POINTS BABY!!!! P5!!! WOHOOOO!!!!!

*see him anywhere*

Danny Ric: NIIICOOOOOOOO HUUUUUUUULKENBERG!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

So I’ve written my first fanfic in the F1 realm if anyone is I treated in reading it. I’ve waited until I was fully done to publish it because that’s how I prefer to write. I pop in and out of sections, tweaking things until I get the story line the way I want. Maybe one day I will learn how to format stories here with a linked master list (someone show me please!) but until then.. here you go… I figured the world needed more Nico Hulk fanfics

Best birthday gift ever!!!!!

Happy birthday to my friend @pear-1206!!!

Title: “The Birthday Curveball”

It started with a DM.

A playful comment under one of Nico Hülkenberg’s photos:

“If you’re free on June 11, I’ll save you a slice of cake 😌🎂 #BirthdayWish”

He never replied. Of course not. He was a Formula 1 driver. She was just a fan.

But he saw it.

And something about it—her casual tone, the cute selfie on her profile, the fact that she was wearing one of his old caps backwards—stuck with him.

He screenshotted it and forgot about it… almost.

————————————-

June 11th arrived.

It was just supposed to be a quiet birthday. She’d taken the day off work, treated herself to a bakery coffee, and spent most of the afternoon binge-watching old race highlights in pajamas.

Her friends had tried to throw together a dinner, but plans fell apart last minute. One was sick, another stuck in traffic.

So she was alone. A little wistful, but trying not to care. She lit a single candle in her slice of store-bought cake.

“Happy birthday to me,” she whispered with a smile, blowing it out.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

“Check your door. x – N”

She blinked.

Her heart stopped.

No. It couldn’t be.

Still in pajamas, she padded barefoot to the front door, unsure whether to laugh or scream.

And when she opened it—

There he was.

Nico. Hülkenberg.

Standing on her doorstep in jeans and a soft black hoodie, holding a small white box and the most sheepish, adorable grin she had ever seen in her life.

“Happy Birthday,” he said. “I brought cake. And I had some free time.”

She was frozen.

“Um,” she said brilliantly. “Are you real?”

He laughed. “Pretty sure. I had to ask your friend for your address. She told me you loved tiramisu and that you weren’t doing anything big tonight.”

“She knew about this?”

“She helped. Promise it wasn’t too creepy. I figured you invited me first.” He raised his brows.

She gasped. “The Instagram comment! I was joking—”

“I wasn’t.” He stepped forward and lifted the box. “I mean it. If you’re still offering cake, I’m offering company.”

⸻

They sat on her little couch, knees nearly touching. She was still in her pajamas, cheeks hot, mind racing. He told her stories from the paddock, teased her gently when she showed him the poster on her wall, and they laughed like they’d known each other for years.

She forgot to be nervous. He forgot the world outside her cozy apartment.

And when the cake was finished, and he stood to leave, he looked at her like he was memorizing the moment.

“I think birthdays should always come with surprises,” he said softly. “And maybe… next time, you let me plan something even better?”

She nodded, speechless.

Nico smiled.

Then, on her doorway, under the soft golden light—he kissed her cheek.

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured again

Woke up at like 6:40 am (I sleep at 7:30 the night before because I'm so tired, woke up a few times that night until morning), go out for my license, encounters like 3 or 4 cops on the way there (luckily we didn't get pulled over), get back home, had a fight with the entire colony of ants in my bedroom (all is good now🥴), my gramps are being difficult (he's sick), my little brothers being difficult (he's also tired from school), had mental breakdown, cried in the bathroom cause I wanted to hit someone and just shout at someone but still survive the day cause my parents got me cake and food😁😁. On top of that, it's my 20th birthday (12th June). So happy birthday to myself!!! And yeah, summarize my whole birthday cause I wanted someone to know🥺🥺🫂

Ps: Happy birthday to everyone!!!! Whatever or whenever yours is, hope you have a good one and enjoy yourself!!!! ❤️❤️

Toto Wolff with sick!wife reader. She has lost her voice and has to communicate using gestures which Toto and Jack find it amusing. Despite their best, they still tease her. You do however you want. Thanks!! :))

It was no surprise that constant travel took its toll on your health. When you landed in Austin and felt the familiar scratch at the back of your throat, you brushed it off as a consequence of changing seasons. But when you woke up the next morning and found yourself unable to speak, the situation quickly shifted from mild discomfort to concern. Toto, ever the attentive husband, immediately sprang into action, calling everyone he could think of for medical advice. His brow furrowed with worry as he paced around your hotel room, phone in hand, while Jack, your son, sat on the edge of the bed with a grin that spoke of mischief.

“Mom, this is hilarious,” Jack said, eyes sparkling. “You should totally communicate with signs and gestures until your voice comes back.” You playfully ruffled his hair, finding it hard not to smile at his enthusiasm, despite your current predicament.

Soon, the three of you made your way to the paddock under the Texas sun, the warm rays dancing on the concrete as the familiar symphony of engines and chatter surrounded you. Jack trotted along beside you, his grin as wide as ever, while Toto held your hand protectively, glancing at you every few moments as if checking that you were still okay. “Are you feeling alright?” he mouthed, his eyebrows knitted with concern. You responded with a thumbs-up and an exaggerated nod, reassuring him that you were fine despite the loss of your voice.

Jack nudged your arm with that same cheeky smile. “Remember, Mom—big gestures so everyone can understand!” he announced, dramatically waving his arms like he was directing traffic. Toto chuckled, a hint of relief softening his features as he joined in the lightheartedness. You rolled your eyes playfully, tapping Jack’s nose with your index finger as if to say, Behave.

As you entered the paddock, familiar faces greeted you with waves and cheerful calls of “Good morning!” You waved back, responding with silent, animated gestures and a bright smile. Toto, sensing your need for an easier way to communicate, handed you a small notepad. “Looks like we’ll need this today,” he teased, smirking as Jack snatched it out of his hands with excitement.

“Oh, I’ll be in charge of writing what Mom says!” Jack declared, marker already poised. He looked up at you with a grin that promised mischief and you couldn’t help but laugh soundlessly, your shoulders shaking with mirth.

Throughout the day, Jack became your voice, scribbling out messages in his childlike scrawl, sometimes adding his own creative touches. “Mom says to stop calling the doctor, Dad,” one note read, written with a smirk and shown triumphantly to Toto. Toto raised an eyebrow and chuckled, shaking his head. “Outnumbered, I see,” he said, casting you a warm look that made your heart swell.

Jack, finding endless amusement in your silent communication, began mimicking your gestures with exaggerated flair, even getting Toto to get in on the act.

Despite their teasing, the love in their gestures kept you animated. Each shared laugh, every little mock argument over Jack’s interpretations, and Toto’s constant, caring glances reminded you that even when unexpected challenges arose, you had your boys beside you, making everything a little more bearable and infinitely more cherished.

As the day progressed and the Texas sun began to dip, casting a warm golden glow over the paddock, you felt a familiar tickle at the back of your throat. You paused for a moment, touching your neck with hope flickering in your chest. Jack noticed your hesitation and tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Mom? Do you need to write something?” He held up the notepad, ready for your next silent instruction.

Instead, you took a deep breath and whispered, “Jack.” The word was faint, raspy, but it was there.

Jack’s eyes widened as if you had just performed a magic trick. “Dad!” he shouted, leaping up and pulling Toto by the sleeve. “Mom talked! She said my name!”

Toto turned around so quickly that he nearly knocked over a chair. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of disbelief and joy. “Did you really?” he asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

You nodded, and with a small, careful smile, you whispered, “I did.”

Relief washed over Toto’s face, the tension he had been carrying all day melting away. He took your hands in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Thank goodness,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I was about to call for a specialist to fly in.”

Jack laughed, the sound high and full of energy. “See, I told you it would come back if we kept making her laugh!” He glanced at you, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Guess the signs and gestures worked, huh, Mom?”

You chuckled, the sound still scratchy but growing stronger. “I guess they did,” you replied, squeezing Jack’s hand. The three of you stood there, surrounded by the hum of the paddock and the warm glow of the setting sun. It was a simple moment, yet it held a deep sense of gratitude and love.

Toto wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered.

“I’ll try not to,” you said, your voice now a soft echo of its usual tone. Jack leaned in, sandwiching himself between you and Toto with a playful grin. “But can we keep the notepad? That was fun,” he teased, holding it up with pride.

The three of you laughed, the sound filling the space and blending with the noise of the paddock. And in that moment, you realized that no matter what challenges came your way, the bond you shared as a family would always be enough to carry you through.

Mick🫂❤️Simi

🥺🥺

“what my dad was to Sebastian, he is for me”

“you remind me a lot of your dad”

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Feat their son, Jack. She had some sort of trouble breathing but didn't want to alarm Toto or anyone else. Because they're busy preparing for the races. Even other drivers & WAGs ask her if she's alright. Ask me if you want more insight. Thanks!! :)) With prompts :

1)"My chest really... hurts..."

2)"I can't really breathe -"

3)"Don't you dare pass out on me."

4)"Careful you don't fall - gotcha!"

You can choose how many you want to use.

You can choose how many you want to use

Ps : from p✌🏻

“Breathless”

i will always write p’s requests first! hope you like it p

The sun had barely risen over the Silverstone circuit, casting a golden glow across the track as cars roared to life in the distance. It was race day, the culmination of months of tireless effort, strategies, and sacrifices. Every member of the Mercedes team, from the engineers to the drivers to the WAGs, was on edge. But it was a different kind of nervousness for you, the wife of Toto Wolff.

Toto was deep in his preparations, leading the team as always, focused and composed. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders as the team’s success and his drivers’ performance depended on the decisions made in those crucial final moments before the race. But you… you were struggling, and he had no idea.

As the day progressed, the increasing pressure of the crowd and the weight of the upcoming race only made it harder for you to breathe. It started off small—just a bit of tightness in your chest—but over time it became harder to ignore. The subtle discomfort bloomed into something much worse, sharp pangs slicing through your ribcage, leaving you gasping for air. You found it harder to breathe, each inhale feeling like you were suffocating, but you refused to let it show. You couldn’t. Not now. Not when Toto had so much to focus on. He couldn’t know.

You sat quietly in the hospitality area, surrounded by the other wives and girlfriends of the drivers, but you barely heard their chatter over the pounding in your ears. You could feel their concerned glances on you, but you forced a smile, clutching your chest and taking slow, shallow breaths, praying it would pass. The last thing you wanted was to be a distraction.

As you sipped your water, Jack, your young son, came over to you, his little face full of concern.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Jack asked, his innocent voice bringing warmth to your heart, even though your chest burned with every passing second.

You forced a smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Jack seemed to buy it, but the others weren’t so easily fooled.

One of the other drivers’ wives, Sophie, leaned in, her face etched with worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “You don’t look well.”

You nodded quickly, trying to mask the pain behind a veil of reassurance. “I’m fine, just… just a bit lightheaded. Nothing to worry about.”

But Sophie didn’t seem convinced. She glanced at you, and you could tell she wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the loud rumble of an engine firing up on the track.

The tightness in your chest worsened, and you pressed a hand to your ribs, trying to steady your breathing. But it felt impossible. You were suffocating, and the air just wasn’t enough.

You stood up abruptly, trying to mask your discomfort by pretending to stretch. But it only made things worse. Your vision blurred, the edges of the world fading as you tried to push through it. Your breaths became shallow, faster, more frantic. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you stumbled forward, nearly collapsing into the arms of another WAG, who immediately caught you.

“Okay, that’s it,” Sophie said, her voice now filled with urgency. “You’re not fine. Let me get help.”

You shook your head weakly, panic rising in your chest, but you couldn’t argue anymore. Everything was spiraling out of control.

Meanwhile, Toto was deep in a team meeting, his mind on the race, on the strategy, on the stakes ahead. He was so close to achieving his dream for the season, but in the back of his mind, he always made sure to check in on you. Even now, he felt a strange unease tug at him, but he brushed it off. The day was too important.

But then, the call came.

“Toto, it’s your wife. You need to come now,” Sophie said, her voice thick with panic.

His heart stopped, a sinking feeling dropping to the pit of his stomach. He bolted from the room, his legs carrying him faster than he ever thought possible. He had no idea what was happening, but the tone in Sophie’s voice was enough to make his blood run cold.

When he arrived at the hospitality suite, the sight of you, pale and struggling for air, made his chest tighten in an instant. You were leaning against a table, breathing erratically, your hand clutching at your ribs as though you were trying to hold yourself together.

“Toto,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want to worry you…”

Toto’s face went ashen, his eyes wide with fear. “Don’t you dare pass out on me,” he growled, kneeling beside you, gripping your shoulders with a desperation you’d never seen from him before. “Please… just breathe, breathe with me.”

You gasped for air, but it was no use. Your chest constricted even more, the pain unbearable. A cold sweat drenched your skin, and you felt like you were slipping away. You couldn’t breathe.

Toto’s voice broke through the fog of panic, his hands shaking as he pressed you against his chest. “Stay with me, love. Stay with me. I can’t lose you.”

The next few moments were a blur. Paramedics rushed in, lifting you onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, Toto never leaving your side. He was frantic now, a man out of control, his mind racing with fear as he clutched your hand, whispering reassurances he didn’t believe himself. He was terrified.

In the ambulance, the oxygen mask was placed over your face, but the damage had been done. Your heart, strained under the pressure, had given out. You had suffered a heart attack—an event that felt so sudden, so unexpected. The pain, the tightness, the feeling of being trapped in your own body—it all made sense now. But the fear in Toto’s eyes, the way he cried quietly while holding your hand, that was something you couldn’t have prepared for.

“I need you, please,” Toto muttered, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t do this without you.”

You fought for consciousness, focusing on the steady rise and fall of the oxygen as it filled your lungs. Slowly, the tightness eased, and you managed to open your eyes. The first thing you saw was Toto, his face streaked with tears, his expression torn apart with anguish. And then you saw Jack, standing beside him, his little hands clutching his father’s pant leg, looking up at you with eyes wide in fear.

You squeezed Toto’s hand weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay… I’m here.”

Toto’s entire body shuddered as he breathed in, the relief on his face immediate, but his hands remained tight around yours. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, tears welling up in your own eyes now. “I didn’t want you to worry. I just… I didn’t want to be a distraction. Not today.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice low and full of emotion. “You are my world, you are my priority. Everything else can wait. Don’t you ever try to protect me from your pain again. I can’t lose you.”

Toto’s words, raw and vulnerable, tore through you. You had been so determined to stay strong for him, for Jack, for the team. But now, in this moment, you realized that the only thing that mattered was the people you loved.

And you were going to fight for them.

Fight for your life. Because Toto Wolff couldn’t lose his family.

And neither could you.

@pear-1206

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Dancing under the snow at the paddock, under the light. The most romantic thing I think 🤔 Fluff /suggestive. Thanks!!! :))

Snow was not in the weather forecast for today—not that Formula 1 ever cared much about what was forecasted. Magical and slightly chaotic, just like this sport we’d made our life around.

I shivered, pulling my coat tighter around me, my breath puffing out in little clouds as the snow began to fall gently over the paddock. The race weekend had been chaotic, as usual, but now, with the last of the media cleared out and the floodlights casting a golden glow over the white flurry, there was peace.

Well, mostly peace.

Toto was standing a few feet away, talking to one of the engineers with his usual intensity. His broad shoulders were covered in a thick coat, and his breath came out in steady little clouds, punctuating whatever point he was making. I wasn’t listening to the conversation, but knowing Toto, it was probably about data sets, tire degradation, or, heaven forbid, his drivers.

I let out a small, dramatic sigh. The man could charm a room full of sponsors, negotiate with ruthless board members, and occasionally intimidate race stewards, but sometimes, he forgot I existed when there was work to be done.

“Excuse me,” I called out, tapping my foot for added effect. “Do you think you might wrap up your TED Talk on tire temperatures? Your wife is freezing to death.”

Toto turned toward me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Freezing to death? Really? You’re standing next to a heater.”

“Details,” I shot back, pointing up at the snow that was now falling more steadily. “Are you really going to let me perish in this winter wonderland without at least a hot chocolate or a blanket?”

He murmured something to the engineer—an apology, probably—and strode over to me. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Of course I’m dramatic,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself for effect. “You married me, didn’t you?”

Toto chuckled, and the sound warmed me more than the heater ever could. He reached out to brush a few snowflakes from my hair, his touch lingering against my cheek. “Alright, let’s get you inside before you start a rebellion.”

I planted my feet firmly on the ground. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

His eyebrows arched in that way that always made him look simultaneously intrigued and wary. “What now?”

I stepped back and spread my arms, spinning once under the snow. “Dance with me.”

Toto blinked. “Here? In the paddock?”

“No, in Narnia,” I quipped, gesturing at the softly falling snow and the lights above. “Yes, here. Come on, Toto, be romantic.”

He sighed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Hopefully not before I get my dance.”

With a shake of his head, Toto closed the distance between us, his hands finding their place on my waist as if this were something we did every day. The snow fell around us like confetti, and the golden glow of the paddock lights turned everything into a scene straight out of a holiday movie.

“You know,” I said as we swayed gently to a tune that only I could hear, “if someone walks by right now, they’re going to think the stress of the season has finally gotten to you.”

Toto smirked. “Let them think it. I have nothing to prove.”

“Except that you can dance,” I teased, stepping on his foot—purely by accident, of course.

“Careful,” he warned, though his grin widened. “I might let go and leave you to your dramatic demise in the snow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he said, but his hold only tightened, pulling me closer. His touch was warm and steady, and for a moment, I forgot about the snow, the paddock, and even my poor, freezing toes. It was just us, dancing in the quiet magic of the moment.

“Well,” I said after a pause, my voice softer now, “this is officially the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“More romantic than flying you to Vienna for our anniversary?” he asked, his brow lifting in mock offense.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “That had champagne and a five-course meal, sure, but did it have snow falling in the paddock? Did it have impromptu dancing?”

Toto chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me like the coziest fireplace crackle. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, in love with me anyway.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “You’re lucky I am.”

“I’m lucky?” I scoffed, though my cheeks warmed at his touch. “I’m not the one married to a six-foot-something genius with perfect hair.”

Toto laughed outright at that, the sound echoing through the paddock. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good,” I said, grinning. “Because after this, you owe me hot chocolate. And a foot massage.”

He twirled me suddenly, catching me off guard and making me laugh as the snow swirled around us. “Anything else, Your Majesty?”

“Just this,” I said, resting my head against his chest as we settled back into an easy sway. “Just us.”

For a while, we danced in silence, the snow falling softly, the world around us forgotten. It was, perhaps, the most perfect moment we’d ever stolen together.

Reblog because Zhou deserves more attention and appreciation!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻❤️❤️❤️

Simply lovely Zhou. Gutted for VB💔

Sauber's Saviour

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Zhou Guanyu x reader (gender not specified)

Warnings: Just fluff and possibly one small moment of poorly translated Mandarin so I'm so sorry if it doesn't make sense!

Notes: Guanyu deserves some appreciation all the time but especially after that race! Sorry its short but if any of you have any requests for him then I'll happily take them! Written or smau! And idk whether it's Stake or Sauber so haha.

Summary: 22 of 24 races in the 2024 have gone by and Stake/Sauber still have a grand total of 0 points. By the time Qatar rolls around, will their luck be any different?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

You're on the edge of your seat as the final lap comes. P8. To many people that's nothing, in fact it's a bad result. But to you, Guanyu, and everyone in the Sauber garage around you, it's amazing. 3 points. Many would be devastated with that amount but for a team that so far this season only has 0, its amazing. It shows that the work so many have put into the tena really has paid off in one way or another.

You watch with bated breath as Max winds around turn 16, not long to go. You don't even focus on Max crossing the finish line necessarily, you just stare at your boyfriend's name. The graphic of the checkered flag appears next to the drivers just ahead of him as they each cross the finish line.

Russell, Gasly, Sainz. Your breath halts as your boyfriend's biggest inspiration crosses the line, checkered flag appearing next to Fernando's name. And it appears to happen in slow motion as the checkered flag graphic appears on the end of your boyfriends name. No one overtakes him in the last second, he remains P8! You let out a deep breath.

He's done it. You can hardly hear the congratulatory claps from the commentators at your boyfriends expense as everyone in the garage shoots up and cheers, sounds of happiness filling your ears. You're hugged by goodness knows who but you can't really find it in you to care, everyone is enveloping everyone else in warm embraces, one happy affair (and those who aren't are running outside to the pitfall to watch your boyfriend as he zooms past).

You hear Andrea's voice over the team radio and you put on your headphones to hear Guanyu's presumably happy response. Your grin widens at his adrenaline fueled response, carrying profanity, happiness and sheer passion, something that everyone else feels in the garage.

It feels like an eternity until your boyfriend comes back to the garage but when he does, the garage erupts again. He gladly takes the pats on the back from engineers, and various other Sauber staff but his eyes search for a moment, only to look onto yours. You grin, joyfully grinning just seeing him and you walk towards him as he continues to walk to the back of the garage in your direction. You aren't sure who meets who first but it doesn't matter as you crush him in an elated hug. "You did it!"

He nods at your muffled words, your head half hidden in his shoulder. You pull away slightly and Guanyu wastes no time before meeting your lips in a kiss. You both ignore the wolf whistles and claps from the ladish engineers a focus on pouring all of your happiness into the embrace. The kiss is filled with teeth from the both of your grins, emotion and tears that you didn't know you were shedding. You pull away slightly and cradle his face in-between your hands. "I know I always say this but I'm so proud of you. My driver of the day." You smile even more as you come to another realisation. "And everyone else's too!" Guanyu just chuckles, eyes crinkling at the side as he hugs you once again, muffling a small "I love you. Thank you" Before he kisses your temple.

You smile at him once more and you didn't know it was possible but he returns your grin with one of his own, ten times bigger than yours. It doesn't take long for him to be ushered away to go and see the rest of the team in the hospitality but you just watch with joy as away walks your boyfriend. A driver not on the podium, but with reaction far better than one in the top 3 today. A reaction that everyone knows he desrves and knows he needs especially with his lack of seat next year.

But now he's proved a statement. That regardless of people not wanting to give him a drive for the future, he's a damn good driver and deserves to be here just as much as the others, if not more. A media person guides you all into the foyer of the motor home to properly celebrate with the team principal, big sponsors and all the major people within the team.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Do you think that's enough of a message?"the both of you lie in the lavish Hotel room, your back resting against Guanyu's. You hum, a wordless question, asking him to continue. "That I'm not the worst driver." You nod, snuggling into his warmth more. "Of course, everyone knows that the Sauber is..." You both chuckle slightly as you struggle to find a word. "Tedious." "Yes, tedious at times. But you proved that you can get results even out of the worst car. And everyone realises it. Heck even Crofty and Jenson were cheering you on in the commentary box." You pull away and sit up, turning around to face your boyfriend. "And goodness knows people realised that with the driver of the day vote. You probably even converted some Norris and Sainz girls today." Guanyu chuckles and gives you a soft smile. Making you pause. The light from the skyline outside illuminates half of his face. Casting a shadow on his lips and.maiing his eyes all but glisten. You swallow and shake yourself out of your state of asmiration, instead adopting a serious tone.. "No, I'm being honest, I might have to start fending them off with a stick. I can't have anyone else going after my boyfriend, especially not with how successful he is." Guanyu looks down, cheeks warming before pulling you back to his chest. You sqeal slightly and gently tap his chest. "Hey!" He just laughs and kisses your scalp, one hand running up and down your arm as the other lies around your waist.

"Thank you." You furrow your brows at his vulnerable tone. "For everything. For supporting me even when I'm always coming last. It's just- I love you so much." You shake your head, rolling your eyes, catching the 'Man from Shanghai' off guard. Here he was, starting to pour his heart out and you're acting like thi- "You don't always come last silly. Look at today. You came far from last." Guanyu exhales and rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean." You smile at him slightly and relax against his body. The both of you finding a calm rhythm, things on the edge of falling asleep. You lay your head on your boyfriends chest and focus on the soft beat of his heart under his sleep shirt.

Guanyu rubs a hand up and down your back as he feels your breathing soften. After such an incredible day, he's glad to end it like this. Wrapped up with you in his arms, both of you basking in the post points joy. Finally some calm after the storm. Don't get him wrong, he's ever so grateful and happy for the multitude of people coming up to him and congratulating him. But this, this silence is what he loves to bask in. It's a point where he's most content. Just the two of you, it makes him feel like he can do anything (like going and scoring points in an absolute tractor). Guanyu, shuffles slightly, he feels his own eyes flutter to a close, nearing the familiar embrace of sleep.

"Wait!" He startles awake as you shoot up. "We haven't told sweetcorn yet!" He groans "亲爱的..." And as much as Guanyu wants to be a little bit annoyed at you stopping the both of you from entering into a nice, long sleep, he can't help but bask in the tender moment as you steal his phone to facetime his mother, babysitting your cat all the way in England. It really is times like this when Guanyu is the most happy; you caring about him, his family and 'your child' of course (he's very adamant on calling sweetcorn your child, contrary to many believing that you push the title). Which is why he happily sinks back into the pillows as he hears you dial his mother, easy smile on his face ad he lets the events of today wash over him, your voice coaxing him into a happy slumber.

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

it is a knife - jack abbot.

pairing: jack abbot x reader.

warnings: very lightly implied smut. a knife? lol

summary: a lull in your shift allows for some quiet time with Jack which is suddenly interrupted by the wielding of a knife.

word count: 700+

a/n: not edited or proofread at all!! I wrote this literally in an hour. ho-ho-holy shit it’s been a minute since I’ve posted on here but, I’m back? Sort of?

It was a quiet night in the ER— more so than normal. It almost made you miss the chaos. Almost. Because while the chaos guaranteed your shift went faster, sometimes not even that could compare to the moments hidden in the quiet. When on the rare occasion, during a lull in the night and there were only one or two people in the waiting room, every patient behind the doors sound asleep and all the staff caught up on their work, did it allow you a couple of minutes alone with your husband— the familiar feeling of his solid arms sliding around your waist from behind putting you further at ease.

“Hi,” Jack murmurs against your neck, pressing a kiss to the spot and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you whisper back, giving his hand that rests on your middle a squeeze before going back to making your cup of tea.

“Tea?” you offer.

He shakes his head with a pleased sigh, “I’m quite happy with what I have right now.”

Your eyes widen, feeling just how happy he was as he pulled you closer to him— something hard pressing into your lower back.

“I can tell,” you breathe a laugh and turn around in his arms.

Draping your arms around his neck, you reach up to press a soft kiss against his lips, his arms tightening around you and holding you in place to pull you back in for another but you deny him to peer through the small window in the door to make sure no one was coming toward the tea room.

“All clear?” He muses, when your gaze returns to him.

You roll your eyes but, allow him to pull you into another kiss. Slow and tender, his mouth coaxes your own open to snake his tongue into yours. You moan at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours, arms tightening around him as his hardness presses into your lower stomach—

“Fuck-” you whine, breaking the kiss.

Jack doesn’t let up though, continuing to press hot, wet kisses down your neck, his hands sliding down your body and finding perch on your ass to press you even closer to him—

“Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just that excited to see me?” you tease breathlessly but, your words seem to halt his ministrations.

“What?” you ask, head dipping to meet his gaze and concern lacing your voice at the odd look in his eyes. “Jack, what is it?”

“Uh— actually,” he removes one of his arms from around you to reach into his pocket.

“It uh— it is a knife,” he pull an all black switch blade out and shows it to you. “It’s that one I was telling you about a couple of weeks ago, remember? The one I said I ordered? It was just delivered yesterday. Here-”

You stare at your husband, absolutely bewildered and pressing a hand to your mouth while he shows it off to you, describing its different features and demonstrating them too—

“Oh my god,” you whisper from behind your fingers. The moment was completely shattered and god, if it was anyone else… but, it wasn’t anyone else. It was Jack. Your Jack and you couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled and filled with more love for him than you knew you were capable of as his eyes lit up every time he looked at you or showed you something new on the blade that he should’ve absolutely not been carrying around on him but was anyway. “Oh Jack, baby, you are so lucky I am so in love with you.”

“What? Why?” he questions, brows furrowing in complete oblivion but, you give him a moment to catch on.

“Oh-” he says, mouth forming an ‘o’ to match. “Oh- baby- I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay,” you hum your amusement, folding the blade up and placing it in the breast pocket of his scrub top.

Leaning back against the counter, you watch as he closes his eyes and grimaces— the corner of your lips twitching as you suppress your smile. A small laugh escaping you a second later as he groans and falls forward into your arms, his head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into his back.

“If it’s of any consolation, I also was and most definitely still am excited to see you,” Jack mumbles into your neck, pressing his indeed hardened member into you.

You don’t suppress the laughter that bubbles out of you this time, arms wrapping around him as you pepper his reddened cheeks and neck with kisses.

Yeah, you lived for these quiet moments.

-

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