#he might not be there the next time I visit I'm glad I got to see him today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

selineram3421 · 2 months

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Well I just read you newest story about y/n being Husker's younger sibling. Especially how much focus there was on Al just wanting to piss him off.

So if I might suggest: Alastor with a y/n who's Charlie's sibling/Lucifer's child. Seriously we saw him already losing it when all claimed to see a daughter figure in Charlie...Al flirting, etc. with a different child might actually kill him.

Anyway I love your work, keep it up ^-^

- 🖤

*cackles like an insane person*

Royally Pissed

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ reader is blonde for obvious reasons, cussing, mention of depression, angry short King ⚠

Lucifer treasured his children.

Of course he messed up at times, not every parent is perfect. Though he does regret not seeing his children all that often.

Charlie was doing something. Somewhere.

Shit, that sounds bad.

And you would come by and check up on him every so often.

While Charlie looked like him, she had her mother's height. You looked more like Litlith..but had his shortness.

Of course you were adorable!

His littlest one, born a few seconds after Charlie. Twins that came out like opposites in looks but similar in some ways.

He gifted you a rubber duck for every birthday. One that had a tutu, one that had multiple eyes, one that had a built in music box, one that had a jester hat, one that honked like a goose, one that-

Ok, it was a lot.

But you loved his duckies! You even had bookshelves just for them!

Currently you were with him in the castle. Or more like you being in the other room while he was working on another duck.

Then he got a phone call from Charlie.

"Daughter. Daughter calling!", he said in surprise.

After talking about Heaven and a bit about the hotel, he got excited when she said for him to come see the hotel for himself.

"My daughter wants to see me~!", he sang before pointing at a duck on the floor. "Take that depression!"

"Dad?", he heard you call out, finding you opening the door. "Do you want lunch now?", you asked.

Lucifer cheered out your name and grabbed your hands before twirling you around. "Charlie called! She invited me to her hotel thingy!"

"Oh, that's nice.", you said. "I hope you have fun."

"You can come too!", he stopped the twirling. "We'll all get to hang out again!"

You smiled and agreed.

"Great! We've got to be there in an hour!", he says before letting you go to skip out of the room.

Staying put, you glance at the rubber duck filled room with slight worry.

"It wasn't this bad last time.."

You stood behind your father as you both waited for the doors to open.

It's been a while since you last saw Charlie, it being around a few months. Looking around you can see she cleaned up the building quite well. It was more broken down when it first appeared on the news when she pitched her idea.

I'm glad she's doing well. You thought before hearing the door.

"Charlie!", your dad said with a wide smile, holding his arms open.

"Hey Dad.", your sister waved before getting glomped with a tight hug. "Uh..it's uh, good to see you too Dad.", she said before having to push him off to breathe.

Then she noticed you, saying your name in excitement.

"I would have done more if I knew you were coming to visit too!", she said and brought you into the hotel by your hand.

"No, you don't have to worry. I'm sure what you have is enough.", you reassured as you followed her in.

From the corner of your eye, you saw two demons right next to the door. On your right there was someone in red and turned your head to see a tall deer demon. Looking to your left, you saw a woman with long white hair and an X over her eye.

"Hello..", you waved with a shy smile.

Alastor glared down at the King as soon as the short man barged into the hotel.

How could that be more powerful than me? He thought as his eye twitched.

Then Charlie pushed her father off and excitedly greeted someone outside, grabbing their hand to bring them in.

His eyes widened at the smaller version of Lilith.

"Hello..", they waved shyly at everyone in the room.

And then the little cat that the Princess had walked over to greet the two.

"Kiki!", the two blondes kneeled down to pet the one-eyed feline.

After walking around, Lucifer commented on the bar, so Alastor teleported closer before speaking up.

"Just some of the renovations we had done!", he pointed at the bar with his microphone staff. "Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?", he said before facing the King.

He teleported even closer to the Kind and introduced himself after the monarch questioned who he was, shaking the apple cane instead of the King's hand.

As soon as the deer demon let go, he wiped his hand on his coat.

"You are much shorter in real life.", he said pinching his fingers a bit, emphasizing how small the blonde man was.

"Who is this? Who is this?", Lucifer asked and turned to his daughter once seeing her walk over. "Is this the bellhop?", he asked her.

"Aha! No!", Alastor said before fixing his bow. "I am the host of the hotel! You might of heard of me from my radio broadcasts."

"Hm. Nope!", the King pretended to think before dusting off his sleeve. "Maybe it's why Charlie calls it the HAZBIN hotel! Ah ha ha!", he nudges his daughter with his elbow.

"Ha ha ha!", the deer tilts his head at every short laugh that left his mouth before looking at his claws with a knowing smile. "It was actually my idea."

"Ah haha! Well it's not very clever!", the blonde replied leaning forward a bit.

"Ah ha!", the Radio demon laughed loudly before leaning down to meet the King's gaze. "Fuck you.", he said very clearly, static only in the background.

"OK!", Charlie pushed the two away. "Ok! Anyway!", she said as the two looked away from each other. "Dad!", she turned to her father.

While the two were occupied, he saw the small Lilith looking Morningstar talking with the others, wearing a bright smile as they laughed.

He focused back on the conversation when the Princess said his name.

"We wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.", she said and the two blondes turned to face him.

"Charlie has a very unique vision!", he said with his usual smile as he walked over. "I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests!", he places a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Thank you Alastor.", the blonde smiled, feeling happy.

He noticed the way Lucifer hated it, and calmly smiled.

"Quite an impressive young lady.", he said and tilted the Princess's head up a bit with his hand before moving his claws back to himself. "We're all very proud of her.", he says and places an arm around her shoulder, pushing her a little close.

Having enough, the King cleared his throat.

"Charlie! Dear.", he said before pushing between the two, getting them separated. "Why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends!", he pointed towards the group with his end of his staff.

"Oh! Yes, of course!", Charlie said and began introducing Vaggie to her father.

Then someone got his attention with a tap on his arm.

Snapping his head towards the person, he saw the Lilith look alike move their hand back.

"Oh, I apologize. I called out to you but got no response.", they said with a bit of a frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset?", he questioned, still wearing his smile.

"Yes, you furrowed your brows a bit when I tapped you.", the small blonde gestured with their finger.

How observant..

"No, I am not upset at all!", he gave a quick closed eyed smile. "And your name is..?"

"Oh, I'm-"

And then they were interrupted when the chandelier fell.

This was supposed to be a oneshot but then I remembered how detailed this would have to be.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

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gargoy-ross · 2 months

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The Vees with a s/o that likes to crochet + how they'd react if you gift them a plush of you two holding hands

First time posting on Tumblr, I know these are probably ooc. Gn reader, a bit suggestive on Val's. That's all, enjoy :)

Vox

Vox doesn't really understand your hobby, but hey, whatever makes you happy. Besides, he loves it when you run to him all giddy and exited to show off your latest creation. He'll let you sit on his lap while you crochet and he works. Just make sure your yarn doesn't get tangled up in the wires...

Giving him the plush

Keeping the gift as a surprise was hard, this man has cameras everywhere, but somehow you managed. And you're quite proud of yourself for that too. Now you're sitting in his office, waiting for him to get back from the meeting. You glance at the clock - it should end right about now.

As if on cue, Vox opens the door and as it slams shut you hear the most tired and annoyed sigh from him.

"Bad time?" You ask.

He shakes his head at the question. "Just a shitty meeting," He practically falls into his chair, "and an even shittier day."

He raises his brows and the annoyance is gone in an instant. "What's that for, doll?"

"I made this. For you." You smile awkwardly as you pass the box to him.

Vox carefully lifts the lid and takes the plush out. He examines it as if he wasn't quite sure what it was. The expression on his screen is unreadable, and his voice quieter than usual.

"You made this? You made... us?"

You nod and Vox's expression softens. He has already forgotten the stress from earlier.

"It's adorable. Thanks doll."

He smiles. Not the business man smile or the TV host smile, a genuine smile.

Valentino

Val thinks it's a waste of time. Why would you sit there, making stupid knots instead of, I don't know, spending time with him?! But, like Vox, if it makes you happy, he'll tolerate it.

Giving him the plush

You decide to present him with the plush one night after he's done with filming. So there you sit, on the couch in one of the backrooms in his studio, nervously fiddling with the gift. When Valentino steps in to the room he's surprised to see you. You don't usually spend time at the studio.

He's voice is ever so sultry when he addresses you. "Well hello sweetheart. Didn't know you were waiting for me." He then notices what your holding and snatches the plush from your hands, a teasing smile on he's face as he toys with it. "Oh my, what's this darling?"

You stand up. He cocks his head, making sure to hold the plush out of your reach.

"It's a gift. I though I'd be nice to give you something."

He's grin widens and he lifts your chin up with one of his hands. "Not exactly my style of a toy, but thank you sweetheart."

Velvet

Velvet would most be the most tolerant towards your yarn hording habits. She doesn't mind, as long as you keep your stuff separate from hers. If you have the talent, she might design accessories which she'll ask you to crochet for her. And, if you agree to it, she will make you a Sinstagram to show off all your creations.

Giving her the plush

Velvet is on her break when you decide visit her studio to give her the gift. You've put the plush in a gift bag hoping it wouldn't raise questions from her employees. While you don't think they'd make fun of you, you know how important the public appearances of you two were for Velvet.

It doesn't take long for you to find her, scrolling on her phone as she picks at her lunch. "I didn't know you were stopping by babe."

"I figured you'd be on your break about now." You say, handing her the bag. "This is for you."

She wastes no time taking the plush out. "Aww, you made us hold hands. It's adorable." She turns it around in her hands examining all the little details you've made. "You even got my outfit on point." She then leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad you liked it."

She has to soon get back to work, her collections need to be perfect for the next show, so you bid your goodbyes. Later that day you get a notification from your Sinstagram that you've been tagged on a post. You can't help but smile when you see the photo Velvet had posted to show off the plush.

#vox x reader #velvet x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #the vees x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino

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itsharleystuff · 9 months

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↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

Gif not mine! | Read part two here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)

— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.

Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.

So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.

Joel Miller.

Joel mother-fucking Miller.

Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.

You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.

"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."

"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."

"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."

You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.

That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.

Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.

Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.

It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.

You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.

"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"

"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"

You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"

"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.

"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."

"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.

"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."

"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."

"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."

"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"

She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.

"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"

The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

Breathtaking.

"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.

"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.

"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."

"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.

"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"

"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"

The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.

"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."

You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.

"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.

"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."

"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."

Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."

You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.

'Righteous', you'd called him.

But he isn't so much. No man ever is.

In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.

"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.

With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"

"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"

"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."

"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"

"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."

"Can I expect to see her later, too?"

Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.

So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.

(...)

When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.

Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.

You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.

After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.

"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"

He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.

"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.

"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile.

"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."

"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."

Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—

"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.

"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"

"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."

"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.

"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."

They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.

He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.

"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."

"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"

"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."

"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.

"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.

"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.

"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.

"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"

His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.

"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”

Joel noticed.

"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."

Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.

"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"

"Boring. You know the drill."

"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.

"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.

You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"

"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."

A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."

Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"

"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."

"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."

With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"

"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."

"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."

"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.

A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.

He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.

"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.

"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."

With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.

"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.

"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."

He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.

"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.

If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.

"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.

"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."

It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.

"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.

"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.

"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.

"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"

His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.

"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference.

"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."

You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"

The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."

His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."

He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.

"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."

"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."

"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase."

"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"

"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."

His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"

The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.

"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."

He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.

The question is: will he take the bait?

"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.

"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.

"I think you are, sweetheart."

The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"

"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."

"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.

He doesn't buy it.

"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"

"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."

"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"

Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.

But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.

"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."

His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."

You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"

He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.

"M'not sure," he huffs.

It's true. He doesn't know anymore.

Your cig has burned out.

"I think you are, Mr. Miller."

Oh, such a clever girl indeed.

Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.

"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."

Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.

"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."

Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.

But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.

For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.

He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.

Something about you bewitched him.

Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.

For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.

That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?

"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.

His cigarette has burned out too.

"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."

If Joel were a better man, he would've.

He definitely should have.

"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."

He'd be damned.

No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.

Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.

"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.

"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"

You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.

"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."

"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"

It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

Music to his ears.

He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.

You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.

Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.

"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.

"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."

His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.

"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."

"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.

His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."

"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."

His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.

"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."

His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.

Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.

"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"

You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."

He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.

"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.

A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.

"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."

"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.

"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.

He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.

"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.

Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.

"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."

You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.

"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.

His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails.

The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.

He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.

You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.

"Joel-"

"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."

Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"

Did he even need to ask?

"Yes- god. Please..."

It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.

"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.

He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.

Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.

The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.

"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.

His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.

He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.

It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.

If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.

"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"

Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.

It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.

"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."

You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.

"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"

"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”

And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.

Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.

He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.

Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.

Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.

Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.

None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #dbf!joel

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granaidh · 5 months

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Hi! I hope you're doing well, and thank you for writing! Could you please write a little something for Lando where the reader is also a driver (but not his teammate) and she got into a big accident at the last gp of the year and it's taken her quite some time (like a few months) to get better, so she has to miss out on the whole next season of racing. A bunch of the drivers have visited her, but Lando hasnt , bc they had a fight before the last gp and also they were both unsure of what kind of relationship they had (like kind of friends but with soft touches, longing gazes, but no guts to make a move). And he finally decides to visit her while she's away on a retreat for her mental health or smth. I long for angst, but it can go and end in which ever way you'd imagine. Thank you!

mistakes — lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: lando doesn't think before he speaks, and it quickly becomes apparent that he might be too scared to fix it.

warnings: serious injury to reader but not heavily described, casual sexism from lando, bit of angst

a/n: i'm actually proud of this at 2am but I'm sure when I reread it i'll be ashamed

The smell of flowers began to become sickly after a while. You’d never known that before. But as the small private hospital room overflowed, your senses were under constant assault to the point your head began to spin, and your nostrils burned day in and day out. You tried to push the frustration away, noting the flowers were from your friends and coworkers, with beautiful cards stacked up on the sterilised table next to you.

You sighed gently; you really were overreacting; they helped the room feel alive through your recovery, even if it left a bitter taste in your mouth. The orchids from George created a beautiful arch with their stem resting next to Alex’s arrangement of blue hydrangeas; you suspect Logan snuck his name on the bottom of the card, allowing yourself a light exhalation of air in humour at the flustered American, not wanting to overstep your very casual relationship. Lewis’s bouquet of peonies made your lip quiver lightly, while Fernando’s succulent calmed you down and reminded you of the practical nature of the Spanish man who taught you so much.

All the arrangements from coworkers you greeted so often, even if you weren’t close, made the tears well in your bottom lashes, fighting to keep the emotions at bay as you read the card definitely written by Susie from both herself and Toto wishing you all the best in your speedy recovery and return the track in the following season.

If you wanted to take one good thing from your crash, at least it was at the last race, your job fulfilled for the season, allowing you plenty of time to rot away in a hospital bed in Switzerland, far away from Milton Keynes and the extensive expectations placed on you.

Your phone flashed, a text from your teammate affectionately named in your phone ‘max v’ not to be confused with ‘max f’ or the mysterious just ‘max’ who you couldn't remember ever having in your phone. The photo was of himself, Daniel, Yuki and Christian dressed to the nines at the factory dinner. The accompanying text made you giggle, as most things from your Dutch teammate did.

“Don’t let my smile fool you, and I’m so close to ruining every sponsor this team has out of pure rage; I’ll take the blame if we have no seat next year. This suit is too tight, and if one more person asks me where you are thinking that I’m gonna give a scoop. I’m going to strangle them the way I should’ve strangled Ocon when I got the chance all those years ago. Even Daniel can’t make me feel better; I miss you being here. You would’ve judged people with me, gtg Christian barking orders again.”

You were glad Max was dealing with the dinner and not you. You last saw him a couple days ago. He dropped in with Daniel, completing your collection of flowers before forcing you to be sandwiched between them on your bed to watch a movie, finally allowing yourself to be reminded of everyday life as the two bickered and fought for a remote over your body. You didn’t stay awake for long.

The final delivery of flowers had been delivered by a charming Sebastian Vettel, who dropped in cuts of native flowers that he had brought specifically for you on his property, tied together with a repurposed ribbon from a gift you had given him years ago. However, there was a noticeable absence in the gifts surrounding you.

George arrived with Alex first, Logan trailing behind them, adding seeing you in a hospital bed to the third conversation you’d had outside of greetings. Then Bottas and Zhou with an accompanying Lewis. Fernando arrived with Oscar, allegedly heading back to the UK together afterwards. Toto dropped his flowers off at reception as you were asleep, and Yuki came with Pierre, followed by Lance and Esteban, and then Charles, who insisted on staying and catching up. Then Carlos, strangely followed by the dads of the grid, Nico and Kevin, who were far more concerned about your injuries than you expected. However, one substantial absence stood out to you.

Lando.

You knew you hadn’t left on the best of terms, but you didn’t expect him to not visit you at all. You had been in rehab, both physical and mental, for nearly two weeks now, with everyone managing to check in on you despite their busy schedules except Lando. Your crash hadn’t been pretty sure; slamming into a tire wall at 60g, passing out in the car, and getting hauled out of the upside-down chassis before getting rushed to the hospital wasn’t the best final display following your argument, but not enough to ignore you. He hadn’t even caused the crash. It was a racing incident between you and Carlos; neither of you could have avoided it; you just copped the heavier burden.

You underwent a battery of medical examinations, each a journey into uncertainty. In the X-ray room, the stark images of fractured bones mirrored the ache you felt, tangible evidence of the crash's impact. Inside the MRI chamber, the steady hum enveloped you, the machine's relentless probing revealing the hidden aftermath of the collision. It seemed to echo the pounding of your heart, a nervous symphony amidst the mechanical rhythms. Doctors' questions were like peeling layers, seeking not just physical wounds but the unseen injuries etched within. Each test marked a step toward understanding, painting a complex picture of recovery where visible injuries and unseen scars intertwined. Each evaluation was a mix of relief and apprehension, providing answers that formed a path to healing, a trail marked by uncertainty yet holding the promise of recovery.

The specialists' meticulous evaluations probed deeper into the fractures, soft tissue damage, and the corridors of your mind. Psychologists gently unravelled the knots of emotional trauma, exploring the depths of your psyche, where the crash had left its indelible mark. Their questions felt like delicate hands reaching into the recesses of your thoughts, seeking to mend the fragments of your peace. The psychological assessments uncovered the whispers of anxiety and the haunting spectre of post-traumatic stress, remnants of the crash that lingered within you. Every test result felt like a double-edged sword—confirmation of injuries and a roadmap toward recovery. The prognosis painted a journey marked by rehabilitation, a marathon of physical therapy, and a parallel track of counselling to tend to the unseen wounds.

Yet amidst the medical jargon and clinical assessments, a flicker of hope persisted—the assurance that eventually Lando would show up, flash that smile and quell all the horrible things you had both said before the race start. You grimaced at the memory.

The bustling paddock echoed with the symphony of mechanics preparing the cars, but amidst the controlled chaos, you and Lando engaged in your usual banter. Your race suits wrapped around your waists, both slowly hydrating before race preparation fully began. Your words, initially playful, began to bear the weight of deep insecurities.

“You seem pretty nervous, worried you’re not going to see the finish line again?” He smiled, his head tilted, eyelashes fluttering, not afraid to push your buttons at any given chance.

However, his teasing smirk faltered as your words struck a raw nerve. "At least I'm consistent, unlike someone. Your results have been all over the place all season, let alone your qualifying.”

The playful atmosphere shifted, an undercurrent of frustration tainting Lando's response. "Consistently average, you mean? You talk a lot for someone who hasn't even seen a world championship title in the absolute rockets Redbull have been building; your teammate will always outperform you.."

Your smile wavered, stung by the barb. "You're one to talk, Mr. 'Lando NoWins’' every season. Maybe if you stopped focusing on social media and YouTube content, you'd actually win something."

The words hung in the air, a charged silence enveloping them. Then, in a moment of unchecked frustration, Lando's retort cut through the atmosphere like a blade, "Maybe you should listen to the folks who say women don't belong in F1."

Your eyes widened in disbelief, hurt etching lines across your features. A heavy silence engulfed you both, the weight of Lando's words causing an irreparable breach in your banter. The unintentional insult lingered, an unexpected wound that pierced deeper than you initially intended.

You felt the sting of Lando's words like a visceral blow, the hurt and frustration twisting inside you. You turned on your heel, striding back toward your team garage without a comment. Your footsteps echoed loudly against the paddock floor, a resolute rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart, blood rushing to your ears. Ignoring the concerned glances of your crew, you brushed past, focus singular—preparing for the race ahead. The air hummed with an electric intensity as you suited up, the layers of protective gear around your face against the emotional turmoil swirling within, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

There was a steely determination etched on your face as you tightened the straps of your helmet, shutting yourself into a cocoon of concentration. The roar of the engines outside became your anchor, drowning out the echoes of the hurtful exchange. Silent and resolute, you climbed into the car, the cockpit becoming a sanctuary. Your jaw set in determination, you flicked switches and adjusted controls with precision, shutting out the world beyond the confines of the racing machine. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, now held a fierce resolve as you rolled out of the garage, the determination to deliver a race that would drown out the hurt, speaking louder than any words you could utter. You sighed raggedly, the memory taunting you as you shakily stood up to make your way to your therapist's office, looking forward to speaking about how everything had played out.

"You know, doc, I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could handle the pressure, the banter, the camaraderie. But that day, everything shattered. Every hurtful word was a crack in the facade I'd built. I thought I was tougher, stronger, but it turns out I'm just… human."

You sat in the therapist's office, the weight of Lando's words still heavy on your heart. The echo of that conversation on the track had ricocheted into every corner of your mind, leaving a maze of emotions you struggled to navigate.

"I wanted to prove him wrong, to prove everyone wrong. But those words... they cut so deep. It wasn't just a simple jab. It was everything I've fought against, the doubts, the stereotypes, all laid bare in a single sentence by someone I trusted."

Your therapist, a comforting presence amidst the storm within, listened attentively, offering a reassuring nod.

"I geared up for the race, determined to drown out the pain, to prove I was more than what he said. But as I sat there, strapped into the car, I realized I wasn't racing against the others anymore. I was racing against myself, against those doubts that suddenly felt louder than the roaring engines."

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of frustration and vulnerability, emotions you'd kept at bay for too long now threatening to spill over.

"I wanted to prove that I could compartmentalize, that I could shove aside the hurt and focus on the race. But I couldn't, and it scared me. It was like I was driving blind, my mind clouded by everything he said."

The therapist's gentle gaze conveyed empathy, a silent encouragement to continue pouring out the tangled emotions.

"And now, they won't clear me. They say I'm not in the right headspace, that I need another week. But what if a week isn't enough? What if I can't shake off these doubts? What if I'm not strong enough to brush off those words and just race?"

The vulnerability in admitting these fears felt raw and exposed. The therapist's reassuring words offered a lifeline, a beacon of hope amidst the storm.

"I just... I want to race, to prove I belong here. But right now, I don't even know if I believe it myself."

The confines of his Monaco apartment felt suffocating, the glossy exterior a facade that failed to shield him from the turmoil. Lando's fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on the polished surface, a restless manifestation of his internal conflict.

The memory of their heated exchange replayed in his mind like a relentless loop, each word a shard that pierced through the armour of his racing persona. He had always navigated the paddock with ease, charming smiles and quick wit masking the tumult of emotions that roiled beneath the surface. But with your absence, the mask had slipped, revealing a vulnerability he hadn't reckoned with.

Regret clawed at him, a persistent ache in the pit of his stomach. "I should've been there," he muttered, the weight of those words heavy on his conscience. The realisation of not being by your side during your most vulnerable moments gnawed at him, a pang of gnawing guilt that begged for resolution. The retreat, whispered about in hushed tones among the racing circles, stood as a sanctuary amidst the chaos—a refuge where you sought solace for your fractured spirit. It beckoned to Lando like a beacon, a chance for redemption in the quiet comfort of nature.

The decision simmered within him, a tumultuous blend of apprehension and resolve. It wasn't solely about seeking forgiveness but an acknowledgment—a reckoning with the depth of his feelings that he'd buried beneath layers of uncertainty. As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting hues of amber across the harbour, Lando made a choice. He would seek you out, traverse the distance to where you had found peace, and confront the storm he'd helped brew.

The journey to the retreat felt like a pilgrimage, each mile an introspective passage into the recesses of his own heart. With each passing mile, the layers of bravado peeled away, revealing a vulnerability he'd long kept shielded. The serene setting of the retreat, a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled tracks you had both grown accustomed to, seemed to mirror the quiet turmoil within him. The rustling leaves whispered of a chance for redemption, a fragile hope that clung to the edges of his conflicted heart.

Steeling himself, Lando walked the pathways to where you were staying. Each step felt like an echo of his hesitation, a testament to the emotional weight he carried. The consequence of his absence, the depth of his regret, and the burgeoning realisation of his feelings surged within him, propelling him forward.

The serene sanctuary of the retreat wrapped around you like a comforting shroud, nature’s symphony a balm to the chaotic discord within yourself. The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of soft pinks and fiery oranges, casting a serene hue over the landscape. Into this tranquil setting stepped an unexpected interruption—Lando. His sudden appearance punctured the peaceful bubble, jolting a concoction of emotions within you—shock mixed with uncertainty and a flicker of hesitant hope. As your eyes met, the unspoken weight of past conversations seemed to hang thick in the air.

"Hey," Lando's voice, typically confident, now bore a tremor of hesitation, an attempt to break through the thick blanket of silence.

"Hi," your response carried a symphony of emotions—guarded hope woven with the remnants of hurt and unresolved tension. The atmosphere crackled with an awkwardness so palpable it felt suffocating, a thick fog between you two. It was as if the tranquillity of the retreat intensified the discomfort, amplifying the awkwardness to an almost unbearable level.

"I... I'm sorry," Lando's words stumbled out, laden with regret. "For what I said. It was out of line. I was... I was frustrated, but that's no excuse." His apology seemed to echo in the quietude, each word a jarring note in the serene backdrop—a fragile bridge amidst the uncomfortable silence.

"It hurt," you confessed, the echoes of his words still ringing painfully. "It felt like everything I've fought against in my career was thrown back at me in that moment by the person I trusted the most." Lando's composure softened his admission, a mixture of regret and helplessness.

"I didn't mean it. I let my own insecurities cloud my judgment. And I should've been there for you, especially when you needed support." The admission felt like a rock lifting off your chest, yet the tension remained, wrapped tight around every word.

"I know. It's been tough, not just physically, but emotionally too," you admitted each syllable a struggle against the thickening tension. "I wanted you here but didn't know if I was ready to confront this." The confession lingered in the air, a painful echo amidst nature's serenity—a tentative step in the sad dance of awkwardness and unresolved emotions you were both partaking in. In the peaceful surroundings, amidst the beauty of nature's embrace, a strained encounter unfolded—a painfully awkward ballet of discomfort and unease, each word thick with the weight of past hurt and unspoken feelings.

Amidst the exchange, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees as if nature sought to alleviate the tension between you both. Now, a mere sliver above the horizon, the sun cast elongated shadows that danced across the landscape. You invited him in, allowing him to sit on the lounge. Lando's gaze softened, a silent plea evident in his eyes. "I've regretted my words since they left my mouth. They were careless, thoughtless..."

Your heart clenched at his vulnerability, his voice's rawness echoing your internal struggle. "I know," you replied softly, the hardness in your tone softening. "But it's not just about those words. The silence followed the absence when I needed someone." The weight of unspoken apologies hung between you, heavy yet fragile. It was as though the air crackled with the energy of unresolved emotions seeking solace in the tranquillity of the retreat.

"I should've been there," Lando confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "I let my own doubts cloud my judgment, and I failed you."

The admission was a tiny fissure in the wall of tension, a sliver of understanding breaking through the emotional barrier. "It's been hard," you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment embracing you. "I needed you, not just physically, but emotionally." The words lingered, suspended in the air, a fragile bridge attempting to span the chasm that had grown between you. The sun dipped further, casting a golden glow that seemed to infuse the charged atmosphere with a faint sense of hope. As the silence stretched, the symphony of nature resumed its soothing melody, offering a backdrop to the tentative reconciliation taking root amid the serene setting—a delicate beginning to healing wounds that ran deep.

Lando shifted, his features etched with a blend of remorse and determination. "I want to make it right, if you'll let me," he implored, the vulnerability in his words echoing the sincerity in his eyes.

Your heart wavered, torn between the ache of past hurt and the flicker of a desire for resolution. "I don't know if I can just forget everything," you admitted, the weight of uncertainty evident in your voice. The rustling leaves provided a natural rhythm to the conversation, a gentle reminder that even in discomfort, a cadence existed to life's complexities.

"I don't expect you to forget," Lando responded earnestly, a note of conviction underlying his words. "But I hope, in time, I can earn your forgiveness." The sincerity in his plea was palpable, a fragile bridge extending across the chasm of hurt. You searched his eyes, seeking reassurance, a sign that the rift between you could be bridged.

"I need time," you whispered the words, a plea for patience and understanding. A tentative truce hung between you—a silent agreement to navigate the path towards healing, acknowledging the wounds but willing to embark on the journey toward reconciliation. The symphony of nature continued, a reminder that harmonies were waiting to be rediscovered amidst life's dissonance.

The air hung heavy with even more unspoken words, the weight of past hurt and hesitation thickening the silence between you both. But amidst the tranquillity of the retreat, a fragile shift began to unfold—a faint glimmer of understanding breaking through the cloud of discomfort. Lando's gaze continued to soften, a silent plea for forgiveness and reconciliation mirrored in his eyes. "I want to make it right more than anything."

The tension seemed to dissolve, the air clearing as you felt the walls around your heart soften. "I... I want to try, too."

He closed the distance with hesitant steps, each movement tentative yet resolute. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, pulling you into an embrace that felt like a homecoming—a silent promise of healing and renewal. "Forgive me," Lando's voice was a whisper against your ear, each word carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Tears threatened to spill as you buried your face in his chest, a mix of relief and vulnerability flooding over you. "I want to, Lando. I really do." In that moment, amidst the tranquil backdrop of the retreat, the barriers crumbled, leaving behind an outpouring of emotions too long-suppressed.

"I love you," he confessed, the words a melody of earnestness and devotion. "More than I ever knew was possible." The confession was a key, unlocking the floodgates of your own feelings.

"I love you too," you admitted each syllable, an echo of admiration and affection. "More than words could ever express." In a tender embrace, you found solace—a silent understanding that transcended the hurtful past. The kiss that followed was an affirmation, a sweet promise of starting anew—a union of hearts, mended and strengthened amidst the serenity of the retreat.

Lando made your food as you sat on the counter in the secluded haven of the retreat, time seeming to slow as you stood facing each other, a tapestry of emotions woven into the fabric of your comfortable shared silence. The fading sunlight casts a golden hue over the landscape, mirroring the warmth blossoming within you.

"I've missed this," Lando confessed softly, his voice hinting at vulnerability.

Your heart ached with longing as you met his gaze. "I've missed you too, Lando."

Your hesitance dissipated as Lando closed the distance, drawn to you by an invisible thread of shared history and unspoken promises. The tranquillity of the retreat cradled your tentative reunion, an embrace of renewal amidst the quietude of nature. "I've been a fool," Lando murmured, his regret palpable in the softness of his touch along your thighs.

Your defences continued to soften, a flicker of hope kindling within you. "I've been waiting for you." Your embrace deepened, a mutual understanding evolving with each shared breath. It was a moment of reconciliation, of letting go of past grievances and embracing the promise of a future together.

"I've loved you endlessly," Lando's admission was fervent, filled with a determination to make amends. Tears glistened in your eyes, a testament to the depth of your emotions. "I've never stopped loving you."

Your lips met in a tender kiss—a blend of forgiveness, yearning, and a silent vow to rewrite your story. It was a kiss that spoke of redemption, a reunion that promised to rewrite the script of their relationship. In the quiet whispers and the gentle caresses, you found solace—a shared resolve to nurture the love you’d reignited amidst the serene embrace of your retreat. As the tranquillity enveloped you both, the surroundings bore witness to your heartfelt reconciliation—a canvas painted with promises of love rekindled, crafted with unwavering devotion and the resilience to begin anew.

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ks-dreams-fantasies · 4 months

Text

TEACH ME PT.5 | TRAVIS KELCE

a/n: I know I've been MIA and I'm deeply sorry, hope you can forgive me. Here's a longer chapter for you guys. Still pretty soft but cute. It's going to become spicy in the next chapters, so stay tuned for that.

Warning: None

Words: 3.348 (not proofread)

Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader

Part 4

TEACH ME PT.5 | TRAVIS KELCE

Later that evening, after your day filled with playful banter and shared moments with the kids, you sat on your couch, sipping on a glass of white wine. The buzz from the day’s excitement lingered, and you found yourself reaching for your phone to give Travis a call.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up, his voice warm and inviting. "Hey there, I was just thinking about you. How’s the night treating you?"

You couldn’t help but grin at his playful tone. "Pretty great, actually. And I have you to thank for the wonderful day."

Travis chuckled on the other end. "Glad to hear that. So, spill the details. What’s your favorite part of the day?"

As you recounted the moments spent with the kids, laughter and shared experiences, you could feel Travis’s genuine interest through the phone. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a comfortable exchange that reflected the ease between you.

Before you knew it, the topic shifted to the surprise bouquet and the unexpected plane ticket he had sent you. "I couldn’t believe it when I found those waiting for me," you admitted, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you, Travis. You didn’t have to do that. The bouquet is beautiful. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

Travis chuckled softly. "You deserve it. I just wanted to make you smile. Consider it a preview of what's to come. I thought you might want a little something to brighten your day while I'm away." You couldn’t suppress a chuckle. "Well, you certainly succeeded in doing that. But about the ticket—"

Travis jumped in before you could finish. "I know it’s short notice, but I wanted to make sure you had a chance to visit KC. Besides, I have a game coming up, and I’d love for you to be there. "

You were touched by his gesture. "That’s incredibly sweet of you, Travis. I’d love to come. It’ll be an adventure for sure." The conversation meandered into plans for the upcoming trip, laced with excitement and the promise of new adventures. Travis was eager to show you around, his enthusiasm contagious. The days that followed were a whirlwind of anticipation and planning. You couldn't shake the smile off your face after that incredible evening with Travis on your official first date. Every text, call, and shared moment only deepened the connection between you two.

Your classroom buzzed with excitement as the kids were eager to know more about the mysterious bouquet and the note. They couldn’t help but giggle at the idea of their teacher having a secret admirer.

Camille, your confidante, and cheerleader, was over the moon, practically planning your entire wardrobe for the trip to Kansas City. She oscillated between teasing and genuine excitement, leaving you laughing at her enthusiasm.

The days dwindled away, each passing moment building up the anticipation for your upcoming trip. Travis was a constant presence in your thoughts, his gestures and the sheer thoughtfulness behind each message making you feel like a school girl.

As the day of your flight neared, you found yourself standing in front of your closet, deliberating over what to pack. Camille sat on your bed, throwing outfit suggestions your way faster than you could consider them.

"You've got to look effortlessly chic but also comfortable," she insisted, holding up a stylish yet casual ensemble.

You chuckled, admiring her enthusiasm. "I think I'll manage. But thanks for the fashion advice."

The day before your flight, you received a call from Travis, his voice warm and inviting over the phone. "Hey, just making sure you're all set for tomorrow. I've got a few surprises planned."

Your heart fluttered at the excitement in his voice. "I'm beyond excited! What surprises?" you teased, hoping for a sneak peek.

He laughed, a melodic sound that made your heart skip a beat. "Ah, ah, can't spoil the fun. But I promise, you're in for a treat."

The night before your flight was filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You packed and repacked, ensuring you didn't forget anything essential. Camille stayed over, the two of you reminiscing about past adventures and making plans for when you returned.

The next morning arrived in a rush of adrenaline. You barely slept a wink, your mind filled with thoughts of the trip and the moments awaiting you. A quick check of your suitcase, a last-minute glance in the mirror, and you were ready to embark on this new chapter.

At the airport, the buzz of travelers and the anticipation in the air only fueled your excitement. Security cleared, you made your way to the gate, heart racing with every step closer to seeing Travis again.

The announcement for your flight echoed through the terminal, signaling the start of your journey. As you settled into your seat, the anticipation bubbled within you, the plane humming with the promise of a fun weekend.

As the flight took off, you gazed out the window, the city shrinking into the distance. Thoughts of what lay ahead filled you with a sense of joy and nervousness, a beautiful mix of emotions swirling within.

Kansas City awaited, and so did Travis. The promise of new experiences, shared moments, and the chance to explore a city with someone special made your heart race. The adventure had just begun, and you were ready to embrace every moment of it.

The descent into Kansas City was exhilarating. As the plane landed and passengers started to gather their belongings, your heart raced with anticipation. Stepping off the plane, the familiar buzz of a new city surrounded you, the air carrying the excitement of the adventures ahead.

As you made your way through the bustling airport, Travis’s text chimed in, “Just landed? I’m parked at the arrivals, can’t wait to see you!”

You grinned, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of reuniting with him. Your pace quickened, eager to see the man who had been on your mind for days.

Spotting Travis waiting by the arrivals gate, your breath hitched. Dressed casually yet stylishly in jeans and a well-fitted tee, he looked even more handsome than you remembered. His eyes lit up as he caught sight of you, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there," Travis greeted, pulling you into a warm hug that felt like coming home.

The familiarity of his embrace made your heart skip a beat. You matched his grin, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of him. "Hey, stranger! Missed me already?" you teased, playfully raising an eyebrow.

Travis chuckled, stepping closer. "More than you know. But I must say, you’re looking even better than I remembered." His gaze swept over you appreciatively, sending a warmth through you.

"Well, I had to bring my A-game for the city tour," you quipped, enjoying the playful banter.

As he reached for your suitcase, his hand brushed against yours, sending an electrifying tingle down your spine. "Shall we head out then? I’ve got a couple of surprises lined up for you," Travis said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The casual flirtation between you and Travis felt effortless, the chemistry palpable as you made your way to his car. The car ride was a flurry of laughter, easy conversation, and subtle touches that spoke volumes.

"So, any hints about these surprises you mentioned?" you teased, unable to contain your curiosity.

Travis flashed a sly smile. "Ah, where’s the fun in spoiling the surprise? But I promise you won’t be disappointed."

As Travis navigated the streets of Kansas City, the city's vibrant energy surrounded you. The car ride was a symphony of shared laughter, playful teasing, and moments that felt like they were plucked straight out of a romantic comedy.

You couldn’t help but grin at Travis’s playful secrecy about the surprises. "You’re really committed to keeping these under wraps, aren’t you?" you teased, enjoying the delightful mystery.

He shot you a grin that sparkled with mischief. "Absolutely! Gotta keep the suspense alive. Builds up the excitement, you know?"

Your curiosity was piqued, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipation. The chemistry between you and Travis was undeniable, each moment spent together deepening the connection.

Pulling into a parking spot, Travis cut the engine, turning to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And here we are!"

You looked around, a hint of curiosity in your expression. "Here? Where exactly?"

Travis pointed to a bustling street lined with colorful shops and cafes. "Welcome to one of my favorite spots in town. Thought we'd start our adventure with some local treats and maybe a bit of shopping. You up for it?"

Your eyes lit up at the prospect, a playful smile forming on your lips. "Absolutely! Lead the way, tour guide extraordinaire."

The two of you strolled down the vibrant street, exploring quaint shops and sampling delicious treats. Travis was the perfect guide, sharing anecdotes about each place and introducing you to the city’s hidden gems.

Amidst the laughter and easy banter, there were subtle touches, a brush of hands when reaching for the same item at a shop, a lingering glance that spoke volumes. The chemistry crackled in the air, adding an extra layer of excitement to the day.

As you settled down at a charming café for a quick break, sipping on some freshly brewed coffee, Travis leaned in with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Okay, maybe it's time for a tiny hint about the surprises."

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Finally! Lay it on me."

Travis leaned closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say one involves a spectacular view and the other might be nostalgic. But that’s all you're getting for now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the thrill of the unknown. "I'm intrigued. Can't wait to see what you have in store."

As Travis and you stepped out of the charming cafe where you’d shared a warm beverage and a pastery, the late afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden glow. The chatter and laughter between you felt like a warm embrace amidst the bustling city.

As you strolled along the street, absorbed in conversation, a flurry of camera clicks disrupted the tranquility. Paparazzi had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, snapping pictures of Travis. He shielded you instinctively, guiding you away from the commotion.

"Sorry about that," he murmured, a hint of frustration in his voice. "They're everywhere sometimes."

You offered a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand gently. "It’s okay. I guess that comes with the territory, huh?"

Travis nodded, the tension easing as you continued your walk. Soon, you arrived at his place, a modern yet cozy and beautiful house that exuded warmth.

Travis guided you through his home, the décor a reflection of his eclectic tastes and passions. He stopped in front of a guest room, gesturing toward it with a smile. "This is the guest room. Feel free to settle in here. I've made sure it's comfy for you."

You nodded appreciatively, taking in the inviting setup. "Thank you, Travis. It looks lovely."

Yet, there was a gentle hesitancy in his demeanor. He shuffled his feet slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a touch of shyness. "Um, I mean, if you're more comfortable, there's also my room. I could set up the guest room too, but..."

Travis’s voice trailed off, a hint of uncertainty lingering in the air. His suggestion hung between you, laced with a vulnerability that surprised you. You understood the unspoken invitation, the gentle offer to share his personal space, but you also sensed his hesitance.

Your heart warmed at his gesture, his consideration palpable. "I appreciate that, Travis. Your kindness means a lot."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the unspoken understanding weaving a delicate thread of connection. The offer was sweet and genuine, but you also sensed the boundaries he respected.

"I think I’ll settle into the guest room for now," you finally said, offering a warm smile. ‘’Of course,’’ he responded with a smile, ‘’I’ll let you get ready for your next surprise’’

You dropped your things off and freshened up, excited for the evening’s surprises Travis had planned.

Once you opened your suitcase, you surprisingly found the red and lacy 2 piece set that Camille had bought you before your first date with Travis. You grabbed your phone and snapped a quick picture sending it to you friend.

I don’t remember packing that...

Glad you arrived safe and sound. I figured it might come in handy for your trip, thank me later 😉

You shook your head giggling before picking an outfit for the evening. As the sky transitioned into a canvas of twilight hues, Travis led you outside, where a vintage car awaited.

‘’You look beautiful’’ he said with a genuine smile. You thanked him, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

Travis opened the car door for you with a grin. "Ready for the next surprise?"

You nodded eagerly, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Absolutely."

The drive to the outdoor dinner spot was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, the city lights painting a picturesque backdrop. You arrived at a charming courtyard lit with fairy lights, a table set for two in a secluded corner.

Travis pulled out your chair with a charming smile. "Welcome to our dinner spot."

The evening unfolded like a dream, a delectable meal served under a canopy of stars, animated conversations, and shared laughter that echoed in the intimate space.

Travis glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "So, tell me something random about yourself. Like, your secret talent or an odd quirk."

You chuckled, mulling it over. "Well, I have this uncanny ability to remember the lyrics to almost every song I've ever heard. Comes in handy for karaoke nights."

Travis raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Impressive! Mental note: invite you to a karaoke night."

You nudged him playfully. "Better brush up on your singing skills then, Mr. Kelce."

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Challenge accepted."

The banter flowed effortlessly between you, each moment feeling comfortable and easy. Conversations shifted from favorite movies to childhood memories, the laughter echoing through the park.

As youcontinued to eat your amazing dinner, Travis leaned in, grabbing your hand to caress it like it was nothing. "So, what’s your go-to guilty pleasure food?"

You grinned, knowing exactly what he was asking. "Pizza, hands down. I can never resist a good slice."

Travis nodded approvingly. "Solid choice. Mine's probably ice cream, especially on game nights."

You arched an eyebrow, teasingly. "Does ice cream give you your touchdown mojo?"

He chuckled. "Maybe not directly, but it definitely adds to the celebration."

As the evening deepened, Travis led you to another surprise—an old-fashioned drive-in movie setup in a secluded spot, complete with a screen as you both got comfortable in his car. Travis extended his arm to get a small basket form the backseat. He handed you some popcorn and candy as well as a drink for you to sip on during the movie.

‘’Wow you really came prepared.’’ You chuckled impressed by him.

‘’Of course I did.’’ He said pulling a blanket and putting it on the both of you so you could get cozy. He drapped his arm on the seat pulling you closer to his body as the screen lit up announcing the movie that was about to play.

Your favorite movie, "Casablanca," played in classic black and white, the iconic scenes flickering across the screen.

You couldn’t contain your delight. "You remembered!"

Travis grinned, drapping his arm around your neck, pulling you closer to his body. "Of course I did.’’

You turned around looking into his eyes. ‘’Thank you for this, you’re the best.’’ You said before pecking his lips gently. He was taken by surprise but didn’t complain, since you arrived all he wanted to you was to kiss you.

As the black and white scenes of "Casablanca" played on the screen, the vintage car was transformed into a cocoon of intimacy. The air was charged with the nostalgia of the classic movie, and the soft glow of the moon added a touch of magic to the evening.

Travis shifted in his seat, stealing a glance at you as Humphrey Bogart's iconic scene played out. With a playful smile, he nudged your shoulder. "Quite the romantic, aren't you? Bet you've seen this movie a dozen times."

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of the moment. "Maybe a dozen and one. But it never gets old."

Travis's gaze lingered, the dim light casting a soft glow on his features. He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, a subtle electricity that crackled between you both.

In the hushed silence of the night, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you under the canopy of stars and the timeless story on the screen.

As the movie reached a poignant moment, Travis turned to you, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability of the characters. His hand moved to gently cup your cheek, his touch tender and deliberate.

"You know," he murmured, his voice a whisper against the backdrop of the movie. "There's something about old movies that make the moments feel timeless."

Your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. In that quiet space, with the characters of Casablanca whispering their love story, a different kind of tension simmered—a tension that danced on the edge of unspoken desires and the anticipation of what was to come.

Without a word, Travis leaned in, closing the gap between you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, tender yet filled with a quiet intensity, as if he was pouring his feelings into that single moment.

Your heart pounded against your chest as the kiss deepened, the quiet rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of the city creating a symphony around you. His lips were warm and soft, a silent testament to the unspoken emotions that had been building between you both.

As the evening wound down and the drive-in movie came to a close, Travis led you back to his inviting home, the night air carrying the scent of possibility and warmth. Inside, the soft glow of lamps cast a cozy ambiance, enveloping the space in a comforting embrace.

‘’Thank you so much for tonight, it was an incredible evening, you really know how to make things special.’’

‘’I just wanted to show you how much I like you and how serious I am about this.’’ He said playing with your fingers.

‘’ Well I like you too, Travis.’’ You responded blushing. ‘’It’s getting late, I’m going to head up to bed if you don’t mind.’’ You said pecking his cheeks as he closed his eyes to appreciate the moment.

‘’Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, sleep tight.’’

As you settled into the cozy guest room, a sense of gratitude filled you. The day had been nothing short of magical, and Travis's thoughtful gestures lingered in your mind, leaving a trail of warmth.

However, as you lay in bed, thoughts of the day's shared moments with Travis played on a loop. His considerate offer to share his space echoed in your mind, and a subtle curiosity tugged at your thoughts.

With a soft sigh, you found yourself standing outside Travis's bedroom door. You hesitated for a moment, contemplating the unspoken invitation. Gathering your courage, you lightly tapped on the door, the sound barely audible in the quiet house.

Travis opened the door, surprise flickering in his eyes at the sight of you in your light blue satin pyjama. "Hey, is everything okay?"

You met his gaze, feeling a rush of vulnerability. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but... I'd like to take you up on your offer, if it's still open."

To Be Continued

Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght @thecubanator2 @corvusmorte @vznggh @kxllanxtdoor @youareadistraction @blackstabbath6 @queenmendes @@maryleclerc @itsdesiree86 @pookiepookie8 @kristencochefski1125 @mellyie @miab11181999 @hornyavengers @tringeorge @unsaidjaelinrose

#travis kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce nfl #travis kelce x reader #kelce x reader #nfl fic #nfl imagine

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stevesbipanic · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 26: Fake Dating

Steve was ready for Hawkins to open up again and for the Upside Down to swallow him whole. Christmas was meant to be fun, well at least it was supposed to be fun now that he spent it with the Buckley's. Right now though he was glaring at his boyfriend and best friend across the table. Or wait not his boyfriend this evening, no tonight, Eddie was Robin's boyfriend.

Steve could only blame himself he supposed, one for loving the two idiots that were currently badly suppressing giggles and two because it was all because of what he'd said last week.

One week earlier...

"Robin, just tell your mom you're a lesbian or I'm not coming to Christmas lunch next week."

"Steve I can't do that do you want to ruin Christmas!?"

"She was already fine with me being bisexual she's not going to send you to hell, that's why we tested her with me in the first place!"

"No, I'm not ready!"

"Well I can't sit through another Christmas of your mom suggesting a Spring wedding!"

"You're my boy space friend can't we just let her live in a fantasy world where she marries into the Harrington's?"

"I don't even want to be one!"

"Could pop down to the courthouse and become a Munson, baby," Eddie supplied watching the back and forth while blatantly stealing from the candy display.

Steve gave him a deadpan look, "You need to propose to me better than that, Eds. No, Robin that's it I'm not going, I'm not being your boyfriend anymore!"

"What am I meant to do then, she'll be asking about you all day!"

"I'll do it!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Do what?" The other two asked giving him a questioning look.

"No, stop I hate when you do that twin thing it's creepy. And I'll be your boyfriend for Christmas, Birdie."

Which brought Steve to now. It had seemed like a brilliant idea, one Steve could enjoy his Christmas lunch peacefully being the golden boy of the table as Mrs Buckley dawned over him and two, no boyfriend questions. There was also the added bonus that lesbianism might seem like a better option than the town's drug dealer in the Buckley's minds. What Steve hadn't counted on, was the Buckley's loving Eddie.

"Oh, you're in a band that's so lovely, you know I played tamborine for a band back when I was your age, we thought we were going to be a big girl group."

"I hear you're working over at Thatcher's son, they're good men there you're certainly going to learn a lot."

Steve had been relegated to peeling the potatoes while Eddie was literally putting his feet up in the living room. He felt like the middle child of a family that just got a newborn baby, how dare Eddie steal his pseudo parents. What was worse was that Robin was finding this hilarious.

"Oh poor Stevie Wevie are you sad mom's not asking about how EMT school is going?"

"Yes! I had such a fun fake heart attack story she was gonna love." Steve pouted and for a moment he thought about stomping his foot in protest.

"Hey, it's ok, next year I promise I'll have told them, and Edward over there can come as your boyfriend, ok?" Robin reassured wrapping an arm around him.

Steve guessed that he could give up being the favourite this time, and it was nice seeing people be kind to Eddie, it hadn't been easy after Spring Break. It didn't stop him shooting daggers whenever Eddie and Robin decided to reassure Steve at lunch that he'd find someone nice eventually.

Steve and Eddie waved goodbye after lunch, promising to visit soon and hopped into the van.

"Have fun?"

"Oh yeah, I think Janice is already planning the Spring wedding."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed getting fawned over because we've got dinner with Wayne now, and guess who's his favourite?"

"Just because you know the difference between the Chiefs and the Packers, I'm his own blood and the minute you're there it's like I'm chopped liver!" Eddie exclaimed as they drove towards the trailer park.

Lunch had been interesting but he was very glad it was over as he laughed and slid his fingers between Eddie's between them, happy that he had his boyfriend back.

Ao3

#steddie fake dating was too easy hahahaha #Stobin #steddie #eddie and robin are soulmates in law #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddiemas #ficlet #fake dating

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belphies-cowgirl · 2 years

Text

obey me headcanons pt. 2

word count: 900+

Lucifer tries to pick you a single red rose from the garden at the demon lord's castle each time he visits (sometimes Barbatos catches him, and Lucifer plays it off as him just leaning down to tie his shoes) the roses are hung along the ceiling trims in your room, adorned with a white ribbon to hold the stems together.

"here MC, let me help you hang those up, I told you to stop standing on chairs like that, what if you fall?"

"Luci, don't you know that red roses symbolize love and admiration?"

Mammon will NEVER admit this to ANYONE, but he has a secret savings account solely for buying you gifts. he claims he had the money to buy you something from the extra shifts he worked.

"Mams what's this? it's so lovely!"

"gah! here t-take it, it's for you, and don't go blabbing off to my brothers about this!"

Levi will purposely lose at games sometimes just so he can see the way your face lights up in excitement when you win. he absolutely adores the little lines on your face when you smile and the way you grab onto him in excitement.

"oh my gosh, Levi look I did it! aren't you proud of me?"

"y-yeah MC, good job, but let me s-show you some tricks on how to beat your previous score. t-that is if you can b-beat me again next round!"

Satan once asked Solomon to help him visit the human world so he could look for books that you loved before you came down to the Devildom. shortly after his return, he summoned you to his room and pushed the stack of books into your arms with rosy cheeks.

"here you might like these, I found them lying around while I was organizing my books."

"woah, I used to read these books all the time back in the human world. I didn't think I'd be able to read them again, thank you so much Satan!"

Asmo handmade you and him matching rose gold and silky-textured pj sets, and he expects you to wear it when you and him have sleepovers. he can't help but run his hands all over the soft fabric, his fingers leaving trail marks in the velvet as he runs them along your curves.

"oh MC! you're so cute!! I could just cuddle you to death~"

"Asmo please you're gonna squish me!"

Beel likes to make late-night snacks in the shape of little stars, as well as suns and moons (if he can manage not to eat them all before bringing them to your room to share with you)

"awh, Beel these are so cute! I guess I'm the stars, you're the suns, and Belphie is the moons!"

*munch* "yeah MC, that's right, i'm glad you like them. whenever Belphie and I look at the stars together, we always think about you." *munch*

Belphie will without a doubt take a nap on your lap or your shoulder, no matter the place. if you're lounging in the common room with his brothers, he will curl up in your lap and wrap his tail around your leg and link one of his fingers with yours.

*yawn* "MC, uncross your legs please, I'm so sleepy."

"okay, but don't drool on me this time."

Diavolo likes when you organize his stationery. he likes that you make sure everything is in its place, so when he's so immersed in paperwork he doesn't have to stop to search for what he needs (you once gave him a sticky note that says "I'm proud of you for working so hard <3" and he has it taped on his desk)

"MC, i've finished my paperwork, so how about we go out for dinner? I haven't seen you all week, and i've missed you."

"we see each other every morning, silly, but yes I would love to have dinner with you."

Barbatos once got so worried that you wouldn't want to be with him anymore due to him being so busy, that it started to distract him from his daily tasks. so he asked Diavolo if once a week he could have a longer break than usual so that he could spend time with you and remind you how much he loves and cherishes you.

"MC, I think about you all the time. when I am not busy, I would like to spend and cherish every minute with you."

"oh Barb, i'm so happy you feel that way! I was so worried that you didn't want to be with me anymore."

Simeon keeps a private journal so that he can spill his heart out for you onto the pages. he gifts it to you once every page is inked with words of his eternal love for you.

"MC, I hope you will love this as much as I love you."

"Simeon, this is beautiful, I didn't know you felt this way about me, I love you so much!"

Solomon gifted you a charmed locket that allowed you to feel his heartbeat, he wants you to know that his heart will never stop beating for you whether the two of you are together or apart.

"nice try MC, but you won't be able to fluster me that easily."

"if that's the case, then why is your heart beating so fast?"

Luke will run to you and hug you whenever he's being teased, he'll turn his head to the side and stick his tongue out at Lucifer and his brothers.

*sob* "MC, they won't stop teasing me!"

"guys stop being so mean to my sweet little angel!"

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own!

m.list

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kimbap-r0ll · 10 months

Note

Can I please request Trey, Jack, Kalim and Leona reacting to their little sibling (Cheka in Leona's case) asking the reader if they can marry them?

Hi, thank you for the ask! I'm guessing you mean the boys' younger siblings asking the reader to marry their bf? If not let me know, I took this approach for the ask :)

You get asked by Trey, Jack, Kalim's siblings and Cheka about marriage to their older brothers

Trey

He's lowkey embarrassed but he's laughing when he hears this

Trey had invited you over during the holidays and you two were helping out in the bakery. Trey's younger brothers came in and saw how you were busy by yourself. Deciding this was the chance to ask you a bunch of questions, they went and just rapid-fire asking when you were planning on marrying Trey

"Guys, guys, they're trying to do the icing on the cake leave them be," Trey pats his siblings on the back and tries to move them away from you. But the kids just keep going "Are you going to wear a suit? A dress? What about the cake flavor!"

Overall Trey thinks it's kind of funny, if anything if you answer these questions expect to see Trey blushing a little bit. Also expect him to daydream about a wedding more after this little incident haha

Jack

You were probably playing with Jack and his siblings when you were visiting them. You were already worn out by how much running everyone did but they all seemed to have superhuman stamina so you gave up and sat in the snow

Soon enough everyone else joined you, watching the clouds pass slowly in the sky. But then his younger sister started to ask you questions about your relationship with Jack. They knew you two were dating but they wanted to hear all of your date stories!

Jack tried to stop them from asking too many in case you didn't want to answer but they lowkey ignored his plea. They started to ask you "When are you going to marry Jack?" "He's been thinking about the kind of cake you two might have!" "Are you going to live close by?"

"T-that's enough you two," Jack's red in the face while you're laughing at the cute questions along with Jack's reaction. If you do answer any of these questions expect Jack to just look away shyly while the siblings giggle. You two are so wholesome omg

Kalim

He has a lot of siblings, but during one fancy event you got to meet a lot of them. While they might not all be close to Kalim, most of them knew about his relationship with you.

However what you didn't expect from this event was the amount of times you would be asked by Kalim's siblings (and aunts) on marriage. Will you get married next week? What kind of venue did you want to have? Things like that. His younger siblings were especially keen on asking 80% of these questions while the adults tried to stop them haha

Kalim overheard you answering one of the questions about how you wanted to wear something nice, whether it is a dress, a suit, or something else entirely. "Aww, I think you'll look great," Kalim smiles at you. He finds you really cute when you blush at his compliment

He's the only one that doesn't get embarrassed, though he does feel a little fluttery in his stomach with the idea of actually marrying you, it fee's like a dream. Kalim's also really glad that his siblings seem to already treat you like a part of the family

Leona

He was dreading this to ever happen, hence never mentioning letting you stay with him during the holidays. However, Farena's wife wanted to meet you and Leona had to agree

During your time at his home, you got to know his brother better along with the others in the royal family. Cheka frequently followed you around, mainly because he was curious as to who you were and also because he liked your vibes

Cheka asks a lot of questions, but at some point he started to ask if you were going to marry Leona and when. Right when Leona himself was with you. Leona, though usually chill, for the first time nearly spit out his drink and just turned slightly red in the face.

If you answer (with a little laugh of course), Cheka will just continue asking more questions about marriage. Leona, crossing his arms and refusing to look at you in the eye, will listen closely. He may not show it, but thinking about marrying you makes his heart beat faster and just makes him feel all warm inside, which in turn translates to him just being more emotionally constipated haha

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst trey #twst trey x reader #twst jack #twst jack x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim x reader #twst leona #twst leona x reader

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suppose-i-was-worm · 10 months

Text

I Put A Spell On You

Fake Dating (Part 1)

**I know, it's not the one that I started writing and was really funny, I'm having a lot of trouble with that one. Enjoy this one instead!**

“I need your help.”

Damian frowned, stashing away the knife he’d hidden beneath his pillow. Danny was crouched on the sill of the window he’d come in through, looking at him with wide blue eyes.

“Tt. What do you need? It is well past midnight.”

“I need you to fake date me.”

“What?”

Danny flinched, and Damian realized how sharp his question had been.

“My apologies. Please explain to me what is going on so that I can best assist you.”

Coming fully into the room, Danny started to explain.

“So, you know my parents and holidays, right? They- they’ve started hounding me about bringing home a significant other since Jazz got married.”

Damian nodded- he was familiar with Danny’s parents’ personality, even having never met them.

“Anyways, for Thanksgiving, they’re threatening to invite Paulina over and make me sit next to her. Paulina, Dames! I wouldn’t survive. So I told them I had a boyfriend who lived here in Gotham, and now they’re insisting on coming here to visit. If they find out I lied, I’ll be dead! My grades are too good for an early death.”

“So you came to me.”

“You’re the only person I know well enough to pull this off, Damian.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from his father.

“And you did not think to tell them about-“

Cutting him off, Danny grabbed Damian’s face and looked directly into his eyes, a serious look on his face.

“Damian, I assure you it would be a fate worse than death if they found out how we met.”

Damian pulled himself away from Danny, glad for the dim light of his bedroom hiding the blush heating up his cheeks. The other man had never been that close to his face, and Damian would probably say that Danny’s eyes were more dangerous for him than the entire League of Assassins.

“Please, Dames? It’s Paulina we’re talking about.”

Closing his eyes, Damian thought things through. Fake dating Danny would be- a blessing and a curse at the same time. A blessing, as it would require him to be close to the other man for extended periods. A curse, because he knew it would end as soon as Danny’s parents left Gotham. For Damian, who had been struck by Danny’s beauty from the first moment he’d seen the other, the brief benefits might just outweigh the pain of them ending. At least he’d have the memory of being close to Danny.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was holding his hands in a mock praying position, looking up at Damian through his lashes.

“Tt. Fine.”

Danny lit up, literally, and then darted forward, planting a kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“You’re the best! They’re coming in to town tomorrow- drop by mine when you can!”

The other man slid back out of the window and flew off before Damian recovered from the kiss enough to protest the short notice.

~~~

The next day found Damian waiting outside Danny’s apartment, flowers in hand. He had done some investigation as to what he ought to bring with him to meet a significant other’s parents, so he was also armed with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.

The door opened soon enough after his knock, revealing an older woman he had never seen before. He could see where Danny got his frame, though, as well as his delicate features.

“You must be Damian! Come in! Danny’s elbow deep in the microwave with Jack. I’m Maddie- we’ve heard so much about you!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He stepped inside the apartment, handing Maddie the wine and chocolates after she closed the door.

“Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? Danny!”

Danny poked his head out of the kitchen, and Damian almost swooned at the look Danny gave him.

“Hey Dames! Glad you could make it!”

He emerged, wiping what looked like grease off his hands, and took the flowers that Damian handed him.

“For you, Beloved.”

More importantly, he also took the short kiss Damian gave him over the bouquet.

When Damian pulled away, he was delighted to see that Danny was flushed.

“Uh- thank you! They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, you two are so cute! How long have you been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Not long.”

Danny and Damian spoke at the same time, and then Damian smiled smoothly, determined to fix his mistake.

“Perhaps I feel like our time together until now has been too short. Every time I see you, you are as beautiful as the day we met.”

He was rewarded with Danny flushing an even brighter red.

Maddie turned to her son, hands on her hips.

“You’ve been dating this polite young man for so long and hadn’t told us?”

Danny shuffled his feet, looking bashful.

“I didn’t want to scare him away. I really like him, mom.”

A large man came out of the kitchen, laughing a booming laugh.

“We can tell, Danno. It’s not like you haven’t been talking about him for the last few years.”

Damian looked over at Danny, doing his best not to let his expression show. Danny had been talking about him to his parents? For years?

Danny laughed nervously and then herded everyone into the dining room.

If he were being honest, Damian had pulled out all of his acting skills to charm the Drs. Fenton throughout the evening. He did not need acting skills for his interactions with Danny. He kept close to the other, wrapping an arm around his shoulder when he could and dropping light kisses into the shorter man’s hair when the opportunity presented itself.

It was heaven.

Danny walked him out to his car after dinner, and didn’t let go of Damian’s hand the entire way.

“Thank you for tonight, Dames.”

Damian smiled down at the love of his life.

“Of course, Beloved. Anything for my husband.”

With a scoff, Danny let go of Damian’s hand and stepped back.

“Sure, Damian. Drive safe.”

~~~

Danny Fenton knew when he was screwed. His parents had been in Gotham for a week, and Damian was still dropping by to see him on a semi regular basis. He’d even been touchy, and Danny knew that of all people, Damian Wayne wasn’t ever physically affectionate.

It partly gave him hope, and partly made him think this gambit was hopeless. He was aware of Damian’s extra-curriculars, after all, and knew the entire family were good actors.

And yet-

Damian’s parting kiss to him had been long and clinging the evening before his parents left, and he seemed reluctant to leave Danny standing in his own doorway. His hand lingered on Danny’s wrist, and his eyes were the last to tear away.

So, yeah. Danny was fifty percent sure that Damian might possibly reciprocate his feelings, but he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

He hadn’t had the courage to ask much of Damian since they met, even though he’d been half in love with the other man the moment they laid eyes on each other.

It had been a routine summoning- He’d tasted the blood in his mouth, and while it did not necessarily taste like the blood of an innocent (he always went to bat for the victim in those cases), it piqued his curiosity enough to check things out.

He rose from the summoning circle, crown of fire wreathing his head as he showed off his less human appearance.

The cultists fell away from him, scrambling to bow and prostrate themselves in front of him.

“Oh great Ghost King! Please accept this sacrifice in order to take your rightful place as the lord of all worlds!”

Danny looked down to see a handsome young man in a well fitted suit glaring up at him, blood drying from a wound on his head.

When their eyes met, something changed. The summoning circle flared from Danny’s own ice blue to a sharp neon green, and something lit up under the chair the ‘sacrifice’ was tied to.

With noises of surprise, the cultists started to rise to investigate, but Danny snapped his fingers and caught them all in ice.

Landing, Danny inspected both the runes in the summoning circle and the one beneath the sacrifice, and then floated out of the circle to find the book the cultists had been using to summon him.

When he found it, he had the urge to finish these idiots off himself. They had somehow botched the ritual so much that they had turned it into something of a wedding, and now he was ghost married to a human civilian.

Turning back to said human civilian, he found the other on his feet on the opposite side of the room, holding an improvised weapon.

“Oh cool, you got free. Good news, you’re not going to die.”

The civilian stiffened even more, arching an eyebrow.

“Tt. What is the bad news?”

Danny shrugged.

“Oh, not much. We’re just kinda… Married now? I’ll find a way to dissolve it, or something, and you’re not obligated to have anything to do with me, but… Yeah. Supernaturally married. Is a thing. That we are.”

Civilian’s shoulders slumped, and he stalked out of the warehouse (why was it always warehouses?). Danny followed behind.

“Oh, hey, we’re in Gotham!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Close to my apartment.”

The man turned to him incredulously.

“The ghost king has an apartment in Gotham?”

Danny let his transformation wash over him.

“Well, Danny Fenton does, and I’m him most of the time.”

“Damian Wayne. A pleasure.”

Damian held out his hand, and Danny shook it carefully.

“Totally! I’m gonna- go. I guess. And look into the ghost married thing.”

“No rush. It might be advantageous to be married to an interdimensional king.”

With a laugh, Danny lifted into the air.

“Sure. I’m cool with being friends, if you want. Maybe we can work together.”

“I can do friends.”

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #danny phantom #damian wayne #dead serious #dpxdc #fake dating #idiots to lovers

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slayfics · 10 months

Text

Muichiro’s Mansion

Muichiro x Reader series

You meet with Muichiro again after healing at the butterfly mansion.

Chapter 10

You had woken up the next morning and Muichiro was nowhere to be found. You wondered what had even happened. You knew you were hurt badly, so you wondered if you could have imagined Muichiro cuddling you through the night.

"Good to see you are up!" You heard and looked over to see Shinobu.

"Tokito was sent on a mission." She explained.

That meant he really was here. You didn't imagine what had happened.

"You'll be ok to leave in a week or two. Stay comfortable and rest until then ok," Shinobu smiled then left.

The next two weeks seemed to take an eternity, and Muichiro never came to visit again. He didn't even write to you. You felt so confused about your relationship with the Hashira.

His mixed signals and impossible to read emotions were driving you mad. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over you when Shinobu finally released you to go back to Muichiro's Mansion. Finally you might be able to get some answers.

You never felt like you got somewhere so quickly. You couldn't wait to see Muichiro again and hopefully clear up whatever was going on. Above all you wanted to redeem yourself and fight even harder on the next mission with him.

When you got to the mansion you saw Muichiro standing outside with your belongings around him.

"Um... Hi-" you began to say but Muichiro interjected.

"I'm glad you are feeling better, but I have decided to fire you as my Tsuguko. I can no longer train you." Muichiro said, looking at the floor refusing to meet your gaze.

You felt your heart shatter. He really was disappointed in you. He did come to regret accepting you as his Tsuguko. Why did he even bother to comfort you that night at the Butterfly Mansion? This didn't make any sense.

You didn't want to cry but you couldn't help it. Tears began to fall as you pleaded to him for another chance.

"I know I messed up, but I promise I'll train even harder and I'll do better next time. Please just give me more chance Tokito!"

"There is nothing left to say on the matter," Muichiro said, turning his back to you and walking into the mansion, leaving you alone with your belongings outside.

I want to profusely apologize to you all after this chapter. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! All I’ll say is please come back for the next chapters! They aren’t all this sad I promise~

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selineram3421 · 3 months

Text

*watching Hazbin Hotel and sees this deer man kicking his feet* I must have this in a fic!

Lovesick Alastor

Alastor X Reader

Warning ⚠

⚠ The tale of the Radio Demon falling in love. Blood, possessive, obsessive, yandere coded Alastor ⚠

Alastor had felt indifferent to romance for years.

What a silly thing! It was too stupid, dangerous, something that can turn you into a fool and get you killed.

Yes, he stayed cleared of it in life and in Hell.

That is until he got to know you.

You.

A lovely demon that is passionate in everything they do. A strong, powerful, and loving person who can be a bit of a klutz at times.

The first time he met you, you were dancing and singing to a song playing on the phonograph, the vinyl having a very energizing tune.

Rosie had sent him to you to try and start up a deal. You were starting up a shop nearby the colony and needed help getting your footing into the door. Your store was lacking in attention.

The perfect person to get a soul from.

Something held him back though. He just had to get to know the demon that tripped over their feet when spotting him.

"Falling for me already?", he joked.

But it was him who fell first.

You shined so brightly, how could he not?

Instead of having your soul the Radio Demon set out to have your heart.

Rosie was surprised that her friend did not make a deal and questioned him, curious with the change.

"Alastor, you never turn down a deal! Especially when this one is so easy.", she put down her tea cup, setting it down on the saucer.

"It's nothing to be concerned about, really. I just found something better.", he grinned and ate an appetizer.

"Hmm, alright. If you say so.", she let it drop for now.

Alastor paid a visit to your shop everyday.

He helped you renovate, pick out the best products for you to sell, and even had the pleasure to celebrate the first official opening.

Your shop was that of knick-knacks, it had things for customization. Mostly for anniversaries, birthdays, and celebration sorts. Doing things like engraving, embroidery, and carving.

One day you gave him a gift of his own.

"I wanted to thank you for all the help you've given me over the past few months.", you smiled and gently placed a small round box in his hand. "I hope you like it."

"Oh! And what is this?", he said and opened it, hearing music and a small smoke figures rising from the box to dance.

He noticed that the figure looked a lot like him and you, which got his dead heart to skip.

"This is wonderful."

Alastor looked up from the box and saw you beaming with joy.

"I'm so glad you like it!"

"No darling, I love it.", he corrected and took your hand. "If my guess is right, might I have the pleasure of courting you?"

"Only if you are true.", you squeezed his hand.

"Nothing but for you.", he lifted your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

After that he quickly went to Rosie and almost kicked the door down.

"I have news!"

"Don't you kick my door!", his friend walked over to greet him.

The Radio Demon's smile was wide and he had an extra bounce in his step.

"I have news."

"You've said that already.", Rosie guided him over to her office.

After settling in, she sat down and patted the seat next to her. "Now, tell me what's got you so theatrical. Not that you aren't but this is more than usual."

"I can't sit now! I have to prepare!", the red dressed demon exclaimed. "I've begun courting someone and they've already given me a gift. I must return that tenfold! No! A hundred times more! A thousand! Millions!"

Rosie gasped and stood in shock.

"You? In love? I never thought I'd see the day!"

Alastor quickly turned towards the door. "I need to get them flowers!"

The woman quickly put a stop to his rambling.

"Now hold on old boy.", she sat him down. "Have you given thought to what they like the most? Surely you must have more ideas than just the old rose bouquet."

"Of course!", he laughed and pulled out a list from his chest pocket.

Once getting the all clear from his friend, and more ideas for gifts and actions, he took off to get something that would make you happy.

Alastor did everything and more.

Spoiling you with anything you could ever desire. Of course, this also caught the attention of his rival.

"When the fuck did this happen!?", Vox stared at the distorted screen.

It was a picture of the Radio Demon and a lovely looking thing on his arm.

"Don't know but its what Velvette found while scrolling.", Valentino said while cleaning his gun. "They don't look that entertaining."

The next day you found the underling of T.V. Overlord in your shop.

"Hello? Is there something you'd like to place an order on?", you asked walking over.

"Hello! My boss sent me here.", they handed a clipboard to you. "Please sign here for the package."

"Package? I didn't buy anything.", you said confused.

"Something was sent to you from my boss. This is just for confirmation that you received it.", they pushed it closer to you.

"Why?", you looked over the paper, not even taking the clipboard from the demon.

"Please just sign it.", they sighed.

"Dear? What's taking so long?", Alastor walked out of the back room, static growing louder once seeing the demon with the Vox-tech logo on his jacket. "Why are you here?"

"I'm j-just doing my job, sir.", the demon froze.

"Alastor.", you said, quickly getting the deer demon's attention. "I'll handle this. Don't you worry.", you smiled.

"Very well.", he quickly agreed and backed off, glaring at the demon. "Don't let this take long.", he threatened them.

You turned to the demon and smiled.

"I reject it, whatever it is."

Of course Vox wasn't happy with that.

Alastor was pissed.

How dare that piece of technologic crap try and get your attention. You were his, he had your affection first and it would also be your last. You would be with him forever and no one will take you.

So, to make sure this didn't happen again, the smiling demon sent back the Vox-tech worker back in a bloody box.

"Darling~", he hugged you from behind.

Both of you were in the back of your shop again, you were going over your stock.

"Come with me to this hotel I saw on the news. It looks quite entertaining!"

"I'd love to Alastor but you know I have to do my work.", you caressed the side of his face. "I'll let you know when I can visit as soon as I'm done with the set of rings."

"Rings?", he asked.

"Yes, there was this couple celebrating an anniversary and wanted their wedding rings engraved.", you smiled.

"Still together even after death? How romantic.", the deer commented. "I suppose I can wait for a bit longer. Though I do wish you could just drop everything."

"You know I can't.", you laughed and kissed his cheek.

Satisfied for now, the Radio Demon left for the hotel. Of course not everything was a smooth sailing but he managed to get everything settled for you to join him.

And when you did he was ecstatic.

"Darling! I see you finished those rings!", he twirled you in a hug.

"I missed you too love.", you hugged back.

The hazbin crew was shocked seeing him so affectionate with you.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Oh how rude of me!", Alastor set you down but still held you close. "This is my significant other!"

"The fuck! Is this why you kept saying no to my offers!?", Angel crossed his arms.

"They are not the only reason! You are disgusting!", the deer demon grinned.

"What offers?", you questioned.

"This fellow kept offering to warm my bed dear."

"Oh?"

The room got darker and the walls started to distort.

"Hold on!", a blonde jumped in. "There is no killing guests in the hotel!"

"Charlie! Get away from them!", a white haired woman ran over with a spear.

You rolled your eyes and stopped.

"Sorry.", you smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you, I wouldn't dream of ruining your carpets!"

The two calmed down.

Alastor laughed and pulled you away from the group. "Don't you worry my darling, I made sure to threaten the spider properly. Let me show you around! I have a room set up to your liking."

"What? When did you-?"

"Let's go!", he teleported you with him using his shadows.

Everyone stood confused in the lobby.

"When the fuck did he start dating? How crazy is that demon to accept?"

Meanwhile you and Alastor were in your own little world. He showed you your hotel room and conjured up a door to connect your rooms together.

"If its too much I can get rid of the door.", he said and turned to look back at you. "What do you think?"

"Its very sweet of you.", you yanked him down by his bowtie. "Why didn't you tell me about the first time that spider made a comment like that?", you said in a commanding tone.

Your deer chuckled and kissed you.

"Because I knew that you would get jealous and I love to see you get like this.", he pulled you by the waist and into a dip. "We both know that I'd never accept something like that. Especially if its not you."

"I won't go there.", you moved your hands to hold his face. "I know you don't like things like that."

"I appreciate it my love.", he pulled you back up. "Now, what else would you like to do?"

"They said no killing, right?", you asked.

"Yes, no sinning here in the hotel my dearest.", he went to lie down on your bed.

"I can give him a good scare though.", you smiled and laughed darkly, plotting out a scheme.

Alastor sighed dreamily, kicking his feet back and forth as he watched you set up a plan.

Yes, he had fallen but he doesn't regret it.

Not one bit.

From: Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

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the-kr8tor · 7 months

Note

haii !! for your fluffy friday:

hobie brown x reader and reader got one of those american girl doll baby dolls (i forgot what theyre called) so hobie and reader can take care of it like its a real baby 🤗

Hi, angel! Thank you for your request, hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Reader is pregnant, Fluff.

It's Fluffy Friday!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You and Hobie wave goodbye to Mayday, she pouts in her dad's arms, not ready to go home yet. Baby blues tearing up, her lip wobbles. Peter tries to console his daughter. The portal swirls in your living room, bathing it in a yellow glow. You cringe at how your stuff will fall harshly on the floors once it closes.

"You'll see them again, don't you miss mama?" He bounces her in his arms. Mayday only frowns more at her father's question, emotions running high.

"Mm-hmm, I'm sure your mommy misses you a lot, Mayday" you coo at the toddler, cradling your baby bump. You're about to burst any day now.

Hobie hands Peter Mayday's baby bag, "yeah, we'll just be here waiting for you" he ducks down to meet Mayday's teary eyes, shaking her tiny hands, trying to bring comfort. You grin at the interaction, hormones making you tear up.

"Thanks guys, I really need to get her home before she throws a tantrum. See ya!" Peter makes Mayday wave her hand by using his own. "Say bye bye, Mayday! Hit me up if you need any help, okay?" she finally wails as her dad steps inside the portal. Her cries get cut off by the portal closing.

"Oof glad I'm not Peter right now" you huff, turning around to look for Hobie, "Hobie?"

He crouches down to pick up a baby doll left on the floor. Shaking it in his grip, "D'you think she was crying because of this?"

"I don't think so, she barely played with it" you shrug, wobbling to him, taking the doll in his hands. Still accustomed to taking care of an actual baby, you cradle the toy like it's alive. "We can give it back to Pete next time they visit"

Hobie cracks an endearing smile, he's seen you hold Mayday before with the same enthusiasm but something about you carrying a smaller baby albeit a toy one unlocks something in his mind. He's absolutely excited to have the little one in your arms.

"You look really fit right now" Hobie eyes you up and down, whistling. You make pregnancy look good.

You roll your eyes, "what?" Not believing the words he uttered "my shirt is covered in baby food," you sniff at your collar. "Yep, mango baby food. And I haven't washed my hair in days"

Hobie leads you in his arms by your elbow, holding you close, the baby doll right in the middle of your cuddling, stomach making it hard to embrace him properly.

You suddenly realize what he really meant, knowing him well. Basically reading his mind when he lays his head on your shoulder, tired from chasing around Mayday all over the flat; hand rubbing soft circles over your tummy. The other kneads at the small of your back, massaging the aching muscle.

He's been so supportive the entire pregnancy, even with all your weird cravings and hormone induced mood swings, Hobie was always there to help ease the burden off of you. You've seen him get more and more excited everyday, bouncing all over the flat to get it ready for the baby.

"Yeah? I look good?" Bouncing the toy in your arms, you smirk at Hobie.

"Mm-hmm," Hobie peppers your face with sticky kisses leaving you all giggly and smiley. "So" kiss "bloody" kiss "good"

"Okay" laughing in between "calm down this is the reason why I'm pregnant" instead of pulling away, you encourage him by leaving your own kisses on his cheeks.

After a moment of you attacking his face with your lips, you finally pull away, scrunching your nose endearingly at Hobie with a lopsided grin. His hand never leaves your bump.

"Maybe we should keep this for a few days, might be good for practice" He holds the doll by its foot jokingly. You know he's prepared enough to know how to hold a baby properly.

You chuckle, "not a good start, babe" taking the doll with care, cradling its head, you indulge him.

"I haven't got that swaddling thing down"

"Come on then, let's practice" leading him to the bedroom by his hand with a tired but happy smile.

Reblog banner by @/cafekitsune

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scrollonso · 1 month

Text

First Kiss (Break 1)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.2k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys] {filler chapter? I just felt like Lance and Nando getting closer would make more sense if they spent break together + Mark}

last part - masterlist - next part

They had two weeks off and Lance had absolutely no plans, Nico was on vacation with his family to god knows where, Fernando had probably already arrived in Australia, and Lance didn't have any other friends on the paddock to worry about.

He had thought about going back to Canada but he just ended up back at his house in Switzerland. Spring had started by the time he got home so it wasn't like he could distract himself with snowboarding so he just ended up at home on his couch for the past five days.

Being alone was nice, but a part of him missed Fernando, oddly enough. They'd only ever hung out on the paddock but Lance had grown to look forward to the time they spent together, whether it was actually sitting and talking or just exchanging glances while in the middle of interviews.

As if it was fate, his phone began to rang. It was an unknown number but he figured it might be important, his dad had a history of calling him from random places just to check up on him, as if the 18 year old hadn't been left alone before.

"Hello?" He said, holding his (very small) phone to his ear

"Lancito, I am so glad you answered!" a voice on the other end spoke, a very familiar voice

"Nando?" Lance questioned "How did you get my number?"

"Is not important!" The Spaniard said, brushing off the question "Lancito, are you busy? If you are, cancel, come to Australia."

"No, I'm not busy." Lance responded, wondering if Fernando was really inviting him to Australia, wasn't he with Mark? Wouldn't that be awkward? "Is something important happening in Australia?"

"Si, You are coming, is important."

"Nando, I-" The younger boy laughed, not being able to wipe the smile off his face just from hearing the other mans voice "Sure, I'll come."

"Perfect, I'll send you the information, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay Nando"

"Bye, Lancito! Have a safe flight"

And with that the call ended and Lance wasted no time in buying the tickets to Australia (idk how people bought plane tickets in 2006...)

Lance got off the plane, trying to pat down the hair he could feel sticking up, he always slept on long flights and this one was no acception. It was weird being in Australia a week before he had to but he wasn't going to turn down Fernando is he wanted Lance there so bad, for whatever reason.

It was a Sunday morning and the airport was surprisingly busy, he eventually found his way out and got a taxi headed towards the address Fernando had texted him

"Just landed, headed your way now!!"

Lance stared at the screen before sending the message, just now wondering why exactly he was there, he wasn't blind to the media, especially when he was constantly being interviewed and asked questions fans were dying to know, he had heard the rumours, people saying Fernando was only talking to him to scare him, he was going to embarrass him, he had some ulterior motive, Lance hoped it wasn't true but now that he was blindly following Fernandos orders in another country while he was visiting his friend (who's seat he took) a part of him started to wonder if Fernando was planning something. He hit send.

They'd hadn't texted much, just Fernando sending him the information he needed and Lance thanking him before he got on the plane and turned off his phone, he wasn't too fond of it anyways.

"I am glad you made it"

"Is exciting"

"Tell the driver to go faster"

Lance smiled at his phone, excited to see the Spaniard again, even though he saw him not even a week ago.

"I shouldn't break the law yet"

"I just got here and my dad isn't here to bail me out!"

"I will do it, no worries Lancito"

He shook his head at the text, turning off his phone and waiting to arrive, not too far away from the location

He stepped out of the car, paying the taxi fare then walking up to the house, hesitating to knock. Maybe texting would be better? Or calling? Or anything besides knocking? Before he even had the chance to decide the door opened, revealing a slightly-taller-than-him Mark Webber and Fernando standing by his side, the two closer than he thought they would be

"Lance, welcome, so sorry about making you come so randomly." Mark spoke first, stepping back to invite Lance in

"It's no problem, I wasn't doing anything anyway" Lance smiled as he walked into the house, scanning what he could see

"I told you Lancito didn't mind" Fernando said to Mark, hitting his arm slightly "Is good to make sure you two get along before people start to speculate, ay?" Fernando smiled at Mark then at Lance, reaching up to flatten the hair still sticking up on his head

Lance wasn't sure why he was surprised Fernando was still calling him his nickname, he didn't know why he expected anything to change with Mark around, Fernando seemed the same, if anything he seemed happier around Mark. It made him feel bad, he was the reason Mark lost his seat, the reason Fernando's friend was no longer on the paddock, the reason Fernando had to settle for him instead.

"Well, Lance, I don't mind that you took my seat" Mark laughed, closing the door before putting an arm around Lance's shoulder "I was done with travelling all the time anyway, so don't beat yourself up over what people say"

Lance nodded, Mark was right, and he was pretty old so it made sense for him to be smarter.

"Now, how about we have fun now that we've dragged you to the land down under?" That made Lance smile, he was looking forward to spending the rest of his break actually doing stuff besides binging TV shows.

The next week went by so quick Lance was surprised when he actually had to go to the paddock, almost as surprised as fans when he showed up with both Fernando and Mark.

He hesitated when Fernando suggested all of them going together, worried about what people would say, but the older men made it obvious they couldn't care less so thats how they ended up going together, Mark having plans of doing interviews around the paddock and spending his free time in sither the pink or blue and yellow garage.

Being in Australia a week early was great, they were busy the whole time but Lance enioyed it, loving the time away from his phone and especially away from the media. It made him notice how close Mark and Fernando really were, he felt jealous at times but it was probably just because he was used to having Fernandos attention on him after quali and races, he felt selfish for feeling that way so of course he never addressed it.

"Where are you going first?" Lance asked, looking at Mark, both of them on either side of Fernando

"I was thinking of interviewing people first, it's gonna be weird being the one asking the questions"

"As long as you stay far away from me, we're good"

Fernando shook his head, pulling the taller man closer "We really need to get you used to the media, eh? All you do is complain" He sucked his teeth after he finished teasing Lance, earning nothing but an eyeroll from the teen

"Yeah, yeah." Lance smiled, not able to stop himself when it came to Fernando "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

And with that the race week started.

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major-mads · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.7k

August 3rd, 1943

Ruthie, Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words. Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.

I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear. The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger. I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me. Your Hotshot, Johnny Egan

August 6th, 1943

Dear John, I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it. Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future. Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means. I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts. I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break. Yours, Ruth Morgan P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!

Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork.

“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.

John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”

“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”

The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”

“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”

Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”

“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman.

Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”

Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.

“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”

“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”

Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”

“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.

“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”

John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”

“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.

“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.”

John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast.

Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”

"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot.

Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out.

“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him.

“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him.

Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.”

That was the final straw.

Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.

“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”

“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”

Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool.

It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him.

Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh.

“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.

The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”

“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.”

Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”

“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.”

“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”

John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”

“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”

Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.

His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.

Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.

But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips.

He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.

Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed.

John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?

How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?

He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.

“Dear Ruth.”

Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy

“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand.

“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her.

“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.”

A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect.

Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”

The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky.

Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.

“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body.

“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response.

The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms.

This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun.

Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients.

The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.

Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions.

It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself.

Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along.

Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England.

Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning.

Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him.

The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.

“Goodnight Ladies.”

“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in.

Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.

So much for a warm bath…

Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.

The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed.

“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains.

Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.

Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.

Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress.

Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”

She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:

Sunday, August 8th, 1943

Dear Ruth, I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me. Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough. Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever. In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth. If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you. Yours, John Egan

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it.

“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.

“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.

“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”

Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”

“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.

Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances.

“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.

Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”

As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.

Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”

“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”

Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”

It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”

Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”

“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-

“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”

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