungkook had left you. Still no sound reached your ears, no Jungkook came running up to you with a grin to explain that everything was all right. 

The cold had seeped into your limbs by now, but you were shivering for a different reason. Panic rose in you as you counted to sixty ten times again and nothing happened. Uncertainly, you looked back and forth between the path behind you, the path to the tree house, and the path in front of you. 

Jungkook would never have left you alone in the forest at night. Especially not when he had promised you to be back immediately. 

You pressed your lips together to suppress the sob. Your eyes fell on the picnic basket, carelessly set down on the ground. With stiff fingers from the cold, you opened the basket and rummaged around in the darkness until your fingers finally closed around the metal. The moonlight reflected off the sharp blade of the knife Jungkook had used as a bread knife.

You took a deep breath and tried to make out the spot where Jungkook had disappeared over twenty minutes earlier and started walking. 

Written 2022. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

#hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bangtanarmynet #wolf hybrid jungkook #dog hybrid reader #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts fic #jungkook smut

[dumbificat]

‎INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙

multifandom angst prompt event.

no matter the person, no matter the place. we will all fade away. that is our ‎inevitable evanescence.

— RULES ✮⋆˙

— reblog / comment if you’re interested in joining + the character(s) you’ll be writing for (so i know how many people will be joining) ('ω') — you can reblog even if you aren’t joining -> it helps with reach, so please do !!

— work with these prompts how you like ! there are no fandom restrictions. please write for one of the following: character x reader, character x character, character x oc, any of the aforementioned but platonic.（^人^）

— no nsfw, only sfw or suggestive - if you’re unsure if your work is too much, reach out to me before you post (⌒▽⌒)

— when you post your work, please use the tag 「INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙」 + @ me ! i’ll be making a masterlist for the published works :D

— when you post, please put which prompt you’ve used - either the word or the whole thing !

— you have until june 2nd to post, but if you need more time or want to withdraw, please let me know as soon as you can ! this is voluntary and just for fun after all ٩(^‿^)۶

— if you have any questions, reach out to my inbox or on discord (also dumbificat) ^_^

PROMPTS ✮⋆˙

FADE — watching as the light fades from their eyes, muttering soft “no’s” as they weakly reach up to your face, pushing hair behind your ear for the last time.

「i’m so glad you’re here…」 「of course i am, i promised, didn’t i?」

WITHER — they’ve been in a tough battle, now they limp on the bed. you’ve been treating them with such care but it’s hard to watch as they wither away.

「hang in there, okay?」 「i’ll try. for you, i’ll try.」

WANE — (romantic) after years in a relationship, you can feel their feelings wane. they don’t look, touch or say the same things they used too. will you let them go gently or fight for what once was?

「i’ll see you later. love you.」 「do you? you can’t even say “I” before it. what, are you scared of a letter?」

DISSOLVE — having to leave, not knowing when you’ll next see each other. you share one last hug, pulling away with shuddered breaths. it takes only a moment before their resolve dissolves into a mess of tears.

「please don’t go…」 「you know i have to. if i could, i would. you know that, too.」

VANISH — it’s been days since the accident, you’ve been by their side the entire time. the beeping of the heart monitor is enough to give you strength, but a flatline was quick to make that strength vanish.

「no… no, NO! IT’S NOT FAIR!」

DWINDLE — (hanahaki disease au) your best friend sits at your side, shocked at your state. you seemed fine days ago, how could you get so ill so fast? you contemplate telling them how you feel, ruining your friendship all the while or force them to watch as you dwindle away.

「how did this happen?! please, tell me!」 「i can’t…」

DIM — you notice how their smiles are weaker, dimmer than usual. it’s clear something happened, but you don’t know how to ask. you only hope you can offer comfort, but even that might be too much.

「i can tell you’re hurting. please, talk to me.」 「…」

DECLINE — they’ve been coming home late, not responding to texts. you barely know who they are anymore. your relationship declines, culminating when they send a fatal message:

「stop messaging me, you don’t need to know where i am.」 「so i guess that’s it then?」

DEGRADE — (platonic) they started hanging out with new people, leaving you in the memories of what your friendship used to be. you work up the courage to question the degradation of what you were but that might be the last time you speak.

「leave me alone.」 「you’ve changed. im glad you’re showing your true colours now.」

EVANESCE — they hurt you. more than you could ever imagine. promises were broken, as was your heart. you can’t stop the tears when they began to yell at you.

「what the hell is your problem?!」 「i’m sorry…」 「it’s too late for that now.」

well? what are you waiting for? join now !! :D

#INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙ #multifandom #angst #event #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #prompts #angst prompts #blog event #dumbi

[undercoverpena]

HAPPY HOUR with jo 🌶️

it’s been a little while since the last one, and I thought (not taking away from how horrible things have been this week, but also to lift one another up) we could do another Happy Hour? this is our safe place to escape to, and while I can’t bring cake or flowers to everyone, I thought this is a nice way to let people celebrate/feel celebrated. so let’s have a Thursday happy hour (will continue until the asks stop). you can begin sending in now, but I’ll begin answering on Thursday 6pm BST (so lots of time to send things in).

rules:

✨ be positive

to enter happy hour, either send in:

✨ something good that happened to you this week that you want to share and celebrate

✨ share that you completed making a challenging gif set, writing a oneshot/series or creating a piece of art? send in a link, let’s eat cake over it it! (only rules for this one is that it has to be the one you’re proudest of to do date — only because there’s lots of lovely fic rec spaces and im not trying to smother over them with this)

✨ a nice message to someone you love on tumblr dot com

✨ a game you want me and you to play: fmk, would you rather

✨ share a happy thot, thot or even just an idea over characters — let’s ramble

✨ share your fave photo of pedro or ppcu character

✨ anything positive you’d love to share

and just add #HappyHour within your ask

for those that reblog, if you’re inspired to start your own, please feel free to copy my rules and guidelines, but please just link back to this/tag me so I can see all the positive! ☁️

NPTs: @thetriumphantpanda @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @psychedelic-ink @hellishjoel

@rhoorl @joelsgreenflannel @joelscruff @swiftispunk @mrsmando

@fuckyeahdindjarin @5oh5 @julesonrecord @kedsandtubesocks @imaswellkid

#jo’s happy hour ✨ #fandom fun #happy hour with jo #jo’s thoughts

[nctsworld]

10k followers... insane!!! i'm always appreciative for all the love on my gifsets, stories, and more. i know i haven't been that active in the last year or so, but i'm always around and am grateful for those who've stuck by over the years. thank you so much <3 y'all are amazing!!!

RULES:

followers only (i will accept anon messages but i'm hoping you follow me ;_;)

reblog this post (likes don't count)

send me an ask with any of the following emojis and respective specific info below

i will be taking asks/submissions until sunday, october 22nd at 11:59pm pst (pacific time)

as always, please be patient and no promises on getting everyone’s gifts done!

tagging everything with #nctsworld10k for blacklisting purposes

some of the ideas for this i've taken from this sleepover post!

gifts for you:

💚 gifset of one to three nct members

send in the names of one to three nct members and i’ll make a gifset of them!

feel free to add concepts, colours/colour palettes, videos, moments, etc. (eg. renjun + 7llin series; yangyang + xiaojun + smiling; taeil, jeno, jaemin + blue, etc.)

🎨 aesthetic archive moodboard/gifset

i will glance at your archive and blog and create a moodboard/gifset based on what i see!

optional: let me know what is your specific aesthetic if it isn’t obvious (eg. water, cities, neon lights, colours, etc.)

📖 blurb/fic request

send me one nct member, a genre or two (fluff and/or smut preferable, but i can also do angst and comedy), and any mixture of tropes/kinks/aus/prompts from this list and i’ll write a short blurb or fic!

🎵 song from my spotify list

i will put my liked songs playlist on spotify on shuffle and give you the song that comes up!

gifts for me:

🍵 confessions

confess to me something on or off anon

🤞 guess the fic 

explain one of my fics to me badly and i have to guess which one it is - here is a link to my masterlist

☀️ song recs

send me your favourite song + the artist who does it and tell me why you like it!

tagging the wonderful people who have made my time here awesome!!! special shout-outs to y'all :3

@ambivartence @baekhyuns-lipchain @baekonbaek @baekwin @dearlyminhyung @delhyun @djxiao @fadedinmysong @haechanhour @hchan @hotdogct @huangrenjuns @husbandhoshi @hyuckles-chuckles @hyuckworld @hy-ck @jae-min @jaemtens @jenodreams @jeongvision @jjsungie @lee-minhoe @leehanie @leemarkies @lunena @nakamoto @nctaezen @nctdream @nctsjaemin @neocitycafe @neoneun-au @ohoshi @potatzu @ppangjae @ressonancee @sehunniepot @taeminnomuyeppeo @uservernon @vamphaechan @winsmoke @yunogf

#nctsworld10k

[vendetta-if]

I Can Access My Account Again 💖

Hey guys! I can finally access this account again! Thankfully, the Tumblr Support actually moved fast this time and I got an email response from them saying that it was a glitch on their end and that it has been fixed.

And sure enough, I tried logging in to my old account again this afternoon and I'm in! I have exported and backed up the content of this blog and I'll continue doing so regularly from now on.

So, I'll be back answering asks and posting updates here. I'm so glad and relieved. I thought I might lose all the awesome fanarts and asks in this blog.

As for the @jscwrites blog, I'll keep it around as an account where I can blog about stuff that might not be related to Vendetta, such as talking about writing or stuff I love or enjoy. And it might be useful for when I have more than one writing projects in the future. I'll also still use it to reblog the more important posts from this blog and if anything happened again to this main account (God forbids), I’ll also be posting updates there. So, please, still drop it a follow 🥰

Also, it has been brought to my attention that my @jscwrites blog might be shadowbanned for some reason, despite it being created just last night. I saw you guys sending in asks in the new blog, but I can't see them in my inbox.

It seems I also can't message or be messaged in my jscwrites blog, and searching it on the search bar won't show my account. I have sent a support ticket to Tumblr Support regarding that, so I hope they can once again fix it swiftly. But for now, I'll be closing that blog's asks soon because I can't see all the lovely asks you guys were sending me 😭

I'll let you guys know again in an update when @jscwrites is all set up properly and I'll open the asks there. Feel free to ask me about writing process or other non-Vendetta related stuff there! Some of you guys who are in my Discord server might be aware how much I enjoy talking about other stuff with my readers as well 😊💖

Well, that's all the update I have for now. And it feels great to be able to return to this blog and start answering some asks again. Love you guys, and thank you all for the support! 🥰

#writing updates #if: vendetta #vendetta if #if vendetta #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript #choice of games #hosted games #cyoa #cyoa game #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #interactive games

[little-diable]

Little-Diable's 15k celebration

15k how fucking insane is this?! It's a number I certainly can't grasp, yet I am so insanely grateful for it. I love y'all so much, thank you for loving my writing, for loving my weird self, and for being so kind.

But enough with the sappy words, let's focus on a proper way to celebrate this milestone, shall we?

As promised this is a celebration for writers and readers (a big thank you to @deathofpeaceofmind for brainstorming with me and for designing the lovely header): here is what we'll do:

Be aware, this challenge/celebration is tied to a prize you can win.

I've chosen five of my all time favourite books, which are: The Song of Achilles, The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires, Hamlet, Lord of the Rings (all parts in one), The Last Kingdom (first part of the series).

For the writers:

Choose one of the following characters: Tommy Shelby, Dean and/or Sam Winchester, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Negan, Sihtric, Finan, Tom Riddle, Kylo Ren, Jasper Hale, Loki

Send me an ask with the character, the genre (smut, angst, fluff), and a number between 5 and 159

I'll choose one of the books listed above and will select a sentence I can find on the page belonging to the number you've chosen for your ask. You can do with the sentence/quote as you please, but it has to show up in the fic.

You'll have time to write your fic till the 10th of December 2023.

Please only write reader-insert fics, use a keep reading tag, and use appropriate warnings. It can be as dark, as angsty, as smutty, as fluffy as you want, there is no limit for the word count. You can combine this with other challenges if you want. You can also write more than one fic for this celebration.

Post the fic with #little-diable15k, message me if I don't reblog it within two days.

Since this is a challenge where you and a reader can win something, please try to actually post your fic till the 10th of December.

For the readers:

You have to actively read the stories posted for this celebration (of course only the ones you are interested in/comfortable with)

On the 11th of December I’ll post a Google doc where you’ll have time to vote for your favourite fic. The doc will be open for one week.

I'm asking you to reblog and comment the fics you enjoy, since this is tied to the prize you can win. I will also reblog every fic, so you can find them on my Tumblr as well.

Now about the prize for one lucky reader and one lucky writer:

Writers: I will list the fics you wrote in a google doc (the fics will be added on the 11th of December), where readers can vote on their favourite fics. The fic which gets the most votes is the winner of this challenge. I will contact you on Tumblr should you win, if you're comfortable with sharing your address / or a PO box with me, I'll send you a small gift; if you don't want to do this @deathofpeaceofmind will design a header for one of your fics as your prize. If there are more winners (meaning if there's a tie) we will find another prize more of you can have!

Readers: If you add your username to the google doc I can see who voted the most and who actively took part in reading. The one of you who votes the most (I will check if you did comment/reblog the fics on Tumblr), will be contacted through Tumblr, if you're comfortable with sharing your address / or a PO box with me, I'll send you a small gift; if you don't want to do this you can request a fic from me instead. If y'all are super active (which I’m hoping for!) we'll find another prize more of you can have!

I hope this is all clear and somewhat understable! I am so so excited for this, and I hope lots of you will take part in it!

Tagging some mutuals and writers/readers who may enjoy this:

@negans-lucille-tblr @writethelifeyouwant @writingliv @zablife @runnning-outof-time @notyour-valentine @springsteens @cillmequick @band--psycho @smellingofpoetry @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @earlgreydreamreplies @footballffbarbiex @thinkinghardhardlythinking @luveline @firefly-in-darkness @holylulusworld @gemini-mama @honeypiehotchner @bluetreecloud20 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @carolina-thiell

#little-diable15k #writing challenge #dean winchester smut #tommy shelby smut #loki smut #negan smut #jasper hale smut #aaron hotchner smut

[azulas-lightning-bolt]

guys I just want you to know that azula is my fav atla character (right above katara/toph/suki can you tell I like girls) but I’m actually going insane about mako right now.

also for the like,, five people who liked my last mako post please please please go look at @/jade-of-mourning’s blog. they’re so cool. they make such super awesome mako posts and his writing is really good and she also posts some stuff on ao3 so like. yeah. I’m obsessed with them.

anyway back to losing my mind over mako,, (a LOT more under the cut)

so okay I’ll admit I’m not typically a fan of angsty male characters (zuko is the exception. he’s too funny to not, and his character and development are really well done) because they all feel like copy-pastes of each other and they’re generally uninteresting.

but mako. mako is the female experience. not sure if I reposted it (as I tend to do with,, everything on here) but I saw a post talking about how what happened to mako’s character (all potential being discarded after romantic plot) is what happens to the vast majority of female characters. and as I’ve probably said at least fifty million times, he’s SO eldest daughter coded. I’m trans (they/he) but I grew up an eldest daughter and he’s like?? literally me??

as I was yapping about in a reblog—I just checked (lol) and it was in fact the post about mako having the female love interest treatment and tags about his eldest daughter syndrome—mako is somewhat made more ‘relatable’ than katara even when sending a similar message for the general audience. I think people should just be less brickheaded and appreciate my wonderful waterbending girl but mako being a guy makes people not immediately put his character into the lens of ‘ugh, dumb feminism’. (which, again, should not happen)

okay so why does this redeem him so much? I said I hate copy-paste angsty backstories meant to exacerbate a character’s edgy mysteriousness and mako is literally batman with a more violent aang for a little brother. he was basically the messiest character on the show, cheated on both his gfs with each other and fucked them up so bad they turned gay for each other (which was funny as hell of the writers by the way. his reaction to them coming out in the comics was GOLD. ik my boy was fighting back tears.) so, logically, I should hate him like 90% of the fandom, right?

well obviously 90% of the fandom HAS NOT WATCHED THE FUCKING SHOW is MISOGYNISTIC or HATES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

I have. so much to say about this.

for one. did we watch the same show. mako is one of the most selfless, hardworking, and considerate characters, which he shows multiple times—it’s a major point of his character, actually. he’s the protector, the nurturer (*cough* the eldest daughter). down to his backstory, he shielded bolin from the worst bits of the underworld as best he could while still providing. from eight years old, all alone, he provided. that’s honestly what sets mako apart from literally being Batman (lmao) and why I don’t actually mind his backstory. he was put in an impossible situation, and told to figure it out. he was given no reprieve from the extremely traumatic event of watching his parents die by the element he wields, the one that he has to learn on his own to use to protect bolin.

the other thing is that a lot of his actions are selfish in a way. he doesn’t really care much about the street rats in the same position he was once in the beginning. but even that selfishness isn’t in his own interest—it’s selfishness for the sake of bolin’s well being. one thing that really hits me hard is the brothers’ relationships with food while on the streets. I’m going to make another post about that soon because I don’t want to ramble too endlessly on here. it’s really personal because. eldest daughter who grew up poor. yeah.

second, fandom misogyny. this makes like. no sense but I swear I know what I’m talking about. okay so misogyny is about gender right? but let’s step away from the cutout copy idea of gender, like genitals or fem/masc presentation or pronouns. think of gender as a set of inherent preconceptions, ideals, or societal expectations. that’s what it is but specifying that makes more sense. mako is a dude who is referred to with he/him and he looks like a guy but he represents a girl. mako is expected to be nurturing but not overbearing. present but not annoying. a provider, but don’t ask for anything in return. mako can’t cry in front of bolin, it’s not right for a little boy to look up to someone fragile. mako needs to work, but tiredness is not allowed. don’t be overly cheerful, it’s annoying and unfitting, but too much gruffness is just haughty.

did you feel like you were reading the transcript for that scene about how hard it is to be a woman in the barbie movie? good, because that was the intention. mako, to me, represents the idea of a sibling who is forced to also be a parent, whether or not they are the eldest, and often a girl to a boy. it could be because parents are absent or dead or bad at parenting or just foolish and inattentive. mako is hated (aside from that messy ass romance plot) for almost all the same reasons as katara and that just. infuriates me. like I have this one perfect representation that reminds me of my own background (sorry katara ily and you represent my rage) while aligning with my identity and everyone is shitting on it?? fuck mako haters he’s my special boy

last point. have you never heard of character development in your lives. did you not all love Zuko’s redemption arc, and then as soon as a dumb teenager who’s never had romantic relationships fucks up JUST AS BAD AS THE OTHER TWO PEOPLE INVOLVED (sorry korrasami ily but y’all were nasty for not asking to kiss mako) you’re all like ‘unforgivable’?? like he didn’t even have a redemption arc because HE WASNT AN EVIL CHARACTER. he was a poor kid looking for a sense of stability and he fucked up. he felt bad. I don’t think any of them apologized, despite the fact one was needed all around. he grew as a character because he let himself find stability and mature before seeking someone new to use as a life raft who was already sinking themselves. I truly believe that korrasami—had it not occurred at the end of the series—wouldn’t have worked out either.

all of them were unstable and lost and scared for their lives almost constantly. that’s not a healthy place to be in to seek a relationship and they none of them were good for each other until they gave themselves time to step away from romance and heal.

anyway stan mako to not be a bigot (im unwell about him)

#mako lok #lok #tlok #legend of korra #mako tlok #mako

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Ryo’s Gun & Jane Austen

It’s hard to see, but in the OP Ryo’s gun (and it is Ryo’s gun, I made the mistake in a previous post of thinking it was Kazuki’s, whoops! But I have noted that correction in a reblog, so definitely check that out - I’ll link it below) has a quote on it from, what Google is telling me, is Jane Austen. The quote is:

I want nothing but death.

Those were her last words. 

Seeing those last words on Ryo’s gun in the OP with the current situation and the Episode 11 preview and everything - it can certainly seem scary. 

But, I’m going to focus a bit on Jane Austen as a writer, what her styles and themes are, and what that might mean for Buddy Daddies or how it might be reflected in Buddy Daddies. Since Kazuki’s VA did mention that we should think about what message the director is sending in this last act.

So, let’s take a look. I think the main two ways that Jane Austen’s style and themes can be seen in Buddy Daddies, is how her writing was considered realism and with a lot of emphasis being placed on “the everyday” that was accompanied by comedy:

Text: Jane Austen's (1775–1817) distinctive literary style relies on a combination of parody, burlesque, irony, free indirect speech and a degree of realism. She uses parody and burlesque for comic effect and to critique the portrayal of women in 18th-century sentimental and Gothic novels. Austen extends her critique by highlighting social hypocrisy through irony; she often creates an ironic tone through free indirect speech in which the thoughts and words of the characters mix with the voice of the narrator. The degree to which critics believe Austen's characters have psychological depth informs their views regarding her realism. While some scholars argue that Austen falls into a tradition of realism because of her finely executed portrayal of individual characters and her emphasis on "the everyday", others contend that her characters lack a depth of feeling compared with earlier works, and that this, combined with Austen's polemical tone, places her outside the realist tradition.

(From the Wikipedia Article on her style, which will be linked to below).

We see aspects of this with Buddy Daddies. In Episode 4 we have a critique being made about the ridiculous levels of paperwork and prep work that needs to go into sending a kid to daycare.

While we get depictions of everyday aspects like Kazuki cleaning or Rei and Miri playing games together. 

Another aspect of Jane Austen’s writing style is about character’s growing to become “better” and more moral versions of themselves.

Text:  Her plots are fundamentally about education; her heroines come to see themselves and their conduct more clearly, and become better, more moral people. While Austen steers clear of the formal moralizing common in early-19th-century literature, morality—characterized by manners, duty to society and religious seriousness—is a central theme of her works. Throughout her novels, serious reading is associated with intellectual and moral development.

We see that happening in Buddy Daddies as well, through scenes like Rei’s thoughts on how he just mindlessly killed in the past:

Or with the discussion and prevalence on change:

There are other elements and themes to her writing as well, like the focus on women, of course. But I don’t think we can really speak on that aspect too much until the series is said and done. 

Of course, the quote is likely also there due to Ryo’s curiosity with death, final words, and the reason for why humans exist. But, I would like to think that this quote wasn’t picked solely for that reason either.

Also, I’m not super well versed in Jane Austen stuff (I know some of my moots are though! Though I don’t know how versed they might be with Buddy Daddies), but if anyone who is more versed with her as a person and her works wants to chime in or add to this (or correct me on anything I may have gotten wrong!) please feel free to do so in a reblog, comment or even in the tags. I always love to see what others write or contribute to the conversation! <3

#Buddy Daddies #BD #Jane Austen #KazuRei #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Ryo Ogino #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers #long post #image heavy post #meta post #analysis #themes