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Charles Leclerc x Kpop idol!reader

Summary: When kpop meets formula 1 and its a relationship PR stunt. What happens then?

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: after a long long long while, we are so back! Congrats for charles winning his home race. Let me know what you think or if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

Cause what if I was in love What if I can't have us.

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, todayis_wendy, and 790,456 others

xoxo_y/n 💍💖

user8 MOTHERRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

user4 she remembered her account again!!!

user10 can we get a smile miss maam???

user11 she is ice princess for a reason duhh user10 it wouldn't hurt for her to smile sometimes

user55 someone tell me why charles is in the likes??

user7 charles??? like king charles?? user67 dumb dumb, its charles leclerc

user90 another day, another slay from Y/N

Y/N have never been a fan of fake dating.

However, it was not an uncommon practice in the industry. If someone wants to hide their relationship, create a fake relationship to throw off the media. If someone wants to boost their popularity, fake a relationship and get the attention.

It amazes her how good people play that part of being in love when they are really not. The thought of it also disgust her because she can't even control her emotions to the people she doesn't like let alone pretend to love someone.

So this entire meeting seems ridiculous.

"Isn't there any other way to solve this situation by not doing this?"Y/N asked.

"The company doesn't want to give you a comeback until your popularity rises and this fake relationship will guarantee a boost" the manager convinces "You are the only girl in your group that has not been involved in any dating scandals"

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing I'm not into scandals"Y/N rebutted

"Normally it is but your image is not doing well because everyone thinks you are too cold and unreachable"

Y/N slumps back at her chair, there is really no way out of this.

"C'mon Y/N, do it for the team please"the manager begged "Think about Wendy, Joy, Seulgi, and Yeri. This whole thing will do them good"

As the leader of the group, this was her main weakness. She will do anything for the betterment of the group. Its what a good leader does.

"Just make him someone nice" Y/N surrenders.

The immediate change in expression almost made Y/N retract everything she said. This was happening whether she likes it or not for there was already a plan in mind. With her verbal agreement, its set to motion.

"Don't worry, he is a very nice guy" the manager assures "It's that f1 driver, Charles Leclerc"

Y/NFansite Y/N was just spotted boarding a flight to Japan.

user4 what is she doing in japan??

user2 what is she doing alone in japan? user3 japan huhhhh

user7 safe flight y/n

user8 it might seem crazy what im about to sayyyyyy

user9 i love love her airport fashion so chic and comfy

She knew that she should have listened to the members advice to look up her "boyfriend" but of course Y/N was too stubborn. Now, she is here sticking like a sore thumb and looking like a headless chicken in the Ferrari garage.

This was the week that they are supposed to be soft-launching their relationship. She haven't even meet the guy yet, she resist the urge of rolling her eyes as cameras might be lurking.

"Love the color of your nails" the voice comes from behind.

Y/N snaps her head giving her famous resting face as she meets the grinning Charles Leclerc.

"Ferrari Red or Red Velvet?" Charles wondered.

"It can be either"she shrugs.

He sits next to her. He was a little bit taller than her even when they are sitting down. She noticed the friendship bracelets that that he wears on his wrist with red and yellow as its dominant colors.

It was the first time that she has been able to take a long look at the man, she has seen posters of him at the train station. She will admit that she kind of sees why the girls were shrieking when they looked up the photo of Charles. He certainly looks good and she bets he knows it too with that charming smile plastered on his face.

"My name is Charles, sorry that it took me so long to meet you"Charles held out his hand

"Y/N, nice to meet you"

She didn't reach out to touch his hands in return, she just wants enough distance as much as she could. After all this whole thing is just a pretend thing.

Charles didn't seem to be dismayed by the action and he smoothly covers it up by running his open hand to his hair. He continues to smile at her brightly.

"Ice princess right?"he mentions the nickname.

"How do you know that?"Y/N asked

"I googled you last night" Charles replied "Of course I have to know something about my new girlfriend."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn at the way he spoke girlfriend. It was uttered in such a teasing manner that she is beginning to understand how some people are good at making fake dating situation work.

"I didn't look you up"Y/N admits.

She was expecting to see a falter or a tinge of disappointment but the smile on Charles face only went wider. It's as if he was a kid given a his wish on Christmas day.

"Well then that's perfect" Charles clapped his hands "We have some time before free practice, I could show you around and I could talk to you about Formula 1"

Charles_LeclercUpdate Charles is spotted walking with kpop leader Y/N before FP1. They were also spotted hanging out after free practice.

User4 what????

User7 BIG DAY FOR THE KPOP X F1 GIRLIES (its me)

User8 so that's why she went to japan!!!

User9 omgggg they will be a power couple

User14 y/n pick anyone, pick anyoneeeeeeeeeeeeeee. leave my husband alone

"Sooooooo when are we meeting our new brother-in-law?"Wendy asked.

The minute that Y/N steps back to Korea, she was immediately bombarded by her members regarding her Japan trip. They were all over their groupchat and they kept sending the photos that were tweeted by fans during the weekend.

"I think he will be busy a lot"Y/N answered "You might not meet him any time soon"

The Japanese GP was quite disappointing for Charles with him landing on a P4 and missing out on a podium. Although if Y/N could argue, she overheard people talking about how Charles did extremely well especially with the one-stop strategy. Y/N mentioned it in their conversations but Charles still insist that he has to do better so he will be training a lot.

"Tell me you took pictures"Joy asked

Y/N nodded her head as she opened up her phone. Her gallery was filled with a lot of pictures during the weekend. There were also some fans of Charles that she took photos with.

They stumble upon a selfie by Charles and Y/N, they could not stop giggling.

"Unnie, you two looks so good"Yeri, the youngest cheers "Everyone keep saying how you two are the original visual"

"What if this can be your first real relationship" Seulgi encourages.

"This is just work Seulgi"Y/N reiterated "We'll fake date for a year and a half then its done"

Before the members could voice out their protest, the door rings.

"Did you guys order food or something?"Y/N asked.

The four other members shook their head communicating that there is a stranger outside the door. Y/N cautiously opens the door because she didn't want her private apartment leaked to fans.

Y/N felt a sigh of relief upon seeing the lady at the frontdesk of her building. What was highly unusual was the bouquet of red flowers of various shades and sizes that she was holding.

"Y/N, I wanted to give this to you because I think your boyfriend forgot your room number"she greeted.

Stunned silence, she wasn't aware that there was something to do for today. She normally doesn't gush but receiving flowers is something really nice. Y/N mutters a small thanks before getting the flower and getting inside.

"Ohmygod, that must be from Charles"Yeri was jumping up and down "Isn't he romantic?"

"What did he sent it for?"Joy quizzes.

Y/N picked up the card and saw a scrawl signed by Charles' name.

"I never got to thank you for being with me during the weekend. Thank you for being a wonderful addition to the garage. Its nice to see you. I'm hoping to see you maybe in Shanghai?"Y/N reads.

"You have to go!!!"Wendy pushed.

"Unnie c'mon bring us with you"

"Let me see the letter"

While the girls were busy talking, Y/N took the opportunity that they were occupied to quiz the man who sent the flowers.

Y/N: Why did you send the flowers? Charles: You don't like it :<< Y/N: Well, I love it and I appreciate that. Y/N: Should I post this on social media or something to tag you? Charles: I just want you to enjoy the flowers. I really appreciate meeting you. Charles: Have a great day cheri Y/N: Thanks Charles, you too!

Charles_Leclerc what a weekend, shanghai you have been great.

User4 what a weekend for feudrari

User5 Charles you look so good!!!!!

User10 a smiling Y/N???? WHAT IS HAPPENING

User45 am i the only one thinking how random this whole relationship is?

User7 i know like who introduced them??? User8 ngl i dont give a crap, i just think they are perfect with each other

She was easily getting a hang of this new life. She feels like as an idol, she was well-prepared with the flashing cameras and the people bombarding her wherever she goes. It was no big deal for her to stop by and meet people since everyone seems to want a picture or a sign of Charles.

"Y/N can you give this to Charles?"

"This bracelet is for you and Charles"

"Would you sign this?"

"Y/N I hope you can have a comeback soon!"

There were so many voices and people. She kept a smile on her face as she tries to navigate her way out of the crowd. There is probably an increase in the amount of people crowding her since she is now known as Charles' girlfriend besides being an idol singer.

The crowd was moving in a snail pace and she politely thanked people giving her gifts for her or even the ones that are supposed to be for Charles. She was so preoccupied that Y/N didn't notice that Charles was worriedly squeezing his way to the crowd to retrieve her.

"Excuse me, can you give her some space please"Charles tried to get a hold of her.

"I'm okay"she squeaked.

Still, Charles waded through the crowd and once within reach he interlocked his hands with her. Y/N also noticed how his other hand has been gently placed at her back in a protective manner as if he is guiding her.

There were cameras flashing and Y/N felt a cap being placed on her head. She can see the number 16 etched on the flap of the cap and Charles suddenly missing his iconic hat.

"Please don't crowd my girlfriend please" Charles begged the crowd "I don't want her harmed or you guys to be harmed so lets just calm down"

It felt like Charles has a certain pied-piper charm to his voice because people listened. The two of them made their way to the garage and Y/N didn't miss how he still kept the protective arm gesture.

"You should have used the more private gate, next time I'll teach you that so you won't be bomarded by people" Charles explained "You could have been lost in the crowd if Fred didn't tell me"

The worried look on Charles face was evident. He was looking at her if she had any bruises or scratches, he knows that there was a tendency for avid fans to accidentally leave some scratches.

"Charles, I'm okay" Y/N rested a hand on his shoulders to soothe him "This is not my first time to deal with crowds"

"I know but I don't want to create a bad experience for your grand prix, you might not want to go next time"Charles pouts.

"I can assure you that it will take more than a crowd to scare me into not going to Grand Prixs"

Y/N's remark seems to place a smile on Charles' face and she couldn't help but to smile as well. It was simply infectious for Charles to do that.

"Good because I want to keep inviting you to more Grand Prix"Charles stated.

xoxo_Y/N 🎹🎵 #solo

User1 were finally getting an Y/N solo ???? FINALLY

User2 Y/N SOLO???

User3 I spy with my little eye, thats charles!!!!

User16 CHARLES WILL BE PLAYING FOR YOUR SOLO??? User24 no wayyy!!!!

User15 were going to be blessed!!!

Todayis_wendy why are we not informed???

xoxo_Y/N he is only here for a couple of days Charles_Leclerc I promise, I'll hang out next time! Todayis_wendy get me some gp tickets in canada and were good! Charles_Leclerc that can be arranged user55 wendy here is getting the bag LOL

After a couple of grand prix, it was now time for Charles to enter her world.

Its the summer break, they made use of the time by bringing Charles to Korea. Y/N had a lot of things planned because she wanted to treat Charles with the whole korean experience but her company had other plans.

"I'm really sorry, this will be just a quick thing" Y/N apologized as they walked the halls of the recording studio.

"No worries, I don't have anything planned" Charles smiled.

"This will be just 30 minutes or so then we can go exploring again" Y/N explained.

"Hey, its okay. "Charles assures "This is your world and you know I'm really happy to see you do your thing"

Y/N felt something weird again with how Charles placed his hands on top of hers. It wasn't her nerves because she recorded multiple times so this is something else. In the back of her mind, she knows what exactly this is but she wants to deny it for a little bit longer.

"There you are Y/N, I'm sorry but your recording last week glitched" The producer noticed she wasn't alone "We might rerecord"

"Can we do a quick run?" Y/N pouted.

"It might take some time"

She helplessly looked at Charles expecting him to be disappointed. Charles has a big supportive smile on his face as if reassuring her that she could take all the time she needs.

"I'm alright being here, your studio is awesome" Charles piped in

He was immediately making his way to the piano and looking over to the other equipment in the studio. Y/N noticed that Charles has a certain crinkle in his eyes when he is in awe with things, she used to see it with the cars.

"You wanna play?" Y/N asked

Charles looked at her as if she was kidding. He looked to the producer, seeking confirmation, and the producer just gives a go signal.

"I mean, maybe I can contribute to your recording"Charles suggested.

"Gee, are you coming after my job?"Y/N joked

"Maybe I'm just trying to do this so we can spend more time together" Charles winks.

And so the re-recording started. Charles was busy playing and making suggestions, which the producer takes into account. He even made a rough draft of a new song that Y/N noticed when he stepped out to take a call.

"Your boyfriend has an ear for music"The producer admits.

"It seems so"

Y/N glanced at the musical notes and lyrics that he has written. It was something that she might have to discuss with Charles soon because these have big potential to be a part of an album.

"You two are a match-made in heaven"

The comment caught her off-guard. It was her internal crisis that she was getting used being with Charles and it reached to the point that they are still acting like they are together even without cameras on them.

Is everything still pretend?

Charles_Leclerc Red Velvet should be played at the garage tbh

Arthur_Leclerc a blast to see her perform!!!

xoxo_y/n thanks arthur! Arthur_Leclerc my bias is Yeri btw! any chance you can get me one of those yeri card? xoxo_y/n talk to her yerimiese yerimiese hi???

xoxo_y/n consider me surprised, thanks for seeing us perform

Charles_Leclerc wouldn't miss it for the world mon chou! user81 the nickname is mon chou???? user50 i want what they have

user9 the fact that charles literally took the time to surprise his gf by staying lowkey and buying tickets like a fan would, Y/N wins the jackpot!!!!

User4 what a supportive boyfriend, i wish my boyfriend is like this

User7 why is that every time Y/N smiles, charles is always there at the receiving end??

User8 i wanna go to a red velvet concert too!!!

Charles knew that this was beyond the contract but he was pretty curious after knowing that this was Red Velvet's first european tour. Y/N was always doing her best to be present in GPs and he wanted to return the favor. He had a bit of free time and he did a little snooping.

"Let me ask you why did you call me here again?"Arthur asked.

"I need you to go on your laptop and get tickets"Charles repeated.

"Tickets for what?"

"Red Velvet tour in Paris"Joris answered.

He really brought the whole battalion to secure the concert tickets. From what he researched, it was quite chaotic once the ticket starts so he enlisted everyone within the vicinity. This is why Joris and Arthur are camped in his living room with their laptops on.

"You know I honestly think we shouldn't go with this big of a trouble when we can just call her and ask for tickets"Joris added

"But she will be surprised and this is too sweet of a gesture" Arthur cooed "I'm definitely down to do this"

"We have to focus on getting the tickets"Charles reminded.

They watched as the clock ticked closer to the selling time and then it was quite chaotic at the household. Charles would like to think that his fast reflexes would be a great advantage to this but it was all futile.

"What do you mean that were in line?"

"My site just crashed"

"This button is not working, what is this wifi?"

"WHY IS THIS SO STRESSFUL?"

Charles_Leclerc recharging the batteries with her.

xoxo_y/n i dont wanna leave monaco

Charles_Leclerc stay with me even longerrrrr hi_sseulgi stop stealing her!!! Charles_Leclerc sorry lolz user9 lolz, charles ur so unserious

user4 posting two photos of Y/N and one of him, he is head over heels

user7 i mean if Y/N is my girlfriend then i will do the same!

user16 i just wanna take a long walk and lie down the highway

xoxo_y/n always so proud of you Charlie!

Charles_Leclerc thank you! i couldn't ask for anyone better to support me

xoxo_y/n saranghaeeeee Charles_Leclerc love you more mon chou

user12 im not a huge fan of Y/N but she is always there to support Charles therefore i like her a lot

User5 why are they so wholesome???

User6 i just saw them walking to the paddock and how Y/N looked so proud of Charles is everything

Charles finds that Abu Dhabi is that one track he hates every season.

It serves as a bitter reminder that another season is ending and he doesn't have a championship in his belt. It was a heavy burden on his shoulder especially when everyone has dubbed him as someone who will bring back the glory days of Ferrari.

"You look exhausted"Y/N pointed out.

He was so into his thoughts that he didn't notice her arrival.

"When did you get here? I'm sorry if I wasn't able to pick you up at the front"Charles apologized.

"It's okay Charles"Y/N assured "But are you okay?You seem a bit out of it"

"Just a lot of things"Charles sighed.

Charles fiddles with his ring, a habit that Y/N observed that Charles do when he is stressed. After being together for nearly 10 months, even if its fake, Y/N was observant to pick up these characteristics.

"You could tell me anything"

Something that Charles learned that despite the whole cold atmosphere and aura Y/N has, she was a very good listener and comforting shoulder to cry on.

"It's just the championship, I wish I could have a better car and a better chance to win this thing"Charles admitted.

"You always have next year" she suggested

"Maybe but everyone is getting restless"Charles' voice felt like cracking "Next year, its a new team mate and a new car and new struggles"

"Well no one said that the road to championship would be easy"Y/N said "Things are never easy but that's what makes victory so sweet"

Y/N's hand reached to touch Charles to stop him from fidgeting his ring. There was that feeling of warmness again but this has been occurring for so long that this was not a foreign feeling anymore.

"You'll get it next year Charles"

"Thanks for believing in me Y/N"

Charles_Leclerc love spending time with you as always!

user8 the rings??? dont tell me you two are engaged???

user76 im so happy to see them be like this huhuhu

user2 i love it how open Y/N and Charles is about their relationship

user6 why is she in monaco again? doesn't she have a job or sumthing?

user7 jealous much?? user8 why does she need to work when charles can provide

It was so easy to do the whole relationship with Charles that they haven't noticed that a good year and a half has been done. Y/N knew that sooner or later the phone call will inform her that its time to call it off but she would like to pretend that its never happening.

"Charlie!"she greeted as soon as she enters the apartment "I remember we were running low on fruits so I bought some apples and oranges while I was going home"

Y/N frowns because usually Charles would come running already to ask what did she get but today there was a certain stillness. She immediately went to Charles' office and she spotted him in front of his laptop.

In her heart, she knows what's happening judging the grim look on his face.

"We need to talk" Charles broke the ice "I just got the email"

Y/N understood english but why are the words like floating in the air and not making any sense to her. She felt like she could just vomit at the moment with the amount of stress.

Everything was coming to an end.

"Hey, hey look at me Y/N" Charles held her hand "This whole thing may be over and we just need to give it a few months but we are still friends"

Friends? That was even more painful than ever. How can Y/N go from acting all domestic and being a couple to simply being reduced to a friendship. She clutches the necklace hanging around her neck as if it was the thing suffocating her.

"Do you need water?" Charles asked

"I need to go"

"Go? Where are you going?" Charles was confused.

But Y/N was already picking up her bag and things. She felt so claustrophobic being in Charles' place and having so many thoughts running in her mind. She just wants to get away.

"I just need to go for now Charles"Y/N repeated.

"Mon chou, you don't seem like in a good state to drive by yourself, let me drive you mon chou-"

"Don't call me that"Y/N snapped.

There were so many emotions in Y/N's eyes. It was filled with regrets, begging, and most of all pain. It was swimming with emotions that he was lost at what to do.

"This whole thing is about to be over so I think its best to start dropping nicknames so its easier for us to part"Y/N's response was on autopilot and Charles could only nod in agreement.

soompi Red Velvet leader Y/N and Scuderia Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc confirms break up.

user4 what???did i miss something???

user88 you have got to be kidding me!!

user7 i knew it, they were bound to end.

user9 good news, my wife is freee!!!!!

User8 we are checking, we are checking

"Charles?" Y/N's voice felt like fresh air for Charles.

He can't see her but he can feel how there was so much that has changed about her. There was this certain tone and intonation that he remembers whenever she speaks to him. Now, its just empty and void of emotions.

Its been 2 weeks since they received the termination email and they haven't been together in the same place ever since. Frankly, Charles misses her.

"Charles, are you there?"Y/N asked "I'm gonna hang up this phone if you're not going to speak because I have some stuffs to do so-"

"Don't hang up.. please"Charles interrupted "I just didn't know what to say to you"

There was a silence on both ends of the phone call but their heavy sighs acknowledges that they are still both on the line. They are both waiting for each other to say something.

"You know its snowing today" Charles started.

"The first snow?"

"Yeah and I remember that you told me that in Korea that whole tradition about when the first snow falls then you have to call someone really special"Charles remembered.

"Charles don't do this"she begs.

"Don't do what?"

"This, whatever this is. It has to stop because were about to announce to the world that were breaking up and we have to adjust back to what we used to be"Y/N said.

She was begging Charles to give her some time and space. It was for her own good because she knows that she was already in too deep with this whole fake relationship and its going to break her the minute that this whole thing finally ends.

"I like you Y/N" Charles was first to cave in "I have been thinking about this for months that I really like spending time with you and I really like you way beyond than this whole fake dating thing"

There was desperation in Charles' voice and it was not comforting for Y/N to hear it. She often hears that love is not supposed to be something that scares you, it should be your peace or tranquility.

"This is all wrong, you're only saying that because we spend too much time together"Y/N denies.

"Then we can start this again. Properly and real this time around" Charles insisted "We can hide away this relationship from the media, we can do secret studio session, we can just have private vacations here in Monaco"

Everything was too good for Y/N to be real. She was scared that she might wake up and this is all a dream for her.

"I like you Charles but I think I needed time to process this whole thing"Y/N answered "We have to think this through because I think were transitioning from everything way too fast. We're acting and now we're turning this to something real."

And there was silence, she knows that she messed up by being too open and too direct about what she's feeling.

"You're scared?" Charles asked

"Yeah"

"Okay then I'll wait for you until you're no longer scared"

Y/N felt like she could cry with how Charles replies. It was somehow very comforting to hear that he wouldn't run away and that he would be here.

"And when you feel like you are no longer scared and afraid then I'll be here" Charles assures.

CharlesY/NUpdates is Y/N and Charles back together?? We spotted a new girl in his vlogs and it looks like Y/N. The photo from the left is a screenshot from Charles' new vlog while the one on the right is a photo of Y/N in her IG a few weeks ago.

User4 ohmygod!!! I KNEW IT!!!

User7 anyone thinks that the timeline isn't adding up because Y/N hasn't left korea

User8 we don't know if she's been riding private jet planes

User91 no, that's not Y/N. Look at her nose

User20 and the skintone User4 but they look eerily similar

Its been 8 months since they "broke up" and true to their words they haven't been contacting each other. They really took the words taking time to navigate what they are feeling so that they can work things out properly this time.

Y/N is currently doing some songwriting when the members barged in her room. They were giggling and excited that it made Y/N confused if she missed any new memes.

"Okay what is going on"Y/N asked, putting down her pen.

"Oh c'mon unnie, why are you still hiding from us?"Yeri giggled

"Yeah, did we really have to know things from the internet" Wendy agreed.

This only confuses her even more and the members seem to realize that Y/N truly didn't know anything.

"Unnie be real with us? Is this you" Joy asked.

Scrolling past the different set of photo of Charles and mystery girl, Y/N felt her heart drop.

"I haven't talked to Charles ever since.."Y/N admitted.

There were so many questions in her head if this is one of those fake ones or is this a true relationship. Truthfully, she didn't want to know the answer because it will only pain her more.

"What are you going to do about this Y/N? I thought you two are working things out to be real"

"I don't know.."

There was something broken about Y/N that she can't feel anything.

WagF1 look at the new gf of Charles Leclerc and his past gf, does charles get deja vu?

user6 charles i cannot defend you with this

User7 its called, he has a type!!!

User88 i miss Y/N and charles

User9 can you all get over the old ones, they have new lives already

CharlesY/NUpdates Charles and Y/N at the same event tonight! After a year of their break up!

User6 anyone wanna bet with me that there will be chaos

User8 nah Alex and Y/N are too sweet to be involved in a fight User10 oh to be a fly in that room

User1 did they know about this or are they as surprised as each other?

User2 i mean if my ex shows up looking like that, i would have started packing my bags

User3 but alex is also too beautiful!!! User72 alex looks like Y/N

User84 i just miss Y/N at the paddock :((

If Y/N has been informed that Charles would be in attendance then she would have called in sick or skipped her flight. It was a punch in the gut to see him but she felt like someone twisted the knife when she saw the company he was with.

Alex, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

They were a few tables away from Y/N's table but to her luck she has the perfect view of the couple. She have to thank the years of media training that she underwent during her debut days that prevents her from showing any emotions she is feeling at the moment.

"Y/N do you want to switch seats?" Seulgi asked

"I'm okay, I don't wanna make anymore trouble"

She watches how Alex whispers to Charles and how he nods in attentiveness. It was the same way that Charles used to talk to Y/N when she was fake dating him.

How is this not confusing for Charles? This was the question that bothers Y/N.

"I need to go and powder my nose a quick second" Y/N bids the table.

The members look at their leader with a worried expression but they let her off. Y/N went outside of the hall and out of the view of the cameras. She was suffocating in that room.

The door creaks open again and she fears that oh so familiar footsteps.

"YN"

"Charles"she greeted without stopping with her stride.

"I need a second with you"Charles was catching up.

"I don't have a second for you"

"C'mon Y/N hear me ou-"

Charles grabbed Y/N's wrist and she made a mistake of facing him. Everything just comes flooding in her memory and she hates herself so much that none of these feelings have any semblance of hatred towards the man.

"Give me a chance to explain myself. I know this is all so confusing for you and I know that I hurt you but I didn't mean to do that to you"Charles explained.

Another mistake that Y/N did was she looked him straight to the eye. It was a recipe for disaster as months of trying to heal suddenly went down the drain.

"I love you. I really do. And I waited for you and then Alex entered and then I liked her a lot and I know this is not an explanation that you need but you deserve to hear this and-"

The whole thing was passing on deaf ears because Y/N already confirmed what she was feeling ever since the first sentence. She was ready to settle this out even if it hurts her.

"Loved Charles. You loved me"Y/N points out "Past tense"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You love Alex now right so you only loved me" Y/N restates.

Charles was at a lost for words.

"You shouldn't feel guilty, I can see it in your eyes that you truly love Alex." Y/N explains "I'm happy that its something real and sure"

Real and sure, its something that she cannot give but she is happy someone else can give that to Charles.

"But what about you?"Charles asked

"My feelings, I'll get over it."Y/N knows that she has to.

They stand there with a more comfortable silence.

"Does that mean were okay? No more hard feelings?"Charles wondered

"of course charlie"she musters a smile.

"Great" Charles awkwardly runs a hand down his hair

"You should get back to the hall, I'm sure Alex would be wondering where you went"Y/N suggested.

"What about you?"

"I'll follow soon, I just need to go to the bathroom"

"Okay Y/N, I'll see you inside later" Charles replied.

The fading footsteps of Charles allowed Y/N to let out a heavy sigh. She briskly walked to the bathroom and in the far end of the stall, she locks herself. It was the only moment that she allowed herself to be true to whatever it is she feeling.

She did everything good but why does she feel like crying now.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #the tortured drivers department #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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jacaerysgf · 22 hours

Text

Chapter one: The return to the keep

c.s: You have finally returned to the red keep after over a decade. You see some familiar faces and,,, have the affections of more than one prince? what was going on...

w.c: 6.1k

c.w: not proofread, arryn!reader, basically a lot of set up, the boys just kinda being obsessed, men bickering... i think thats it

fic masterlist!

You stare at the large metal doors of the keep. You had been traveling on carriage fora week now, your back hurts, your legs hurt but you are finally here. for the first time in a very very long time.

The red keep. You remember the last time you had stepped foot in here like it was yesterday. It had been over a decade. You had been ten years old when you left but had been living in the keep since you were a babe. You made many lovely memories, and you had especially made some lovely friends. The children of rhaenyra and the children of alicent. You thought about them often as you were rather lonely in the eyrie with not having any siblings or there not being many other children there,

You were not invited to driftmark as it was purely a family affair and you remember them giving you hugs and saying goodbye, little did they or even you know that was the last time you would see them. You had stayed in the keep, trying to entertain yourself until they returned back until you received word from your mother to return home as she had heard of what had happened on driftmark and no longer believed the keep to be well suited for you.

You cried for awhile and begged your mother to let you go back, even if it was just a day to speak to them once more but she had refused and kept firm to her decision. Until a week ago when she received a raven hand written from rhaenyra herself stating that not only herself but her children had missed you and wished you would stay at court for awhile, at least until you find a husband. Of course your mother cannot refuse the queen so you packed up your things and you are now standing in the keep.

Your new home at least for awhile. It looks different. The area was very busy though that is not surprising considering probably everyone who has a title was in the keep today. You can see them hanging the signature sigil of house Targaryen all over the walls of the keep.

You can barely believe you were back here again.

Your mother hums at your side, hugging the shawl she was wearing closer to her chest. “It smells here. You truly had lived like this for that long?” Jessamyn, your mothers,,, ‘companion’ as she asked you to call her despite knowing the true nature of their relationship, shoves jeyne lightly with her elbow, “You should not say such things. She must be happy to be back in the keep for the first time do not ruin it.”

You do not get an opportunity to reply not that you would have anything to say before you are swiftly lead through the halls of the keep that you remembered and asked to stand relatively close to the throne. The hall is very full and very loud, full of chatting ladies and lords. You keep close to your mother, who glares at anyone who even tries to speak to her, she's not a very talkative women, very content with the small circle around her but she knows they do not wish to speak to her to keep friendly relations.

You are of marrying age, some would even say you are over due on getting married as many girls your age would already be having their second kid. Your mother never rushed your marriage, saying you are free to do as you pleased, she was trapped in her marriage and was more then happy when he died. She did not wish for the same fate for you and allowed you to pick your own husband, which lead to you rejecting suitors left and right.

You know one day you will have to marry, to continue your line, you are to be the next ruler of the eyrie as your mother states constantly. You need a husband, but you do not wish to worry about that now.

You had not expected the keep to be so packed but it is to be expected. Rhaenyra has officially named her heir and everyone had come to bend the knee. The room completely silences as rhaenyra is announced by a guard and you stand tall as she enters the room and greets the crowd.

You don’t mean to zone out, it is not her fault this whole affair is quite boring. Getting lost in your thoughts. You keep your head down until your mother swiftly smacks you on the shoulder and your head gets pulled up.

You freeze at the sight before you.

“Oh gods.” You find yourself whispering under your breath.

Jacaerys Velaryon.

Dawned in a Targaryen red cloak with a crown on his head he looked like a true king. With his long black curls and sharp jaw he looks like he was a statue come to life. A statue should be made of him in the finest gold as you believe that is the only thing that could even come close to doing him justice. He keeps his head held up high as people begin to get called up and they bend the knee without complaint.

You gulp. He is very different from the young boy you had known before. He was a man. A very handsome man. You two had been close when you were younger, he trailed around with you and would beg you to join him and his family for dinner. He was always sweet to you though you knew of his more teasing habits. You had not thought much about him when you were younger, only truly seeing him as a friend but him now?

You and your mother get called up to bend the knee. You try to keep your balance steady as you cling to your mothers arm the closer and closer you get to him. You two lock eyes and you swear you see a new glow in his irises as he gazes upon you.

His eyes widen as he does not take his eyes off you even when you bend down on your knee and lower your head. You try to keep your shaky breath in control as you close your eyes. If he was handsome from far away he was so much better up close. You did not know if your heart could handle this, the way it pounds as you stand and lower your head in a light bow to him. You expect to be dismissed and the next person to be called up but he instead takes a couple steps towards you and extends his hand out to you. You stare at it with wide eyes and look up at him, his expression is the same as before, but this time he has a light smile on his face.

You place your hand in his and he brings the back up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin his eyes never leaving yours before he lets his hand linger against yours for a moment before he slips from your grasp and takes the steps back. Before you can even process what had just happened your mother laces her arm with yours and walks you away, You can feel his eyes trail on your retreating form. Once you're far enough away from him you let out a shaky breath and lean against your mother who hums.

“He is certainly not subtle at all is he.” “Jeyne!”

Your skin heats and you cannot bring yourself to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony. praying the ceremony will end swiftly and you will be able to retreat to a far corner far away from him.

Your dreams are crushed when the ceremony is finally over and you are quickly stopped while trying to retreat to a different room by a guard who requests you follow him, the queen had requested you.

You cling to your mother’s arm as you are lead through the halls, Jessamyn trailing to your right and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You were more so nervous about having to speak to them for the first time in a decade. You all have changed, you're worried you will not be able get along with them all as well as you used to.

You are now standing in what you remember to be one of the numerous lounge rooms in the keep. The guard tells you to wait here before he leaves the room. Your mom takes a seat on the couch and Jessamyn sits next to her. You however cannot stomach sitting down right now, you end up pacing back and forth, biting your nails lightly.

“Oh come on sit down. Do not worry so much.” Your mother pats the seat next to her and you shake your head, “What if i say something wrong?” “Im sure you could say nothing wrong to upset him i mean, we saw the way he was looking at you. You could murder his family and i'm sure he would forgive you.” “Oh definitely.”

“I was talking about the queen.” You grumble towards them and they simply look at one another and shake their heads.

Now you were nervous to see him even more. You would make a fool of yourself. But why do you care so much about making a fool of yourself in front of him? He was simply your childhood friend you were looking forward to seeing again, that was all.

Yet when rhaenyra walks in you all stand and bow you cant help the way as your head raises you look behind her to him.

“It is so wonderful to see you again y/n.” Rhaenyra walks over to you and gives you a hug which you are more than happy to reciprocate. “It is an honor to be in your presence once more my queen.” She smiles warmly at you as she pulls back, keeping her hands on your arms.

“How have you been fairing? Oh you have truly grown into a beautiful lady.” You bow your head to her and smile, “You are too kind my queen. I have been well. Though it does get rather lonely in the eyire. I am happy to be back.”

Her face changes at your answer. She seems very pleased with your answer. Maybe a bit too pleased, her face is laced with something akin to, mischievous? Like she is plotting something though you can’t put your finger on. But she pulls back away and eager turns to the side.

“Of course you remember my son.” “How could i forget.”

He smiles brightly at you and your answer as you bow your head to him. “My prince.” “Jace please, you are dear to me, you have no need to call me my prince.” You allow him to grab your hand lightly and watch as he brings it up to his lips once more. He puts down your hand but keeps it firmly in his grip. Not too tight but not loosely enough wear you could slip out of his grasp easily.

“I am so happy to see you Jace.” The grip he has one you tightens at your words, “Your words mean more to me than you know. I have missed you y/n.” When did he become such a sweet talker? He’s clearly been reading those books that he would always groan about getting assigned to by the maesters.

You notice that your mother and rhaenyra have entered conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye the way the three of them continue to eye the two of you. could they be any more obvious?

Well you will not allow them to stop you from conversing with Jacaerys. What was the harm? “Have you been well?” “Well enough. I find myself missing dragonstone sometimes. It is certainly odd being back in the keep after so long as im sure it is for you. But i am sure to be back on dragonstone in no time.” “Ah right, you are the prince of dragonstone of course.” He hums as he steps closer to you and you can feel his breath lightly breezing on your face. “You are not yet betrothed?”

His voice lowers into a whispers and deepens into a tone thats clearly only meant for you to hear. You take a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. If someone saw the two of you they would surely think he was about to kiss you. Maybe you did as well, but you should not think that.

“I an not.” “Is there any particular reason?” You hum, finally locking eyes with him to see his eyes already dead set on yours. “Maybe i have just not found the right man for me my prince.” You watch the look in his eyes darken at your words, the look on his face indescribably but almost more attractive than ever. “I am hopeful i shall find him during my stay at the keep.”

“I am rather certain you will, my lady.” He says with a certainty in his voice, like he is so sure he is willing to bet his life on it. You are not stupid you know he must be referring to himself. Yet the idea of the crowned prince, the heir to the iron throne, the future king of the six kingdoms, was willingly laying himself out in front of you like this. Many other men would simply be showering you in false affections to get you to spill affection for him but seems more than happy to show his hand to you early on.

“Maybe i will.” He continues to stare at you for a moment longer. The tension between you could be cut with a knife. You’re sure he wishes to say more but he looks over your shoulder before he pulls back, taking a step away from you.

You look back and notice the three women behind you seem to be finishing up their own conversation and turn to the two of you with pleased looks. “I am so sorry to cut this short but me and jace have a couple meetings to attend to.” You look back to him and brings your hand to his lips once more, allowing them to selfishly linger there as he speaks. “I shall see you.”

You grin. “I shall see you my prince.” He smiles once more and follows after his mother who left after a quick goodbye. You watch him leave, he gives you a final parting look before he leaves. You trying to quell the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

The smile on your face does not drop until you look behind you and the two women are giving you amused looks. “What?”

They look at one another before they look back at you. “So when should i expect my first grandchild? Oh i bet it’ll have his hair,” “mother!” “Oh and my baby will be queen of the seven kingdoms, my heart hurts.” you groan as you watch her clutch her chest in mock agony and fall back into the couch. “You are being ridiculous.”

You do not wish to stay here and listen to them ramble about you and the prince so you swiftly begin to make your way towards the door. “I need some fresh air.” “Yes i would need some fresh air too if i was you. The tension between you two.” You let out another loud groan as you walk through the door and storm away, hearing their laughter as you walk down the hall.

You don’t know where you're headed. simply walking through the halls with no clear destination. You decide you will not think much about your interaction with him, or at least try to. You will just relax the rest of the day until you turn into bed. You have never thought much about suitors before what is so different about him? Maybe it is because you have known him for so long, you knew him at what was probably his weakest points of his life and he knew you at yours, maybe it is simply a mutual understanding of one another.

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the loud commotion below you, finally looking around and noticing many people standing by the walls and leaning down to look. You grow curious and make your way closer, hearing the way the sounds of people in hushed chatter and the sound of metal clashing grows louder.

When you look over the edge and gain sight of the men a chill runs down your spine. You can simply only stare at the way his hair flows left and right while he dodges or the way he grips the sword he has in his hands so tightly you can see veins lining the back of his hands and surely up his forearm though its covered by the black outfit he dawns. You’re sure your mouth has been open so long you are catching flies. so completely mesmerized by the sigh below you.

The man he is against suddenly falls on his back and you see the smirk dawn his face as he points the sword to the fallen knights neck. The courtyard is filled with claps though you cannot even bring yourself to move, watching and waiting.

He helps the man up who removes his helm and you can see his face now. Criston Cole who smacks his shoulder and says a couple words to him. You watch the interaction with eager eyes. Criston suddenly looks up and his gaze locks with yours as a look of shock graces his face. You suddenly get pulled back from whatever trance you had been in and meekly attempt to smile at him. He has never been anything but kind to you but you know of his past strained relationship with jacaerys and lucerys so you have always worried he does not like you much.

He looks back to him and gets closer to him, whispering in his ear as he looks at you once more before his gaze drops again back to the younger man in front of him. He suddenly turns around and his eye locks with yours. Aemond. You can barely recognize him, what had happened to the crying boy who would get teased endlessly by his brother and nephews? He looked like a warrior, with that sword in his hand and the shield in the other. You bow your head, not sure what else you are meant to do.

He walks closer to you and you place your elbows on the half wall, leaning over it to look at him as he looks up at you. “It seems the maiden has blessed me this day for she has brought down an angel to greet me.” You flush, when did these men get so romantic? “You are far too kind to me my prince.” A small smile graces his face as he continues to stare at you, you can hear the ladies around you whispering but you put on a smile and attempt to ignore it.

“I am merely stating the truth my lady, you have only grown into the essence of beauty itself. I am grateful to be graced with your presence.” “When did you get so charismatic?” “Maybe i have been practicing for the day you should return to me.”

You shake your head at him as you can’t help the grin that grows on your face. if you were being honest you were not as close as you would have liked to be with Aemond as a child, especially not as close as you were to Jacaerys. It was hard to be when all he did was push you away, though you did always try to apologize to him whenever the boys were picking on him but that's pretty much as far as it had gone. You had wanted to be his friend, even Alicent had tried to encourage him to talk to you but all he would do is run away or say something mean to you that he had not meant.

“You are a fine fighter my prince.” “Thank you my lady. Would you stay and watch?” “You wish to show off?”

You watch as he takes a couple steps back, yet he keeps his eye on you, “I believe with you cheering me on i shall win every fight.” “By the looks of it you do not need me, you would win these fights regardless.”

He says nothing more simply making his way back over to criston with a pleased look on his face. You watch as he turns his head every once in awhile to make sure you’re still there. You stay. You watch him fight with all the different white cloaks, winning every match. It reminds you of being back in the eyrie when the main source of entertainment was watching the knights of the vale train. Though he was much more skilled than those men, much more skilled than any man you had ever seen. You could wager he was the best swordsman in the keep.

As the sun begins to set a maid approaches you. “The queen has invited you to dine with the family tonight my lady. Would you like to freshen up before?” Of course you were being invited to dinner. An odd pit fills your stomach as you think about the fact this would be the first time you would be seeing all of them together the only people you have seen are jacaerys, aemond, rhaenyra, and glimpses of daemon, lucerys and joffery at the ceremony early today though you had not gotten to speak to them.

“Please.” You glance at the training grounds once more and see aemond and criston looking at you. You bow and aemond nods to you before you walk off with the maid.

When you enter your room you let out a gasp as you see another maid fiddling around with a large bouquet of flowers on the main table of your room. “Gorgeous are they not?” You approach the huge bouquet with surprise, “Who is this from?” “Prince jacaerys my lady. How romantic.” You stare at the array of red roses in front of you and allow your fingers to graze against them, bring your face close enough to even smell them. How did he have this prepared so quickly? You can even see that each rose has been dethorned.

Your heart swells at the gesture. “It truly is.” You will have to thank him.

You finally allow yourself to relax as the maids bath you. You could not believe today. You did not know how you felt. You think you are happy to be back in the keep. It is certainly odd to see these halls once more and it is even more crazy to be staying in the same room you were when you were a young girl again. In an odd way it felt like home, a lot more than the vale did. There is certainly more going on here than the vale.

You can help but let your mind linger on aemond and jacaerys. They both cross your mind in an odd way. You do not know what to think of either of them, they were both clearly trying to win your affection and this put you in a rather tricky situation. You think both men are nice, yet you do not know them anymore so you cant say who you like more. You suppose that's what the purpose of this trip is.

This clouds you mind and thoughts all the way up until you are walking into the dinning room. You are early, the only people in the room are alicent, rhaenyra and daemon who were seated at the table chatting with one another. They look at you and smile, “Ah you are here.” They stand to greet you and you wave your hands, “Please you do not need to stand up. I am merely a lady.” “Oh nonsense you are pretty much family.” You smile warmly at them rhaenyra urges you to take a seat.

You pull out a chair in the middle, allowing you to sit in direct eye sight of them who all look upon you. “You look wonderful.” You thank them and awkwardly fiddle with the fabric of your dress under their gaze. “I am hoping you day went well, i apologize again for leaving so suddenly.” You shake your head, “It had gone well my queen. do not fret. I spent it in the training yard.” “The training yard?” “Yes my lady, prince aemond had asked me to stay and watch him practice.”

You watch as a pleased look graces alicent face as she leans forward, “Did he now?” “Yes he seemed rather insistent i would be his good luck charm.” This has alicent beaning as she looks over to rhaenyra in almost what looks to be a challenge. You watch as rhaenyra stiffly smiles, “oh how wonderful.” Daemon shakes his head and picks up his goblet while chuckling. “That reminds me. You should join us in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney. Im sure my son would be more than happy about it.” You catch the way alicent eye twicthes for a moment and rhaenyra merely continues to smile at you. You look between the two women as you attempt to hide your horror. Were they trying to set you up with their sons?

“I would be honored your grace.” “It is settled then.” “Yes the royal box has such a nice view, im sure aemond will impress you with his skills.”

This could not be happening.

“He is very skilled from what i gathered. I am eager to see him on the field.”

As you begin to pray for a saving grace you get one as the doors open and you hear footsteps approach. The chair next to you gets pulled out and a body plops into it with a groan. “I am starving.”

His eyes hit you and his smirk dawns his face. “Ah lady arryn, the talk of the keep today.” “It is nice to see you prince aegon.” “You do not need to lie i know it is not.” You say nothing as alicent scolds him for his words but all he does is shrug, taking a long chug from his chalice. Helaena follows soon after and you greet her from your chair, remember her adversion to touch and she seems grateful for it as he takes her place next to aegon. Soon enough more and more people flow into the room, you stand to greet the dragon sisters and lucerys who all give you hugs and warm greetings, you feel your dread leave your body for awhile until you sit back down and the chair next to you gets pulled back and jacaerys fills the spot next to it.

“My lady, it is nice to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure my prince.”

He smiles and opens his mouth to speak until you feel a presence behind you and turn to see aemond place a hand on aegons seat, aegon looks up at him and grins, “brother.” aemond keeps a stoic look as he continues to glare at aegon. You begin to stand, “You can sit-” “No. Aegon get up.” The man in question groans, “But i like it here brother.” “get up i will not ask again.” You sit down slowly as aegon rolls his eyes and stands from his seat. Sending you a wink before he walks off, “We shall speak again my lady.”

You say nothing as he sits down, merely a nod of acknowledgement. You keep your gaze forward which just so happens to be staring direction at daemon who humorous looks between the three of you. You fear you might go mad.

The dinner starts with a silent prayer, you merely continue to keep your eyes open and look at the table. You have never been a religious person so you allow yourself to look at aemond for a quick moment who appear to be lost in prayer before turning your attention to jacaerys who is already looking at you. You weakly smile at him before turning away quickly just as everyone begins to raise their heads.

The table begins to fill with chatter as the food begins to get brought out. The three of you however stay dead silent. You are going to die. You look over to your mother to see if you can get her help but she is lost in conversation with alicent. You try not to groan as you fold your hands in your lap. Did things truly have to be so awkward?

As you somber in your despair suddenly a very family scent hits your nose and you sit up, looking over your shoulder and staring at the plate the maid drops at the empty spot in front of you amazed. It was your favorite, a dish that was near impossible to get in the reach due to the ingredients and how hard it was to even get food in to the eyrie in the first place.

“It is your favorite right?” You turn to your left in shock as he begins to speak, a light smile graces his face. “I had it requested for tonight.” You lightly open your mouth in shock, you hear a tsk from your right and a light groan. jacaerys is furious with himself how come he had not thought of that?

“It is my prince i am shocked you remember that. Thank you.” He shakes his head, “I would be a fool not to remember such things about you, my lady.”

You eager take some onto your plate and take a bit, letting out a pleased hum as you can’t help but smile. It reminds you of your youth here in the keep, many fond memories come flowing to mind. You were shocked he had even remember this about you as you two truly never spoke much. How much did he know about you that you had no clue about?

As the silence between you all is much more palpable you turn to jacaerys. “I wished to thank you jace.” He lightly coughs into the cup he was sipping from as he turns to you with wide eyes. “Whatever for y/n?” You do not see aemond glaring at jacaerys from behind you, he did not like that you two were on first name bases while you only called him my prince.

“The flowers, they are oh so gorgeous.” He beams, “It is the least i could do. I would have gotten you more but i was short on time.” “I am happy you thought of me no matter what my prince.” “I am always thinking of you.”

You ignore the light scoff from your left but you do not miss the way jacaerys eyes stray and he begins to glare behind you. You quickly turn to aemond, wishing to avoid them arguing. “I have heard you will compete in tomorrow tourney my prince.” His stoic face drops as he turns to you, he hums and nods taking a sip from his cup, “If you bless me with your favor i am guaranteed too secure the victory.”

“Has the queen already asked you about sitting in the royal box?” You nod as you glance quickly at jace. “Yes i will be joining you.” “Very good.” Aemonds face turns devious and your stomach drops.

“It is a shame you are not competing jace, what ever was the reason you gave again?” Jacaerys cluches the cup he has in his grip tightly as a maid walks over to refill it. He does not allow himself to look at aemond simply keeping his gaze onto you. “I am sad to say i have not picked up a sword in a while i am a bit rusty. Some of us have more important things to do then swing a sword all day. I am the heir after all.”

You wish to throw your head back and groan. The tension between the three of you was so noticeable but you tried to simply look at your plate and take a few small bites from it. You had basically lost your appetite. This was the last thing you wished to be happening. Suddenly a hand taps you on the shoulder and you turn around. A hand suddenly shoots out and you notice the band in the corner had begun to play a waltz.

You smile lightly and grab his hand, not sparing a glance to the two men who grow furious as they watch you walk hand and hand with lucerys who turns his head back and sticks his tongue out at them. Why had they not thought of that?

You both bow your head at one another and grab each others hand as you begin to dance the simply dance. “You are welcome.” You sigh at his smile, “Was it truly so obvious?” “to everyone yes.” “Well i shall thank you formally then my prince.” “Luce please. You are basically family. Well you are too be family soon i gather. Whether it be my sister or my aunt. Though i would much rather you be my sister.”

You shake your head, “It is too soon.” “But it is not too soon for them to be fighting over you like dogs?” You have no reply so you attempt to change the topic. “I have heard of your recent engagement to lady rhaena, congratulations.” At this a blush dawns his face up to his ears. He looked adorable. “She is very pretty.” “That she is.”

For a short while a silence falls over you but it does not last you feel the heated stares of the men at the table. “You have gotten much better at dancing.” “You do not need to say that i know i have stepped on your foot one too many times.” as if on cue he steps on your foot again causing you both to go into a fit of laughter. Lucerys looks over your shoulder as he lightly scoffs, “I am shocked one of them has not tried to cut in.” He spins you around and you are able to get a good look at the men who both cannot take their eyes off you. “Do you truly think they will try?” “No. They are cowards.”

You tilt your head at him and he continues to giggle. The song soon ends and they watch from the table as you two bow at each other once more and aemond tries to stop his eye twitching as he watches lucerys whisper into your ear and you double over laughing, lacing your arm with his as he leads you back to your seat.

“My feet are killing me after that.” They do not understand why the two of you bust out laughing at your words and lucerys walks away with a small wave. You continue the dinner with a smile on your face and neither of them say another word much to your surprise. It is not that you do not wish to talk to them if anything that's the only thing you wish for but not if they are going to be acting like fools.

The dinner soon enough wraps up and you stand. The two men quickly standing up after you.

“Allow me to escort you back to your room.” You stare at the two of them as they speak over each other and cross your arms over your chest. “I am more then capable of walking back myself. Though i appreciate the offer. I hope the two of you will be more well behaved the next time we speak. Goodnight.”

And with that you swiftly turn your back and walk off with a shake of your head. They were ridiculous this whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. You just pray that tomorrow will be better and you will be able to get your mind and your heart in check.

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leaderwonim · 3 days

Text

HALF RETURN part one

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.

warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking

“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”

You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”

“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”

She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.

Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.

Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.

“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”

“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”

“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”

Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.

For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.

“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”

“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

“Hey.”

You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.

Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.

It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.

“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”

“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.

“She was totally into you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”

“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”

“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”

“How have you been?”

Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”

You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.

“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”

“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”

“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.

“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.

From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.

After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.

“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.

“Hi Park.”

He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”

“You’re really over it?” You question.

“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”

“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”

Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”

You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.

“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.

“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”

“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.

“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”

His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”

“Understood what?”

“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”

And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

142 notes · View notes

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 1 day

Text

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of STD and STI tests, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: 20,000 dollars in student debt can lead to irrational decisions, like engaging in a questionable discussion when a friend who is knowledgeable about BDSM mentions an auction she's attending.

WC: 3.6K

A/n: the first of the new and improved version of my mister miller fic🫶🏻

Cold and heartless, Dr. Richards, your financial aid advisor, was a stern woman. You had expected that, considering the difficulty of having to inform hundreds of students about whether they could afford to continue their college careers or not. Last week, you discovered an unpaid dues notice from the school when you were looking through your financial reports. You had thought that all your dues were covered by a creative writing scholarship and financial aid.

Dr. Richards set your papers down and sighed, taking off her glasses and looking at you with an unexpected hint of pity. "Would you like me to be kind or blunt?" she asked, her voice steady but softened by the weight of bad news.

Your hand slapped to your forehead instinctively as dread pooled in your stomach. "Blunt," you muttered, bracing yourself.

"You're $20,000 in debt," she continued without missing a beat. "The total cost of your first year was $40,000. $20,000 was covered through financial aid and the scholarship, but if you wish to continue, the remaining $20,000 has to be paid by the start of next semester."

Shock and anger twisted inside you, making your vision blur. "Three months?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with panic. "How am I supposed to afford that? I can barely afford anything as it is."

Dr. Richards leaned back, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "I understand this is difficult, but the reality is, you need to find a solution quickly. Perhaps a private loan, more scholarships, or even a part-time job."

The office walls seemed to close in around you, the air thick with the weight of impossible choices. You stood up, feeling the urgency of time slipping through your fingers. "I'll figure something out," you said, your voice a brittle whisper of determination.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the gravity of your situation bore down on you. The campus buzzed with the usual life of students, oblivious to your internal turmoil. Every step you took felt heavier, each echoes a reminder of the $20,000 chain now dragging you down.

Night fell as you wandered the campus, lost in thought. The familiar paths seemed alien, shadows stretching long and menacing under the flickering streetlights. Once you made it back to your cramped dorm room, you opened the door and flopped onto your bed without even glancing at your roommate, Faith.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Faith asked, concern lacing her voice.

You lifted your head from the bed just enough to reply. "Remember the financial notice I got last week? Turns out I'm $20,000 in debt, and I didn't even know. Ugh, I should have read the papers more thoroughly." You sunk your head back into the thin, scratchy comforter on your bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you.

Faith sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with concern. "That's... a lot. What are you going to do?"

You sighed deeply, the sound muffled by the comforter. "I have no idea. Three months to come up with twenty grand? It feels impossible."

Faith was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thickening. Finally, she spoke, her voice a mix of determination and desperation. "We'll figure something out. There has to be a way."

You nodded weakly, and Faith gently moved your shoulders to get you to sit up. She sat next to you and nudged you playfully. "Maybe a sugar daddy? You're a hot 20-year-old with a banging body," Faith joked, her mischievous grin breaking through the tension.

You managed a small smile, though part of you wondered if she was actually being serious. Faith was always open about her sex life, unlike you. You were a virgin, but the thought of a sugar daddy did sound appealing in your desperate situation.

"Yeah, right," you replied with a chuckle, though the idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. Faith's laughter filled the room, a momentary reprieve from the oppressive worry.

Faith stood up abruptly before walking to her laptop and bringing it over to you. "A Twilight marathon isn't going to fix this," she cut you off, her tone serious, as she settled beside you.

"I know, I know... but," she hesitated, her expression grave, "well, I might have a solution." With a look of persuasion, she showed you her laptop screen, displaying a website named 'Twisted Temptations.'

"Your BDSM club?" you blurted out, taken aback.

"Okay, okay, listen," Faith hurried to explain, sensing your shock and disapproval. "We're doing this auction... You get 10% of whatever they bid for you."

You stood there, frozen in disbelief, waiting for Faith to continue. "How do you think I paid for college and..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "most don't even want sex. You should at least look at the application."

You shook your head, doubt clouding your thoughts. "I don't know, Faith. This is so out of my comfort zone."

Faith moved closer, her expression softening with concern and determination. "Listen, I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was safe. The club is strict about boundaries. You set the limits, and they are respected. Plus, I'll be there to guide you through everything."

You glanced at the laptop screen, the application form open and waiting. The prospect seemed overwhelming, yet there was a glimmer of hope—an unconventional solution to your daunting financial problems.

Faith sensed your hesitation and continued, "I know it's a big step, but think about the benefits. You need the money, and this way, you control what happens. You set your limits and preferences, and everything is mutually agreed upon with your partner. Trust me, you'll be safe."

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Faith smiled reassuringly. "It won't. The club has strict rules and procedures to protect everyone involved. I'll help you with everything—filling out the application, setting your boundaries, and making sure you're comfortable. You won't be alone in this."

The weight of your financial troubles pressed down on you, and Faith's unwavering support felt like a lifeline. You sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. "Alright, I'll do it, but you have to help me. I don't want something to go wrong."

Faith's eyes lit up with excitement. "It won't," she assured you confidently. "Let's get started." She quickly filled in your name, age, and other essential details, then looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Okay, now we need to talk about your preferences and limits. This is really important."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "What kind of preferences?"

Faith glanced at the screen, scrolling down to the next section. "Let's start with the basics. Are there any absolute no-go areas for you? Things you absolutely won't do?"

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Well, I'm a virgin, but I'm ready to...you know, not be. I just don't want to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Faith nodded, her expression serious but supportive. "That's totally okay. You can specify that you're new and what your limits are. Many people in the club respect that and will help you explore at your own pace."

She typed as she spoke, checking off boxes and filling in fields. "What about things like light bondage, sensory play, or role-playing? Have you ever thought about those?"

You blushed slightly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I've never tried any of it, but I guess I could be open to light stuff. Nothing too intense to start."

Faith smiled encouragingly. "Perfect. We'll start with light bondage and sensory play. You can always update your preferences later as you get more comfortable."

She continued filling out the form, asking about your comfort levels with different activities, safe words, and any medical conditions or allergies. You answered as best as you could, relying on Faith's guidance and the snippets of information she'd shared with you over the years.

"Remember," Faith added, "most of what you like and don't like is decided mutually between the dom and sub. Communication is key. You'll discuss your limits and preferences with your partner beforehand, and you can always say no if something doesn't feel right."

Faith noted your availability and reviewed the application one last time. "Alright, I think we're all set. Ready to submit?"

You took a deep breath, nerves, and excitement swirling within you. "Ready."

Faith clicked the submit button, and the screen flashed a confirmation message. She turned to you with a grin. "Welcome to Twisted Temptations. You're going to be great."

As you sat there, a mix of relief and apprehension settling over you, Faith squeezed your hand. "Remember, you're in control. This is about exploring your boundaries and discovering what you're comfortable with. And I'll be here every step of the way."

You nodded, and Faith smiled. “The auction will be held next week. You’ll need to get an STD and STI test done, and you desperately need to get something sexy.”

You gasped at Faith. “I own sexy clothes?”

Faith giggled and walked over to the closet. "Well, maybe not yet, but that's what I'm here for."

She flung open the closet doors and began rifling through your clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up with a look of mock horror. “Unless you plan on seducing someone with the allure of ‘Netflix and no chill,’ we need to do some shopping.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. But where am I supposed to find something sexy?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leave that to me. We’ll hit up the mall tomorrow, and by the time we’re done, you’ll have an outfit that’ll make jaws drop.”

You felt a mixture of excitement and dread. “Fine, but no leather. And nothing with feathers. Or sequins. Or—”

“Relax,” Faith interrupted, still laughing. “I know just the thing. You’ll be sexy, not sparkly.”

As Faith closed the closet doors with a flourish, she turned back to you, her expression turning serious. “But seriously, the tests are important. We need to make sure you’re safe and everything is in order.”

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in again. “I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Faith grinned and flopped down on the bed beside you. “Great. Now, let’s watch a terrible rom-com to celebrate your big decision. It’ll be our last bit of normalcy before you become a sex goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

Faith and you decided to Uber to the auction. The city lights blurred past the window as you fidgeted with the hem of your newly purchased dress. Faith noticed your nerves and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone both calming and excited, “let me walk you through what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the churning anxiety in your stomach.

“When we arrive at the venue, we'll check in at the front desk. They'll hand you your papers and auction number,” Faith explained. “Then, we can mingle and meet some of the other participants. It's like a real auction party, so don't be shy about striking up conversations.”

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly reassured. “And when does the bidding start?”

Faith grinned. “Bidding starts at 10 PM sharp. That's when the real excitement begins.

As the Uber came to a stop outside the venue, I looked out the window at the unremarkable building that awaited me. Faith led the way, exuding confidence as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

Stepping into the venue, anticipation swirled around me like a gentle breeze, mingling with the soft melodies of background music. The interior whispered of understated elegance, with dim lighting casting enchanting shadows across the polished floors and plush furnishings. Faith guided you towards the check-in desk, where attendants bustled about with papers and pins. You exchanged a nervous glance, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as you approached the desk.

“Welcome,” greeted the attendant with a warm smile, “may I have your names, please?”

You and Faith exchanged introductions before the attendant handed you each a set of papers and pins to attach to your dresses. With a playful grin, Faith nudged you and held up her pin, wiggling it teasingly.

“Alright, partner in crime,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “let’s get these on and make sure we’re looking sharp for the auction.”

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for your friend as you both leaned in to help each other attach the pins to your dresses.

With your pins securely fastened, you and Faith made your way toward the main ballroom. The air seemed to buzz with an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. As you approached the entrance, the grandeur of the room came into view.

The ballroom was a striking blend of opulence and decadence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the space, illuminating velvet drapes in deep, sensual hues that lined the walls. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Guests mingled in clusters, their laughter and hushed conversations weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room.

At one end of the ballroom stood a grand stage, draped in rich, crimson fabric and adorned with luxurious golden trim. The stage was set for the auction, with a sleek podium at the center and rows of plush chairs arranged in front, ready for the evening’s main event.

As you stepped further inside, the scene grew more intense. The guests were an eclectic mix, their attire ranging from sophisticated evening wear to daring, barely-there outfits that left little to the imagination. Leather, lace, and latex dominated the fashion choices, with some attendees adorned in intricate harnesses and collars, their outfits hinting at the BDSM theme of the event.

Faith squeezed your hand one last time before she was swept away by a familiar face, her confident stride never faltering. You stood there for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety as the crowd seemed to close in around you. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people—it was all too much at once.

Your heart raced as you tried to navigate through the sea of faces, each one strange and intimidating. The grandeur of the ballroom that had seemed so captivating just moments ago now felt overwhelming. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself, but the sensation of being out of your depth only intensified.

The guests were like nothing you had ever seen before. A man in an immaculate tuxedo strolled by, a jeweled mask obscuring his eyes, while a woman in a full-body latex suit and stiletto heels sauntered past, her movements deliberate and commanding. A couple nearby caught your eye: the woman wore a sheer, flowing gown, her partner trailing behind her on a leash, wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar.

In one corner, a group of people had gathered around a figure suspended in a rope harness, their intricate knots both artistic and functional. Soft moans and murmurs of appreciation floated through the air as the person twisted slowly, lost in the sensations the ropes provided. Another attendee, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, held a riding crop, playfully tapping it against their thigh as they chatted with a scantily clad submissive whose eyes never left the ground.

Guests lounged on plush sofas, some openly engaging in power play dynamics. A woman in a sleek corset held a leash attached to a submissive kneeling beside her, while another couple whispered intimately, their hands exploring each other's bodies with practiced ease. The atmosphere was charged with an erotic energy, a palpable sense of anticipation for what the night would bring.

As you continued to weave through the crowd, searching for a familiar face or a quiet corner, the overwhelming nature of the evening began to settle heavily on your shoulders. The mix of luxury and raw sexuality, the boldness of the guests, and the anticipation of what was to come all blended into a dizzying mix that left you feeling adrift.

In that moment, you longed for Faith's reassuring presence, her confident guidance. But she was somewhere amidst the throng, leaving you to navigate this new and intimidating world on your own. You felt a prickling sense of vulnerability, the realization that you were truly stepping into uncharted territory sinking in as you tried to steady your breath and find your footing in the extravagant chaos surrounding you.

So, like every college student in a social bind, you made a beeline for the bar. "Shit," you muttered, realizing you had left both your fake and real ID back in the dorm. Trying to muster some confidence, you approached the bar, hoping your outfit might be convincing enough. You sidled up next to a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit. You could catch the faint scent of pine and campfire from his cologne.

Putting on your best flirty face, you addressed the bartender. He was the complete opposite of the man beside you—average height, slightly taller than you, skinny, tattooed, and wearing an ill-fitting button-up uniform top. His head was shaved clean. "One shot of Tito's, please," you said, playing with your hair in an attempt to seem older and more sophisticated.

The bartender chuckled. "ID, please?"

You leaned forward, arms together to emphasize your cleavage. "ID, really?" you said, trying to be as seductive as possible.

The bartender looked tempted but quickly shook his head. "No ID, no alcohol," he said firmly, turning away.

You groaned in frustration, which caught the attention of the man next to you. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was older, that was clear, but he looked good. His stubble was neatly trimmed, his curly hair slicked back in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional, and his eyes were large and expressive.

"So, no ID?" he asked, his voice warm and slightly amused.

You smiled back. "No, but a girl can try."

He set down his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. "Well, how old are you then?"

"Twenty," you admitted, locking eyes with him.

Before you could continue the conversation, Faith appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar. "What were you doing talking to Joel Miller?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.

You glanced back, watching Joel as he turned back to his drink. "Just chatting. Why?"

Faith handed you a pamphlet and opened it to a specific page. "Page four," she instructed.

As you skimmed the page, she continued, "Joel is... intense. He's someone to shy away from until you're more experienced. Trust me on this."

Your eyes widened as you read the details. "Intense" was an understatement. "So, who's the safe bet?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Faith's face softened. "His brother, Tommy. He's more laid-back and a better choice for someone starting. You'll find him much easier to talk to."

You sighed, glancing back toward the bar. "Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?"

Faith smiled. "Yeah, you did. Now, let's find Tommy and get you introduced. He's around here somewhere."

Joel suddenly appeared as you and Faith navigated through the crowd, stopping you both dead in your tracks. "Tito's," he said, handing you a glass with a wry smile. He glanced at the number pinned to your dress before walking away, leaving you stunned.

"What was that about?" Faith immediately questioned, her eyes wide with surprise.

Before you could respond, a voice boomed from the auction podium. "May all the products please make their way backstage."

Faith turned to you, her expression shifting from curiosity to urgency. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get backstage."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, clutching the glass of Tito's Joel had given you. You downed it in one gulp, hoping it would calm your nerves, then handed the empty glass back to Faith. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. You're in control."

With a deep breath, you joined the other "products" making their way to the designated area. The backstage was a flurry of activity, with organizers checking names and numbers, and participants adjusting their outfits one last time. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of perfume mingled with the scent of leather.

An organizer approached you, checking your number against his list. "You're number 3, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible over the din of conversation and last-minute preparations.

"Great. Just wait here until you're called," he instructed, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall.

You sat down, your mind racing. Faith's words echoed in your head: "You're in control. You decide your limits." The reality of what you were about to do began to sink in, but you steeled yourself, determined to see it through.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about Joel. His unexpected gesture with the Tito's, the way he had looked at you—something about him intrigued and unnerved you. But Faith's warning was clear: he was intense, someone to be cautious around. Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"Number 3, you're up next," the organizer said.

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

132 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 2 days

Text

Skepticism

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!(NFL)football player!reader

Summary: Tim is skeptical about the first female NFL player. When he shares his opinion with you, he doesn't realize that you are the woman he's talking about.

Warnings: fluff, Tim gets embarrassed and apologizes a bunch, flirting

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

A/N: Bodyguard Tim👀 If this reads like Eric Winter talking about sports in He Said, Ella Dijo just remember that he's Tim Bradford. They're pretty much the same.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The history of the NFL has changed forever! The first female player has been drafted into the NFL, in the Los Angeles Rams’ 13th pick.

Since the moment your name was called at the NFL draft, your life has been turned upside down. Being the first female player in the league has resulted in unending news coverage, mixed praise and backlash, and unescapable attention. People know your name now, and as you prepare to change your life forever by putting on a Rams jersey, you can only hope that the skeptics are wrong about you and what you’ll do on the field.

“Dinner tomorrow!” Lucy yells at Tim. “Be there!”

“I will,” he replies. “Unfortunately.”

“Be nice,” Angela chides.

“You can always back out and stay home to watch the game,” Nolan points out.

“If they’ll start showing the games again,” a nearby officer interjects. “Everything on ESPN has been about the chick that got drafted. Even during the games, she’s all the commentators can talk about.”

“There’s a girl in the NFL?” Lucy asks. “Finally!”

“Wait, who?” Tim inquires. “I stopped watching the draft before it was over, but how’d I miss that?”

“You must’ve been very busy,” the officer replies. “She’s everywhere, man. Football got ruined. They can’t leave anything sacred.”

Tim doesn’t add to the misogynistic view of his colleague but knows that he has some research to do. Football history has certainly changed, but Tim won’t decide on how he feels about a woman playing professionally until he learns more for himself.

“The Rams, man,” the officer laments.

The moment Tim arrives home after his shift, he turns on ESPN. SportsCenter is on, and he’s unsurprised to see a woman’s name projected behind the men at the desk.

“No, John, what we’re failing to consider is her history,” Rocky Boiman points out. “Her college playing record is better than the twelve male drafts ahead of her.”

“The point remains that a historically male-dominant sport is supposed to be male-dominant,” John Anderson argues.

“If we take the gender out, the size difference, everything except how well these people play, she blends right in,” Tedy Bruschi states. “Regardless of whether or not she should play, she can play, and she does it very well.”

“I’ve been watching her in action since her senior year of high school,” Rocky adds. “If anybody has what it takes to be here, we’re looking at her.”

“Until she gets hit,” John comments. “There may not be regulations against female players, but statistically, she is more likely to be injured.”

“Then she would’ve been injured in college,” Tedy interrupts. “At the end of the day, this comes down to one of two things. Either you don’t think women should be in the NFL, for whatever reason, or you’re ignoring the facts and judging her prematurely. I will end with this, if you think this woman should quit before she starts, you’re going to be proved wrong.”

The SportsCenter logo appears on the screen before Sarah Barshop of the Rams and Matt Bowen, an analyst, begin reviewing your stats and playing history. You played in college, but your stature and your above average statistics alone don’t convince Tim. Not because you’re a woman, but because he’s seen better odds. He’ll never say that you don’t deserve a spot on the team, but he won’t believe that you can make a difference to the team until he sees it. If you can prove it at all.

“They’re talking about you again,” your friend says.

You look up from your playbook diagram and smile. The men on SportsCenter have been talking about you every chance they get. It’s not just them, though, everyone with a pulse and an ounce of interest in football has an opinion of you.

“Still arguing about if I’ll get my collarbone snapped in the first game?” you guess. “Or have they moved on to female hormones?”

“Most of them are defending you. Your stats are all they seem to care about,” your friend explains. “Maybe you will have a fan base bigger than me and my cats.”

“But you’re all I need.”

“That and a Rams paycheck.”

You laugh and return your attention to the book before you. You’re entering a new world with a lot to prove, so you��re going to be ready for anything.

“Hey, we should go to dinner tomorrow night. We haven’t had time to celebrate with all of the interviews and everything.”

“That sounds great. Just don’t pick a sports bar.”

Tim looks away from the football game to check his watch. He’s got half an hour until Angela, Wesley, Lucy, Nolan, Nyla, James, Wade, and Luna are supposed to be here for dinner. Although Tim doesn’t remember whose decision it was to meet for an “end of the hardest week this year” dinner, he agreed to come. When he arrived nearly an hour early because he had nothing better to do, he found a seat at the bar and got invested in a game.

The restaurant isn’t busy, but the bar is nearly at capacity. It seems that everyone who wasn’t arrested this past week is now here, watching football and listening to updates on you. Every chance the announcers and reporters get, they bring you up. Tim refuses to change his opinion until he sees you in action. Your highlight reel has become an hourly regular on ESPN, but you’ll have to get through training and into next season before any of it will truly matter.

“What do you think about it?” the bartender asks as he wipes the spot beside Tim.

“I think we won’t know until we see her play,” Tim answers. “If we see her play.”

“My boss is convinced she’ll lead them to the Super Bowl, but I don’t think it’ll be that straightforward.”

“It never is,” Tim agrees.

“I also think it’s a little strange they don’t show her face. She was at the draft, but everything since then has been her in her uniform or at least her helmet.”

Someone yells for the bartender, and he nods at Tim before he walks away. It is strange, but Tim assumes that they’re trying to maintain the public image of you as a football player, and not just a woman.

As you enter the restaurant, you receive a text from your friend. Running late, so don’t have fun until I get there. You shake your head at the short message and ask the hostess for a seat at the bar while you wait. She points you toward the entrance, and you focus on finding a seat and avoiding any unnecessary spills as you navigate the crowded area.

“Excuse me?” you ask a man seated at the bar. “Can I sit here for just a few minutes?”

He turns toward you and nods, and your responding smile isn’t only gratitude. The man is incredibly attractive, you realize. As you sit on the stool beside him, you notice his attention is on the television screens over the bar. Several of them are broadcasting college football games, yet you see your name appear in the closed captions.

“Which game looks the best?” you ask him.

“Penn State and Missouri game isn’t bad,” he answers.

“Missouri’s better, I assume.”

“Aren’t they always?” he asks lightly.

Penn State’s coach calls a time out and you ask the bartender for a glass of water as the screen changes to the commentators. One of them mentions a play you made in college, and you roll your eyes. You don’t mind the attention, but they’re taking what should be about the players playing now and making it about you. The man beside you scoffs, and your smile grows.

“It never ends,” he mumbles under his breath, and he spins his bottle in one hand.

“Tired of hearing about her?” you ask.

“I mean, I don’t want to sound like every other man in this city, but, yeah, a little.”

“I get that. Skepticism isn’t a bad thing; you can have an opinion.”

“I’m just not sure I can have an opinion until she starts playing. Yeah, her college history was good, but she’s not in college anymore.”

“Right,” you agree.

“There’s a reason there hasn’t been a woman in a sport that intense. Injuries would be detrimental to her and the team,” he points out. “Not to mention the fact that we’ve only seen the good, every time someone tries to mention something she can’t do well, they get cut off with don’t judge her because she’s a woman.”

“Not that I don’t agree with the injury thing, but, I mean, women have been playing rugby for years and it’s just as intense.”

“Yeah, but that’s with other women. Seems like there’s just too much at stake for one girl to make history in the NFL. She hasn’t even proved anything yet other than the fact that women can be drafted.”

“And you don’t think she can prove more?” you ask. “Skeptical that she makes it through the next part?”

He lifts his glass and shrugs, which you take as a firm yes.

“I played football in high school,” he adds. “And I feel like I can see talent when it’s there. She has talent, I’m not arguing that, but I don’t see NFL-worthy talent yet.”

Someone says your name, and you turn. It’s a college-aged girl, and she smiles shyly as she asks for a picture. You immediately agree and slide out of your seat to hug her and take the picture.

As you pose with her, you notice that the man beside you is staring at his bottle with his lips pressed together. Maybe you should have introduced yourself the moment your name came up, but you wanted to hear the truth. And the fact that he didn’t just say no, she can’t do it gave you a boost of hope that you can. Skepticism is better than complete doubt.

“Sorry,” you tell him as you return to the stool beside him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replies quickly. “I probably should have recognized you, but what I said- I mean, you’ve got talent, and I shouldn’t have said that you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt with a laugh. “I needed someone to be honest to my face for once.”

“You’re getting plenty of direct negative opinions,” he points out. “And I’m sorry.”

“Now you’re apologizing for every other football fan. Seriously, it’s no problem, no hard feelings.”

“But I-“

“You’re a cop, right?” you interrupt, gesturing to the badge on his hip. He nods, and you answer, “Truth and justice is your thing. You made some good points, too. I’ll use ‘em in my training to prove all the other skeptics wrong.”

“Which I believe you can! Seriously, though, can I buy you a drink or something? Anything to make it up to you?”

“Make what up?” you question, smiling as you lay your hand over his forearm. “I forgive you if that’s what you need to hear, but you didn’t do anything worth apologizing for.”

You move your hand to offer a handshake and properly introduce yourself. He inhales deeply before he shakes your hand.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he says.

“And you’re a cop, I play football,” you finish. “Now that we know each other, can I ask what you’re doing here alone?”

“Guy like me in a place like this?” he jokes. “I’m waiting to meet some friends from work.”

You nod and say, “I’m meeting a friend, too. A little celebration of sorts.”

“Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure,” you agree.

“What made you get into football? Why it over any other sport?”

“Bear Bryant,” you answer seriously.

“Really?” Tim questions with his eyes narrowed.

“You’ll have to watch my ESPN special to find out. That or we could do this again another time, without the accidental meeting.”

“People are going to think you’re in this sport just to meet men,” Tim replies.

“Who says I’m not?” you tease. “But, seriously, you’re great, and I bet you could tell me how to win a Super Bowl.”

“You’re the football pro,” he points out. “I’m just a cop.”

You nod and look away, disappointed by his implied rejection. Suddenly, though, you remember what your agent told you.

“Well, if you don’t want to go on a date… I do need a bodyguard on my security team.”

Tim’s eyebrows raise as he turns in his seat to face you. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

You look away when your friend calls your name, and you wave at her before you stand. Stalling at Tim’s side, you add, “Think about it. I’d love to flirt with a bodyguard.”

“I will,” Tim promises softly.

“Come find me if you decide tonight.”

You smile at Tim and grip his arm kindly in place of a farewell. Tim Bradford believes in you and is considering your offered position of bodyguard, so you know you can get a Super Bowl ring this year. No matter how skeptical everyone else is.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests

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calaisreno · 2 days

Text

Three Women Perplex the British Government

1362 words / Prompt: Journey / A sequel to Sixth Sense. (Just in case you were wondering what Molly decided to do!)

---

He doesn’t recognise the woman standing before him. His mother trained him well, though, so he rises and gestures at the chair.

“Please.” He glances at Anthea, who is giving him an inscrutable look from the doorway. The one that says he’s offended her in some way that she will neither admit nor explain.

Anthea closes the door. Mycroft regards the woman, who is still standing.

“Please,” he repeats, giving her a generic smile.

His visitor is regarding him as well. Studying him. No smile. “I’d rather not.”

She’s a tiny woman, and he’s a tall man. If she would only sit down, he could sit as well, and it would not feel so much like he’s bullying her. That’s not his style, at least not with women. Small women, dressed in hand knit jumpers.

He has no idea what she wants, but is afraid that some persuasion might be necessary. Not the bullying he reserves for his brother, or even the subtle manipulation he aims at John Watson, a difficult man to intimidate.

“Miss…?” He feels like he ought to know her.

“Molly Hooper,” she says. “We haven’t met. I’m—”

“Yes, of course. Doctor Hooper. How can I help you?” He looks down at her, desperately wishing she’d take the chair. “I should thank you,” he remembers to say. “Your help was greatly appreciated. I hope my brother expressed that to you.”

“I’m here about John Watson.”

“Ah.” He narrows his eyes, anticipating the outburst of sentiment she will unleash. “I’m maintaining surveillance on him. You need not concern yourself about any retribution against him. He is safe.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, folding her arms across her chest and glaring. She’s about as intimidating as a kindergarten teacher, but she’s making him uneasy.

He should have anticipated this. Sherlock assured him that she would play her part well, and Mycroft himself managed the business about the body. But even a goldfish might have a conscience, especially if other goldfish are asking questions.

“Are you receiving any scrutiny over your part in the plan? That can be handled.”

“No, it’s fine. What I mean is, John isn’t coping well with Sherlock’s death.”

“Ah. My brother asked you to assist him in keeping Doctor Watson in the dark, and you’re feeling guilty that you know things which he does not. I assure you that we considered all possible scenarios, and none of them involved taking Doctor Watson into our confidence.”

“Why not?”

“Doctor Watson is a soldier. He is used to death and equipped to handle grief.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says, glaring in earnest now. “It’s been months. Have you seen him?”

“My people are keeping a weather eye on him.”

“But you haven’t called on him?”

“He would not appreciate hearing from me, Doctor Hooper. I’m afraid my concern will not help him.”

She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “You made a mistake. You and Sherlock.”

“There were not many options before us.”

“Was it you or Sherlock who decided not to tell him?”

“My brother has a great deal of sentiment for Doctor Watson. I’m afraid I had to dissuade him.”

Her voice raises. “Because he loves John?”

“Doctor Watson is not…” He considers how he should word it, decides that being forthright will end this conversation sooner. “My brother’s feelings are not returned. Cannot be returned. Sherlock is gay, and Doctor Watson is not.”

“How do you know?”

“He has stated this publicly several times. Sherlock knows as well. In order to undertake the task he set for himself, it was necessary to leave him behind. I have no doubt that the doctor will meet a lovely woman and be married before long.”

“I don’t care what label you put on him. He loved Sherlock, and it’s killing him that he’s dead. He has PTSD. When they met, he was suicidal. If anything happens to him—”

“Miss Hooper. If you are considering breaking your promise, I must warn you. This matter involves branches of our government whose existence is unknown to most people. I would hate to—”

“Don’t threaten me, Mr Holmes,” she says. “At this point, what is the harm in telling him? If there are still snipers trailing after him, you haven’t done a very good job, have you? And if there aren’t any snipers, there’s no reason not to tell him.”

He has erred. This woman is no goldfish.

And Anthea keeps asking him about Watson, suggesting that it’s time he knew.

And then there’s this other woman. Mary Morstan, she calls herself. A complication. She vexes him.

“Very well,” he says. “I will handle it.”

---

“Well, I’m back,” John says.

The headstone is silent, as it should be. John Watson does not look like a man who expects an answer from a block of marble. He squares his shoulders and stands at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.

“I’m back again,” he repeats. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

He looks uneasy, Mycroft thinks. A confession, then.

“When you died, I thought I’d never… find myself again. I wasn’t good, not for a long time. Maybe that would surprise you.” He smiles grimly. “Well, you’re beyond surprise now, so I may as well say what I didn’t say the first time I came here. No, I’m not going to ask again. I know there’s not going to be any miracle. You’re not… coming back.”

He lowers his face into his hand. For a moment his shoulders shake. Mycroft waits.

Drawing a deep breath, he raises his head. “So, this is it. What I should have told you… when it might have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t have, but I wish I’d said, just in case… well. I love you. I always did.” Choking back a sob, he continues. “You didn’t do that, though. No sentiment. Caring’s not an advantage. Yeah. But I did. Love you.”

The sentiment is so thick, it’s almost nauseating. Mycroft desperately wants a cigarette. Reminding himself of what he’s here to do, he waits.

“Once, I asked you for a miracle. But there aren’t any miracles, at least not for us. And now…” John wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. “Now it’s time. I know I’ll never be over you, never forget what it was like… but I’m alive, and I think I have to do something to stay that way. Get on with it, try to have a life without you.” He clears his throat and sniffs. “I met somebody. She isn’t you, but I think you would have liked her, that she would’ve been the one who finally passed muster. I know she would’ve liked you. So, I’m giving it a go, asking her. To marry me, I mean.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh, or maybe a sob. “I have to try,” he says. “I wish… well, it’s no use. I love you, but you’re not here. And I just can’t be alone forever. So.” He straightens his back, nods at the black marble. “This is goodbye, Sherlock.”

As he turns, Mycroft steps out. John’s eyes widen, then narrow with suspicion.

“Doctor Watson,” he says. “There are several things you need to know.”

—-

When he opens the door of his office, Anthea is waiting for him.

“Well?”

“You were right.” He sighs and meets her eyes. “Good call.”

The look on her face softens into a barely-detectable smile. “I’ve taken care of the Morstan woman. Extradition is underway.”

“She was…?”

“Yes. Different name, but she’d done several jobs for him. The Americans will be glad to have her back. She won’t be visiting us any time soon.”

He nods, suddenly weary, and sinks into his chair. Too much sentiment, too much emotion. It’s exhausting. “Now we only need to bring my brother home.”

“We’ve received word this morning that he’s on his way to to Serbia.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Intercept him. We’ll let Baynes and his team handle that. Sherlock needs to come home.”

Her smile broadens. “As you wish.”

The door closes behind her.

“Good journey, brother,” he whispers. “No more surprises.”

---

Read / comment on AO3

#mayprompts2024 #mycroft holmes #molly hooper #anthea #mary morstan

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petew21-blog · 1 day

Text

Detention

My English teacher just absolutely embarassed me in fornt of the whole class. Not the whole class, cause Joe and Chris are not here, but still. But I am glad they didn't see it. They would have made my life a living hell and called me names, but so would I.

The three of us have been friends since our mothers met on a playground one day. We have been inseperable. Sometimes literally. We even used super glue to never be away from each other. Yeah we went to the ER that night. But we all still laughed like crazy everytime we did pranks like this. We loved to do pranks on other people, but over the time we got bored, they either knew us and our pranks already or they didn't react enough to let us have the final laugh worth having.

That's why we started doing pranks on each other. It was quite brutal sometimes, like the last two prank I did on both of them, but you know, that's the game. We always want to be better than the other.

Back to present

My teacher, Mr. Lionel, called me in front of the whole class and forced me to sing. He said that I can sing Baby by Justin Bieber, cause he remembers that I once wrote that in one of my essays to be my favourite song. WHAT? I would never write that. That's one of my worst nightmares. Of course the whole class laughed.

Then the principal called out through the school radio, that my mom called and brought me new underwear, cause she knows how much I have trouble holding it in.

"That's BULLSHIT!" I yelled out during the class. The stranges thing was that Mr. Lionel didn't scold me right away as he always would, but kept on laughing. He then looked at the class and understood should have acted sooner.

"All right, Mr. Donovan. Principal's office, right now." he handed me the note for the principal and I left.

I was curious as always and took a peek. It said "For being a naughty boy. Deserves spanking. P.S. everything going according to plan so far"

What kind of a language is this. Why would Mr. Lionel write this? Is this how they always talk about us? Cause this is disturbing. I entered the office. The principal smiled at me from ear to ear. He let me sit down and immediately stood up above me

"So what was it this time, Mr. Donovan?"

"I... reacted on what you said about me in the radio. I said something I shouldn't have."

"Well. That is unfortunate. I might have bad news in that matter I am afraid that might make the situation worse. I have to inform you that we have been searching lockers of students for unwanted drugs and yours contained 5 great bags of weed. Therefore I am going to contact your parents and make you leave our school. Detention is definitely not in order. You have to understand that we don't want anyone to carry drugs to our school."

"But principal, that's not mine. I would have never done that. I have never even used it nor would I ever sell it. It must have been only some kind of prank by my friends."

"Are you trying to say we should expell them?"

"No... of course not. It's just not mine and I don't want to be expelled. Please. I'll do anything."

"Anything you say? he said and rearranged his balls in his pants

"NO FUCKING WAY IS THIS HAPPENING. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE" I started panicking

"Do not worry Mr. Donovan. There is no need to panic. Mr. Lionel is coming now and we will think how to make a proper punishment for you."

We sat in silence, I would bet anything that he was still rubbing himself under the desk. I am not gonna get raped by some old perv today. Even if I would have to stab him in the eye with his pen

Suddenly the door opened. Mr. Lionel came in. The two of them still sat in silence. Then the principal said:"Ok, Mr. Lionel. Show our student here, what he's missing"

tumblr

Mr. Lionel took of his shirt and started flexing at us. I had to admit that he was very good looking, but the thought that the principal was still observing me was horrible. I needed to get out.

"So, Billy. Wanna touch me? I'll let you pass"

"Sir, this is... I... NO! I won't do any of this. Leave me the fuck alone both of you, you two creeps!" I got to the door, but found out that Mr. Lionel locked it when he entered.

They looked at themsleves. And then started laughing histerically

Prinicpal:"It's just a prank, bro!"

Me:"What?!"

Mr. Lionel:"Dude, you were so scared. I bet you really do need the underwear now. Must be all wet haha"

Principal:"You still don't get it right, bro?"

Me:"Get what?"

Mr. Lionel:"Dude, it's us. Joe and Chris. And we PRANKED youuu!"

I couldn't believe it. But it was the only thing that made sense

Me:"Wait, how did you? Am I dreaming? Is it really happening?"

Chris (principal):"Yeah it's real bro. We went to the town to find something for our new prank to get revenge on you and we found this talisman in an old shop. And we swapped bodies. We found out that we can swap as many times we want. And then we came up with a plan to prank you. We even planned to embarass you even more, but it would be too cruel."

Me:"Guys, what the fuck? You made me believe that my principal was about to... That was it. We're done with the pranks. No more pranking each other ok? No more revenge pranking. Anything"

Joe (Mr. Lionel):"Ok, dude. Sorry. But you gotta admit it was a great prank, haha"

Me:"Yeah, I believed it."

Chris (Prinicipal):"Guys, are you done brushing your vaginas? I need to get out of this old body like right now. It's horrible to feel this old, dry, weak."

Me:"So, we can swap with anybody, right?"

Chris:"Yeah, got anyone in mind?"

Me:"My brother got back home from college few days ago and his two friends are crashing at ours. They're kinda hot."

Chris:"Great, but you'll have to lure them out"

We stood in front of the mirror in our new college bodies. Admiring each other, flexing, enjoy the muscles, the facil hair of each other

Me:"By the way, where are your original bodies?"

Joe:"Oh, we stashed them in the school. They are tied up so there should be no problem there"

Me:"You know you're gonna have to let them go eventually?"

Chris:"But not right now. Guys, let's see whose dick is bigger!"

Story in inbox:

Hi i loooooove your story so much🥰

Could u write a story about two guys swapping body with their principal and teacher to teach their friend a lesson 🍆🍆🍆

#body swap #male body swap #body switch

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magics-neptunes-things · 8 hours

Text

Forever

Hi guys!

You were waiting for this one for a long time but it's finally here! This is Luna's elopement fic.

As always, this is a fiction, so it's purely coming from my mind. Please enjoy this one and tell me what you thought about it!

TW : None, I think. Maybe a little of chaos.

Lucy is tired, like bloody tired. Her and her team just won the cup of the Champions League yesterday and she’s still hungover from the party last night. She regretted bitterly her choice of drink this morning when the alarm went on, asking her to get up to get on the bus and then the plane. They had to be in Barcelona in the afternoon to present the cup at all the Cùlers and for some random talking with people in suit.

She’s not as hungover as Cata though, the woman practically snoring during the ceremony, much to her friends’ amusement.

To distract herself during the speeches that she finds rather annoying, Lucy is looking at her girlfriend. Standing right in front of her, Ona seems to be listening for the people who don’t know her, but Lucy knows better. Ona’s eyes are a little off, but Lucy can’t say if it’s because she’s bored or because she’s in pain.

The cuts she had because of her fall on their opponent’s boot is sharp, she needed three stitches on her cheek. The other one is way to close to her eyes to do anything. Lucy feels the bile running up her throat every time she remembers that her girlfriend could have lost an eye that night.

The English woman frowns when she sees Ona rubbing her injured eye, the scarring itching terribly. But the team’s doctors clearly specified that Ona should touch her eye as little as possible for a quick and optimal recovery.

“Ona” Lucy gently scolds her.

The younger pouts and crosses her arms on her breast, making Lucy smiles softly. She can’t wait to go home, find their dogs and sleep for the next three days before she has to go to national camp in England.

Thanks God they stop soon to talk, and Lucy is relieved to be able to go home. She even grabs Ona’s bags and push her in the direction of her car when they are released. Ona laughs slightly but let her do, looking for her keys in her pocket while Lucy puts their bag in the car.

“What do you think you're doing, Batlle?” Lucy tsk her when Ona sits behind the wheel.

“Going home?” Ona frowns.

“Get out of here. I’m the one driving, you almost lost an eye.”

“Lucia I can drive.”

Ona is sulking and Lucy rolls her eyes. The Catalan girl is the nicest and sweetest person in the world, but Lucy swears that she never met someone as suborn as her girlfriend. Which she likes very much, even if she sometimes seems to forget that she needs to take care of her.

“Sure Cyclops. Let’s sit on the passenger’s seat yeah?”

Ona frowns harder and try to make her girlfriend changes her mind, but she realizes soon that she doesn’t stand a chance. Lucy usually gets Ona what she wants, but not if she knows that it isn’t good for Ona.

The drive home is long, the journey who is usually thirty minutes is far from being finish and yet they only made several kilometers in one hour and an half.

“You can sleep if you want, Bonita” Lucy says softly at her girlfriend.

Ona was lost in the contemplation of the streets, but she turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a soft smile.

“I know. I prefer enjoying my time with you though. I three days we will be separated again.”

Lucy smiles softly, very carefully stroking Ona’s face. The wound looks better than yesterday but it still seems hurtful. But Ona isn’t the kind of girl to complain about anything.

“You’ll be careful with that beautiful face of yours, yeah?”

Ona hums only. She doesn’t want to have a big, awful and permanent scar on her face, but they don’t really let them be gentle during Spanish camp.

“I asked Alexia to keep an eye on you anyway.”

Ona whines, much to Lucy’s amusement. She knows what she was doing when she asked that to Alexia, their captain will be around Ona during all the camp, probably snapping her hand away every time Ona will want to scratch her face.

“How can you do that to me?” Ona groans.

“I did it because I love you” Lucy smiles, rolling her eyes.

“You definitively don’t love me as much as you say. If it was right, you would never betray me this way.”

“You are so dramatic” Lucy laughs softly.

“All that I’ll retain from this conversation is that I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true” Lucy frowns.

“It is. I’m the one who love you the most but that’s ok.”

With a satisfy smile, Ona shrugs before taping Lucy’s hand on her thigh. This discussion is going again and again between them, a childish and sweet fight that none of them want to give up.

“Ok” Lucy says after several seconds of silence. “If you love me so much, marry me.”

There is another moment of silence.

“Qué?”

Ona is looking at her girlfriend with wide eyes, seriously asking herself if Lucy lost her mind. But Lucy is looking at her seriously.

“Are you still drunk?” Ona asks, arching an eyebrow.

“No. I am very serious, Ona. I love you. I know you are the love of my life. You are the one I want to finish my life with, I’ve never be so sure about anything in my whole life. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll change that as soon as possible. I want to marry you.”

This is unreal for Ona. Of course, she already thought about marrying Lucy one day, because she’s sure that Lucy is the love of her life too. Lucy flipped her life upside down, in the best way possible. The situation is unreal, but the answer she gives seems to be as much.

“Ok”

“Yes? Will you marry me?”

“Yes” Ona smiles softly.

Even if this isn’t the most convenient marriage proposal, there still is some tears in Lucy’s eyes. And the smile she gives to Ona makes Ona’s heart fluttered. But then, Lucy is suddenly turning on the road, taking the opposite street of their apartment.

“Lucy what are you doing?”

“We are going to the airport, taking the next plane for Las Vegas. I want to marry you right now.”

“What? But Lucy the dogs? Our parents are going to kill us!”

“Coco and Narla can stay a little longer to your parents. And we will make a ceremony with everyone in several days. I just don’t want to pass another day without you being called my wife.”

The tender smile Ona gives her talk for her. She wrote to her parents to ask them to keep the dogs a little bit longer, explaining that Lucy and her are taking surprised holidays. She doesn’t say why and where though.

While Lucy is looking for a place on the parking, Ona is looking at the first plane leaving for Las Vegas. She managed to find one leaving in five hours, choosing to be in business class, after all they are getting married, right? They let their suitcases from the game in the car, choosing to buy new clothes in the airport. And because they are in business class, they have the lounge and the possibility to take a shower before landing.

Their seats are next to each other on the plane, but when they are on the sky, Ona chooses to escalate the wall between them to sit next to Lucy. Well, on Lucy. In the darkness of the plane and night, they cannot be seen from anyone, not that their embrace has anything looking like Pegi 18 anyway. Lucy just had passed her hand under Ona’s shirt to stroke her back and they are under a cover.

“Lucy?” whispers Ona.

It’s dark and quiet, people around them are sleeping or watching a movie from the television in front of them.

“What is it, Bonita?” Lucy whispers in answer.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We still can enjoy our time in Las Vegas, we are not forced to get married if you want to change your mind.”

“Are you scared?” Lucy smiles.

“No” Ona answers, putting her head again on Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m only scared that you will regret it the next morning.”

“Never.”

To add power to her answer, Lucy squeezes her harder against her, making Ona smile. She then kisses her hair, even if the shampoo she used isn’t the same one she’s using daily. Her natural scent is still here though, Lucy loves to think that Ona smell like sun, sand, and holidays.

Lucy smiles when she sees Ona yawning, the last days were chaotic. They were great, but very tiring and they haven’t many times to rest. They sleep a lot during the long trip, catching their lake of sleep, before landing to Philadelphia to take another plane.

“People are wondering where we are going” Ona smiles while looking at her messages during their stopover to Philadelphia.

“Tell them Lesbos Island” Lucy answer, looking at Ona’s phone above her shoulder.

Ona rolls her eyes and bite in the croissant she received during the journey. It’s not as good as the one she had in France, but still ok for an empty stomach.

“People are going to be wild when they’ll know” Lucy adds soon after. “How do you think we can say it to them?”

“If we want to keep the clichés, we can send them a picture of us next to a fake Elvis.”

********

They arrive at Las Vegas after several more hours, choosing one of the most expensive suites in the hotel Ona likes the most – The Venetian. Even if the younger one tried to protest, Lucy makes her shut with only one gaze.

“This is wild” Ona mumbles, looking at the view they have from it.

They are on the 36th floor and can see almost everything around. She lost herself in the contemplation of the streets and the lights, while Lucy is busy turning of the air conditioning who is always making her sick, after what she says.

She then takes several seconds to look at Ona, who turned her back at her. She’s smiling while looking at the smaller one. Even if it’s look like a whim, she knows what she’s doing. She was thinking about proposing to Ona for several weeks now, she wanted to do things right with a sweet proposal and everything. She still can make the surprise to Ona when she got the ring.

She is so in love with Ona.

She is so in love and is going to marry her.

It’s sometimes scary for Lucy to admit to herself how much her happiness depends of that wonderful and beautiful girl in front of her. She doesn’t understand how someone like Ona can be interested in her.

Sure, Lucy knows that a lot of people fancy her, she’s not stupid. But she’s older than Ona and she won’t be able to play football for as long as Ona would. But when she talked about it to Ona, the younger girl just smirk and answer that she would like this has a lot of time to choose her clothes for her wagging era.

Feeling a rush of love for the girl in front of her, Lucy breaks the distance between them in three big strides, before embracing Ona from behind.

“What if you’re the one regretting this tomorrow?” Lucy asks quietly, for once letting out some form of vulnerability.

“I won’t” Ona answers.

Her tone is so sure that there is no reason for Lucy to doubt about it. Ona turns around in Lucy’s arms, passing hers around Lucy’s neck.

“T'estimaré per tota la vida” she whispers, before kissing Lucy softly. (I’ll love you for all my life)

Lucy’s progresses in Catalan are prodigious, thanks to her personal teacher, which allows her to easily understand what Ona has just whispered against her lips. She doesn’t have time to answer though, carried away by the extent of Ona’s kiss.

“Is it a way not to leave this room and not to get married, miss Batlle?”

“I can’t believe we’ve done it” Ona mumbles, looking at the pictures on her phone.

They are on their way back to Barcelona, after a stop at Dallas this time. They haven’t said anything to anyone about their marriage, like Lucy said, they will make a ceremony for their families and Lucy even planned a way to offer a magic proposal to Ona with the ring she will find in Barcelona.

She looked for jewelry in Barcelona when Ona fell asleep in her arms after having celebrated their wedding.

“Still no regret?” Lucy whispers, looking at Ona’s phone above the armrest between them.

“Never.”

A sweet smile is on Ona’s face when she looks at her girlfr… wife. Even if they have to make the contract acknowledged in Spain. They are travelling during the day this time and people are obviously more up than during the first fly. Lucy sulks when she realizes that Ona won’t be able to join her on her seat like before, but then Ona grabs her hand and never let it go since. She can live with that.

“I always thought that the big Elvis' was a myth to be honest” Lucy comments when she sees the photo where they are posing next to him. “It was like a movie.”

“Yeah. I liked that movie though; the first actress is hot” Ona smirks.

“The Spaniard with the scar? Yes. Hot and badass.”

********

When Lucy’s back from the England Camp, Ona had the time to make their marriage contract recognized. She went back home from the camp after deciding that it was better for her face that way. She was sad not to be able to play with Leila again, but it was safer that way. She went to training with Patri and Mapi and passed time with Narla and Coco.

She went to take Lucy from the airport and Lucy already started to look for the right ring. She looked for several days before making the choice to have it custom-made. Lucy wants it to be perfect.

They managed to keep the secret for now, the only difference is that Lucy calls Ona “Wifey” at home now and that they can’t keep their hands away of each other. They are not making out in public, but they are impossible to separate. And when they are on each side of one room, they keep look and smile at each other.

“Can you please stay focus and stop drooling on Ona for a second, Bronze?” Mariona asks, hitting Lucy behind her head.

“I’m not drooling” Lucy frowns, showing Mariona away.

“You are” Mariona laughs.

But then Mario’s laugh drags Ona’s attention – who was talking with Salma and Jana - and she smirks at Lucy who kind of forgot why she’s supposed to be mad at her friend. The calm of the room is suddenly broken by a roar coming from Alexia’s voice as soon as she enters it.

“LUCIA ROBERTA TOUGH BRONZE!”

Lucy jumps and look at their captain like a teenager in trouble without knowing what she did bad. But the blonde came right in front of Lucy with a paper, the room suddenly quiet.

Lucy gets pale when she sees the sheet and Ona doesn't need longer explanations to understand what it is. However, Alexia doesn't hesitate to give more details.

“I was helping the administrative team to make the papers for our next trip, and they told me about this funny mistake, like they said. I did my research and it’s look like it isn’t actually a mistake. So will you please tell me why and how in the world it is written black on white that you are married to Ona Batlle Pascual?”

Ona makes a grimace when she feels almost all the eyes on the room going on her. It isn’t the way she wanted to tell people, but she can see Mapi from the corner of her eyes who seems to have the time of her life.

“You choose Lucy, Oni? What about us?” Jana jokes, but she is suddenly silent when she crosses Alexia’s eyes.

“Come on Ale’, what was I supposed to do? Ask you before asking her?” Lucy rolls her eyes.

“Well at least. Then I would have refused and took Ona on a secret island” Alexia groans.

“Your kids are growing up, Alexia, get over it” Irene says, patting Alexia shoulders. “Ask Pina about her love life, you’ll be stunned” she adds, before leaving the room.

“WHAT?!”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #woso one shot #lucy and ona #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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sunny-yyy · 3 days

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# 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰.

𝐆!𝐏 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐚 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

★ Warnings : MDNI!, Blowjob, Choking kink, Pet names, Cursing, Public sex

★ Words : 1.1K

★ Inspired by : "Lights Down Low"

Parties were your thing, you both liked the feeling of adrenaline and music flowing through your bodies, a large crowd, colorful lights of lefrectors and you both in the middle of the dance floor together, Bada didn't always show her jealousy, she didn't like it, she preferred to hide it and look away or just take you somewhere else, away from others

You were standing at the bar and drinking, felt that she approach you from behind, you feel her hard and massive cock rubbing against your ass and you turned red but tried to hide it best as you can, you looked behind your shoulder at her

What are you doing? Others are looking at us, move away

You felt she place her hands on your hips and pull you closer to her body

What was that supposed to mean? I begged you to not put on that slutty dress, but as usual you didn't listen to me, I think I need teach you some manners

She take the glass of alcohol from your hand and place it on the counter with a loud crash, you were both slightly drunk, she dragged you with her to the bathroom located right next to the bar and the dance floor which was full of people, she pushed you inside

Don't make jokes, we are in a public place

She pulled your hair hard, making you groan in pain and look at her

Will I look like someone who would joke? I'm just giving you a lesson so you'll remember that you should be a good girl, not a whore you seem to be in that dress now

You saw Bada leaning her back against the cold bathroom tiles, the music echoing on the walls

I'll try not to ruin your beautiful face, but I don't promise anything, you'll take all of it or I'll stuff it into your mouth and fuck you with all my might, understand?

You swallowed loudly when you heard her words, you saw that she was angry and jealous

On your knees.

Not wanting to upset her anymore, you did as she asked, you knelt in front of her and looked up, you saw her unbuttoning her belt and pants, lowering them to the level of her hips, she took it out of her pants and moved you closer

And now, as my good little girl, open your little mouth of yours and take it all deep into your throat

You opened your mouth giving her a signal which she immediately took advantage of, she buried herself deep inside your throat, you felt how hard she was, her dick was throbbing inside your throat

Fuck, your mouth is so damn tight and warm, it feels too good

You started moving your head, holding her hips with your hands, your legs felt like cotton candy, you were choking on her length, you felt your throat getting clogged from the inside and you were slowly choking on it and gagging, but you ignored it, wanting to give it to her like the greatest pleasure, you heard her soft grunts and moans under her breath, she arched her head back feeling your lips tighten on her hard cock

Shit, you take me so good, fuck me, please...faster

You felt her body shake with pleasure, she held your hair and lightly thrusted her dick into your mouth, you rolled your eyes as you felt her tip touch the very center of your throat

So fucking...good

You heard her quiet, cute moans and purrs under her breath, she felt good, she felt your wet walls tightening around her fat cock, you ran your tongue over her veins on it

You suck my dick too good baby, it's all yours, all yours... make it covered in marks, show everyone that this big cock is only yours, only I can fuck you so good like this

Your lips let out a soft moan when you heard her words, it motivated you even more to take action, she felt too good to believe it was all true, your mouth was her sweet spot, she saw the tip of it visible in your throat, she ran her hand down your neck to feel her own cock inside you, she cried out in pleasure, looking so damn beautifully with her hair stuck to her face with sweat and her low breathing ragged, her eyes were so damn hungry for you and your touch, she could barely stand it, you tightened your nails on her shapely hips, feeling that she is close and her massive cock grow even more ready to cum inside you throat

Don't let anything go to waste, swallow it all and show how good you are

You felt a single tear roll down your face, you felt good, proud of yourself for making your girlfriend feel pleased

I'm begging you...please please...let me cum

Bada start caressing your hair, accelerating the movements of her hips, you stroked her thigh gently, giving a sign that she could cum whenever she wanted, she bit her lip and smiled slightly tired, the party was in full swing and someone could come inside at any moment, but this that wasn't what mattered now, you wanted to make it up to her, seeing that you gave her a clear sign, she held your head in place and came hard inside you, feeling her hot cum flow straight into your throat and stomach, she moaned loudly and growled into your ear, feeling the pleasure and the fact that she cum inside your lips

After a moment, she carefully removed her still throbbing cock from your delicate little mouth, zipped up her pants and tucking it inside, Bada helped you up from your knees, she lightly wiped the remnants of her cum from your lips and licked her finger as if she had eaten the best dessert of her life

I didn't know it tasted so good

★ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 ★

A/N : REUPLOAD I really like that one from my deleted blog, so I choose to put this back here 𖹭 Let me know if you want me to put more reuploads on my blog <3 love you all

Taglist (open) : @mikachacha @badaleesbish @froufrousnowman @xiakiyama @badasmuse @badasoneandonly @prilux @samiosisig @levexer @throughthebluesea

#bada lee #kpop #street woman fighter x reader #team bebe #bada #wlw #lgbt #talk with sunny ˚⁎⁺˳ .#mdni #18+ only #bada lee fanfic #bada lee smut #bada g!p #bada lee x reader #bebe #swf2 x reader #bada lee fluff #lesbian

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aphroditelovesu · 3 days

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Handmaiden - II

❝commission: continuation of the Handmaiden story, with a pregnant Reader and fluffy romantic Alexander and Roxanna being all lovey-dovey and touchy with the Handmaiden.

❝ 📜 — lady l: this is a continuation that can be read by clicking here, if you want. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes, it's 2 am lol.

❝tw: pregnancy and past non-con, other than that, fluff.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!roxanna x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,252.

The last few weeks have been like a blur for you. All you remembered was being trapped in Roxanna's tent and being filled in day after day by Alexander. They seemed very excited about the prospect that you might get pregnant and that scared you more than anything.

Your body was sore these last few days, you noticed. Your breasts felt heavier and more tender to the touch and you've noticed a significant increase in your appetite recently. You knew what these signs could mean, though you desperately prayed to whatever gods were listening that it wasn't true.

But when you resigned yourself to the fact that you might be pregnant, you tried to think on the bright side. If you really were with a child, it meant that there would no longer be those nights when you would feel Alexander inside you, nor Roxanna's sweet words, words that left you more disgusted than the man inside your body.

You placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it slowly. Maybe being pregnant isn't all bad and you could finally get rid of it all.

Resigned to this, you sat on the cot and sighed as you waited for your lovers — you weren't sure if you should call them that — to arrive. You could finally break the news and get rid of them once you gave birth, you supposed.

"What do you think, sweet girl?" You were startled when you heard Roxanna's soft voice. You swallowed and looked at her, who was wearing simpler clothes than usual.

You shook your head and muttered weakly, "N-Nothing."

Roxanna narrowed her eyes and approached you, placing her hand on your face and raising your gaze. You can't help but be mesmerized by her dark eyes. Roxanna was a very beautiful woman and there was no denying that.

She was said to be the most beautiful woman in Asia after Darius's wife. But Stateira had died years ago, so that title remained to Roxanna.

"Do not lie to me." She scolded you and lowered your face, bringing it closer to hers. She watched you for a few minutes and closed the distance between you, sealing your lips in a soft kiss that quickly became passionate.

You blushed when you felt her tongue on yours. Roxanna didn't stop kissing you, she made you lie down on the cot and got on top of you, her soft hands grabbing the ornament of your dress, a dress that had been gifted to you by Alexander.

Roxanna deepened the kiss, exploring your mouth with a mixture of tenderness and desire. You tried to relax, but the weight of everything that was happening made your body tense. When she finally pulled away, her dark eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn't completely decipher.

"You look different," She said, studying your face with an expression of concern and curiosity, "There's something you're not telling me."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Roxanna, I.. I think I might be pregnant." Your voice came out weaker than you intended, almost a whisper.

Roxanna lit up at the news, her dark eyes shining with joy. She let out a soft laugh and wrapped you in a tight hug, "Oh, that's wonderful!" She exclaimed, kissing your face repeatedly, "You have given us such a precious gift!" She kissed your forehead, an almost maternal gesture.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the turmoil of emotions inside you, "Does that mean I won't have to... Go through this every night?" You asked, your voice filled with hope.

Roxanna paused for a moment, her gaze becoming more serious. "Maybe. But for now, we need to confirm. And if it's true, we'll need to take good care of you and the baby."

You nodded, accepting what seemed like your fate. Roxanna stood up from the cot and reached out to you, "Come, let's find Alexander. He needs to know this immediately."

With a resigned sigh, you accepted her hand and stood up, following her out of the tent. The camp was busy, with soldiers and servants passing from one side to the other. Each unfamiliar face seemed like a reminder of your own situation, trapped in a place where your body was not truly hers.

When you arrived at Alexander's tent, Roxanna gestured for you to wait outside while she went inside to talk to him. You could hear their hushed voices arguing, and then the imposing figure of Alexander appeared in the doorway.

He looked at you with a mixture of pride and expectation, "It is true?" He asked, his voice deep and authoritative.

You swallowed and nodded, "I think so."

Alexander smiled and walked over, placing a hand on your shoulder. "This is wonderful news," He said, "We will need a strong heir to continue our legacy."

You forced a smile, trying not to think about the uncertain future unfolding in front of you. Alexander turned to Roxanna and gave a brief wave, "Take care of her. I want her to be treated with the utmost care."

Roxanna nodded and took you back to the tent, where she began making plans to ensure you were comfortable and well fed, "We'll take care of you, sweet girl," Sshe said softly. "And our baby's."

As she spoke, you couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this baby was the key to a new life. A life where you could find a way to escape, where you could finally be free. But you should know better than to have false hope.

Alexander leaned over and kissed you on the forehead, and then on your stomach, in a loving gesture, "We need to make sure you and our child receive all the care possible. Nothing is more important right now."

After the news of your pregnancy, Alexander and Roxanna began to treat you with even greater care and devotion. Your routine changed significantly, and every aspect of your life became centered on you and your baby's well-being.

Alexander became incredibly protective. He ordered that you have the best doctors and healers available, and insisted that regular visits be made to monitor your health and that of the baby. He also had a special tent prepared, decorated with luxuries and comforts to ensure you were always relaxed and well looked after.

Furthermore, Alexander often brings you gifts: fresh fruits, fine fabrics, and delicate ornaments. He starts to visit you more frequently, not only to check on your condition, but also to talk and share tender moments. He talks with pride about the future, about the son or daughter that will come, and how that child will be the continuation of his legacy.

Roxanna, in turn, became almost motherly in her approach. She spends a lot of time by your side, making sure you are comfortable and happy. She has brought other handmaidens to care for you, prepare your favorite meals, and ensure that your diet is as nutritious as possible.

She also began sharing stories and legends about motherhood and parenting, seeking to not only calm your nerves but also create a deeper bond with you. Roxanna teaches you about baby care, and constantly massages your back and feet, relieving any discomfort.

They were excited about the prospect of having a child, after all, the child you were carrying belonged to them and not to you.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #alexander the great x reader #roxanna x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere roxanna x reader #commission #imagine #yandere imagine

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c-e-d-dreamer · 14 hours

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Top Shelf Love: Chapter 2

A/N: Has anyone else been watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs? Just Me? I haven't decided yet who I want to be in the final ever since my Canes have been eliminated... Anyways! All this to say that it's been fun writing this hockey fic while watching hockey, and I hope everyone enjoys reading this latest chapter :)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Despite having played the Kraken in Seattle once last season, Cassian has to admit it’s pretty nice being on the home side of Climate Pledge Arena. Sure, playing in a place like Madison Square Garden most nights was a dream, one he held since he was just a boy, but there’s something to be said about all the upgrades and modernity that a newer arena has to offer.

Following the director of team services out of the elevator, they come to a set of frosted glass doors, the Kraken logo split between the two. As they step closer, the doors automatically slide open, revealing the locker room, and Cassian barely swallows down an impressed whistle. It’s certainly spacious, even for an NHL locker room, LED lights and the Kraken logo displayed on the ceiling. At least, he won’t have to worry about stepping on it here.

“Valdarez.”

Cassian turns just in time to see a tall man walking toward him, blonde hair cut short and beard trimmed to just a stubble along his cheeks. His grin is wide and easy, revealing the chipped upper tooth on the left side. It’s easy enough for Cassian to recognize the captain of the team, Fionn Donoch. He still remembers watching him lift the Cup back when Cassian was just a teen.

“Wanted to make sure I came down to meet you myself,” Fionn continues, holding out his hand for Cassian to shake.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to come down and remind me who’s really in charge here?”

Fionn laughs good naturedly at the joke, slapping Cassian on the back. “You’re going to fit right in here. So, what do you think so far?”

Cassian glances around the locker room again, thinking back to the practice facilities he’d toured earlier. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, all the fancy arena upgrades.”

“Definitely not the worst place to call home, right? Listen, they don’t have the ice down yet, but I can still show you if you want.”

At Cassian’s nod, Fionn leads the way out of the locker room. They pass through a glass lined hallway, Fionn explaining how during game days, it’s lit with blue LED lights, how fans typically line the other side, banging the glass and getting the boys going. Then they’re stepping onto the home bench and the arena floor, and Cassian gets to appreciate what the view will be from ice level. He turns slowly in a circle, taking in the stands, the scoreboards, the afternoon light streaming through the wall of windows.

He takes a deep breath in, and for a moment, he can almost hear it. The blare of the goal horn. The roar of the crowd. He can almost feel the cool bite off the ice against his cheeks. Can almost feel the surety, the peace that comes from having it beneath his skates, from the comfortable weight of a stick in his hands.

“Have you met with Miller yet?”

Cassian shakes his head of the daydream, turning back toward Fionn. “Yeah, I met with the whole staff earlier this morning.”

He and Fionn continue to talk shop, talk the system, before making their way together toward the garage and their cars. Or, in Cassian’s case, his rental car until he’s able to secure a new apartment and get all his things shipped out. He supposes he should check in with that realtor Eris connected him with again.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out,” Fionn tells him, offering another easy grin as he hits the remote of his car. “Even if it’s just food recommendations.”

“Thanks, but I’m actually meant to be meeting up with a friend after this. She’s going to give me the whole tour of the city and all that.”

“She, huh? Let me know if I need to pass her number along to the wife. I don’t think they’ve done dues yet for this season.”

Cassian chuckles at the teasing smirk on Fionn’s face, the implication of his words. But then he thinks back to Nesta. Thinks back to the photos of her Instagram, to those icy blue eyes and that damn expression on her face. He can’t deny there’s been a low, simmering heat in his gut all morning, sparking at the fact he finally gets to meet Nesta, finally gets to witness that fire in person.

“Only if I’m lucky.”

~ * * * ~

Large, looping letters declare Grumpy & Sunshine Books above the door, the window display to the left of the door decked out with an artsy display of flowers and hanging book pages. Cassian glances down at the phone in his hand, the Map displayed on the screen there, confirming he’s in the right place. With a nod, he pockets his phone and presses forward, stepping through the front door.

The scent of paper and ink greets him as soon as Cassian steps inside, along with something vanilla. A candle that he can’t see? There’s a table display of books immediately inside, and Cassian casts them a cursory glance, taking in more looping text and what looks to be a variety of cartoon characters on the covers. He weaves around shelves and more table displays, past a wall of vines and succulents and a pink neon sign declaring Most ardently.

And at the very center of the store, Cassian finds the register and the woman he’s looking for bent over a book behind it. Cassian had known Nesta was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen since he first saw her picture, but seeing her in person is another thing altogether. Seeing her standing there in front of him almost has him wanting to drop down to his knees right there in the middle of the bookstore.

Her hair is braided back in an intricate updo, but with her head bent down, a strand of golden brown hair tumbles down her temple and kisses her jawline. Deft fingers brush the hair aside and behind her ear absently, further revealing the sharp cut of her cheekbones. When she turns the page of her book, her lips part, eyebrows jumping, and Cassian thinks he might give anything to see her eyes properly, to see if they spark and flare along with whatever she’s just read.

He’d give anything to have those eyes on him.

“Reading on the job?”

Nesta snaps her book closed, her attention finally rising, and Cassian gets his first look at those blue eyes he’s so often thought about. They’re a similar shade to Feyre’s, sure, and yet so different somehow. They seem to burn with a silver fire that leaves the cool shade of them looking like a storm roiled sea, especially when that gaze narrows on him, her lips pinching into a scowl.

Cassian doesn’t let the reaction deter him. If anything, it only stokes the embers in his own chest, beckoning him into the flames. He closes the final few steps between them, leaning against the register counter with a smirk.

“Nesta Archeron,” Cassian greets.

“Cassian Valdarez.”

His name falling from her lips shouldn’t sound as sweet as it does, especially with the clipped tone she speaks it, but a zing of electricity still skitters down Cassian’s spine nonetheless. What would it take to have her saying his name again? To have her sighing it? For him to taste it?

“So you do know me, then?” Cassian drawls, daring to glance down at her book. A Calanmai Secret. “And yet, you couldn’t answer any of my texts.”

Nesta crosses her arms, leveling him with a hard look that Cassian is sure is meant to send him running. “Most people would take that as a hint. Yet here you are. In my bookstore.”

“Feyre said you’d show me around the city.”

“Feyre asked me to show you around. I don’t recall ever agreeing.”

“I’m starting to think you’re the grumpy on the sign outside,” Cassian chuckles softly, hoping to at least earn the hint of a smile at his teasing joke.

Instead, Nesta settles both hands on the register counter, leaning forward. “Buy something. Or get out of my store.”

Cassian tilts his head, taken back by the harsh reaction. He’ll clearly have to work harder to get her to smile or laugh. Challenge accepted. Already, he can hear Az’s voice in his mind, making a dry comment about his taste in women. Already, he can see the way Rhys would roll his eyes.

“Fine,” Cassian says easily with a shrug, stepping back from the register counter. “The historical section is…?”

Nesta merely points to a bookshelf to his left, so Cassian turns his attention toward it. He grabs the first book within reach, the spine a blue and green. He’s intent on striding right back up to Nesta and proudly purchasing the book, but then he catches sight of the cover. Of the shirtless man that takes up the cover, the model’s skin clearly oiled up so every ridge of muscle is on full display. A tartan hangs low on the man’s hips, and just above the man the title is scrawled, Highland Escape.

“This… is not what I meant.”

Rather than direct him toward the historical fiction section, Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, her lips tugging up into a smirk. And, oh, there’s a real challenge blazing in her gaze now, that fire that had called to Cassian even in photo form sparking in her blue eyes. It’s beautiful, that look on her face, daring him to play.

He glances around the bookstore again, this time with fresh eyes. The greenery on the walls, the different table displays, the pink neon sign with an Austen quote. Of course. He’d heard of bookstores like these, ones that specialize in romance novels.

When he looks back toward Nesta, she has that same daring expression on her face, her smirk already starting to grow as though she’s won. As beautiful as it is, as beautiful as she is, Cassian refuses to back down. Heat flares through his chest as he fights back a smirk of his own, more than ready to keep this game of theirs going. He clears his throat and turns back to the shelf, sliding the book in his hand back into place. He takes his time reading the different titles along the spine before finally settling on a different book, tugging it free and sidling back up at the register counter.

“I’ll take this one,” Cassian tells Nesta with a grin, sliding the book across to her.

Nesta hums, glancing down toward the book he’s selected. Viking Bride. Cassian waits for the mask to slip, to see a hint of a reaction take over her face, but she’s nothing but cool and silent as she rings him up. The transaction complete, she tucks his receipt into the cover of the book, sliding it back over to him.

“Have a nice day,” Nesta offers, her tone mockingly sweet.

Cassian reaches for the book, his fingers brushing along Nesta’s own until she snatches her hand away. “You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”

Nesta snorts and rolls her eyes. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Oh, yeah, Nes, you’re a real ray of sunshine right now.”

“Don’t call me that.”

There’s no stopping Cassian’s smirk at earning that reaction, a little tidbit he tucks away, even as he continues, “but it’s not really fair, is it? I mean, you don’t even know me. This is literally our first time ever meeting. What could I have possibly done?”

Nesta’s face falls, a new emotion flashing through her blue eyes. It’s certainly the cool, haughty mask slipping away, but not how Cassian wanted. He frowns at the sudden change, but before he can even begin to attempt to decipher what that emotion is, what that expression could mean, Nesta turns away from him.

“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta doesn’t know what she expected. She knew, in the back of her mind, that despite never responding to a single one of Cassian’s texts, that that wouldn’t be the last of things. But she can’t say she expected him to show up at her bookstore. Didn’t expect him to stride in with a smirk and an easy confidence, to almost proudly buy a viking romance novel.

She wants to hate that he still looks as good as the last time she saw him at Feyre’s engagement party. His hair is loose, dark curls hanging around his temples and tumbling down to his shoulders. His eyes are a hazel as bright as Nesta remembers, a maze of greens and golds that seem to spark with a flickering flame. And that cocksure smile has no damn right being as attractive as it is.

She wants to hate the way he didn’t back down from her ire, from all the quips she threw his way. Instead, he only seemed to rise to meet her, seemed to enjoy it as though it was a game between them. She wants to deny the way his fingers brushing against hers sent a shiver ricocheting up her arm and down her spine.

And he doesn’t even remember her.

She’d felt stupid that night in New York, but she feels even more stupid now. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology or anything, but this is like a slap in the face. And on the heels of that churning feeling roiling through her gut is anger. It burns red hot through her veins, flaring like a wildfire that licks between her ribs.

“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”

Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, that cocksure smirk finally slipping. “You want me to leave you alone?”

“What are you doing here?”

Nesta’s attention snaps toward the new voice, finding Emerie standing just inside the door, her brown eyes narrowed on Cassian.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Cassian answers easily despite Emerie’s clipped question. He holds his hand out toward her to shake, but Emerie doesn’t take it. “I’m Cassian.”

“I know who you are,” Emerie tells him airily, stepping behind the register counter.

She reaches out as she passes, fingers curling around Nesta’s wrist and squeezing lightly. It’s a silent question out of view of Cassian’s eyes, to check that she’s alright. Nesta meets her best friend’s gaze and offers the smallest hint of a nod.

“You do? Are you a hockey fan, then?” Cassian asks, unaware of the silent conversation happening without him.

Emerie snorts at the implication. “No. There’s only one hockey fan in this bookstore, and it’s not me.”

“I feel like you don’t like me either…” Cassian comments quietly, tilting his head slightly. “Is everyone the grumpy on the sign? You might want to consider a new name if there’s no sunshine.”

“Gwyn is the sunshine, and trust me when I say you’re lucky that you don’t have to deal with her.”

Nesta has to press her lips together to keep from laughing at the way Cassian’s eyes widen slightly in horror. It’s certainly not a misplaced expression. Gwyn was one of Nesta’s first friends when she first moved to Seattle, and while the redhead is one of the kindest people Nesta has ever met, she’s also the fiercest. Beneath all the bright smiles and easy laughs there’s a viciousness that can and will be released, especially when it comes to those Gwyn cares about.

“I don’t know. You said there’s one hockey fan, right? And I’m guessing it’s this Gwyn. Maybe I do want to meet her. We can talk all things Kraken.”

“Gwyn’s a Nashville fan,” Nesta informs Cassian. “They’re her hometown team.”

And dedicated to her hometown team she is. Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the first time she and Gwyn went to grab dinner at a sport’s bar, the first time witnessing the way Gwyn ranted and shouted at the large television on the wall.

Nesta waits for Cassian’s face to drop again at this newest tidbit, but what she doesn’t expect is for his grin to grow wider and stretch across his face, for the golds of his eyes to glint. He looks like a child that just stepped foot into a candy store, like this is exactly what he was waiting for, and it has Nesta frowning in confusion.

“My brother plays for the Preds. Azriel. You know, if she wanted, I could probably get her a signed jersey.”

“Gwyn would absolutely lose her mind,” Emerie comments under her breath.

“And what’s the price for this signed jersey?” Nesta dares to ask, squinting suspiciously at Cassian.

Cassian shrugs a shoulder, all faux innocence. “Well, you clearly don’t want to give me a tour, so how about just dinner? You can give me a list of your recommendations then.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“A dinner for a jersey. Sounds like a fair trade to me. Don’t you think, Nes?”

Nesta sighs, shaking her head. “Fine. One dinner and in exchange, you’ll get a Nashville jersey signed. By the whole team.”

Cassian’s smile twists into a smirk, gaze flickering and darkening as he holds his hand out across the register counter. “It’s a bargain.”

Nesta already knows she’s going to regret this, but she reaches forward, sliding her hand into Cassian’s. His fingers curl around her own with ease, his grip surprisingly gentle. His hand is so large compared to her own, practically swallowing hers whole, and the callouses slide against her palm when she pulls her hand back. She has to forcibly shove down a shiver before it can skitter up her spine in reaction.

“Let’s go, then,” Nesta says, gathering up her things where she stored them beneath the register.

She and Emerie share one final look before Nesta leads Cassian out the door and back onto the street. Thankfully, it’s a short walk to one of the local restaurants that focuses on PNW cuisine, a good introduction for Cassian to the city and area.

“So, I have to ask,” Cassian begins once they’re seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant, the waitress vanishing with their drink order.

“Ask about what?” Nesta asks, not even bothering to look up from the menu even though she already knows what she’s going to order.

“About the bookstore.”

Nesta’s gaze flicks over the top of the menu in her hands, eyes narrowing. “Some people like to read, meathead.”

Cassian tips his head back and lets out a booming laugh, earning a few curious looks from the other tables. “Did you really just call me a meathead?”

“I’ve seen you play, seen you fighting other players on the ice.”

“Are you watching my games, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning across the table to smirk at her, those hazel eyes of his glinting in amusement again.

Nesta rolls her eyes, leaning forward as well to sneer, “you wish. I told you, Gwyn is a Nashville fan. I occasionally watch a game with her.”

Cassian hums, and Nesta bristles at the way he continues to eye her. Something about those hazel eyes is almost unsettling, as though he’s looking through her in a way no one ever has. It takes everything within her not to shift in her seat, to simply turn her attention back to her menu.

“History.”

Nesta looks up again with a frown. “What?”

“History,” Cassian repeats, leaning back casually in his chair. “That’s what my degree is in.”

“I thought hockey players got drafted at eighteen? That’s what Gwyn has always said at least.”

“That’s true, but not everyone joins the NHL right out of the draft. I played for my college team for two years before I was finally called up.”

“And what? You magically finished your degree in two years?”

Cassian laughs again, this time a low chuckle that’s surprisingly warm, that practically wraps itself around Nesta’s limbs. “Lucky for me, there’s this really amazing thing called online classes.”

“Oh.”

Nesta doesn’t know what else to say to that, but thankfully, she’s spared when their waitress returns to their table, ready to take their food orders. When she steps away again, Nesta no longer has her menu to use as a distraction, has nowhere else to look except at the man sitting across the table from her. The low light of the restaurant cuts shadows across his cheeks and jaw, the candles on each table flickering in and deepening the hazel of his eyes. The large span of his hand is on full display as he curls his fingers easily around the bottle of wine he ordered, filling Nesta’s glass before he fills his own.

“You never answered my question,” Cassian tells her, setting the bottle back down. “About the bookstore.”

“I told you, some people enjoy reading. Myself included.”

“Yeah, but I remember Feyre talking about how you went to law school, that you’d be terrorizing courtrooms and making everyone regret going up against you. So, what happened? How do you go from lawyer to bookstore owner?”

The urge to lash out, to make a snapping reply that diverts the conversation, claws up Nesta’s throat. She rarely talks about it, about him. The reason she made the move to Seattle in the first place, leaving a gaping wound as big as the distance between them with her sisters. The reason the dream she thought she had, the dream she swore she always wanted, shattered between her fingers like glass, shards cutting deep and leaving her bloodied. The reason she retreated and fell back into the shadows, that Emerie and Gwyn had to pull her out.

There are days where it all still feels so raw, no matter how much time has passed. Days where a sickening feeling will churn through her gut as soon as she opens her eyes. Days where she can still hear his voice, still feel his hands. Days where the voice in her mind morphs into her own worst thoughts, into her mother’s clipped, cool tone.

“My life fell apart, and I decided to open a bookstore with my friends,” Nesta finally answers with a derisive drawl. “Happy?”

Cassian’s face falls, lips tugging down in a small frown. “What does that mean?”

Nesta doesn’t want his pity. It’s the one thing she hates most, people looking at her with pity in their eyes. As though they feel sorry for her, as though she’s weak. When she finally walked away, finally got out, she swore to herself that she would never be weak again, and she’ll be damned if she starts now.

“Last I checked, I don’t have to tell you my whole life story. I answered your question, did I not?”

“Nes–”

“You get one dinner as part of our bargain, remember? Do you really want to ruin it?”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #Top Shelf Love #my fic

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raina-at · 2 days

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Journey

Warning: You guys, this one HURTS. Seriously. Trigger warning for death, grief, sadness.

Proceed at your own risk. And don't yell at me afterwards if you proceeded anyway and this hurt you. You were warned.

----

There’s a bit of dirt on her dress. If she had to guess, she’d say it’s probably Jo’s fault. But she’s Sherlock Holmes’ daughter, so she doesn’t guess. She deduces.

She wets her finger, picks up a crumb.

Rice cake. Raspberry flavour. Jo’s favourite.

She brushes it off. Then she fixes her hair. Checks her shoes.

Anything to delay. Anything to put off this particular journey for a few more seconds.

She meets her own eyes in the mirror. “Come on, Watson,” she whispers. “You can do this. You have to do this. Remember your promise.”

Look out for him, he’d said to her. Before he couldn’t speak anymore. Look out for each other.

Fuck, she’s crying already.

No. She bites the inside of her cheek and keeps the tears in.

She had forty years of parenting. Now she needs to step up. She needs to be strong.

She nods at herself one last time in the mirror, then goes down the corridor to the bedroom door. She knocks, just once. “Are you ready?”

The silence that greets her is ever so slightly sarcastic.

Stupid question, she chides herself. “Let me rephrase. Are you dressed?”

He opens the door. Of course he’s immaculate. The black suit fits him perfectly, and even though age has somewhat diminished his ramrod straightness, he still looks distinguished and elegant without much effort. His face is a study of outward stoicism, and if Rosie hadn’t known him her entire life, she wouldn’t have noticed how much of a strain it is for him to take even a single step.

This is hell for her. She can’t even imagine what it’s like for him.

But she was raised by two British men of a certain age, and public displays of emotion make her as viscerally uncomfortable as it does them, therefore she knows how important it is to him to keep his composure in public.

They did a lot of crying together when it happened. Though quite honestly, it was a relief when it was finally over. The weeks and months prior were pure hell, for all of them. Dad was always a dignified man whose autonomy was important to him. When he refused further treatment, she supported him, and so did Paps.

It’s the circle of life, she knows this. They help you into this world, you help them out of it. You travel together for a time, and then you have to let them go. And it’s her duty to accompany him on this last leg of his journey.

But she has a more important responsibility.

She holds out her hand, and Paps takes it. They help each other into their coats. Paps’ coat is unchanged, and she wonders what he paid for this one. Every time one of his coats gives out, he has one made. With the same red embroidery around the buttonhole.

“Where’s Jo?” Paps asks, the first words he said all morning.

“Mark’s taking her. They’re meeting us there.”

He nods in acknowledgement.

They walk outside. It’s incongruously sunny. It’s cold, and windy, and she’s glad for her coat.

Should it be sunny, on a day like this?

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, she thinks.

But no. The hard part is that life goes on. That nothing stops even for a second, just because your heart is ashes. Dinner, errands, bedtime stories, maths tests, patients, laundry, paperwork, bills.

Ironically it makes it easier, for her. That she has something to do. That she has somewhere to go. That she’s not in the home they shared alone, staring at the walls, remembering.

“Paps,” she says, turning around, leaning against the car. “There’s something…” she takes a breath. “I wanted to ask you something.”

He makes a gesture for her to continue, but his eyes are on the horizon, and she knows he’s far away, locked somewhere in his mind palace to get through the day.

“Admin is putting a lot of pressure on me to take more hours. Department can’t afford another hire, they need shifts covered, et cetera. And we need the money. But it means I’d have twelve-hour shifts again, and Mark’s rarely home before six. Jo comes home from school at four. That’s two hours I don’t know how to cover.”

He looks at her, uncomprehending. You need to be more clear, she reminds herself. He’s not at his best today. “221A is empty. I thought, maybe…” she trails off, making a ‘you fill in the gaps’ kind of gesture. Then she takes a deep breath and fills in the gaps herself. “I thought you might want to come home?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He’s watching the horizon with a far away expression. Then he looks at her and gives her a slight smile. “I play the violin at three in the morning. And I sometimes don’t talk for days. Would that bother you?”

“I lived with you for twenty-four years, Paps. I think I’ll be fine,” Rosie says dryly, but she’s biting her cheek to keep the tears in again, because she knows what he’s thinking.

Full circle.

He nods at her, just once. “I noticed little Watson’s maths needs some polishing,” he says, with a trace of his old self shining through. “And quite frankly, her chess skills are appalling.”

“I expect you to turn her into a grand master by the time she’s twelve,” Rosie says, and discovers that it’s, after all, possible to smile.

They both stand in the sun for a second, letting the small glimmer of joy warm them.

Then Paps sighs. “It’s time, isn’t it.”

Rosie nods, and this time, she doesn’t check her tears.

“Should I drive?” Paps asks, gently.

She just gives him a look, and he chuckles. “Fair enough.” He nods at the car, then puts a hand on her shoulder. “Into battle, Watson.”

She nods. Wipes her tears. Takes his hand. “Into battle, Holmes.”

-------

Rosie is quoting a line from Funeral Blues by WH Auden.

I'm not going to apologise for making you sad. I warned you. Remember that before you yell at me in the comments.

May is almost over, you guys. How did that happen?!

Tags under the cut as always, please notfiy me if you want to be taggeed or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #may prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #my fic #journey #trigger warning death #trigger warning grief #proceed at your own risk #this will hurt you #you were warned

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 3 days

Text

hawthorne brothers after a (verbal) fight with their so head canons

my moot @never-enough-novels requested this a while ago (at this point she might not even remember asking for this), so here it is. hope you like them <3.

jameson:

i mentioned this in my averyjameson fight hcs post, but, whenever they fight, jameson gets scared that avery will realize she deserves better and leave him. bc of this, when they're done fighting, he always cuddles up next to her for comfort. avery just sits there with him telling him that he's stuck with her.

jameson tends to blame himself for most of his fights with avery bc he thinks he's the problem (anti-hero) which makes him hate himself so, after they fight, they always sit down and watch friends or any other tv show to distract him (he's never explicitly said that it makes him hate himself but avery can see it. she started the 'tradition').

he hates fighting so he usually starts planning their next date after one. he's next to her lying in bed watching their tv show typing ideas on his phone. he sometimes asks avery for some input. he'll be there like 'hey, heiress, should our next date be in italy or spain', and avery just tells him that he doesn't have to do so much and they can just have a candlelit rooftop date. jameson then tells her she deserves the world and that he'll do anything for her. avery ends up shedding a few (happy) tears discreetly.

he becomes a touch starved mess. he's either holding avery's hand, begging for hugs and cuddles, or pulling avery into his arms so that he can stroke her hair and kiss her face.

fights tend to make him tired so he usually falls asleep next to avery while they watch their show. avery sees this, closes the tv, pulls him into her arms, and falls asleep too.

grayson:

like jameson, he'll start blaming himself for his fights with his so, but, instead of finding healthy ways to distract himself, he overworks himself the next day to forget about it (i say next day bc he spends the day of the fight (after it of course) with his so)

fights give him anxiety so, to losen up, he takes a bubble bath (and sometimes his so joins him)

he finds this weird, but he always feels the need to change clothes after a fight bc when he looks in the mirror and sees the suit that he wore during the fight, he starts thinking about it and it makes him feel bad. his so usually has another suit out ready for him to put on.

at night, when his so is sleeping, he goes out for a swim to clear his mind. sometimes, one of his brothers (or avery) finds him and tells to get back to bed bc its late. sometimes he listens and sometimes he doesn't. when he doesn't they just sit there with him/keep an eye on him from further away if he wants to be alone. (this might seem ooc of the brothers/avery but, in my head, in the books, whenever grayson is out for a swim at night, its usually around 10 pm and here its like 3am which is why avery/the brothers intervene)

he has to go to the bathroom and fix his hair bc he tends to run his hands through his hair when he's fighting with his so and it always messes it up, enough to annoy him.

xander: (i honestly see him and max as the type of couple who don't fight)

fights take a lot out of him bc he rarely has them which makes him hungry. he usually goes downstairs to have a scone and ends up bringing one up for max or he gets on of the maids to bring some food up for them.

he goes out the next day and buys items to make max a care package. he buys little bows and glitter to decorate (a rich boy's care package includes things like : 10 new books (or more), 100 bags of her favorite candy that she'll never have the time to finish (he only puts on in the care package and the rest he gets shipped to her), a new necklace with a customized pendant that reminds him of her, and more all wrapped and placed in a designer handbag)

in bed, later that night, he secretly wonders if he's good enough of a boyfriend for max. he doesn't dwell on this for too long bc he's scared of his own emotions, but he does take some time to think about it.

if he does dwell on it (what i mentioned in my last hc), he gets up and goes to his lab. he usually ends up building smth that he knows max wants to please her and to prove to himself that he's good enough (also building distracts him. its a 2 in 1). also, idk how to explain this so here's an example: max and him fought him bc he didn't give max enough kisses in her opinion so he builds a machine that slaps him every hour and yells 'kisses' (they would never fight about this, but this was easy to come up with a gadget for it).

sometimes, when he dwells on it (what i mentioned 2 hcs ago), he ends up taking a walk bc fresh air always clears his mind.

nash:

his first insitnct, after a fight, is to ask libby if she's ok. his feelings don't matter to him if she's not ok. if she's ok, he'll kiss her and think about what he's feeling (if he isn't happy), but if she's sad, he'll pick her up, sit her on his lap, and whisper sweet nothing into her ear.

libby doesn't need to explicitly say this, but nash knows she has abandonment issues and thinks that their fights will someday lead to him leaving her, so sits he goes out and buys her a gift and a card in which he writes that he'll never leave her and that he can't wait to grow old with her.

he's obsessed with her playing with his hair and it always cheers him up. their fights will sometimes sour his mood so he lays his head down on her lap which she knows means he wants her to play with his hair. he'll close his eyes and either relax or fall asleep. libby finds him adorable.

bc fights sour his mood, he usually brings libby out for some horseback riding. he also gets some food ready so that, during their ride, they can sit down somewhere and have a picnic. usually they take these rides close to sunset so that, when they settle down to eat, the sun is setting.

if the fight upset him or made him anxious and he doesn't want to talk about his feelings to libby, he either heads to the bar at night (not to drink but to bartend) or he gets a massage therapist to show up at the house and give him a massage. this usually ends up clearing his mind.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu #averyjameson #libbynash #maxander

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perseabeth · 14 hours

Text

Milo’s Lyre

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and get your heart broken in the most beautiful way possible. I published another one shot about this fic titled “What If” you can read it too- I got this idea last night during my angst hour with @anotheroceanid, and after few tears, and of course her inspiration, I decided that you should cry with us too! - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character, all belong to the great author of the fic that made me cry more than my college curriculum enjoy ✨

Apollo no longer remembers how the dream began. He isn't even certain how he can dream at all. He once believed that gods were immune to such mortal experiences, but ever since his love vanished, dreams and nightmares have haunted him in every stolen moment he tries to delve into slumber. This dream, however, was different.

It was serene. Apollo sat upon a rock, a glittering sea stretching before him. His heart ached with a profound sorrow. The sea... How could he ever gaze upon the ocean again without seeing her eyes? How could he ever look at the waves and not remember the way they mirrored her gaze?

Sometimes, he would embark on frantic quests, searching for the sea that truly captured the color of her eyes, just to glimpse those sea-green eyes once more.

How long had it been? Seven years? For gods, time was an irrelevant concept, a fleeting notion in the face of immortality. Normally, seven years would pass as quickly as seven minutes. But these seven years... These years had stretched into millennia. He never knew time could crawl so slowly, could torture so mercilessly.

Apollo cradled his golden lyre, the instrument that once brought her such joy. He remembered the first time she heard him play, the radiant sparkle in her eyes, the breathtaking smile that stole his soul forever. His fingers, delicate and reverent, brushed against the strings, coaxing a serene melody from the lyre. Each note floated through the air like a whisper, and even the restless sea stilled its waves, entranced by the music.

Minutes passed in this harmonious reverie until Apollo felt a presence behind him—a presence so calm, so peaceful, carrying the unmistakable scent of the sea. Hope surged through him. Could it be his love? Could he finally see her in his dreams?

He turned his head slowly, afraid to wake from this fragile hope. As he did, his eyes met sea-green ones, and his heart melted, his soul awakening. Percy’s eyes… But something wasn’t right. The figure before him was a young boy, no older than six or seven, with golden curls that framed his face in a halo of sunlight. The boy was breathtakingly beautiful. Apollo's heart clenched as he took in the boy’s features. They reminded him of himself in one moment, and then of his love in the next, as if he were a perfect blend of them both.

Apollo's heart clenched. This boy… he looked like the son he might have had if Percy were still here. Shock rendered him speechless as he gazed into those familiar eyes. It was as if the child embodied the essence of their love, a living testament to a future that had been cruelly taken from them.

The boy stood cautiously, studying Apollo with a curious intensity. His golden locks tumbled over his forehead, and he wore a simple chiton that only enhanced his cherubic innocence.

“Can I see this, sir?” The boy’s voice was soft and melodic, yet firm and confident—far beyond his six years. His eyes darted to the lyre in Apollo’s hands, and Apollo finally realized what the boy wanted.

But Apollo was too shocked to speak. The boy stood silently, waiting for Apollo's response. When he finally understood, he nodded. “Of course.”

The boy took careful steps toward Apollo. As he stood before him, the sun god wondered who had raised this child. Most children snatched what they desired without hesitation; they didn’t wait politely for anything. Yet, this boy's sea-green eyes looked up at him with pure innocence and curiosity. He bent slightly to study the lyre, his hands kept respectfully to himself as if he were afraid to touch it.

Apollo realized the boy wouldn't touch the lyre unless he gave it to him.

“Here,” he extended the lyre to the boy. “You can hold it.

The boy hesitated, shaking his head. “No, no, it must be precious.” His voice was filled with a respectful reverence that belied his age, making Apollo's heart beats with admiration.

Apollo gave the young boy a gentle smile. “No, it will be fine here,” he said, pushing the lyre into the boy’s hands. The boy took it with utmost care, his eyes filling with wonder as he studied it. He looked at the lyre as if it were the eighth wonder of the world, his interest and amazement clear.

“Can I ask how you made it, sir? It is amazingly beautiful,” the boy asked, his curiosity shining with pure beauty and innocence.

Apollo smiled fondly, remembering how the lyre came into his possession. “My brother stole my cattle and gave this to me,” he chuckled.

The boy chuckled too, hiding his mouth with his small hands. “This reminds me of a story Mama tells me, about the sun god and the messenger of the gods.”

Apollo froze. The boy’s interest shifted back to the lyre, while Apollo tried to process the millions of questions racing through his mind. His mother told him stories? Apollo was about to ask more when the boy looked up and spoke in his soft, melodic voice. “If you don’t mind… can you,” the boy paused, choosing his words carefully, “can you teach me how to play it? The melody you played was beautiful.”

Apollo, still dumbfounded, watched the boy. “I think I figured out how to make it, but I want to play it for Mama. She seems sad lately, and she loves melodies so much. She sings me lullabies, but I don’t know any to sing for her. So maybe, maybe I can play her something nice that makes her smile.”

Questions swirled around Apollo’s mind. How could a child so young speak with such confidence and wisdom? But the most pressing question came to his lips. “Where is your mother?”

The boy, still focused on the lyre, answered, “On an island.”

“Where is the island?” Apollo asked.

The boy smiled as if Apollo had asked something silly, his smile bright and peaceful. “In the sea,” he said, then paused. “But Mama says the sea is dangerous.”

Apollo looked at the boy, confused. The boy’s answers seemed to reveal everything and nothing at the same time. Dangerous sea? He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Apollo's shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Perhaps his mind was creating illusions, offering a glimpse of a future he could never have, mixing him and Percy together to create the child Apollo had always dreamed Percy would carry.

Apollo looked into the boy’s eyes—Percy’s eyes—deciding that maybe, just maybe, he could live this dream for as long as it lasted. For as long as this dream allows him, he wants to imagine that this, indeed, is the child he created with his love. He held the boy’s hand, guiding him on where to place his fingers on the lyre. “Here, let me teach you” he said softly, positioning the small fingers with gentle precision on the lyre’s strings.

The boy was, in fact, the eighth wonder of the world, Apollo thought, as he looked at the young boy whose golden locks glowed in the sunlight.

Once—that was all the instruction the boy needed to create the most beautiful symphony Apollo had ever heard. The boy’s fingers danced over the strings with an innate skill, plucking and strumming as if he had been born for this. The melody flowed seamlessly, each note a shimmering thread weaving through the air, enchanting everything around them.

Apollo smiled fondly at the boy, who was also in amazement, his radiant smile outshining even the sun. The sea sparkled with the boy’s joy, and the sun, feeling almost humbled, began to set beyond the horizon, casting a golden portrait over the world.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and carefully extended the lyre back to Apollo. “I have to wake up now. Mama will wake up soon, and I can’t let her do things alone.”

Apollo’s brows knotted in confusion. “Where are we now?”

The boy smiled brightly. “We are dreaming, of course.”

Apollo took the lyre, looking at it before turning back to the boy. “You can have it.”

The young boy shook his head, making his golden locks jiggle. “It is a gift from your brother. It is precious.” He smiled, a smile that warmed Apollo’s soul, his beautiful sea-green eyes glowing with kindness. Apollo didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to see Percy’s eyes a little longer. Even if it was a hallucination, he wanted to remember those eyes longer.

The boy smiled at Apollo as he began to turn his head. “Thank you for helping me make Mama happy. Next time, when we meet, I’ll try to teach you something too.” And with that, the boy started walking away, slowly dissolving into the dream's fabric.

It didn't take long for Apollo to lose consciousness of the dream. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his bed on Olympus, the morning light casting a gentle glow through his window.

Apollo sat on his bed, his chamber unchanged, Olympus glowing just as it always had. But his heart was heavy with a sorrow that even the gods would struggle to bear.

A sad smile graced Apollo’s lips—a smile that held an ocean of pain, a pain too deep for mortals to fathom. The Fates had always been cruel to him, but now even his own mind seemed to conspire in their cruelty, conjuring hallucinations to torment him.

A young boy, the eighth wonder of the world—a boy he could have had if Percy were still with him. If only she were here, somewhere beside him. He was certain she would have adored this boy, cherished him with all her heart. But he was not real.. And his Percy was not here.

Apollo rubbed his eyes, longing to wake up, to return to his duties, to mourn a girl whose disappearance remained a haunting mystery. And to mourn an imaginary son, whom he was certain he would never see again.

—————————

Gaea’s Island

Percy was puzzled by her son’s urgency that morning. After helping her with his brothers, he dashed outside, claiming to have something important to attend to.

She didn’t pry too much into Milo’s affairs, trusting that whatever he was up to, he knew how to avoid trouble, unlike her eldest, Hector. As long as it was Milo, she assured herself, he would be fine.

But Milo had been unusually preoccupied for days now. Whenever Percy found him, he would hastily hide something behind his back, claiming it was important. Percy didn’t dwell on it, assuming it was a surprise he didn’t want her to see. She smiled at the thought.

Then, she heard it—a beautiful melody that froze her in place. For a moment, she thought it was a dream, a hallucination conjured by her own longing. an image of a man with the most beautiful sky-blue eyes, creating serene melodies for her suddenly occupied her mind.. But the sound of footsteps snapped her back to reality. She followed the sound, Hector and Luke trailing behind her, until she suddenly stopped.

On the grass sat a young boy with golden locks, his sea-green eyes shining with joy as he looked up at her. Her Milo. In his hands, a wooden instrument created the most enchanting melody she had ever heard since she arrived to this island

It didn’t take long for Percy to realize what her son had made. Her heart swelled with oceans of emotions, pain, sorrow, pride and love as she beheld her precious Milo, crafting a lyre with his own small hands.

Percy approached Milo, her heart overflowing with a mixture of confusion and love. A single tear traced its way down her cheek as Hector and Luke stood nearby, mesmerized by the beautiful sound emanating from Milo's creation.

Milo looked up at her with a bright smile, but confusion clouded his features as he furrowed his brows. “You don’t like it, Mama? I made it for you.”

Without hesitation, Percy rushed forward, enveloping Milo in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love it… I love it so much.”

“Then why are you crying?” Milo asked, puzzled.

“They're tears of happiness, my love,” Percy whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears of happiness—tears of memories, pain, and pride. Tears of many things.

Milo pulled away, showing Percy the delicate wooden instrument he had crafted. “Here, let me show you more,” he said eagerly, his fingers deftly plucking at the strings.

As Milo played, Percy couldn’t help but notice how he resembled his father in that moment. Not a mere version, like Luke, but a reflection—a radiant embodiment of his father's spirit.

Then it struck her—how did Milo know about the lyre? It was Hermes who created it, nd given it to Apollo, later becoming Apollo's symbol. How could Milo know exactly what a lyre looked like? She had always believed that their father lived on in their souls, but she never imagined it would manifest in such a tangible way.

Puzzled, Percy looked at her son. “How did you learn to make this?”

Milo beamed at her, his eyes sparkling with the wisdom of the universe. “In my dream, of course, Mama.”

The answer did little to quell Percy’s bewilderment. She watched as her son proudly displayed his creation, insisting that she should smile because he had made it for her happiness. He even taught his brothers how to hold it so they could all bring joy to their mother.

She watched them take turns playing, each displaying a pure talent they hadn’t known they possessed

Her Milo, her precious children, and her precious lost love…

A few days later, the lyre disappeared from the island, as if it had never existed before.

#wthb fic #wthb Apollo #wthb percy #wthb Milo #perpollo #Bahia writing

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