#raised to be anything else. if you never had another option was it really a choice. same with his general solitude i think

[wexhappyxfew]

Hi! I love your Silver Bullets girls, and Carrie x Douglass has a special place in my heart (even more since your last writing with them). So, for them I'd like to ask 35. (kissing their bruises and scars) from the Touch prompt list or 5. (the last thing they're thinking about before falling asleep is always the other) from the Subtle love list. 💗

HI FRIEND!!!! thank you so much for sending this and i am so so glad carrie and dougie have meant a lot, alongside the Silver Bullets girls (it seriously means SO MUCH and i always say it but its true!!!) THANK YOU FOR THE OPTIONS TOO!!!! i couldn't help myself and went with the second prompt (5) and decided to focus on some of their earlier meetings with one another and how they've developed into the people today. let's just say, i had a lot of fun! thank you SO MUCH!!!!! :D this was so much fun! <3 (and sorry for the wait for this....the semester was its usual chaos haha!)

greenland

(a/n): safe to say, for my carrie x dougie enjoyers, this was FUN to write. we get a bit into life before the annie bradshaw era of silver bullets! WITH captain birdie faulkner. BUT, because i am a sucker for someone who haunts the narrative and is simply talked about, we don't actually meet birdie here, just hear about her as a leader and all (a running theme!). we also get a bit into the storyline of what dougie means when he said he wanted to ask carrie to 'dance in greenland in THIS PIECE. and also carrie's dislike for greenland lmfao. please enjoy!!! <3

Greenland was anything but green, it seemed.

Maybe that's why the Vikings called it that - to freak the living fuck out of any sort of enemy that was bound to come this way and make them mistake what was actually a stupid ice block for well - 'green land'.

The landing had been less that superb and Captain Faulkner had dismissed them all to the bar to the left of the tarmac for the rest of the evening off.

Birdie Faulkner was everything, including a realist, and she seemed to understand that the rather harrowing conditions of their landing was something that required at least a drink or two before bedding down for the night.

With a half-finished beer, Carrie was sure that she could've fallen asleep in that very chair for the time being, but she had to present herself a best she could. With the newest B-17 group collected, Silver Bullets was formulated and crafted by that oh-so-brilliant mind of Birdie Faulkner, and they all had her to thank. And Carrie had to look a bit more put-together than usual - prove she's not just a wash-out bombardier with lackluster experience. That she deserved the spot in Silver Bullets more than anyone else.

"So?" a voice came from her right, settling into the other plush, leather seat at her side, the smiling face of Bessie Carlisle appearing as she popped open her own beer bottle, "Greenland, huh?" Carrie smirked and rolled her shoulders and glanced around.

"It's cozy, really," Carrie offered, "I'm considering taking a swim in the river, suntanning-"

"Okay, smart ass," Bessie said with a chuckle, her boot nudging her own foot, "can't say I'm complaining. Finally out of those training cycles, working towards the war. Maybe, we'll actually put ourselves to use instead of waiting just to go on a practice run." Carrie watched Bessie and then smiled widely.

"Love it so much that I may tell my future husband that 'Hey, we're moving to Greenland!', pack up the truck, babe, forget Brooklyn, home is where the grass is a solid as a fucking rock," Carrie said, sipping her beer, "not to mention the weather. I love to freeze."

"Someone's happy." a new voice chimed in, as Francis settled into a chair opposite them, sucking down a portion of her beer and grinning, "I've never seen you so enthusiastic about something." Carrie deadpanned.

"I'm really jumping for joy over here, Monty." Carrie told Francis, raising her glass of beer up in mock ceremony, "You know me so well." Francis and Bessie burst out into laughter as Carrie leaned back in her chair with a sigh and looked towards the ceiling.

"When the hell are we going to England?" Carrie asked, counting the flecks of rotting wood in the wooden ceiling, her eyes tracing the pieces that stuck out of the ceiling panels before losing her spot and recounting, "If I could just get another beer started, I'd be ready by tonight to head out. No pit-stops for me, I'm just fine with a beer stop and then jetting off to England and calling it a day."

"I wish I had the same energy towards that, Bergie, I really do," Bessie said, "afraid to say I'd ask for a few hours of sleep thought over that."

"Sleeps overrated half the time!" Carrie admonished still staring up at the ceiling, "How you gonna get a thing done when sleep's-"

"Exactly what you need." Carrie blinked a few times and into focus above her head came James Douglass - fellow bombardier, with whom Bessie had introduced on one of Carrie's first days after her transfer on base.

Carrie remembered first time seeing him coming towards them, with that carpet on his face he called a mustache, a sharp smirk, a rather loud, somewhat obnoxious voice, a quick hand-shaking, before he was wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pointing out to various areas along the base like they'd been friends for years - something that had caught her completely off guard. And ever since then, with their few chance meetings, they'd been nothing but a trifle of teasing jabs and somewhat good-natured fun.

Key word: somewhat.

Because she could never actually read James Douglass unlike Benny DeMarco or Hambone Hamilton who were just about as sweet to her as her grandma's hotcakes. He'd see her and beeline, make a few jokes, flirt shamelessly, and then go dance with the next girl who'd take his hand. He was quite the character and Carrie usually didn't engage in much conversation past when he'd come to seek her out.

Except now, he was hung above her like a hyperactive golden retriever, like the dog, Kering, that had lived down the street from the Achterberg's in Brooklyn all her life. Running out of the Wilkes house anytime the door opened, barking and sniffing and tearing around the neighborhood like a lunatic. Yeah, Kering the golden retriever who looked like he was a lunatic reminded her exactly of James Douglass.

Nice to know home was never far.

"What are you trying to say, huh?" Carrie asked, still slouching in the chair and staring up at him hovering over her. Douglass grinned at her, showing off his pearly whites and that charming look on his face and he let out a chuckle.

"You know, a little sleep never hurt a soul. Only reason we're even alive," Douglass said, reaching forward to rub her shoulder, "makes the brain happy or some shit. Makes people less….cranky."

"You calling me cranky, now?"

"Cranky. Now that's just one of many words-"

"Oh, you little-"

"Alright!" Bessie said standing and shoving Douglass pack from where he currently was occupying Carrie's headspace, "Nice to know some things never change." Carrie glanced at her as she sat up and Bessie raised a brow with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Douglass said from behind Carrie, before he moved around her chair and took the other open seat in the grouping of four, and kicking back to relax. Carrie watched Bessie before looking at Francis, who was rather interested in her cup of beer, before glancing at Douglass, who was already looking at her.

"What?" she murmured, before he made a face and she rolled her eyes.

"How was the flight over, Douglass? Invigorating?" Bessie asked Douglass, with a smile - leave it to Bessie to be sweet as cream on any given occasion.

"You woulda thought Greenland would be, well, fucking green-"

"That's what I said!" Carrie butted in, getting looks from the other three, before settling on Douglass who was watching her, with a mixture of interest and annoyance, but she couldn't seem to decipher the two and sank back in her chair, "Greenland's cold as fuck, not some East Coast paradise I'll give ya that." She heard Douglass chuckle at that as Carrie took in more sips of beer.

"With the way we were flying in, I wasn't even sure we were gonna make it at first, I'll tell you that," Douglass said, "you sit in that nose and you swear to God that you'll smash right into the tarmac. Good ole Ev Blakely don't let that sorta stuff happen though."

"Yeah, a real crap shoot." Carrie muttered, "Thought Birdie was gonna bring us in sideways." Douglass raised a brow as he sipped his beer.

"Guess you can say they lied about the fucking weather, too," Douglass offered, "really nice place here. Could barely move my fingers and toes when I actually stood up fully." Bessie let out a chuckle and started sipping her beer again as Carrie narrowed her eyes at her.

"Hey, they're putting on some music to dance, y'all wanna come?" Judy Rybinski's joyfully said as she appeared behind Francis, "C'mon Bessie, I know that look anywhere, you wanna!"

"You know me too well, Jude," Bessie said, getting to her feet and finishing off her beer.

"I'm coming with! No shot I'm missing a chance at good music and good company." Francis said getting to her feet, "The company part may be a stretch-"

"Oh c'mon!" Judy said, taking Francis' hand before looking at Carrie and Douglass unmoved in their chairs, "You two coming?"

"I'm going to continue working on these beers, Jude, but I appreciate it," Carrie said, "Greenland's officially fucked me up." Judy let out a chuckle.

"You enjoy that then, Bergie," Judy said before looking at Douglass, "Dougie?" Carrie glanced sideways at Douglass who sat quietly, before glancing over at Carrie and then Judy again.

"Maybe next time," he said with a nod, "I promise you a dance, got it?"

"Sounds good! Don't have too much fun!" Judy called before she disappeared and some Artie Shaw began playing over the speakers.

"Good to know we have one thing in common, Bergie." Carrie slowly looked over at Douglass, that annoying nickname rolling off his lips like it had before, "We both hate Greenland." And he grinned at her and couldn't help but smirk back.

"First off, don't call me that. Second, you might be right about that," Carrie said, sipping her beer again, "you know that it's called Greenland because of the Vikings?" Douglass let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Nah, you're fucking with me," he said, "the Vikings? The guys with the horns on their heads?"

"I'm not kidding," Carrie said sitting up and fully meeting his gaze for the first time since he had hung overtop her, "I swear to you, they did it. Tricking their enemies. For the sake of how much can they fuck a person in the head." Douglass watched her for a moment, before letting out a laugh and sipping his beer again, before smirking.

"Maybe they were just being smart," Douglass countered, "before they knew that it was just one sheet of ice for miles on end. Then they realized what a shitty name Greenland was." Carrie stared at him for a moment, before smiling slightly, unable to hold back her grin.

"You really know how to get under my skin, don't ya?"

"Guess you could say I know what makes you tick."

"Oh so now you suddenly know everything about me, huh?" Carrie said, leaning over to give his shoulder a playful shove, "Well, go on, what's my favorite color?" She watched him and noticed him glance at her lips - surprisingly - before moving back to her eyes.

"I don't know….blue probably." Carrie watched him and stilled for a moment.

"Uh….yeah, actually." she said quickly, and forced down the way her cheeks flamed (and for what she didn't know), "Alright, well, where do I come from?"

"Brooklyn." Douglass said, laughing at the look on her face, "Look, sweetheart, that New York accent ain't just a voice with Southern twang. I know if I was walking down the streets, and I heard your voice, it'd be you."

"God, what the hell." murmured Carrie as Douglass chuckled, "You won't get this - school subject." Douglass looked at her and then smirked before leaning forward.

"Something with math, right?" he asked her confidently, "You don't just get interested in this sorta shit without having some interest there." Carrie watched him and tilted her head.

"Are you mind-fucking me or something?" she asked him, "How the hell-"

"Just good at reading people I guess." Douglass said with a smirk, "Contrary to popular belief, Bergie, I usually know what I'm talking about. There's a reason I'm a bombardier and not just some journalist or something." She watched him and licked her lips.

"Is that why you joined?" she asked him, "The Air Force? Flying in B-17s?" Douglass glanced at her and nodded.

"Had to join the fight somehow, couldn't just sit back and let the fucking Nazis think they could walk all over us," Douglass said, finishing his beer, "that sorta stuff just don't fly around here. Well, except us. We fly." The two burst out into laughter, before they both died down and looked to one another. For a moment, they were quiet regarding one another with somewhat hesitant gazes as Carrie finished off her beer.

"Well, I'm gonna head-"

"Did you wanna-"

They both watched each other, before breaking out into laughter and righting themselves.

"You go." Douglass said.

"I was gonna head out. Get some rest. Pretty tired." she said quickly, her heart racing as she smiled at him with a nod, "You?" Douglass stared at her and for the first time, she saw the sudden shyness in his gaze as he glanced away from her and then back.

"Just…was gonna get another drink, but you head out, get some rest," he said, before smirking at her, "you need it."

"Oh, you asshole." grumbled Carrie knocking his shoulder before standing to her feet, Douglass following suit. The stood there for a moment, looking at one another - usually, if this were a Silver Bullets girl, she'd give them a hug, but with Douglass, she felt frozen in place. She stuck out her hand instead, to shake, and he shook her hand, and she felt more awkward than ever before, as she shook back. His handshake was firm though, and confident and suddenly made her feel like some 16-year-old girl in high school and balked.

"Well, I'll see you around." she said, stumbling back a bit, "Night!" And she disappeared quickly - like she always did. She found the barracks, promptly settled into bed, and then stared at the ceiling, counting the dried pieces of wood hanging from the panels again.

And she replayed the look in James Douglass' eyes - over and over.

And for the first time in years, all she could think about was James Douglass' eyes that had watched her like that, as she tried to fall asleep.

To say the least, it was the best sleep in months.

#carrie you are a national treasure never change #carrie x dougie #carrie achterberg #james douglass #bessie carlisle #francis montez #judy rybinski #birdie faulkner #(cpt faulkner with her own tag HOORAY!!!!) #pre-annie bradshaw era though so :'( #this was FUN!!!! #carrie and dougie DO have common ground!!! disliking GREENLAND LMFAOOO #carrie is a history nerd when it comes to vikings yes #she is obsessed #she just doesnt like greenland lmao #dougie was going to ask her to dance (sobs) #its ok #its fine #THEM #THEM THEM THEM #THANK YOU AGAIN!!! <3333333 #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #james douglass x oc

[youssefguedira]

the thing is you start out making jokes about diabolik just being a silly little guy with 1 facial expression and 0 emotions and then months later here you are having genuine emotions about diabolik's backstory

#the thing about house of stone is. thats just a child. and i do want to cry about it thanks #everything about that fic i largely made up but like! thats a child. and they didnt even name him he doesnt have a name. #n like. do you ever wonder what you could've been if you'd been found by anyone else. or if the ship had never been wrecked. #did you ever dream of being someone or something else. how old were you when you realised that wasn't going to happen #like i dont think he doesnt LIKE being a thief. this isnt a wah my parents pressured me into this kind of thing #he's good at it. he wouldn't want to do anything else. but how much of that is genuine on his part and how much is because he was never #raised to be anything else. if you never had another option was it really a choice. same with his general solitude i think #like yes he kills people he works with n he does have meaningful relationships before eva but none of them are as his whole self #neon has thoughts #anyway when i finally finish my actual long-ish diabolik fic. well #n part 2 house of stone. theres so much to unpack there

[straawberries]

gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach

teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can

HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE

heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.

ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.

by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.

on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.

i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.

C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga

P*YP*L - @delilahkill

plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)

i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)

i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)

im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.

#undertale #pixel art #performing art #trans #autistic #actually autistic #urgent #help needed #please boost #mutual aid

[karniss-bg3]

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #drider #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #drow #early morning ramblings #this entire post was the long way of saying “I can fix him” #no judgement to the ones who want an ass full of web #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #my writing

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲)

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: the line between lust and hate is awfully slim between theo and you, resulting in something that changes everything between the two of you

warnings: (like massive) spoilers for the great gatsby, mentions of sex, cursing, let me know if i missed anything else

notes: i’m just gonna quickly leave this here hehe

previous part | masterlist | next part

monday felt like you had woken up in a different world. cursed legacy had made it their personal task to spend their time with you, much to yours and theo’s dismay.

they treated you like you were their friend again and while you had to admit that you didn't hate that, you still hated theo and being their friend meant being in his presence the entire time.

it started during math-, when enzo and mattheo decided to sit down in between april and you. leaving no other option but for their friends to follow behind them,- and reached it’s peak during english.

it was the only class that mattered to you, like really mattered to you. you knew it did to theo too, so you couldn’t understand how he had to ruin everything. atleast all had gone great, until the end. then all hell had broken loose.

"okay, we don't have too much time left" mrs walker said with a look to the clock "but i do have one last question: do you think daisy and mr gatsby should've ended up together?"

you raised your hand and mrs walker nodded. "yes, y/n?"

"i don't think so" you said honestly "i don't think they should've been involved with each other in the first place. i get that she had a shitty husband and she should've definitely left him, but she was at fault for everything that went wrong in gatsby's life and her loved her too much to realize that"

"thank you" mrs walker nodded before she gave the word to theo.

you turned your head in surprise. you hadn't even noticed him raising his hand. honstely, you had thought that he didn't even read the book in the first place.

"i disagree" he said.

"what a wonder" you muttered under you breath.

"daisy was everything he always wanted. she was the green light at the end of the peer and he might've been blinded by love, but isn't that what love is about? being so blinded that you would do anything for your person?"

you raised your eyebrows and send a look in theo's direction. you noticed that draco was wearing a similiar look as his eyes glided back and fourth between theo and the book in his hands, probably wondering if they had read the same story.

"sorry" you raised your arm "you could be right, but your're not"

mattheo beside you snorted.

"gatsby threw everything away for a woman that loved him for a short while before she went back to another man. he could've easily found someone better"

"maybe he didn't want to" theo was talking to you directly now "maybe it was enough for him to love her from afar"

"then he could've stayed on his fucking side of the lake" you argued "instead he threw these gigantic parties, just hoping for one single person to show up. is that what it is to you? having an unhealthy obsession with something that could lead to your death and calling it love?"

theo's chair scrapped over the floor when he stood up. you could see the anger in his eyes and stood up from your chair as well.

"you don't know what you're talking about" theo was not far from screaming "he loved her because she wasn't easy. he loved because being with her meant not knowing what's to come, because being with her meant to never grow bored"

"that's what you took from this story?" you laughed in disbelief "did we read the same book?" you caught blaise and draco hecticly turning pages as if they were asking themselves the same thing. enzo and april exchanged glances and the smirk on mattheo's face died.

"because i read a book in which a foolish man spends his entire time obsessing over a woman who doesn't love him, atleast not as much as he loves her and later he dies, because he wants to save her and she doesn't even bat an eye, before she goes back to her husband"

"she had no other choice" theo screamed.

"she had plenty of choices, theo" you screamed back.

"stop! the both of you!" mrs walker screamed.

all eyes turned to her. theo and you sank down in your seats defeated.

"both of you, detention" mrs walker said, right before the bell rang out.

you sighed as you packed up your things and grabbed the detention slip from her, before you left the room.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

detention was not the kind of activity you would normally choose to do during your day, but here you were, holding a cleaning cloth and a bucket, while theo was holding the broom. you were standing in one of the classrooms, that hadn’t been used for these past few years.

"alright" mr platt clapped his hands. he was a bit too excited about your detention, particulary because he had a one sided feud with theo, who was always a bit too sassy in the janitors eyes. "you're gonna clean this entire room. you have two hours-" he was interrupted by his ringing phone, which he picked up as he walked away from the both of you.

"this is all your fault" you whispered.

theo huffed. “that’s rich”

“is it?” you wondered “because it’s always you that has to ruin everything”

“calm down, pixie” theo shook his head “i thought you were smarter than this”

“i have to admit i thought you were too, but then you proved me wrong in english and here we are”

“shut the fuck-“

mr platt turned back around and both you and theo put on an innocent smile.

“i have to get a few things for the school banket next week. do you think you’ll be fine on your own?” he looked more in your direction than in theo’s.

“of course, don’t worry, mr platt” you smiled and the janitor nodded relieved.

“alright, i will be back in two hours” he walked out of the room and theo turned his head to you.

“don’t worry, mr platt” he mocked in a high pitched voice. you rolled your eyes, before you slapped him with your cloth.

“come on, just start sweeping already”

to your annoyance and ultimately not to your surprise, theo sat down on one of the tables. “i’m not cleaning anything”

“mr platt just said—“

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, pixie” he smiled “but i don’t really listen to the things mr pratt says”

you were ready to start fighting, until you remembered how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. this was your first detention and you would make sure that it would also stay the last.

you mindlessly started cleaning the tables around the room. when you were done with that, you filled the bucket with fresh water and cleaned the cloth in the sink until it was spotless again. then you walked across the room to take the broom.

"what are you doing?" theo pulled the broom away from you, when you tried to grab it.

"i'm doing what you should've done" you crossed your arms "i'm not gonna get in more trouble, because of you"

"i'm not giving it to you" theo said and you raised your brows.

"why do you even care? you're not gonna do it? okay, fine" you shrugged "but someone has to"

"it's not your fucking problem, pixie" theo pulled the broom further back "you did your task"

"why are you always so stubborn?" you tried to reach around him, but he pushed you back with his other hand "just give it to me"

"no" the bratty smile on his face made your blood boil.

in a few seconds of uncontrollable anger, you took the bucket, ready to drench him in the cold water you had just filled it up with. "give me the broom" you said once again, as if to give him a last chance.

"you wouldn't dare"

"oh i would" you nodded.

theo stayed unmoving and you raised the bucket from the ground, so that it was now hanging in the air between you. but theo was faster than you. he let go of the broom (which fell to the ground with a thud) before he ripped the bucket out of your hands, making water slip over the edge and directly onto your shirt.

"you fucking idiot!" you screamed, and turned away from the boy, once theo had put the bucket down on the table behind him.

"i actually did not mean to do that" he laughed "but it's pretty fucking funny"

"shut up" you started patting your chest with the cloth in an attempt to dry the water stain on your shirt. you did only make it worse.

you could hear theo giggle behind your back and swerved around, before you threw the cloth in his face. he was not as happy anymore when he took the cloth off his face and let it fall to the ground.

"what did you just do?"

you shrugged your shoulders "not like you didn't deserve that"

he stepped slowly closer "repeat that. i dare you"

you stepped back and he followed. your back hit the wall and he came closer.

"you deserved that" you muttered as you looked up at him. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and thought about just pushing him back and slipping away, but you honestly doubted that you were stronger than him.

"you're very brave sweetheart" he smiled sarcastically.

you laughed humorless. "i fucking hate you"

theo smiled and the eye contact intensified.

"looks like you're having the hots for me now"

"fuck you, theo"

your breath hitched when he quickly pushed his lips against yours. it took you a second, but then you pulled him closer by his shirt, deepening the kiss.

theo's lips brushed against yours and you melted into his kiss, surrendering to the passion that consumed you both.

the kiss was like a storm, fierce and consuming, yet filled with a tenderness that left you breathless.

you had only kissed him once before, back when you were children. back when kissing was something disgusting and didn't make you feel the things you were feeling right now.

you whimpered when he pulled your head to the side with his hand and started kissing your neck.

"i loathe you" he muttered between kisses "but you look so fucking hot in that wet shirt"

you smiled triumphantly and saw your opportunity to push him backwards, away from the wall and to the teachers table. you connected your lips again, as you turned around and climbed on to the table. he stepped between your opened legs and rested his hands on your thighs as he moaned.

you gripped the hem of his shirt, he stepped back and helped you to pull it off, before you repeated the same process with your shirt. your hands pressed to his chest, while he kissed you and unhooked your bra.

you weren't proud of the things that happened next. and especially not of where it had happened.

when it was over, theo looked almost as regretful as you did.

"this was a mistake" you muttered, as he pulled down your shirt and gently fixed your hair. you weren't used to this side of him, not anymore. but even if you said the exact opposite, your were yearning for him.

"yeah" he nodded and then he frowned "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-"

"-no, it's alright" you shook your head. this was worse than before, it was uncomfortable and awkward. you would've preferred him yelling at you, but the room grew silent as neither o you said a word.

"we can never do this again" he whispered, but it sounded more like he was telling it to himself.

"i know"

"and we can't tell anyone about this"

"i know"

"we're not good for each other" he said finally.

you wanted to say something, anything. it was like everything between you had just died with a simple touch. you almost missed the tension, because now there was just nothing. you tried to reach for his arm, but before you could do or say anything else, the door opened and theo stepped back from you.

"looks alright" mr platt nodded, once he had given the room a look. "you can go" he held the door open so you could walk through.

"bye" you said and mr platt nodded. "theo" you called, but the boy only quickened his step and left you standing alone in the entryhall of the school.

you sighed, before you decided that theo was right, you should just forget about everything that had happened. your relationship with him had not been anything else than hate lately and you had to admit he was right, it would never work, you weren't good for each other.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

the shift in atmosphere did not go unnoticed by april or the rest of the boys. atleast not until the next saturday when she was spending the day with enzo and matt, chilling in their parent's basement before they head to the rehearsal later.

"have you noticed that theo and y/n have been acting weird lately?" april asked "i mean y/n's been totally denying it, but it's weird right?"

"for sure" mattheo nodded with big eyes "i'm glad you said something, i was dying to ask you"

"isn't that kind of normal?" enzo wondered "i mean for them to be weird?"

"you're not getting it the way we are!" mattheo criticized.

"okay, sorry" enzo raised his hands laughing until mattheo and april send him a look.

"i honestly always thought they would end up together" april admitted "and of course i hated the way their friendship evolved to constantly fighting with each other, but at least that was something. now they aren't even talking to each other"

"right?" mattheo pointed at the red-head "i always thought they were in love with each other, but then she dated that scumbag and leo, well" he left the sentence unfinished and the mood shifted.

"i thought the same" april patted mattheos shoulder. “i think what they have yet to realize is that everything that is between them is not hate, it’s sadness”

mattheo nodded and april could see that he was getting sad too. they both felt helpless, like they couldn’t do what they were supposed to do as best friends to theo and you.

all while enzo found it a bit weird how serious mattheo and april were talking about your relationship with theo. it didn't even concern them, yet they were so... concerned.

"it's not really our problem is it?" enzo tried gently.

the looks he received made him shut up immediately.

"they belong together, enz" his brother exclaimed with a roll of his eyes "they just don't know it yet"

"yeah" april nodded "that's what they have us for" she pointed between her and mattheo.

"but you still like me more than him, right?" enzo joked.

april and mattheo started laughing and enzo joined in hesitantly. "not right now, though"

enzo's laughter died down as he send his soon-to-be-girlfriend a betrayed look.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

when the three arrived at the rehearsal, theo and you were already there, setting up the instrument and sorting notes.

"woah" blaise said when he and draco entered the garage after mattheo, april and enzo. "it's cold in here"

you send him an aggravated look, before you just rolled your eyes and continued to turn the pages of your notes.

"did something happen?" draco whispered in the direction of april.

the girl shook her head, before mattheo took it upon himself to inform draco about the newest form of relationship between theo and you.

"haven't you noticed?" he muttered not exactly quiet, but you acted like you couldn't hear him. "they've been acting like this all week"

"really?" blaise asked surprised, before he thought for a second "wait, no, now that you say it, it has been a really peaceful week." his eyes fell upon you "too peaceful"

"hey, y/n" draco called and you looked up "i think theo put down the wrong cable for you again"

"oh" you looked down to confirm that he was right "that not a problem, i'll just quickly change it" you walked around theo, without even acknowledging him and draco looked like he had lost his mind.

april elbowed enzo, who shrieked, but then quickly caught the hint. "theo, ehh" he thought for a second "did you talk to y/n about those notes she needs to play differently in cheap wine?"

theo shook his head, before he turned around to look at you. "you have to play two c-chords and then the a-chord"

"got it" you nodded.

enzo and april exchanged a look. enzo looked to his older brother helplessly, who looked as lost as he rest of his friends. he had no idea what else to say, before it quickly dawned on him. he had to force a reaction out of theo and what better way to do that than compliment you? an insult from theo wouldn't be far.

"you look really good today" mattheo said "i like the way you styles your hair"

"thank you" you smiled.

"theo?" blaise asked as the boy didn't react.

"huh?" theo looked up from the cables he had been sorting "eh, yeah i agree"

both you and theo returned to your respective work while the rest of your friends exchanged looks without you noticing.

"theo, i said y/n looks good today"

"i'm aware" theo nodded "i can hear you, you know?"

"we would love to hear your input" mattheo further encouraged.

"you're acting fucking weird today" and to all their shock, you and theo were now exchanging glances as if they were the ones behaving weirdly.

blaise huffed and mattheo and april crossed their arms silmutaneously.

draco seemed to have had enough of the way you were acting. "stop fucking acting this way! can't you just make up or something? or at least get back to hating each other?" he was close to tears.

blaise rubbed draco's shoulder. "see, what you're doing to him. his parents are divorced"

"okay?" you asked confused "i don't see what that has to do with us, though"

"what's going on?" april asked gently "did something happen? you had this until someone cries mentally, well, did someone cry?"

"no" you shook your head "theo and i are just mature enough, that we decided to stop fighting"

"bullshit" draco screamed from blaise's arms. "you're always fighting, even before you hated each other."

you looked in the direction of theo and thought about what he had said to you in that classroom. he had been right, you weren't good to each other, even before you had been at each other's throats constantly. all of it had been so obvious that even your friends had noticed it.

"would you rather have us fighting again?" theo asked with raised brows "we were going nowhere with this"

"you're not even talking to each other" mattheo muttered.

"we are" you shook your head as if you couldn't believe what he was saying "we just did it like a minute ago"

"can we please start rehearsing now?" theo asked and all of you could feel the annoyance radiating off his body. the boys nodded, giving in without further discussion.

you could still feel april's eyes lingering on you. she didn't believe a word you had said.

even if you tried to ignore it, what your friends had said stuck with you. you knew that theo was thinking about it too.

after the rehearsal you stayed longer.

"we have to stop acting his way" you said as soon as the two of you were alone. "they will find out if we don't"

"i know" theo sighed and it was the biggest reaction you had gotten from him all week. it kind of pained you to admit that you missed your fighting, but something in you clearly did.

"can't you just fight with me? just do something so we go back to normal"

"i can't" theo admitted "i can still scream at you, after-"

"after we had sex" you interrupted. he had been dancing around what happened all week, you were tired of not calling it what it was.

"it should've never happened"

"i know!" you said loudly "and i agree, but this is not the solution we need. we can't go back in time, theo, we can do nothing to change it."

"yeah, but i can do as much as possible to make sure it won't ever happen again"

"why are you so bothered by all of this?" you asked frustrated "it was just sex, it was a one time thing, what makes it different? it's just like any other one night stand"

"no it's not"

"then tell me what it is!" you were screaming now "because i'm tired of playing a game i don't want to be a part of! you confuse me"

"can i kiss you?" theo asked and you had almost screamed from shock.

"what?" you asked instead. "theo!"

"i'm- sorry, i just-"

"okay, kiss me" he did not wait for you to tell him twice, before he had already walked closer and pressed his lips against yours.

you really had to stop doing this. well, after this time.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

you continued to come to the rehearsal three times a week over the following weeks. the more time you spent in the old loft, the more it felt like everything was slowly going back to normal.

your friends couldn't explain what had happened, but theo and you had started interacting normally again, having your occasional fight, but being friendlier than ever.

even if they found it weird, they accepted it. they were just happy you were talking to each other again.

april had tried to find out what had been going and between you and the boy, but you had stayed strong, not revealing your secret to her, even if she was your best friend.

you were joking with the boys, the forced friendly gestures you used to exchange were long gone and it was no longer uncomfortable to just sit around when you were taking a break.

mattheo told stories of enzo and their vacation in spain, how they had gone snorkeling and how enzo had lost his trunks in the water, making all of you break out into loud laughter.

each of you shared memories of a time where you had not spoken to the others, as if you had to catch up. and it felt good.

even theo had to admit it did. it had been easier than he thought to be civil. he had been sure he was having a stroke, but as soon as he started to act nice, you did too and after everything that had happened between you both these past few days he was honestly just glad.

it was another saturday when you were once again rehearsing. you had gone through the entire setlist (except for daddy issues, theo had said that it was way too slow to play) and now only had to play eight pack of cigarettes, which was one of your favorite tracks to play, especially because it had a guitar solo in it.

you had spent much time learning the solo and enzo had been of great help, teaching you like a proud parent, even if he was younger than you.

the song began slow, theo started singing as the guitar played slow, while the other instruments stayed silent.

in the glow of street lights, underneath the city's haze, you found me in the darkest nights, lost in a nicotine haze.

the drums set in just a second after, making the heavy rock of the song shine through clearly. shortly after that followed mattheo, strumming the bass. draco only joined at the chorus.

eight packs of cigarettes, burned through these lonely nights, trying to drown out regrets, but you're still in my head.

the solo came just after the brige and both enzo and april watches excitedly how you plaed it so effortlessly. theo watched you and he couldn't help the proud smile settling on his face.

in the haze of smoke and dreams, i'll keep searching for some reprieve, but until then, I'll keep the smoke, eight packs of cigarettes full of hope.

the song ended with the last note of draco's keyboard. you admired how they could go from a full on rock song, to a slow and almost sad outro.

you helped theo to unplug the instruments. draco and blaise said their goodbyes pretty soon, walking out of the garage mumbling something about a new videogame, mattheo was close behind them.

enzo and april exchanged a look, before he threw his not broken arm around her shoulder.

"we're going to the cinema" enzo exclaimed when he noticed your questioning gaze.

"okay" you smiled as you send april a look. 'call me later' you mouthed, before you watched them walk out to april's car.

"y/n" theo said to gain your attention "thank you for helping us, really, i appreciate it"

"it's not a problem" you smiled "just, why did you ask me? i know that you can play, you didn't need me"

"you're way better" he smiled "my heart also belongs to the acoustic guitar and it's way more fun to move freely on stage"

you rolled your eyes laughing at his dumb reasons, but nodded understandingly anyway. "can i also ask you something?"

theo raised his brows "sure"

"did you write daddy issues to hurt me?"

"i understand why you might think i did" theo muttered "but back then, no" he admitted "i wrote it for you to listen to whenever you felt like that. i thought about not putting it on the album after everything that happened, but i wrote it for both of you and leo had made me promise"

"typical" you laughed "he demands something and once he leaves everything goes to shit"

"i'm sorry i made you play it" theo muttered.

"it's alright" you took the acoustic guitar from the couch and held it in his direction. "can you do something else for me? could you play it for me? the way you intended it to be played?"

he nodded and took the guitar from your hand before he sat down across from you. he softly stroked the chords and the words that were coming out of his mouth didn't feel like they were supposed to hurt you, they felt gentle, like a hug.

gentle, like the days you had spent up in the treehouse, crying in his lap as he stroked your hair the same way he was now stroking the chords.

go ahead and cry, little girl nobody does it like you do i know how much it matters to you i know that you got daddy issues and if you were my little girl i'd do whatever I could do i'd run away and hide with you i know that you got daddy issues

he played softly, almost cautious, as if he wanted to fix you with his singing alone. he ended the song and you couldn't help but smile at him, even if tears were running over yours cheeks. he put the guitar down and sat next to you on the couch.

"why did you ask me to do that?"

"because i don't want to think of the song as something bad…not anymore" you explained as you wiped your tears away. "not when leo didn't intend it to be"

"he loved it" theo said softly "made him cry like a baby"

"because you're so good at writing" you laughed.

"no" theo shook his head "he cried because of you, because i think for the first time he could really understand how you felt"

"thank you" you said.

"nothing to thank me for" theo smiled softly.

"do you want to hear a secret?" you asked. you knew not everything between you was normal again, but you trusted him enough and right now, there in the garage, was a time where safety was all around you.

"sure" theo nodded and watched you expectingly. you turned your head to look at him.

"i haven't spoken to my dad in a year" you admitted.

"oh" theo breathed surprised. "why not?"

"i don't really know" you shrugged, it wasn't the whole truth, but you were not at the point of telling whole truths yet "but i think it's alright, i don't think there's anything we could still say to each other"

"i'm sorry"

you shrugged "it is what it is, right?" you tried to smile, but theo shook his head.

"it shouldn't be like this"

"it's not like i can miss anything" you shrugged and theo frowned.

"it's just unfair. i'm sorry, y/n"

"where did pixie go?"

"i thought you hated when i called you that"

"i did" you smiled lopsided "but now i kinda miss her"

"do you ever know what you want?" theo laughed and you shrugged, while you shook your head. he looked at his phone, to check the time. "are you free tonight?"

"sure, why?"

"a friend of mine is throwing a party and his band is playing, i promised to come, do you maybe want to accompany me?"

you shrugged "it's not like i have anything better to do, so why not?"

"i feel honored that you spend time with me nonetheless, pixie" theo smiled and you mirrored his expression. for the first time in a while his nickname for you did not sound malicious.

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[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: none, fluff

~ Been thinking about Eddie as a fire fighter after watching 9-1-1

Not proofread

Eddie never had any real desire to get into this type of profession. The thought never even crossed his mind. After he got into some trouble with police. the judge gave him two options to pick from, which were. Spend a few months behind bars or community service.

After a while, he ended up failing in love with it. He very much liked uniform and riding around in that big truck. He loved helping people. He figured out that was his true calling. He's been caught in some very life-threatening situations. For the part most, he's getting calls for various things. Usually, they're just false alarms, or some kid got their head stuck in something.

Eddie's saved cats from trees and families from their burning homes. Every day, he goes home smelling like smoke. Eddie wouldn't trade this life for anything else. Not to mention, most of the town laid off his ass too. That was a big plus. No more harassment or being threatened.

His department got a call like normal early that morning. For a small house fire that got a little out of control. Eddie rushed with the rest of his squad and got his uniform on, hopping in the truck.

By the time they got their the fire was pretty much put out thanks to you. Your neighbor was in her eighties, and her cat had knocked her candle off the table. The fire lit up her shaggy curtains in an instant.

The entire squad rushed into her apartment anyway to inspect everything just to make sure it was safe. Eddie went in but came back out to talk to you.

"You put out the fire?" He walked up, taking his helmet off. His uniform stained in old soot. E. Munson was patched on his jacket at the bottom.

You had just helped the paramedics take away your neighbor. She had asked you to watch over her cat for the night. Which you happily agreed to.

You turn around. "Oh, uhh yeah, I did-."

"That could have gotten real ugly next time. Just leave and let us handle it." He walked a little closer. His tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't too friendly at first either.

You nodded, knowing he was right after all. That fire could have gotten really bad very fast. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck."So you live here long?" Eddie's tone changed to more a friendly one.

His eyes squinted a little as the sun beamed down on him.

You smile and begin to walk away, "Two years."

"Two years? Wow, we get calls here all the time, and this is my first time seeing you." He recalled raising his eyebrows.

Eddie has been called to this apartment building more than he can recall. He knows the people and the building like the back of his hand. One time, it was for a kid who stuck marbles up his nose. The others were for little none dangerous things. But he definitely should have remembered a face like yours by now.

You slowly side by side, "good or bad?"

He stopped walking, and a smirk played on his lips, "I guess in this type of circumstance good."

"So I should start calling for any tiny minor inconvenience?" You turned to face him.

He was about to say something else but was cut off when another fireman yelled for him. "Eddie! It's all clear!"

You watched him throw a thumbs up and look back at you. The sun, his eyes, made his brown eyes almost glow. His hair was tied in a low bun, and he had slight stumble. You noticed a tattoo on his neck peaking out from the collar of his jacket.

He chuckled and went back to your conversation, "If I got to see that pretty face, I think I can let it slide."

Your felt your face get hot, and you cleared your throat. "I bet you would."

Eddie looked down at his hands, taking his gloves off, revealing a few fades scars more tattoos. His voice got a little low, "are you by chance single?"

"I am." You eyed him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Jus' wanted to go on one little date." He shrugged.

"Only one?" You questioned. You didn't want to sound offended, but why one date?

"Oh yeah, only need one to convince you in seeing me again." He kept his tone playful and light-hearted.

Eddie can tell he probably insulted you. He definitely didn't want to do that. He was just trying to be flirty.

"You think you can win me over with one little date?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

He stepped closer to you. "Oh, absolutely." His demeanor full of confidence. he was so sure he could woo you into as many dates as you wanted.

"Fine, we'll see if you're right then, Eddie." You bit your cheek trying not to laugh. You took what he said as a challenge. You also won't deny you did like him. You only met him an hour ago. For such short interaction, you felt drawn to him. He this twinkle in his eye that made you want to get to know him.

You and Eddie exchange numbers before you watched him hop back into that big firetruck parked out. He sat in the front seat with an arm hanging out the window. You couldn't look away. You saw him tip his helmet toward you as they pulled off and back to the station.

You hope your first date goes well because you're already planning the second one.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #firefighter!Eddie #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #scheduled post

[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is a student at UVA when he falls for the most unexpected girl. But she's the one who can see past his scars and the doors he keeps closed.

Warnings: Angst, swears, mention of sex

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley tried to roll over in his bed, but he felt the weight of someone draped across him as he tried to remember how much he drank last night. Probably half a case of beer. He had no idea if he had taken Phoebe or someone else to bed. 

He opened one eye against the bright sunlight and pushed the tall blonde off of him. "Phoebe. Wake up." 

She groaned in response, but her naked body rolled off of his enough that he was able to stand up. He pulled on his underwear and wandered out into the hallway in the direction of music blaring from the front bedroom. 

"Turn it the fuck down!" he yelled as he made his way to the disgusting bathroom he shared with Tyson. He really needed to take some time to clean this place up, but he never let Phoebe stay long after she woke up, and none of the other girls ever complained much. 

Bradley splashed some water on his face, looked in the mirror and grimaced. He ran his fingers along the scars smattering his face and neck. The raised, pink flesh was supposedly going to fade over time, but he wasn't so sure he believed the doctors. It all looked virtually the same now in January as it had in July when the incident happened. 

Regardless, he fucking hated looking in the mirror now. He used the toilet and washed his hands without another glance at himself. 

When he made it back to his room, after a quick detour to turn down the stereo, he found Phoebe was up and out of bed. 

She yawned a few times before she pulled on her shirt and then shimmied into her tiny thong. Bradley knew her body like the back of his hand. They'd been fucking since they were freshmen. Now they were both seniors at the University of Virginia, and they were still regularly fucking. He sometimes even called her when he was lonely. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend he had ever had.

"Where the hell are my jeans?" she asked, looking around his room. He picked them up from the foot of his bed and handed them to her. She mumbled something at him and pulled them on. "Are we partying again tonight?" she asked, kissing his scarred cheek as she reached for her phone. 

Bradley had apparently enjoyed more than her company last night, if the condom wrapper next to the bed had anything to say for itself. But he knew Saturday night at his fraternity house would offer him some more variety. "Not sure yet," he told her as she headed for his bedroom door. "I'll call you later."

Phoebe waved goodbye and left the door open, and he dropped back onto his bed. He had a good view of the exterior of his white bedroom door, which was covered in multicolored sharpie. It was a collection of girls' names and phone numbers, little love notes, and the occasional cluster of hearts. But right in the middle in bold, black writing was where Phoebe had written her name. As if she had the right of first refusal on his dick. 

Bradley's phone was just as bad. His contact list was a collection of first names and phone numbers of girls he could barely remember meeting. And it's not that he wasn't picky, but he just really liked girls. And they all seemed to really like him back. Last weekend he got a blowjob from Janessa and he still ended up with Phoebe in his bed for the night. Being with her was just easy for him. It didn't take any work. When one of them wanted it, the other was there. But the minute he felt like putting in a little effort, he could have pretty much whomever he liked. 

So he'd just keep his options open for the evening, feeling like maybe he'd meet someone brand new. 

-----------------------------------

You were finally able to admit to yourself that you had a small crush on Jeff. He was obviously cute, and he was studying your major and always made Dean's list. He was friendly and funny, and he never picked on you for hanging out in the library so much. You'd started hoping he would ask you out. 

But he was in a fraternity. Major turn off. He invited you to the frat house every weekend, and after weeks of turning him down, you finally agreed to meet him there on Saturday night. His face had lit up with an adorable smile, and he already claimed you as a beer pong partner. But you knew the place would be swarming with girls, ones who were prettier than you, and more outgoing with bigger boobs. 

Maybe if he was still paying attention to you when there was a parade of other girls present, you should just ask him out yourself. After studying in the library all day, you packed up your books and headed home to get changed. 

Janessa was there, fresh out of the shower and putting makeup on in the kitchen where the light was good. "Are you going to the Beta Gamma house tonight?" you asked her, setting your bag down in the tiny living room of your shared apartment. 

"Yes," she replied, swiping on some mascara. "Got my eye on a few of those Beta boys."

You froze and asked, "Which ones?"

She just laughed. "Don't worry, not your buddy Jeff. He's too skinny and blond. I like 'em tall, dark and handsome."

You let out a sigh of relief. No way you could compete with Janessa for Jeff's attention. No way you could compete with her for any guy's attention. Janessa was what every guy would consider hot. She was simply just the definition of the word. 

You, on the other hand, were lucky to get called cute. If someone noticed you, it was probably because there was no better option around. But that was fine with you, because when guys ended up with a crush on you, it was because they actually liked you. 

"I might ask Jeff out after tonight," you told your roommate, who squealed and started doing your makeup as well. 

"You should! Want me to ask one of the other guys if he's interested in you? He's pretty tight with Tyson and Bradley. Maybe we could have a double date!"

"I mean... I guess if it comes up in conversation?" you replied. "But don't embarrass me, please! I'm awkward enough already."

"Hush, you are not awkward. You are adorable. Now stop moving so I can do your eyes." 

And this is how you ended up arriving at the packed Beta house where the music was blaring and there were six kegs lined up. Janessa led you inside, and you immediately caught sight of Jeff, hanging out with some of the other guys and drinking from a red solo cup.

"Hey!" he called out to you. "You made it! I'll get you a beer." Jeff made his way over to you, all smiles. You expected to feel that little jolt go through your system when he touched your arm, but you were so distracted, you barely noticed him. 

Because Janessa was sidling up between two guys, and the one she had just wrapped her arms around was looking right at you. He was tall with wavy brown hair, and he looked like the kind of guy who would be more than happy to get you into a little trouble. 

"You coming?" Jeff asked, reaching for your hand.

"Mmm, oh, yeah. Sorry." It took you a second to realize you were holding hands with him. It honestly didn't feel as special as you thought it would. You wanted to know more about the guy Janessa was with, but you remembered her words from earlier. He must be one of the guys she was interested in. 

Well, fuck. 

So you focused on Jeff instead. You listened to him ramble about some of your professors, and you got in line for the kegs.

-----------------------------------------------

For a split second, Bradley was tempted to flirt with Janessa again. But then he remembered the terrible blowjob she gave him, and decided he'd rather just find Phoebe later. But then he saw who Janessa walked in with, and he thought maybe there was a third option. You were so cute.

But Jeff walked over to you, acting like you and he were a done deal, and Bradley realized you must have been the girl Jeff knew from class, the one he never stopped talking about. 

"Bradley!" Janessa purred as she flung her arms around him. Her outfit was basically nonexistent, and everywhere he tried to put his hands, he seemed to be touching her skin. 

"What's up, Janessa?" he mumbled. 

But you were looking at him. You made solid eye contact and licked your lips before you wandered off, holding hands with Jeff.

"Hey, who is that girl you come here with?" Bradley asked Janessa, keeping his eyes on you until you rounded the corner and vanished from sight. 

"Oh, that's my roommate, Y/N," she replied, kissing his neck. Bradley pulled away from her. He didn't like when anyone touched his scars. Not even Phoebe. "She's super into Jeff. Has he talked about her at all?"

Of course Jeff had talked about you. According to him, you were smart and funny, and now Bradley knew for a fact that you were also pretty hot. But he decided to lie. "Nope. Not that I know of."

Bradley finished his beer and tossed the cup in the trash, heading off in the direction you went with Jeff. Of course Janessa was immediately on Tyson's crotch, but Bradley really didn't give a shit. He finally caught up to you and Jeff outside near the kegs. Jeff was talking nonstop as he pumped the keg of shitty beer and handed you a cup. 

"Come on man, get her a good beer from the fridge inside," Bradley interjected, just as you were about to take a sip. "This stuff is shit." 

You turned to look at him, lowering the red cup from your pouty lips and raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I prefer this shit," you told him with a smirk. You were wearing some makeup, but less than the other girls. Your jeans were snug, but not tight. Your shirt was just short enough that Bradley could see the inch of skin above your jeans, but only when you shrugged your shoulders. 

Fuck. Jeff draped his arm around your shoulders, and for some reason that really irritated Bradley. So he just smirked right back at you and said, "If you prefer that shit, then I can understand why you're hanging out with Jeff tonight instead of me. There's no accounting for taste."

"Hey!" Jeff complained, but Bradley got you to crack a genuine smile. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop from laughing, but your shoulders shook a little bit with amusement. 

You grinned at Bradley and then Jeff as well. "Okay, now I'm a little afraid to admit that I would probably prefer one of the non-shitty beers."

Bradley nodded his head toward the house. "Come with me. I need another one anyway, and then I'll bring you back out to Jeff."

He watched as you extracted yourself from Jeff's arm, which made Bradley smile. He heard you say, "I'll be back," as Bradley guided you inside with his hand gently on your back. 

------------------------------------

You didn't know why you ditched Jeff for this guy you had never met before, but you couldn't seem to help yourself. You didn't even know his name, but you let him lead you back inside the Beta fraternity house, his hand sliding ever lower on your back. 

It was so loud inside, you could feel your whole body vibrating along with the music that was playing. But he kept you moving at a steady pace toward the kitchen where it was a little quieter. 

"Take your pick," he told you when he opened the refrigerator door. Every single shelf was lined with bottles and cans of beer. There were a few bottles of liquor and some different mixers on the door, but you grabbed a bottle of one of your favorite beers and turned to him. 

"Thanks, whatever your name is," you said with another smirk.

"You're welcome, Y/N," he replied, taking the bottle from your hand and opening it with a bottle opener he pulled from a drawer. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked him, slightly surprised. You were not the type of girl who would normally be found here, or at any Greek house on campus. 

He smiled. "You're Janessa's roommate. And Jeff has a crush on you. You're famous by name and reputation."

Your heart was beating faster now as he handed the bottle back to you. His fingertips lingered on yours for a few seconds, and you imagined kissing him. This was the way you expected your body to feel when Jeff touched you, but there was no comparison. 

"Are you planning on telling me your name?" you asked him, taking a sip of beer. 

"Maybe," he replied, selecting a beer of his own. His voice was deep and raspy, and he had a lot of scars on his face and neck. They looked pretty new, but you couldn't help but find them just as attractive as the rest of him. You wanted to touch that long scar that ran along his neck. You wondered what he would do if you did.

"If you won't tell me, then I'll give you a nickname."

He grinned. "This should be good," he said over the loud music. 

You took a long drink of beer and said, "Okay, Beer Boy. How about I head back outside with Jeff where it's quieter? I'll catch you later?"

But he just shook his head. "You want quiet, then you should come upstairs with me. My room is downright peaceful compared to the rest of the house."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You think I was born yesterday, Beer Boy?"

He looked at you, all innocent, wide brown eyes. "No, I would assume you're at least 18 if you're in college. How old are you?"

"I'm 21. But that has nothing to do with the fact that I'm not going upstairs alone with you," you replied.

"We wouldn't be alone," he said, sipping his own beer. "I'm sure Tyson and Janessa are up there doing all sorts of things. But I can take you back outside to your boyfriend if that's what you want."

You rolled your eyes. "Jeff isn't my boyfriend," you told him, raising your voice over the noisy party. You may have been mistaken, but his eyes seemed to light up. 

"Music to my ears," he muttered. "Come upstairs with me. I promise I won't touch you unless you want me to." 

You almost choked on your beer. "You are seriously cocky, Beer Boy."

"You wanna know my name, don't you?" he asked, and you nodded. "Come upstairs with me and I'll tell you."

You eyed him carefully. "And you won't touch me?"

His eyes drifted over your face and down to your chest. "Sadly, no. I won't."

You couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled out of you. This was really quite fun. He was goofy and flirtatious, but he wasn't creeping you out. 

"Okay, but I'm only agreeing so I can learn your name. Then I'm coming right back down here," you told him. 

With a smile, he took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the distressingly loud living room. Two hallways later, he was leading you up the stairs to a much quieter second floor. You were pleased to find several other people were hanging out up here as well. 

"What's your name, Beer Boy?" you asked. He responded by lacing his fingers through yours, and you immediately thought about kissing him again.

He stopped in front of a door covered in writing. "I'm Bradley," he told you, pulling you a little closer with your connected hands. 

"Bradley," you repeated. He nodded at you, looking a little apprehensive.

He nudged the door open with his foot, but you didn't move. You just looked at the writing all over his door. Girly handwriting in every color imaginable adorned the white paint. Tessa, Meg, Julie, Kendra, Ebony, Shannon, Luz, Gabby, Willow. The list went on, and so did the phone numbers and scrawled notes. 

"Don't look at that. Please," he muttered. You saw his Adam's apple bob against his long scar as he swallowed hard. His eyes seemed to be pleading with you, so you looked away from the door and into his bedroom. It was actually pretty tidy, and it was lit by his desk lamp with a US Navy emblem on the side. 

"You said you weren't going to touch me," you told him, and he immediately pulled his hand away from yours. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley said right away, looking completely abashed now. 

"That's okay," you told him as you walked past him into his room. The music was distant enough that you could use your normal voice up here. "Is it cool if I look around?"

--------------------------------------------

He followed you into his room and watched you examining his things. Every few steps, you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyelashes were long, and he loved the curve of your cheek. He was dying to touch your hair, taste your skin and feel you against him. 

Usually he wore his bedroom door like a badge of honor. But when you looked at it, he felt a little embarrassed. Not that you had said anything or looked at him any certain way, but he didn't want you to judge him quite yet. Especially not based on that. 

He took a long drink from his bottle of beer, draining it in the process. He was attracted to you. Like all of you. Jeff had been right; you were funny and smart. But Bradley had no expectations that you would feel the same way about him. However, he would keep you up here as long as you would stay, because somehow he knew, in the back recesses of his mind, that you were giving him an important seal of approval. 

"You have a lot of Navy stuff," you commented, running your fingers along his dad's dog tags.

He nodded when you looked over your shoulder. "I do. It was my dad's."

Bradley wasn't sure if Phoebe even knew his dad had been in the navy. He didn't know why he was telling you. 

"And you have a lot of textbooks," you said as you flipped through his economics notes. 

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that tends to happen when you're a student."

You rolled your eyes. "I just meant that you frat bros don't usually study. I have never once seen you in the library before."

Bradley grinned. "You like to hang out in the library?"

"Yeah. So what?" you asked, seemingly used to getting picked on for it. 

"Hey, just because I don't go to the library, that doesn't mean I don't study. I have a 3.85 GPA."

You turned toward him and nodded like you were impressed. "Wow. But you shouldn't say that too loudly, or you may get kicked out of your fraternity."

Bradley shook his head as you turned toward his bed. He was pretty sure he had never had a girl in his room this long with her clothes still on. He was about to suggest grabbing two more beers when your phone rang. 

"It's Jeff," you said casually, ignoring the call. "I should probably go back down and find him."

Bradley just watched you tuck your phone back into your jeans pocket. You took the last sip of your beer and headed for the door. You eyed the names written there before turning back toward him with a small smile. "Maybe I'll see you around?" you asked. 

"I hope so," he told you as you disappeared into the hallway.

And then you were gone. The apprehension he usually felt was creeping back in now. He wondered what you thought about his scars. He hadn't given them any thought while you'd been with him. He couldn't tell if you were outwardly flirting with him, and he knew there was something between you and Jeff, but Bradley definitely wanted to see you again. 

But now he was alone. And he was lonely. So he called Phoebe. Within a few minutes, she was in his room. And after a few minutes more, she was in his bed.  

-------------------------------------

Eeek, I hope you like this version of our Bradley! A huge thank you to @mak-32 for helping me with this fic! It's for you, Mak!

PART 2

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[doudouneverte]

Unfinished task

a/n: it took me a lot of time to finish it sorry...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Lena Oberdorf x AWFC!Reader; Arsenal WFC x NEDWNT!Reader

Summary: Based on this (requested by anon)

Type: Fluff

Warning: me,tion of heart attack and nothing else (i think)

word count: 4983 (sorry)

----------

2018/19

This season, everything changed for you. To start, you made your first step and scored your first goals in Frauen Bundelsiga for Essen with your best friend Lena Oberdorf. Talking about the German player, you and her were known to be pretty close; your mom raised you alone, and she was not very surprised when you told her that you wanted to play football. Growing up in a family of football fans who had some relatives who played with the legend Johan Cruff helped. You started with a boy team, and that's where you met Lena; she was also a girl, pretty good, and despite her roughness on the pitch, you quickly became friends. She was a solid midfielder when you were a more agile and versatile player.

Life couldn't be better for you, but that's when we're talking about the second reason this season is so special for you. A few weeks before the end of the season, you planned to take a new step in your and Lena's relationship. You started to see her as more than a friend a few months after she assisted one of your goals. But life is not always so simple and so great.

In May, during a training session, the coach told you that your mom had a heart attack at work. Her life wasn't in danger, but they allowed you to leave earlier. At the hospital, the doctor told you that your mom overworked, and this was certainly caused by the stress. Your mom didn't tell you, but you knew she worked more than necessary to be sure she could attend your game without any work left to be able to celebrate with you every time you win.

But the worst happened when the doctor told you that she would need an aldut around to make sure it didn't happen. Another adult—that was the problem. You never really met your father; your mom divorced him when she learned that he cheated on her when she was pregnant. Of course you could call your grandma, but she was in Netherland, and you knew she was a little too old to keep an eye on you and your mom, and then the only available option was your aunt Marina.

After you called your aunt, she immediately booked a flight. You knew that in this situation, you had to do something you would probably regret your whole life. You had a meeting with the coaching staff to ask them something, and just before your last match, you had your response: at the end of the season, after only a few matches, you'd be a free agent and leave the country.

The girls knew nothing about that—well,  maybe just one, but you knew that if you had told her, she would make you doubt, but you couldn't. It was only when you were at the airport that you wished her good luck for the next season and told her about your departure.

2019/20

It's been more than two years since you left Germany. Of course, at first things weren't easy; you spent the first part of the 2019–2020 season literally jobless. You didn't have clubs; you continued to train on your own, but you spent almost all your time helping your aunt at her work. That was like this until you ran into someone you didn't expect to see after all these months: Vivianne Miedema, and she wasn't alone; she was with Jill Roord and Danielle Van De Donk.

Of course you knew who the forward was; she was literally one of your models when you started your career, but what you didn't know was that she knew you. After a few talks, you explained to her why you were not in Germany and, more importantly, why you hadn't played since the start of the season.

They were truly sorry for you and said they wished they could do anything, but you assured them that they couldn't do anything for that and that you would eventually try to found a new club even if you had to spend the rest of the season training by yourself. Apparently they decided to take things in her perfectly because only a few days later you received an unexpected call to let you know that after the three Dutch players talked about you to their head coach, Arsenal was open to giving you a chance, but you'd have to wait until the winter transfer window to offiacilize everything wich you accepted without thinking.

Until then, you continued your routine: help your aunt in her job—well, being not really qualified for it meant you just moved boxes all day, and after that, you spent some time with your mom and sneaked out in the night to train. That was like this until you signed. In Germany, Lena was attracting the interest of a few clubs when she saw the news. She wasn't really attracted to the WSL until then, and honestly, if it weren't for random posts on her Instagram feed, she would surely have missed it.

The midfielder wanted to call you to tell you that she was proud and happy for you that you could play again after what happened, but she knew you wouldn't reply. It was selfish, but since you moved, you gradually stopped speaking to your ex-teammates. At first, you said to yourself that was because you would probably drop the football a few months after you landed in London, but you finally accepted the reality. You didn't want to have anything that reminded you of the incident, but you were also too cowardly to say all the things you never said to her.

Your debuts were pretty good; of course you started on the bench, but when the coach gave you your chance, you took it. You even scored in your first London derby against Chelsea, and even if you lost, everyone could see that you were more talented than anyone else. But unfortunately, COVID came, and with that, the end of the season.

2022/23 

A lot of things happened during those three years: first, your mom found a new job in your aunt's company; second, you signed another deal with the London club; and finally, the most important thing: you made your first steps for your national team. Being a Dutch player raised in Germany, the two federations wanted you in their team, but you decided to represent your mom and also spend more time with Viv, who had basically become your big sister since you joined the Gunners.

And it was with your oranje kit that you properly saw Lena for the first time in almost four years. Yes, Arsenal faced Wolfsburg last season in Champions League, but you were injured, so you couldn't play. During your pitch inspection, you noticed someone staring at you. You tried to distract yourself by talking with Esme and Vicky, but you were cut off when Lynn and Jill said that some of their Wolfsburg teammates wanted to meet you.

If Viv was your calm and collected big sister, Jill otherwise wanted to be the cool one. She always did some dumb thing to make you smile and see her as cool as she was. Lynn quickly grew into a very close friend of yours, even with the distance. After reluctantly agreeing, you made your way with the two girls to the German players.

Here you were in front of Lina Magull and Sydney Lohmann, who just got kicked out of the Champions League because of you, but like Jill said, there were also some Wolfsburg players, and that's how you found yourself shyly waving to Alex Popp, Feli Rauch, Svenja Huth, Jule Brand, and the only real familiar face, Lena Oberdorf.

Except for Viv (who was not there), Jill, and Dom (who knew how to put two and two together), nobody really knew about you and Lena. Well,  some knew you played together, but nobody knew you were very close friends, and you messed up (almost) everything after you moved to London.

"Guys, this is Y/n, she's a little shy, but she's very good on the pitch." Jill introduced you proudly.

"We already know that." Lina said, and you looked at your feet.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "but you are very good too." You added a little, unsure of what else you could say.

"Wait, are you the same Y/n who played for Essen with Lena?" Jule asked, and when you saw Jill smirk, you knew it was something she planned.

"Uh, yeah." You looked at Lena "Yeah, it was a good moment." You smiled lightly, but it was enough to be noticed by the midfilder. Something in you wanted to pull her away from anyone and tell her that you were sorry about everything, but before that, you had a game to play.

The game went pretty well, even if you lost only 1-0. You showed one of your best performances on the pitch until you got subbed off. After the final whistle, you made your way to congregate with the opponents. When Sydney asked for a jersey swap, you accepted, and the Bayern player was floating in your jersey. Her teammates didn't miss the opportunity to comment on what made Lena feel something—something she thought she had been above for a while now.

In the tunnel, you were talking with Dom when Lena came, slightly interrupting you, but the older Dutch player didn't seem to be bothered by that. "Can we talk?" She asked, and you nodded before following her. "So..." she started before pausing for a moment. "You played really well."

"Thanks, you too. It reminds me of when we were in the old time." You responded and almost instantly cringed at your word choice "Well, it's not that we're so old or anything; it's just that..."

"It's just that it's been a while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, that's it." There was a little silence after your reply, like you were both processing what you just said.

"You...you've changed a lot since 2019."

"Uh, yeah, I grew up a little."

"And you did a little work out?"

"Oh that's? It's a funny story; when I went to London, I was free of any club, and I started to work for my aunt's company, but she just assigned me to the physical job, and after I signed for Arsenal, I kept doing this, and here I am now." You chuckled lightly at the end.

"I think it's funny that when we were little, I was the one who looked like a boy, and now look at you...you're...handsome." You lowered your head, hoping that Lena didn't see you blush at her compliment.

"Thanks, you are beautiful too." Now it was her turn to blush. "Maybe one day we should—" you couldn't finish your sentence before Alex called her teammate "I think it's our cue to leave," you said, and she nodded and quickly hugged you before she left.

Later this night, you sent her a DM on Instagram. You talked a lot, and before you forgot, you gave her your new phone number. Back in London, you were still in your little cloud until Vicky reminded you that your next opponent in the Champions League would be Wolfsburg, but before that, you had a game against Manchester United, where you unfortunately lost Leah.

At the end of April, you were in Germany, ready to play one of the biggest games of the season. The two teams made their way onto the pitch, and like everyone except  you were on the starting eleven. It was funny to see you being almost taller than every player, knowing that you were one of the younger. Your job today was to stop Sveindis' offensive and try to assist Stina in the box.

What should be a hard game became almost impossible when you were tackled by Lena for the first time rather early in the match. Lying on the grass, you took a moment to stand up until two people held you theirs hands. You unconsciously took one of them, and instantly, when your skin touched others, you felt a familiar warmth. On your feet, you were not disappointed when you saw Lena in front of you. She seemed a little worried, but you reassured her with a smile and a gentle tap on her shoulder. That was something she used to do every time an opponent was rough with you, and it became your thing to show that you cared about each other.

The match didn't go as planned, but you still gained a draw before the game at the Emirates. Back in London, you proposed to Lena that you see her before the next game. You told her that your mom wanted to see her. You felt relieved when she finally accepted, and now you had to wait a week to see her.

One week later, you were in your bedroom, emptying your wardrobe with Viv and Beth, trying to choose an outfit for the day. "Well, why don't you try the outfit that Daan brought you for your birthday?" the Dutch asked.

"I lost it," you instantly replied.

"How can you—" Beth started before being interrupted by another voice.

"Y/n always lost or forgot things," Jill said throught your phone. She proposed to help you with Lynn, so you facetimed them a few minutes ago, but they were more focused on whatever the young Dutch was watching on her phone. "Do you remember when she almost forgot her boots before a Champions League game?"

"Oh, come on, it was once," you groaned.

"Yes, but if Viv wasn't there, you would have spent the game on the bench." Beth reminded you.

"Okay, I think we got it; now can we focus on the really important thing?"

"Yeah, girls, let's focus. We're talking about Y/n's first date since a while." Lynn said, and you groaned again.

"It's not a date; it's just a lunch with my mom." You said.

"It's not?" The two girls thought the phone asked at the same time. "So why do you need us to pick an outfit?" Jill added.

"Because...because I promised to my mom that I'd try to wear something other than a jogger, and it's been a long time since I spent a whole time almost alone with Lena, so I want to look good."

"If you want to look good, you can just go without a shirt." Jill joked, making Lynn and Beth laugh, while Viv just sighed. Sorry, but well, you built a good body, so why not show her?"

"Is that even a serious question?" Viv asked while you picked some clothes in the big bazaar.

"Okay, I'll be right back," you said before exiting the room. The girls were talking until you received a text from Lena. Well, from what your teammates could see, 'Obi💪🧸'.

Obi💪🧸:

Ich bin auf dem Weg (I'm on my way) 

You came back just when Viv was about to call you. Your two Arsenal teammates looked at you; they didn't say anything; they just let you get a little unsure if it was a good choice of cloth, but when you were about to speak, you heard Lynn and Jill cheering you on the other side of the phone.

"Go catch the girl," the midfielder said, and you rolled your eyes before you took your phone and saw the text from Lena. You didn't wait more before you left a little anxious, even if you didn't know why.

This afternoon was perfect; your mom was more than happy to see Lena again, and she didn't miss embarrassing you in front of her. When you drove her back to her hotel, you took some time to apologize about your departure a few years ago, but she told you that it was okay because she knew you couldn't do something about that. And after that, there was the game in London.

-----

At the end of the game, you lost 2-3. You were more than gutted, of course; you conced a goal in the last minutes of extra time. The Wolfsburg players came to congratulate you, and even if you found it cruel, you were still professional. Dom stayed with you until she was sure you were okay. Of course, Viv, Jill, and Lynn also came to check on you. You were trying not to be too emotional when Lena approached you. The Dutch players exchanged a look and gave you a quick glance to make sure you were alright before they let you with the German midfielder.

In this moment, a lot of thought invaded Lena's mind. She wanted to hug you to tell you it was okay and you fought pretty well, but she also knew that as someone who plays to win, it was not something she would want to hear herself. So she just gently rubbed your arm and gave you a weak smile. It was fascinating that even after all these years, she still understood you so much. "It was a tough game," she said, and you nodded. "I'm very happy and proud to see you play again, even if it would be better if we played together."

"You can come play here," you remarked, making her look at you with wide eyes. "I mean, if you want, of course. I don't want to force you to leave everyone; it's just that I miss playing with you too." You confessed, "And I'm sure you'd kill it in red." You joked.

"Thanks, but I'm not ready to leave my green shirt for now. But..." she started, making you raise your eyebrow to her. "But you can let me try yours to see if you're right." she explained. It took you some time to process what she meant, but when you did, you couldn't stop a little smile from appearing on your face.

"Very smooth, Oberdorf," you replied while you started to take off your shirt. Today was not particularly hot, but Lena sensed a hot wave rising in her body until it reached her face, and she started to blush. "And here for you," you said, holding her your shirt. Her eyes lost themselves a little on your tall figure before she took it and "maybe" brushed your fingers together on purpose.

She thanked you, and when she was about to take off hers, you stopped her. You didn't say anything until you quickly walked away toward Dom, who was talking with Feli. Lena had her eyes fixed on you through the entire process when you talked to the defender before she left you with her teammates and then came back with what seemed to be a Wolfsburg vest that she gave you, and you made your way back to your best friend.

"Where were you going?"

"I just needed that," you said, showing her the vest.

"For?" You covered her with her vest just enough to let her take off her shirt, protecting her from the public's view.

"Wow, did I miss an episode or something?" Vicky asked some players next to her when she saw what you did. The women around—who were basically all your team and some of Lena's teammates—turned their heads to where the Dutch were looking.

"Oh, Daan will really like that." Lynn was visibly excited to tell your national teammates that.

"Are they dating?" Gio asked.

"No, not yet, but don't worry," Jill said just loud enough to be heard by Dom, who was next to her and earning a strange look from Viv because of the expression she was making.

After your jersey swap, you walked with Lena to where you let almost everyone. You were close, but not close enough to permit anyone to misinterpret anything. Sometimes your arms would touch her while you were walking, and those little touches made you feel something deep in you. In the tunnel, you stopped her a little far away from the group, and the German looked at you with a confused look.

"Can you promise me something?" You started, and when she nodded, you continued, "Promise me that whatever happens in the final, you will not win."

"Yeah, I promise—wait, what?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

"But I want to win."

"And me too, but I want you to win the Champions League with me. That was your idea when we were little," you reminded her, and she laughed.

"I can't promise you that."

"Well, at least I tried," you joked. "More seriously, good luck for the final; I will come to see you."

"Thank you, and I wish you come. It would be different if you can't be there."

Later on the bus, Lena was questioned by a lot of her teammates. She knew that even if they were tired because of previous events, they wouldn't stop until they had their answers. But even if the German plaeyer was more than happy from your last interaction together, she felt like it was too soon to hope about something, despite all the teasing from her teammates and Jill's confession about the fact that she didn't see you so comfortable around someone other than Dom and Viv. While the midfielder was stuck with everyone's attention, the Dutch defender texted you, first to know how you were doing after you had to leave the pitch because of a bad tackle and then to ask you something about one of her next matches.

----

Two days later, you were told that your little injury would make you miss the next two games. You mentally cursed yourself because you knew when you went to the ball that you wouldn't avoid getting hit by the defender. Tryin not to overthink, you asked to take at least one week for you, which the coach was happy to give you. You used this week to help Laura and Leah with their injuries; you also spent some time with your mom and your aunt before you booked a flight to Germany. You don't know how, but your mom told you a few days prior that someone sent you a ticket for the DFB-Pokal final between Wolfsburg and Freiburg.

At the airport, you were surprised to see Lynn and Jill waiting for you. They helped you with your luggage, and they explained to you that the ticket was Dom's idea. Of course it was hers; she always perfectly knew how to read you, so when she saw how Lena talked about you and how you acted, she knew for you that somehow you may have the chance to finish what you couldn't a few years ago.

On the day of the final, the VfL locker room was more secretive than usual—at least that's what Lena was thinking. Except for Lena, all the players knew something special could have happened today. Sensing the weird atmosphere and some gazes on her, the midfielder asked Jule what was happening, but after a quick glance to her teammates, she found the courage to keep her mouth shut, even if it was more suspicious. But the short brunette didn't have too much time to think about it because they had to warm up before the kickoff.

The game started like usual, and at halftime, the two teams were 1-1. Even if the girls in black and green were a little pissed by the result, they were more concerned by something else: Lena hadn't spotted you in the crown yet. But it was a good thing; that meant she was totally focused on the game and nothing else. Back from the locker room, fifteen minutes later, you saw Lena talking with Sveindis, and the midfielder seemed to sense your eyes on her because she suddenly stopped and was about to search for a reason for this strange feeling, but she was met with Alex instantly. The striker looked at her teammates with a confused look before Lena shoved the strange feeling away and made herself ready for the second half.

Like you expected from them, Wolfsburg easily won at the end of full time. The joy quickly erupted from one side of the stadium, and of course, you were among the ones who were celebrating. After a few minutes, you waited for them to give both teams their medals and the cup for your best friend's teammates, and then you were escorted by a guy from security to the pitch to your own surprise. Once on the pitch, you were quickly dragged to the group of players by Lynn, and there you congratulated the girls until you found yourself behind a certain number 5. Ewa Pajor was talking to Lena until she saw you; she just looked at you and excused herself to her teammates.

A little confused Lena decided to search for Jule, but when she took a step back, she collided with someone, and when she turned around to apologize, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She blinked her eyes quickly, making you laugh, and when she heard your voice, she finally found her voice back. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Oh, rude. I thought you would be happy to see me," you replied.

She stood there for a moment, processing everything, and when she came back to her senses, she enveloped you in a tight hug. It took you by surprise, but you finished by reciprocating the hug. With her, everything seemed easier. The little touches, the confessions, the hugs and–and now it clicked in your mind, an almost forgotten feeling.

"I thought you wouldn't see me play until June, but wait, aren't you supposed to have a match this weekend?"

"Yeah, but thanks to a certain defender, I sprained my ankle, so I can't play for now, but I should be alright for the next week." You informed her.

"Oh, that sucks" she commented.

"Yeah, but I should be back in training the next Monday," you assured her.

"I see," she said, looking around to see a lot of eyes on her. "Uh, actually, it's cool that you are here because there is something I have wanted to ask you for a moment now."

"Uh, yeah, me too, actually." You smiled when you saw her surprised expression, but you couldn't brush away all the attention. "Do you mind if we go somewhere a little more calm?" She nodded, and you followed her a little farther in the tunnel. You stood there for a few seconds without saying anything; you were just admiring her. "So, first, congratulations for your victory; it was a great game; you played very well, like always." She blushed at your praise, "but I'm here for another thing. I want to tell you something, but please don't interrupt me until I finish, right?" After a little hesitation, she nodded.

"Okay, I don't know where to start, so I'll just start from the beginning. I wanted to apologize again for letting you go without telling you anything a few years ago. I know you already accept my excuses, but I need to tell you why I did what I did. At first, I planned to ask you out for the end of the season, and then it happened what happened but I didn't have the courage to talk to you about it because I feared that somehow you would reject me, so I used my travel as an excuse to stop talking to you. But then, there was this friendly game when I saw you, and when you didn't seem to be angry by that, I realized that I messed up. And after that, there was our first game in the Champions League, and my crush for you came back. Well,  it's not really a crush; it's a strongest feeling. It's like I'm–"

"In love?" Lena interrupted you.

"Uh, yeah, but how do you?"

"Because I feel it too. Honestly, I should be angry about everything, and I was when you left me, but then I learned what happened with your mom and I saw you play for Arsenal, and it was like all the anger dissipated because I had seen you for a long time and you seemed happy. I wanted to ask you out too before you moved out, but I never had the chance. I don't even know how long I've fallen in love for you, but I don't know it's—I don't know."

"It's easy?" You asked, and her look told you that it was exactly what she was searching for. "Me too. I don't know why, but it's so easy to fall for you. I don't know if it's because of your eyes, your smile, your heart, or everything, but yeah, I love you. So, after four years, I can finally say this: Lena, would you go with me tonight on a date?"

The midfielder wrapped her arms around your neck before slowly approaching your face. She gave you enough time to push her, but when you didn't, she kissed you. You only pulled appar when you needed some oxygen, and Lena was giving one of her brightest smiles.

"So?" you asked when you remembered she didn't give you a proper answer.

"I would love to."

"Great, I'll pick you up at 7 p.m." you said before quickly pecking her lips when you heard some footsteps coming in your direction. Lena's teammates found you totally engulfed in Lena's little body. You saw Jill and Lynn exchanging excited faces while Dom seemed to be proud of her work.

After the team saw the two of you, you were required by almost all the youngest players and Jill to explain what happened. Dom stayed behind with a blushing Lena: "I told you," the denfender told her. The midfielder just looked at her and gave her a hug to thank her.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #arsenalwfc x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #vfl wolfsburg women x reader #nedwnt x reader

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2}

Title: If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Heavy Angst, Plot Heavy, LOTS OF WORDS, Heartbreak, Cursing, 

Words: 9.1k

Summary: The fall out of Lewis’ actions is real, as is the freeze out. You’re fuming but brokenhearted. Not only do you feel like a fool, but you also feel used. Moving on is the only option, but Lewis doesn’t want to move on—or that’s what his actions say. 

Note: Part 2 is here! The plot thickens. 

Note II: Italicized text is a flashback/memory or someone’s words all from some time in the past.

As always, thank you all so much for reading. I truly appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous: If This Is Love, I Don’t Want It {1}

~~~~~~

“Listen to your gut about men. Your gut is never wrong.”

Your mother’s sage old advice echoed in your head. It had been one of the many lessons she’d voice recorded for you before her untimely death when you were just shy of your 18th birthday.

You’d always wondered what had motivated her to write letters and record videos for you dropping wise words, encouragement, mantras, sweet stories and other things of the sort. You often wondered if she knew she was not going to be around in the future.

 Your soft cries turned into loud wails then. Raising the bottle of dark liquor to your lips, you chugged two mouthfuls then cried from the burn. It was just another added pain onto the others you carried. It had been two days since the events at Lewis’ house. Two days you’d locked yourself in one of your family’s vacation homes off the coast of Monaco. Two days you’d been surviving on dark liquor, chocolate, ice-cream and oxygen. Two days you hadn’t answered your phone or done anything else but cry.

As if the heavens sympathized with you, the weather for the last two days had been a dreary, rainy mess. It seemed like the perfect backdrop for you, so you often sat on the deck in the rain and just cried. No care for getting sick, no care for even your hair which you normally were super careful and protective of. Everything be dammed. None of it mattered.

 Everything played in your mind over and over like a movie. It hadn’t felt real then, hell it still didn’t feel real now. You didn’t know how you’d gotten here. Everything had been going so well. For the last year and change his words matched his actions and efforts matched what you saw in his eyes. He was attentive, loving, thoughtful, giving, helpful, honest, devoted. He was perfect. It didn’t make any sense. None of this made sense.

 Could you have imagined what you saw in his eyes? All this time could he have been lying? Was he really such a smooth player and liar to be so skilled to make lies shine through his eyes? Could he really have kept up a façade for over a year? For what? Sex? Your virginity? He didn’t even know you were a virgin.

 You groaned, stood from the shower floor then turned off the water. While dripping wet, you walked to your robe then wrapped yourself in it. Ignoring anything else you walked back to your bedroom and laid down. The weather today was another shitter and again you didn’t care one bit. As you stared out the ceiling to floor window at nothing really your mind drifted away to thoughts trying to make sense of everything. your brain went left, right, up, down and around but still you couldn’t make any sense of it. As your eyelids grew heavier and heavier your brain moved on to the hurt and betrayal of it all. You’d believed, you’d tried, you’d been sold a dream and now it was proven to all be a lie.

 The next time you opened your eyes, it was a lot harder. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy as if you wore several pairs of lashes. That wasn’t the only thing odd, you couldn’t hear anything except warbled words, high pitched beeping and wind as if a vacuum were on beside you. Writhing, you felt hands everywhere, then something powerful held you down and you felt painful pinches in your arms and thighs. You opened your mouth to scream or shout “stop” but no sound came, your throat was dry and tight. Finally, you were able to open your eyes, but everything was blurry. It was as if you were seeing through them for the first time. It hurt, they felt raw as if someone had thrown sand in them, but it was forever embedded inside.

 Then you heard your name being called but the voice was foreign. As soon as it all started it stopped. Now you heard and saw nothing—but darkness.

Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.

You snapped your eyes open and gasped gulping in air as quickly as you could. It felt as if you’d been deprived for days.

 “Y/N!”

 Big mistake you thought as quivered from the ache in your body that felt as if it were emulating from your very bones. Then your eyes immediately burned making you shut them again as your back dropped to a bed.

 “Wh--,” you began but stopped once you recognized pain. You felt hoarse.

 The only thought in your head was, what the hell had happened?

 “It’s okay. Calm down,” your father’s voice advised as he placed his hands on your arms steadying you.

 “I know you’re confused. it’s okay. Take slow breaths. I’m here.”

 “Seriously, Jordan, you spoil her. If you coddle her like this, she’ll think she can pull stunts like this all the time,” came the shrill voice of the woman you hated most in this world.

 “Coddle? Aleeza, she almost died,” your father clarified, exasperation clear in his tone.

 “Da—da--,” you swallowed painfully hoping it would help then tried again. “Da--.”

 “Here my love, some water.”

 You felt the glass touch your bottom lip and you took a tentative sip. The first touch of the cold water over your taste buds woke you up making you feel even more like you’d crawled through the Kalahari Desert for a week. You took mouthful after mouthful until the glass was empty.

 “That a girl,” your father encouraged while gently rubbing your back.

 “Yes, she almost died because of her own negligence. Really, Y/N, disappearing for a rager and then drinking until blackout? How mature. I told you Jordan, she is nowhere ready to take on any responsibility with the club,” Aleeza blabbered on.

 Though you were confused as shit, you were seconds from leaping out of the bed and giving her a Mortal Kombat finish her move. You hated this woman, and it was evident the feeling was mutual.

 “Enough!”

 Your father’s voice boomed around the room stopping any further comments from his 2nd wife. Through the thin slits of your burning eyes, you saw that she pouted at him but quickly shaped up seeing he was not going to be fooled.

 “Either sit down and be quiet or you can wait for me in the hall.”

 You didn’t have to look at Aleeza to know she was cowering. You heard her huff, but you didn’t hear her heels clinking out the room, so you assumed she sat.

 “Sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

 You cleared your throat then spoke, “Wha—What happened?”

 “You don’t remember?”

 Shaking your head, you tried to open your eyes more to see him fully.

 “I couldn’t reach you for 4 days. You were supposed to be back in London. I got worried. None of your friends had heard from you, no one had heard from you. I ended up having to have a friend of mine hack into your phone to get your location. When I got to the house you were unconscious, burning up, shivering with vomit on you.”

 Bits and pieces finally came back to you.

 “I brought you here. You had alcohol poisoning, a bronchial infection, and your anemia had been severely triggered. You don’t have enough red blood cells honey. I thought you were taking care of yourself. You know you shouldn’t be drinking excessively. Then come to find out you hadn’t taken your medication in days. Y/N.”

 “Irresponsible.”

 “Aleeza,” your father cautioned.

 With your head down, you allowed the events leading up to today to play through your mind.

 “I’m sorry dad.”

 He sighed, pulled you into a hug and pat the back of your head like he used to when you were a kid. You melted into him and allowed your tears to fall.

 “It’s okay. I—you scared the shit out of me Y/N. I thought I was going to lose you too. I can’t lose you, not after your mother.”

 His voice was clouded with emotion and unshed tears. You knew how difficult losing your mother was for him. You could tell he still hadn’t recovered fully. Your eye caught Aleeza sitting a ways away. The look on her face brightly showed her disgust, annoyance and hatred. There was something else there too, something you couldn’t place. Was it smugness, happiness?

 “They had to pump your stomach to get rid of the alcohol. They gave you iron transfusions and IV meds for the bronchial infection, and a blood transfusion” your father further informed lifting his arm to show his bandaged forearm.

 That bad, you though as the guilt was swirling in you; “How long have I been here?”

 “Two long days,” Aleeza piped up. “Plus, the day you were found. My, my, you should be careful the state you allow others to see you in. You neeever know who snapped a picture and what they’ll do with it.”

 Both yours and your father’s eyes went to her.

 “All I am saying is plenty of tabloid trash would love a picture of Y-F-N/ Y-L-N thee daughter of F1’s most prominent front runner,” Aleeza said. “It isn’t only your name you drag through the mud, Y/N, it is your father’s—mine.”

 You narrowed your eyes, the hatred you felt for her was bubbling at the surface. You knew the woman was vile but for her to say this to you or your father spoke of how ballsy she really felt. They’d only been married for 4 years, and she thought she held the whole Y-L-N power in her hands. Before you could lurch for her and turn this hospital room into a celebrity deathmatch arena, your father sighed.

 “Wait outside Aleeza.”

 “But honey,” she whined dragging out the pet name.

 “Now.”

 Not liking his tone or that she couldn’t cutesy her way out of this she stomped then walked to the door. Once finally alone, you leaned back onto the bed and sighed. The woman was like dark matter, her leaving instantly relieved the tension in the room.

 “I’m sorry for Aleeza. She’s going through a lot with the shareholders not voting her in.”

 “She was the only one who thought they would vote her in,” you rasped.

 “They did however unanimously vote in your favor to take the next steps. Congratulations to the club’s newest and first woman in senior management.”

 You smiled hearing the confirmation that your hard work and effort had paid off.

 “Congratulations honey. Next step shareholder. Toto better watch his back.”

 You snorted then groaned feeling the pain in your chest and abdomen.

 “It serves you right. They pumped 3 times the normal alcohol consumption for the average human from your system. What the hell?”

 You sighed.

 “What’s going on?”

 You couldn’t tell him the truth. There was no way you could tell him that you’d been sleeping with Mercedes’ golden boy and major bread winner. Internal fraternization was frowned upon, hell it was practically in everyone’s contract and now that you’d been placed in senior management it could look really bad. No matter how much you hated Aleeza she was right. Your name was not yours alone. Your father had worked too long to accomplish all he had for you to fuck it up. Plus, if he found out the entirety of things you were sure he’d rip Lewis’ contract to shreds and kick his ass out of MB. You smiled thinking that, but the devious thought quickly passed. You were not that kind of person. He may have turned out to be a lying, selfish, self-centered asshole, but you were none of those things.

 “Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

 With your mother’s words in your head, you began; “I just got some unsatisfactory news about some investment choices I’d made outside of F1, and the family and I just felt like I’d been pushed back hundreds of steps. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to achieve the things I wanted,” you lied.

 “Honey. What have I always told you? Investments are a game, 50/50. If it’s 50 in your favor great, if not then I’m here. Me and legal the team could have quickly and easily fixed it for you. This was not necessary. Was this a cry for help like Aleeza said?”

 You disgustedly snorted. “No. Aleeza couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m fine now dad. I promise to never let this happen again.”

 He studied you with his wrinkle rimmed all seeing eyes for several long moments. With each second that ticked by, you feared he’d seen right through you. Ever since your mother’s passing, he’d taken her place and was always there for you when you’d gotten your heart broken. He was ready with the ice cream, chocolate, and Brandy. He’d stay with you while you cried offering his lifetime’s worth of advice. If he’d been the one to find you then you knew he had to have seen the empty ice cream cartons and bottles of Brandy lying around amongst the chocolate wrappers. If he had seen them, he knew very well what you were dealing with.

 A sad smile spread across his face. “All right, Y/N. I will take your word for it. Just know I am always your father first and foremost. I will always put you first and I’m always here for you.”

 You nodded and kissed his cheek. If he knew he wasn’t saying anything, and you were grateful to him for that.

 ~~~~~~~

 -3 Days Later-

“Oh my god, when we saw you were in the hospital from Daily Mail, we were so worried,” Francesca said with your hands clasped in hers.

 “Aw, I’m sorry you had to hear about it from Daily Mail—eck! However, I am perfectly fine.”

 You smiled hoping that she and all the other girls believed you. Currently, you were sitting in the conference room that you’d changed around to resemble a comfortable lounge. You’d replaced the oblong conference table and stifling office chairs with oversized bean bag chairs, comfortable designer couches and settees and other elements that gave the room a comfortable vibe.

 “I’m relieved,” Monica, your assistant said.

 “I’m thankful I have you as my right-hand woman and to have such thoughtful women around me.”

 They all beamed at you then Monica stood and walked to the corner where she took out a bouquet of flowers and a galaxy printed gift bag.

 “We all heard about your new title, and we wanted to say...”

 They all jumped up from their seats and threw sparkled confetti at you and into the air.

 “Congratulations!”

 You laughed covering your eyes as the shock washed over you. The room that had been clean seconds ago was now covered in confetti.

 “Wow, you guys. This is—wow, thank you.”

 Monica held the flowers and the gift bag to you. Happily, you took the items and took a deep whiff of them.

 “Mmm. Thank you guys. I appreciate the sentiment and I promise to be the best that I can for all of you.”

 They pooled in and hugged you. With a warm heart you forgot about the stress of the last week or so. This was what you’d worked for, this was what mattered. Your ringing cell phone brought your attention to your purse off to the side.

 “We have to go down to the garage. Are you coming?”

 You looked back at Farrah then nodded; “Give me a second, let me get this and I’ll be right there.”

 They walked to the door leaving you to dig your phone out of your purse. When you had, the caller ID had you pausing.

 💘😘Lewis😍💘

 Your heart immediately began beating out your chest. You stared at his ID and the movie that was your life over the last week or so played in your head at hyper speed. The extreme highs of being with him and being cared for by him, his words during your most intimate moments, his attention, his sex, then the extreme lows of his betrayal, his lies, his selfishness and the aftermath. Your anxiousness turned to anger then.

 This wasn’t the first time he’d called. He’d called so many times since you’d woken in the hospital. Each call of course went unanswered, even ignored. You’d think he would have gotten the hint but no, he kept calling. You thought to put him on the block list, but you hadn’t. You couldn’t. For some reason it still felt wrong, and that fact pissed you off even more. How was it wrong when this was the least of what he deserved?

 The ringing stopped, showing you’d missed his call, but even though you’d missed it, the aftereffects were still present. You cursed your damn body for its treachery and then chastised yourself for still caring and having it prevent you from blocking his ass.

 “Y/N?”

 You shook it off then walked out of the conference room with your purse in tow. As you got downstairs and began your walk to the garage your mind drifted yet again. It had been like this for the last few days. You couldn’t for the life of you keep your head in the game. The smallest things triggered a memory and that memory a slew of emotion and those emotions brought you back to present day and then you crashed—hard.

 You didn’t even realize you’d arrived until you were surrounded by interviewers who were shouting your name trying to get your attention.

 “Y/N, just a few questions.”

 “Okay, sure.”

 “We’ve heard the news of your new position. Congratulations.”

 “Thank you.”

 “Being the daughter of Jordan Y-L-N, did you immediately fall for the idea of working for Mercedes or did they have to woo you?”

 You giggled; “No there was no wooing needed. All I’ve ever known is Mercedes, F1 and racing. Was there really any other career option for me?”

 The reporters laughed all together as the cameras continued snapping.

 “You definitely have a knack for fashion and beauty so there is always that.”

 You struck a pose then fanned off the reporter. “Stop it.”

 “What is the chain of command with your new role?”

 “Uh, I’m still at the bottom of the food chain guys.”

 They laughed again.

 “We doubt that. You are the first woman to enter senior management with the organization. What a feat.”

 “I am incredibly proud of that actually. To see some real change happening to become more inclusive is so monumental.”

 “What do you bring to the Mercedes and F1 table?”

 “A woman’s eye and my entire life of information being behind the scenes, a fan and up front. Needless to say, I’ve seen a lot and I’ve learned even more, and I believe I offer a creative and modern take on the sport and can bring this side of F1 to greater heights.”

 The women you were now in charge of applauded behind you making you smile. They held so much faith in you and it was contagious.

 “Thanks guys,” you said ready to walk away.

 “One more, please, Y/N.”

 “Okay. Last one.”

 “Why do you think Mercedes offered you this role rather than someone more experienced and someone with more skin in the game? Someone who isn’t the daughter of the biggest name in Mercedes. Why you? And couldn’t you consider this nepotism that plenty of African American media users have called for so many of their white counterparts?”

 You couldn’t believe what you’d heard. The old white man who’d asked the question didn’t look in the least bit ashamed or worried about the question. He looked proud. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to say to a reporter. For the first time you actually wanted to reach over and punch a reporter in the face.

 You cleared your throat then stepped forward. That was when someone stepped in front of you. A body with a head full of braids you recognized.

“What kind of question is that? Mercedes chose her because she’s worked her ass off in and around the field learning, helping and wearing more hats than you could possibly imagine. Mercedes chose her for the role because there wasn’t anyone better, no one with more experience, no one with more skin in the game. She has the most as she’s been with this division since the very beginning when it was a formulated idea between Jordan Y-L-N and his late wife, her mother. Who better to take the helm than one of the founding visionaries. As for this being nepotism according to non-POCs, why does it matter what you think? A qualified woman given a position that she is qualified and skilled to do. Isn’t that what we call equal opportunity? Now an unqualified individual given a position that they are unqualified for and highly under skilled to complete thus relying on those who should have been given the position. Isn’t that the textbook definition of nepotism and isn’t that 90% of the nonblack workforce? Y/N more than has the talk to back up the walk. Do you need clarification?”

 The interviewers all looked stunned, and their speechlessness showed just how thoroughly they’d been read. None of them continued. They just nodded and thanked him and moved on. When he turned to you, you knew you should have walked away but you were still standing there dumbstruck. Lewis stared at you, his face solemn, eyebrows knitted and a frown on his lips. From the circles under his eyes and the lack of luster to his skin you, could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. Probably fucking everything with legs, you said to yourself.

 At that thought you clenched your jaw and shook your head. Turning, you began walking.

 “Y/N, wait.”

 As if it were instinct, you stopped. Go, you screamed in your head. Walk! No matter how much you screamed at yourself, your legs didn’t move.

 “Can we talk?”

 You reared back with eyes wide from his audacity. Lewis shrunk back, flinching as if you’d slapped him across the face. You wanted to so badly your palms itched for it.

 “Please,” he softly added.

 The anger bubbling inside of you finally took over. Instead of it making you irrational and shaky, it had the opposite effect. You felt calm. With one brow raised and poison in your eyes you tapped into your bitch side.

 “You can talk to the crack of my ass!”

 With that you walked away joining your team.

 Over the next several days you wished you could have said he’d gotten the hint. He still called even when you put him on the block list. He’d use other means, Toto’s phone, the Mercedes office phones, his crew, other drivers. It was insane. You’d gotten to the point where you were screening calls by voicemail now.

 Every time you broke and listened to one of his voicemails, they sounded more and more desperate. He never said anything of substance or even explained himself. He simply rambled about the past and asked how you were together. His behavior was so confusing it put you in a state of extreme anger and dangerous sadness. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but when you did you couldn’t get past feeling weak for trying to make excuses for him.

By the middle of the week, you’d managed to avoid Lewis, and anyone associated with him. Today you’d told your father you’d accompany him to one of the races and you were now walking around the paddock with other members of the crew inspecting the car and having small chats.

 “Congratulations little Y-L-N,” came a voice you recognized.

 Spinning around, you found Toto coming toward you. Smiling, you approached him and accepted his wide stretched arms for a hug.

 “Thank you, big bad Wolff.”

 He chuckled at your nickname for him. “I hear I should watch my back within the next year or two.”

 “I didn’t say it but--,” you stretched making your father and Toto laugh.

 “All right. Well, I welcome you to take my job because then I’ll be sure you deserve it. Come play with the big boys.”

 You rolled your eyes at his teasing.

 “Are you here in senior management mode or are you a spectator?”

 “A little bit of both I guess. I’m also my dad’s plus one.”

 He nodded then looked back as someone called his name. Approaching your trio was Lewis. You released a heavy sigh then caught your father’s eyes on you. Doing your best to cover, you smiled brightly at him.

 “Lewis, feeling good for the race?”

 “Eh, I’m feeling all right.”

 “Good. You remember Jordan Y-L-N and Y/N.”

 Lewis reached out and shook your father’s hand. You noticed the tight hold your father took of him as he held him in place while slightly leaning forward.

 “What kind of man are you, Lewis?”

 “Uh--,” he began clearly confused by your father’s sudden inquiry.

 “The kind of man someone is says a lot about the kind of driver he is. Are you a good, strong, loyal man who knows right from wrong and always protects those he values or a weak man who easily falls prey to pretty words and pretty faces? Are you the kind of man who a father would be proud to hand his pride and joy over to because he’s certain she’ll be cared for properly?”

 Part of you was confused about what had gotten into him and why he was asking this while the other part of you wanted to pat him on the back and grab a cup of the tea because he was definitely getting his Wendy Williams on. They were damn good questions. You knew from experience he was the latter, but you’d let him tell it or lie. What man in their right mind would admit to being a fuckboi?

 Your eyes, your father’s and Toto’s were on Lewis waiting for his answer.

 “Em, I uh—the former, sir.”

 You snorted louder than you’d intended and now three pairs of eyes were on you.

 “Ehm, sorry, I saw something just over there with Charles.”

 Your father smirked while Lewis grimaced.

 “All right. Good to see you again Lewis. Good luck out there,” your father finished.

 Lewis nodded, thanked him then looked at you. He must have been able to see the disdain in your eyes because the only vibe you got from him was a gloomy and depressing one. What the hell you thought. He’d gotten what he wanted. Why the hell would he be anything but overjoyed?

 “Good luck Lewis,” Toto added.

 He looked at you as if he expected you to say the same. You wouldn’t. You weren’t there yet. You wished him pain. Instead of saying that, you kept your lips sealed. When he realized you weren’t going to be a sheep led by the herd, he nodded then walked away back to his crew.

 Twenty or so minutes later, the race was beginning. From behind the scenes, you watched as the lead fluctuated for the first several laps. By the time lap 40 came around, Lewis was in lead, and you couldn’t quell the part of you that was excited and proud of him. It had been so long programed in you that you hadn’t been able to turn it off yet. With effort, you stifled it and kept yourself in check.

 Lap 55 brought different results, Charles took over the lead putting Lewis in second and now the spectators were split. Some cheering for Lewis, some for Charles. Looking around you could sense the angst in the air. Lewis’ team looked on edge as did Charles’. You found it interesting that 3 weeks ago you would also be on edge hoping for the best outcome for Lewis, but everything was different now. You’d seen his true colors, seen the man underneath the pleasant mask and unfortunate for you, you’d been disillusioned.

 Biting your bottom lip, you checked your phone becoming bored with the race. Before you knew it, everyone was standing and cheering on their teams. Then you heard it, the end of the race. You looked up at the screen and saw the standings. Charles had taken P1 while Lewis was at P2. Again, you felt things a significant other would have felt, things you were not obligated or should have felt. It pissed you off more.

 “Hm, interesting,” your father said.

 “What?”

 “He rarely loses.”

 “He did seem off the last week,” Toto informed.

 You shrugged trying to convince yourself you didn’t care.

 When the cars rolled in, and everyone came in you saw the downtrodden look on Lewis’ face and you had to fight with ever fiber in your being against your instincts. You kept yourself planted right where you were and averted your eyes.

 “Charles, the man of the day,” your father began, “Congratulations.”

 “Thank you, sir. Wow, I’m speechless you know who I am.”

 “Of course. Anyone pulling stats like yours I make a business to know,” your father joked.

 “Do you know Y/N?”

 Charles’ eyes landed on you and a wide smile filled his face. He was adorable and you could see how he had the attention of so many fans.

 “I do but glad to finally be up close and personal.”

 Your eyebrow crooked at what sounded like a flirtatious line. Just behind Charles you saw Lewis watching though a sea of people surrounded him trying to get his thoughts.

 “Well up close and personal we are. Good race, congratulations.”

 You stepped in and hugged him while giving Lewis your daggered glare of death.

 “Thanks. Wow, you have such a beautiful daughter Mr. Y-L-N.”

 Your father chuckled. “Don’t I know it. It’s my curse. No matter how I try I can’t keep the boys from her yard.”

 You snorted and teasingly slapped your father’s shoulder. “Ew, dad.”

 Those around laughed as well.

 “Well not all boys in her yard are bad.”

 “Are you throwing yourself in her yard, son?”

 Charles looked at you again and smiled. “I’d be honored to be there.”

 You giggled and swatted at his chest playing up your flirtation. Lewis looked absolutely livid. Good you thought and hoped he understood he wasn’t the end of your world. There were indeed plenty of fish in the sea or in this pond.

Several hours later, you were finally walking to your car ready to go home from a long day. Your feet and face hurt from walking and smiling too much, and you couldn’t wait to wipe off all the makeup and kick off the heels. You sat in the driver’s seat with your feet outside the car then unbuckled your heels. after taking one off, you put it over your knee and massaged it sighing when you hit a particularly achy part.

 “Ouch.”

 Just then a memory hit you of Lewis massaging your feet on long days like this. He never missed a massage. Usually that massage led to other things like him nestling his head between your thighs to then lick, suck and slurp the stress of the day away. With that memory in your head, you dazed out reminiscing about all the good times. Things had been so good, so perfect. you felt the tears prick your eyes and before you could stop them, they rolled down your face.

 “Damn it,” you said on a whine as you buried your face in your palms.

 You couldn’t stop the cries that wracked your body. It was like you hadn’t shed any tears these last weeks when in fact you’d cried every day since finding Lewis exercising his right to be a man whore.

 “Fuck. Stop it Y/N. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!”

 No matter how many times you said it the tears kept coming. You didn’t know how long you sat there barefoot and weeping. It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You didn’t know nor cared.

 “Y/N?”

 You were crying so loud that you barely heard the voice.

 “Y/N!”

 Suddenly before you Lewis was dropped to his knees searching you.

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

 His words were frantic, eyes wide and wild. It took a few moments to realize what was happening but instead of kicking him in his face, you made up your face and wailed even more.

 “Get the fuck—the fuck—the fuck away!”

 He didn’t.

 “What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”

 “Y—y—you! Asshole!”

 His hands slackened on your arms, and you saw him dip his head.

 “I—I--,” he stuttered.

 “Get away!”

 He began getting up, but you pulled him back down. “Why? Why’d you do it?! How could you!”

 You held him by his shirt like you were a gangster getting ready to pummel him. He didn’t fight you, so you released your fists in a fury of hits against his chest. No matter how hard you hit him he didn’t move, nor try to stop you. He just took it. Soon, your barrage of hits turned to you just pressing your forehead on his chest as you cried.

 “Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I--.”

 You barely heard his words all you could focus on was the pain in your heart. Many long moments passed with the two of you like this, Lewis on his knees before you with your forehead on his chest. You hated it but he still felt like home to you. He still felt like yours. Those feelings angered you because you knew you were being stupid, pathetic and weak. You knew if he’d fucked you over once, he’d do it again and again. You weren’t blind to the games of the assholes in the world, but you couldn’t believe you’d fallen for one. You couldn’t believe you’d given one such a significant part of you and now you had nothing to show for it but the shattered pieces of your heart and clown face paint as souvenirs.

 When your sobs slowed then finally dwindled down to sniffles, and your body stilled to only sudden sharp intakes of breath every so often your senses returned. The first thing you became aware of were Lewis’ arms wrapped around you holding you close to him. The second was the fact he was kneeling between your thighs, something that felt intimate in its own standing. The third was that his two-man bodyguard team were standing a few feet away with their backs turned. That jarred you so much that you immediately felt regret.

 “Get off me!”

 You shoved him off harder than you’d intended then wiped your tear-soaked face.

 “Y/N--,” Lewis began.

 “Shut up!”

 Your voice echoed around the empty parking space. You were the only people around, but you didn’t put it past some pap to be hiding out trying to get a candid of F1’s golden boy.

 “Let me explain.”

 “Explain? You had your chance to explain. You chose to remain silent, and fuck lose pussy.”

 “I didn’t fuck anyone!”

 His voice was sharp and sudden as if he’d been enflamed to set the record straight all of a sudden. You narrowed your eyes at him and began moving trying to swing your legs inside your car. Lewis grabbed your thighs keeping you in place.

 “I didn’t.”

 “You’re a fucking liar Lewis! I was there. I saw it!”

 “You saw what I wanted you to see.”

 Your anger sparked then.

 “What the fuck does that mean? You wanted me to see you fucking other bitches? You wanted me to see you for the asshole you are. Fine! Done! I see it! Let me the fuck go!”

 He didn’t.

 “I thought I could do this. I thought I could easily do this because it was to protect you, it was to keep you safe.”

 “What! What’re you talking about?”

 Lewis rubbed across his face. He looked haunted, exhausted, and broken. “If you’re this bad off to end up in the hospital and now this—fuck. I fucked up.”

 You didn’t know what he was saying much less couldn’t understand anything. Nothing made sense.

 “Y/N, listen—I—shit—okay listen.”

 He continued to stutter as he tried to formulate a sentence but every time nothing came out. You sat there giving him time to get it together but realized your idiocy midway through. Groaning, you shoved him again.

 “Get the fuck away. You’re full of shit!”

 Managing to push him away this time, he fell backward. You swung your legs inside your car then reached for the door. Lewis put his hand on yours, stopping you.

 “Wait, please.”

 “Fuck you, Lewis. Fuck you and fuck this!”

 You shook your hand free then slammed your car door. It took you seconds to start your engine and revved out of there like F1’s newest driving talent. As you sped away you looked in your rearview mirror at a still kneeling Lewis with his hands planted atop his head. Your heart broke seeing it but that only angered you more.

 That night you struggled to get any sleep. You were in between states of hysterical crying and obsessive staring and stalking. You couldn’t make sense of anything, couldn’t understand his behavior. One minute he was telling you that all he wanted to do was live life in the fast lane and fuck around then he was holding you so tenderly and apologizing. You were getting mental whiplash from his change up and it infuriated you.

By the time the sun rose, you were still awake. As you were getting ready to shoot a message informing everyone of a personal day, you received a message telling you about a meeting at the company. You groaned knowing you did not have the energy to sit through a 2-hour meeting. You shot Toto a message telling him you’d have to pass blaming a medical appointment for the absence then decided to use the company gym to burn off some steam.

 After you’d changed and had gotten in your car, you drove to the company barely aware of anything happening around you. All of it felt like muscle memory to you. The reason why it had, you realized once you’d parked your car, was because you hadn’t driven yourself to the company. You’d driven to Lewis’ London house instead.

 “What the actual fuck, Y/N?”

 You dropped your forehead on your steering wheel and groaned. Muscle memory indeed, you thought. You didn’t see his car on the street and thought maybe he wasn’t home. Deciding now would be a good time to clear your stuff out of his place you entered the code into the alarm system then drove in once the gates opened. After parking on what Lewis had distinguished as your parking area you closed the garage door then let yourself inside using the keys he’d given you.

 This was another thing you couldn’t understand. If you were just a conquest and an easy target, why give you keys to his houses, why tell you the codes to security systems? You took off your sneakers and took them with you as you passed a large blown-up photo of the two of you hung right in the foyer. You stood stunned staring at it. You remembered this day. He’d shut down the top of the Empire State Building for a one-on-one date. Then after wining and dining you all night while whispering sweet words the entire time, he’d asked his guard to snap a few pictures. You remembered the words he’d whispered in your ear in this exact picture.

 “You make me want forever.”

 You closed your eyes feeling the tears. Willing them away you fought against your emotional side. You were tired of crying, tired of going around and around with this and him. It was time to end things, once and for all. You cut your eyes at the photo then hurried upstairs to his bedroom. The memories and his scent hit you like a ton of bricks when you walked in and again you fought it all. You couldn’t afford to get sucked back into the memories that were clearly a lie.

 After finding one of your overnight bags in his walk-in closet, you began filling it with your things. It surprised you how much of your stuff was here. It wasn’t just clothes and toiletries. It was shoes, bags, make up, jewelry, hair things, work files, even gifts you planned on giving to friends. Sighing, you packed everything you’d came with while leaving anything he’d given you. They would only hurt to find later.

 It took longer than you’d anticipated but after an hour you had three bags filled with your things. As you passed the photo again on your way out you paused to look around once more. Though it was just a few seconds, you knew you’d missed your window when you heard a car pull in.

 “Shit.”

 Hurrying, you dragged your bags behind the large bar then ducked down out of sight. The door opened and shut then you heard a heavy sigh.

 “I thought she’d be at the meeting,” Lewis said.

 “If you want to talk to her just call her,” one of his guards said.

 “If she wanted to talk to me, she would have answered the other hundred times I called.”

 “Then tell her the truth.”

 Lewis sighed again. “How?”

 His voice was close now. You guessed he was standing right at the bar. You made yourself smaller and hoped he didn’t come behind it.

 “I’m sure when you start the words will come.”

 The door opened again then you heard the voice of his friends. You’d spent a lot of time with his friends getting to know them. They were cool people.

 “When are we clubbing,” Miles asked.

 “Not in the mood,” Lewis said dismissing the idea.

 “Come on. Just because your shorty left you doesn’t mean we all gotta suffer.”

 “She ain’t leave him bruv, he made her leave,” Daniel clarified.

 Your attention piqued. What did that mean?

 “You still haven’t explained all that yet. What now?”

 Suddenly, the bell rang, and everyone got quiet.

 “For fuck’s sake. Really?”

 Lewis sounded beyond upset, beyond fed up. A few moments of silence passed, and you were almost tempted to peep your head out to see what was happening. When he began speaking, you remained in your hiding spot.

 “Y’all gotta hide. I don’t want her knowing you’re here and I’m sure it’ll be clear.”

 You heard hurried footsteps.

 “Nah, behind the bar,” Lewis said.

Your eyes bugged knowing you were going to be caught. Shit, you thought. It was Daniel who saw you first, his reaction was quick, simple widened eyes before he ducked down. Andrew saw you next and though he paused he didn’t comment until he was ducked down. Now Miles, when he saw you, he had to be the one.

 “What the--.”

 Daniel yanked him down before he could say much else though.

 “We’re good,” Daniel said.

 “What the fuck are you doing here?”

 “Getting my stuff,” you whispered back to Miles.

 Their eyes dipped to the bags around you, then they nodded.

 “What the fuck is going on?”

 They all shrugged in unison.

 “What’re you doing here?”

 “There he is,” a feminine voice spoke.

 Your spine stiffened. There’s no way. It couldn’t be, you thought. The clinking of heels was so loud, so distinctively her.

 “What do you want Aleeza. Also, I don’t remember inviting you in.”

 Your eyes widened. What the hell was your father’s evil trophy wife doing here?

 “Trust me, you’re going to want to make sure no one else hears what I have to say.”

 The door slammed and echoed throughout the first floor. When you looked over three pairs of eyes were on you as if waiting for you to explain. You shrugged. You had no idea why she was there.

 “What more do you want? I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I have nothing left to give.”

 Aleeza laughed, it sounded like the wicked witch in Snow White’s cackle. The three men across from you shuddered all at once. You scoffed to yourself thinking if they only knew the half of it.

 “Aww poor baby. Are you hurting? Get over it. she was nothing, less than nothing, an insignificant speck.”

 “Why do you hate her so much?”

 Were they talking about you?

 Aleeza scoffed disgustedly, “Why do I hate the so-called perfect Y-F-N/Y-L-N? Pick a reason. Her father chose to marry her mother over me. He had the nerve to pick her over me saying he loved her and not me. It should have been me. It was supposed to be me! All anyone ever talked about was her stupid, perfect mother. Oh, Alisha is so pretty, she’s so kind, she’s so smart. My god just wanted them to shut up. So, I bided my time until the bitch died then I swooped in.”

 You were so stunned right now you hadn’t moved an inch. Your eyes remained bugged and glued to one particular spot in the bar as you listened. Slowly, the pieces all fit together. You never knew why she didn’t like you, never even knew of the rivalry she’d had with your mother. You felt like you were an outsider looking in on an episode of F1’s WAGS (Wives and Girlfriends).

 “I’ve hated her from the day I met her. Why would I love that bitch’s daughter. Then I realized she is just like her. All anyone can talk about is Y/N. She’s so beautiful, so kind, so smart, so skilled. Uuuugh!”

 A loud crash of something breaking had all four of you jumping out of your skin. As if this were campfire horror stories, the four of you grabbed hands. This shit could go south at any moment.

 “Then I saw you and I wanted you.”

 Lewis let out a disgusted huff.

 “The plan was to seduce you slowly or use a little force to get you into my bed and ya’ know.”

 The four of you now made up your faces as if you were going to be sick. Hearing all this, you actually might get sick very soon.

 “Then I saw how you were with that bitch. I don’t know how anyone else didn’t notice. I put two and two together and realized you were fucking the slut. Just like her whore of a mother, taking what was mine!”

 Another crash of shattering glass filled the room.

 “So, I had the perfect way to give that little slut what she deserved, what her mother should have gotten. That’s why I got the idea to have you do my dirty work. I mean I already had the goods on you. If Jordan found out you were fucking his precious daughter born of true loves kiss from his soulmate, you’d be out of Mercedes quicker than you can say 103 first place standings. They wouldn’t have mattered.”

 “So that’s why you made me do what I did,” Lewis said sort of in disbelief.

 Aleeza cackled again and again the fellas shuddered.

 “Made you? Lewis come on. All I said was either end things brutally by breaking and shattering her heart so she’d never recover, or I’d tell daddy dearest,” Aleeza said.

 Your eyes widened even more. She was blackmailing him.

 “Of course, you being you and so damn delicious, manly and sexy was ready to throw your hard-earned career to the side come what may just for that little slut. I can’t believe you were willing to have me tell her father and have him rip up your contract rather than break her heart.”

 She laughed maniacally and you swore outside got as dark as midnight though it was probably only noon. Across from you, Miles had a panicked look on his face, and he was mouthing; “what the fuck” over and over.

 “I could never do that to her.”

 “Yet you did. Tell me was it only because I said she’d end up in another unfortunate accident like her car accident a few months ago?”

 A disturbing thought filled you. Was Aleeza behind your car accident? The police deemed it a drunk driver who’d ran out of the car to avoid being caught but could it have been a hired goon who had been paid to plow into you as you stood outside the Gala that night waiting for Lewis to bring his car around? Goosebumps peppered your flesh as so many emotions coursed through you.

 “Was it you?”

 As if he’d heard your thoughts, Lewis asked what you wanted to know.

“Me?”

 “Were you behind the accident then?”

 A long silence filled the room as you anxiously waited for her answer. You were ready to leap over the bar and beat it out of her. Thankfully she spoke.

 “If only that idiot hadn’t fucked up the first accident. She’d be long gone by now and I would be the sole inheritor to Jordan’s estate when he dies. So, this plan worked well too. Anyway, it was you who decided how to break her heart. You made that choice all by yourself and might I add what an incredible choice it was. My, my when you go you go all out.”

 She cackled some more.

 “After everything we’d been through there was no way she’d believe anything else.”

 He sounded dejected and heartbroken.

 “And believe you she did. That show was incredible. I was just—”

 She slow clapped for him, and each heavy-handed clap echoed sounding more and more like the annoying clash cymbals.

 “Watching it I couldn’t believe it. Then when she revealed that you’d taken her virginity, holy hell what a fucking plot twist! The little slut really wasn’t a slut but a total prude.”

 She cackled some more, and the fellas looked sympathetically to you. You didn’t know what the hell to say at this point. This was too much.

 “Bravo. You did more than a job well done. Shattered her heart, broke her faith in men and stole her virginity.”

 “Where in your plan did you figure you’d get me in your bed after this?”

 Another long silence.

 “I mean after you’d pulled off all of these disgusting things revealing your true face. Why would I ever sleep with you?”

 “You’ve slept with far worse.”

 He scoffed.

 “Then I can still blackmail you with your deflowering of your boss’ innocent daughter oh and your falling out which put her in the hospital. Either you give me what I want, or you would have done all this for nothing, broken her heart, and lost your career.”

 Her heels clinked again a few times. She wasn’t walking away she was getting closer to him.

 “Come on Lewis, it’s easy. All I want is that part of you that you’ve given to soooo many before Y/N.”

 “Dick. You did all of this for dick.”

 “Your dick and to ruin that little bitch. Do I have to ruin you too? Why not keep the one thing you have left.”

 “I can tell Y/N.”

 She laughed again. “Like she’d believe that incredulous story of me making you sleep with other girls. Hell like she’d speak to you. I’ve seen the freeze out. Yikes, it’s almost like you broke her heart.”

 “You’re evil, pure evil.”

 “Watch it, Lewis. Your career and future are in my hands, or should I say my pussy. Please it and you will find salvation.”

 She chuckled. “You have 2 days. Buh-bye.”

 The annoying sound of her stupid heels clinked across the floor until they faded with the close of a door. No one moved for several moments. You didn’t think you could. Suddenly Miles sprang up.

 “What the Five Nights at Freddy’s fucking hell was that shit?!”

 Slowly, Andrew then Daniel stood as well. You could hear Miles carrying on, but you didn’t hear the words out of his mouth. You were too lost in your thoughts, too lost replaying all of that and trying to let it digest. You went over the entire thing in your head. You were so lost in your thoughts that you’d tuned everything out.

 When you saw Daniel come back over and stand in front of you, it barely registered. He stooped and held his hand out for you. Slowly, you pulled some of yourself together enough to acknowledge him there. When you took his hand, he stood leading you up.

It took a few moments but when Lewis saw you from across the room, he bolted to his feet. His eyes were wide as he crossed the room eyes never leaving you.

 “Y/N?”

 You stepped back though you were separated by the bar top. Lewis stopped.

 “Wha—what are you doing here? How’d you get in? Did—did you hear that?”

 He looked over to Daniel then back to you. A few moments later, he came around to you bucking his feet on your bags. You watched as the realization washed over him.

 “You—you didn’t come for me. You came to pack your things.”

 He sounded so hopeless, so hurt. Now more than ever you wanted to go to him, but you couldn’t move. What the fuck was real and what wasn’t? You were struggling to wrap your head around any of this.

 “What the fuck!”

 It was all you could say. Though there were plenty of words to say in your head, those were the only ones that made it through your lips. You could feel yourself beginning to panic. It was something you’d thought you worked through after the accident. You’d gone to therapy and everything to get over the panic and anxiety nearly being run over had caused. Now here it was again.

 Your airways tightened and soon the struggle wasn’t to wrap your head around this soap opera, it was to breathe. The less air you could get, the more you panicked. Soon you were surrounded by Lewis and his friends, each dictating to you how to breathe with panicked serial killer eyes or telling you to calm down as they were clearly not calm or straight up panicking along with you.

 The last thought you had was you were going to die surrounded by the four stooges. Then everything faded to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#If this is love you need to prove it 2 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton drabble #f1 fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton one shot

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

Please please please could you write a Nikolai x reader fic with the Enchanted prompt?? 🥹💕

Majestic- Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N- Ignore the image looking so big. Anyways, I had so much fun writing this and I really hope you enjoy reading it! I wrote this one in Nikolai's pov because I love my bbg being a huge simp also jealous Nikolai😩😩

Warnings- None

Summary- Nikolai utterly despised how annoying you are, but when he sees you dancing with someone else during a ball, he experiences feelings he never knew of

Nikolai walked around the hall, checking how Genya's preparations for the upcoming ball had been going on. She'd done a marvellous job, undoubtedly, but still he was astonished to find the boring hall look so endearing. Usually he wasn't much thrilled for these events as they were a frequent occurrence, yet he found himself looking forward to this one as you were supposed to be there

"I'm surprised to say that it's quite impressive how you've turned this monotonous area in this palace to this" He looked around the hall, so as to admire the view

"Surprised? I excel at anything I wish to" Genya responded with a smug look on her face

"Well, I'm not arguing that" Nikolai shrugged. 

"Oh and just so you know, y/n has come back so she'll be attending the event" She spoke again.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's good, but I don't see why that concerns me" He gave her a disinterested look

"Alright" Genya rolled her single amber eye, not wanting to argue with him further. 

You'd been away for a meeting with the Kerch merchant council for about a week now. Even though Nikolai was relieved to not having to tolerate you making fun of literally everything he did, he was still surprised to find himself missing your devilish grin

............................................................

Nikolai had wore a black coat with the Ravkan double eagle emblazoned to a side. His hair looked much less messier than usual.  

He entered the now endearing hall with light gleaming from every corner. The whole surrounding was filled with a variety of riches, nobles and high ranking officers from the first army. 

He was having a rather displeasing conversation with some merchant about various kinds of brandies when he noticed you enter the hall. You were wearing a midnight blue silk gown with straps that hung beautifully over your shoulders. Your hair was pulled into a bun and had several loose strands falling in front that were too small to be a part of the bun

You seemed to catch most people's attentions as they recognized who you were. You chatted with most of the nobles and they listened to you speak with great interest. The whole scene made Nikolai roll his eyes and get himself another glass of champagne

...................................................

Nikolai was watching the perfectly hung chandeliers when he heard your voice from behind

"Looks like you've found your betrothed, moi tsar" you smirked 

Instead of being annoyed, he smiled back and responded "Well she is radiant and much more quiet then the other options"

"You wish you had that option" You gave him a proud expression

"Ah how unlucky of me to not having the most annoying human on earth as an option to become my betrothed" he gave you similar look

"Keep telling yourself that to soothe your aching heart, moi tsar" you tilted your head to a side

Before Nikolai could respond with equally snarky words, you were snatched away by a noblewoman who began to ask you about the architectural designs in Ketterdam. 

..........................................

Nikolai spent most of his time talking to the guests yet, he could keep his attention towards the conversation which was weird because he was quite good at listening to people talk. He still found his gaze drifting towards you. Why was he even doing that? you were just almost too good at conversating with strangers but why would it matter to him, those people didn't know how annoying you truly were. 

It was maddening how you were hiding your true evil nature so elegantly and how beautiful you were looking in that damned dress and how beautifully it brought out the color of your eyes. 

You were now talking to some, young man who was trying too hard to flirt with you. 

The man was a lot taller than you so you had to look up to meet his gaze. But what was so special about that anyways? Nikolai was a lot taller than you as well or maybe you were just too short. He also had dark hair that was slicked back and small dimples appeared on either side of his cheeks whenever he smiled. What even was so special about dimples anyway? they didn't make him insanely attractive or anything. 

Nikolai was really struggling to not roll his eyes at the sights of all that, yet he couldn't figure out why he was caring so much about it. Why he didn't like it when you weren't spending your evening mocking him but were instead laughing with someone else. 

Soon, the dances were about to begin and the change of the rhythm of the orchestra proved so. 

Several people stepped front to partake in the activity. Nikolai noticed the man with the dimples bringing his hand forward and you taking it as you both stepped in front.

................................................

Nikolai stood in a corner with a half empty glass of champagne in his hand as he watched you glide around the hall with the average looking man. 

He spun you around while his gaze remained fixated on yours. And at times, even grinned like an idiot who'd achieved something huge without any effort. 

Though there were a thousand things Nikolai could be doing at that moment, he continued to look at you with immense grimace. He watched you dance with the bloke as he got himself another glass of champagne. 

.............................................

After what felt like an eternity, the façade was finished and you bid farewell to the man. 

Nikolai was too deep indulged in his thoughts to notice you coming from behind. "You seem to be rather displeased tonight, moi tsarevich" You spoke

He turned around hastily to see you standing in front of him.  "Well, these occasions are all the same, nothing new. People bragging and indulging in useless conversations that might bore you to death and dancing with nincompoops" he grimaced at the last sentence

"All the saints and their aunts, are you jealous your highness?" you smirked

"In your wildest dreams" he responded with a bold expression. "Who even is that guy anyways? Another average man who thinks he can win over anyone with his dimples and weird hair" he muttered loud enough for you to hear

"You know, if you really wished to dance with me, you could've just said so" a corner of your mouth turned up

"Maybe, but you were too occupied grinning with that bloke"

"See? acceptance is a bold step your highness. And don't curse the poor boy so much, he'd already been looking as if he'd been preparing his script for weeks"

"If only he possessed my talents" he smiled proudly

"You know, it's not entirely late for that dance" you tilted your head as you raised your eyebrows.

"Alright then, I shall fulfil that wish of yours too" he responded, his statement making you roll your eyes

He gently offered you his hand and you took it as you both stepped outside the hall.

................................................

The euphonic music playing distantly filled up your ears as you took Nikolai's hands in yours. His gaze remained stagnant on yours and he finally noticed how beautifully your y/e/c eyes shone as the moonlight gleamed on them. At that moment, he could think of nothing but you. How beautiful you appeared, even when you'd be working in the scorching heat or the heavy rain. How smartly you managed to handle any situation without engaging in any form of conflict. How could he not like you if you were that way. How was he to despise you when you were so majestic? Through he was now hating you for being so.

"You know, it wouldn't shatter your pride to just accept the fact that I'm simply the most magnificent woman you've laid your eyes on, your highness" you smiled as you raised your eyebrows

"Nikolai, just Nikolai would do. And I that is very bold of you, but you do more work to keep the country stable than anyone else so I wouldn't say much" he returned your expression

"You aren't denying it either, Nikolai" 

His name coming from your lips made him feel different, as he never had before. It was rather rare of you calling him by his name he couldn't even recall the last time you did. But he knew you were right, he truly never hand seen another woman as magnificent as you.  

No matter how much you annoyed him most of the time or made fun of every thing about him, he really never had known one like you. And seeing you dance with someone else, seeing your hands on someone else's, made him feel emotions he never knew he had. 

You swayed to the soft music playing in the distance as your hands rested on Nikolai's shoulders and his on your waist. 

His soft hazel eyes were fixated on yours as the night went by. He brought out his hand without haste and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear that had been blocking his view of your beautiful y/e/c eye. 

................................................

The moment went by in a haste as you spoke in a sudden, "I'm afraid I might have to leave now, so as to bid farewells to the guests and I believe you should do the same" 

"Ye-yes you're right" he spoke in a hesitant voice, not willing to part from you. 

Without having another option, you turned to leave as Nikolai held your hand for a moment and then let it go.

You both went your separate ways as Nikolai slightly flexed his hand from your touch. 

After the party ended, he set on his way to his quarters, not realizing how red his cheeks had become. 

#nikolai lantsov x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lanstov #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lanstov x reader

[justauthoring]

That thought made Meguru feel like he might die of loneliness.

"Do you have any friends?"

Bachira raises his head, puzzled at the sound of another's voice.

The very last thing he expects to see is you, pretty eyes staring back at his own with a twinkle that shines in the soft set of the sun. Your smile is bright and inviting, warming in a way Bachira's not sure he's ever experienced before, crouched down before him so that your head, tilted, rests on your arms.

Bachira's seen you before. The two of you go to the same school, share the same homeroom - he's walked past you more times than he count in the hallway, laughing without a care in the world at something your friends say to you. He's seen you and admired you before, taken note of those pretty eyes before or how cute you look in the school's uniform. The different ways you like to wear your hair, or the way you seem to skip with a pep in your step everywhere you go.

He's noticed you so many times. He'd just been sure you'd never noticed him.

So, he's puzzled. More than that; Bachira's absolutely baffled with the fact that you're here, smiling at him no less.

"Huh?"

"You're here every day," you explain with ease, your voice soft against the silence. Everyone else has already gone home, the sun is setting and truthfully, he should be heading home soon too (his mother will start to worry) but after he'd finished practicing, he hadn't had the heart to.

"But I always see you practicing alone," you continue. "Nobody to play with you?"

"There's nobody who can."

It hurts in a way he doesn't expect it to - saying it aloud like that.

"Nobody who will."

And then your answer comes easily. "I will," you grin, ear to ear, bright and wide eyed as you laugh.

Bachira's brows furrow; "do you even play soccer?"

He's almost positive he's never seen you play - not once out on the field, or alone otherwise. He knows you're in a club but it certainly isn't soccer, and he's pretty sure he's never even seen you near anything sports like unless it's for gym. He's seen you trip when simply walking to class, or knock something over because you're not paying attention to where your hands are swinging so he also knows you're not coordinated - truthfully, a bit of a klutz.

"No," you shrug, "but you have no one to play with right?"

He slowly shakes his head.

It's so easy the way you say it, like there had never been any other option otherwise. Voice a merry twinkle against his own punishing thoughts, and that smile still so bright it almost hurts to look at it.

"So I will."

Lips parting, Bachira sits forward; "wouldn't you rather be... doing something else? Hanging with your friends?"

Your smile fades, an almost somber look fading into your eyes as you rest your head against your arms, curled into yourself. "You seem lonely. Everyday. By yourself," you whisper, voice so soft that if it wasn't completely silent otherwise, Bachira wouldn't have been able to hear you. "I can understand that."

"But you..."

He doesn't finish his words, not sure how to. But he doesn't need to, you understand.

"They don't get me. My friends," you elaborate, "not really. I have to pretend to be someone else when I'm with them. They think I'm too silly otherwise, too... weird. You see..." And then there's this wistful look in your eyes, that same smile curling onto your lips as you look past him, as if staring at someone else entirely. "I have something inside me. Something I'm searching for."

And his eyes widen and he feels his heart start to race at your words. Words so familiar, words that he's thought and said so many times before...

You look back at him then.

"And I think you're it."

Bachira's lips part, he wants to say something but he isn't sure what. All he can manage is a simple, echoed; "a monster..."

It's no doubt you hear him - he knows that you do - but you don't say anything, don't question it.

You simply stand, brushing off your skirt as you step towards Bachira, hand stretched out towards him with a gentle smile that makes his stomach feel all funny and his breath get caught in the back of his throat.

"Let's play, Bachira-kun."

And his hand is falling in your own before he even realizes it, excitement flooding his entire chest as he meets your eyes. He feels giddy then, as opposed to how he'd felt moments ago, wanting to practically jump to his feet just to hear you say you'll play with him again. He'll do anything to hear you say the words again.

Your fingers thread through his, warmth blossoming, while an echoed voice carries behind him;

take her hand...

-

i just... i just love him so much.

#blue lock #blue lock imagine #blue lock x reader #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru imagine #bachira meguru #bachira x reader

[tkwrites]

Photo is my own

Love Me Gently - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 

Warnings: smut (18+ only), fingering (m on f), handjob (f on m)

Summary: Early on in their relationship, Quinn and Sarah have their first really sexual encounter, and learn about each other along the way. 

Word count: 1,900

Comments: I see a lot of hard love in the world. A lot of extremes. Name calling and other kinds of degrading things. I realize this is a kink for some, and absolutely no shade if that's your thing. I just want to drop in another option: that it's okay if that's not something you want. It's okay to like and want gentleness, even if it seems a little boring on the surface. 

As before, this is a snapshot with the same characters in no particular order. 

Love Me Gently

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah angled her hips closer to his. She was in Quinn’s lap, kissing him and kissing him. He’d been gone for the past week, and she didn’t realize how much she would miss him until he wasn’t there. 

Now, he was back, and they were making out on his plush suede couch she was sure cost more than her car. 

This was the first time he’d invited her over without any pretense. No, "want to come up for a drink?" or "I’m going to cook you dinner." Just, “Come over.” 

The whole situation - the fact that he wanted to see her as much as she did him, and how handsome he looked with the scruff he let grow while he was gone, and that he kissed her as soon as he’d opened the door to his apartment, and the way his hands were roaming, traveling all over her, leaving hot trails in their wake - made her whole body feel like it was on fire. 

They hadn’t slept together yet, despite dating for almost four weeks. It hadn’t really come up. With his busy schedule, she thought he would be a third date kinda guy, but it seemed he was happy to wait until she was ready. 

Her body was telling her she was ready. Screaming it from the rooftops. 

Desire pulsed and ached between her legs. As they were currently bracketing his hips, she couldn’t squeeze them together for friction. So she did the next best thing and pressed her hips tightly against his, rocking gently to ease some of the sexual frustration snapping through her veins. 

A low groan filtered up his throat that had her temperature raising another few degrees. 

God, she felt so good pressed up against him like that. 

Quinn didn’t like to push in new relationships, always respecting the women he was with to let him know then they were ready, but he felt like he was going to explode if he didn't get some kind of release.

Her hand slid down his chest and stomach (his shirt had been discarded almost immediately), and Quinn felt his muscles quiver and his dick get harder at the thought of her touching him. Soon enough, her hand was over the bulge in his sweats, cupping him gently, and making him feel like he might set fire to everything in the room. 

“Can I?” she whispered. 

He nodded, "yeah." 

Her hand slipped into his pants, and he let his head fall against the back of the couch with a groan. He had dreamt of her so many nights on the road trip, his subconscious mind unwilling to focus on anything else.

As her soft fingers wrapped around him, she continued to grind her hips against his. 

He made his arms move, even though he felt paralyzed with pleasure. He wanted to return the favor so badly. Kissing Sarah was - kissing her was heaven, but he wanted to rocket her into outer space.

“Can I?” he asked, tucking his fingers behind the button of her jeans. 

“Please,” her voice was a breathy moan that made his hair stand on end. He filed the sound into the box of things he never wanted to forget. 

He deftly flicked open the button and drew down the zipper to give himself more room. Her underwear was green and smooth, but he couldn’t see more. Pausing to shimmy her out of her pants seemed like too much work, so he slid his hand beneath her clothing, fingers seeking. Her skin was hot and, when he found the apex of her thighs, so wet. Had he done this to her? The thought made him a little dizzy. 

When he pressed his fingers against her, overstimulation, verging on pain, shot through her, and Sarah couldn’t stop the squeak from escaping her mouth, the way her hips jumped back to stop the pain, or the grimace that overtook her face. 

Quinn immediately pulled away, “did I hurt you?” His chest felt hollow at the very prospect. The first time he’d really touched her and he hurt her?

“I…” she took a deep breath, readjusting her hand around him. A bolt of electricity shot up his stomach that he tried to ignore. 

“My clit is really sensitive,” she said quietly, as if it was something to be ashamed of. “I like it gentle.” 

"Okay." 

Gentle. He could be gentle. Bringing his fingers back to her slick folds, he grazed and stroked, keeping his touch light. 

Had other women he’d been with felt like this? He hoped they hadn’t and just been too afraid to tell him. 

Her hand began sliding over his length again, and he had to divide his concentration -  half on how good she felt wrapped around him, and the other half on keeping his touch light against her. 

“Okay?” he asked. 

In response her head tipped forward, eyes fluttering closed, mouth open, breath panting in rhythm. Sarah gulped and nodded, “yes.” 

Relief washed through him. 

He was mesmerized watching her face. A pink hue had flushed her skin, and she glowed like a goddess. Like that, the available part of his brain sifted through thoughts, trying to remember from his Greek mythology class. Like that woman - something of Troy - who launched a thousand ships to war over her beauty. Quinn would gladly wage a war for Sarah if she asked.

As Sarah touched him, she hoped she was doing it the way he liked.

“Good?” she asked, tightening her grip a fraction. 

“So good," he groaned, "You feel so good.” 

After a few more minutes, Sarah felt like she might explode - combust into a thousand tiny pieces. “I’m close,” she whispered. 

His fingers immediately sped up, pressing a little harder. 

“No,” the word fell out of her mouth like a lament. 

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, “what? What’s wrong?” 

Her eyes were screwed shut in concentration as if she was trying to remember something that had just escaped her mind. 

“You sped up,” she said, muscles relaxing, finally resigned to the fact that her high had ebbed away.

His fingers stopped all together “I thought,” he gulped, “I thought that’s what you needed?” He felt like a fool. He’d done this before. Women liked when you sped up or pressed harder to get them off. Didn’t they?

She shook her head, and looked into his eyes. Her expression was gentle, but he felt like he’d just been socked in the stomach. 

“Men like that usually,” she said, her hand slowing to a gentle stop. The pressure of his impending release escaped, and his body sagged. 

“I’m sure some women do too, but I like a steady rhythm. If you speed up, or press harder, or go nuts, the feeling just goes,” she made a blooming gesture with her free hand, “poof.”  

Sarah saw the moment competitive determination came into Quinn’s expression.

He nodded and reset his mental game plan. He was an athlete. If he knew anything, he knew how to be coached into doing something better. “So if I keep it steady and gentle, you’ll come?” 

“Probably.” 

“Probably?” he repeated, aghast. 

“Women are different from men,” she said. “All you need is pressure.” She demonstrated her point by flexing her grip around him. 

He gasped.

“For women, it’s not as easy. There are more factors, and we’re more… complex.”

He looked defeated. 

“But, soft and steady is usually good for me,” she said. “That’s what I do and it almost always works.” 

The image that conjured up of her touching herself made Quinn blush with desire. 

She leaned in and caught his mouth in a kiss, hoping to stoke the fire that had been dancing between them. It worked like a charm. His mouth and his fingers came back to life, kissing and gliding. Her body began to hum with pleasure again almost instantly.

She moaned something into his mouth. 

“What?” he asked, barely breaking the kiss enough to whisper against her lips. 

Her free hand gripped his shoulder, and her hips rocked into his hand, seeking as she moaned. The sound shot straight to his groin. 

“Like that,” she finally managed to say, “just like that.” 

God, she was so beautiful. Way more beautiful than even whatever her name of Troy was.

He went back to kissing her, his own hips seeking her hand now. 

“I’m so close,” she whispered into his mouth. 

Biting back his first instinct to drive her off the cliff, he kept his motions and pressure steady. 

She broke away from the kiss to let her head lull back. 

His mouth went to the now exposed skin of her neck, adding to the sensations filling her body. 

“Quinn,” she gasped.

He was already so close, and hearing her pleasure drove him to the edge until he crashed over it. Groaning as the feeling rippled through his body. 

Somehow, he managed to keep his fingers moving through it. 

“Oh, Quinn!” her words cut off abruptly and she trembled above him, hips pressed forward, extending her pleasure until it snapped like a rubber band.

She collapsed against him, heavy breathing crashing into his neck. 

“Oh my god,” she said as she felt her release pool into his fingers.

“Yeah,” he gasped. 

After a few more minutes of basking in the afterglow, she sat up, and looked into his eyes. Her face was serious. “No one has ever made me come like that but me,” she admitted. 

Quinn felt his chest swell with pride, and the smile that took over his face was genuine and sweet. 

“No one has ever taken what I tell them to heart like that.” 

Sudden fury turned his vision red, “you’ve told other guys what to do and they haven’t done it?” 

“Well, it’s more like most of them don’t really notice I’m uncomfortable and plow ahead.”

“Assholes.”

She laughed, suddenly loud, “pretty much."

Leaning in she kissed him, gentler this time. 

“Thank you for paying attention and listening to what I needed.” 

“That’s easy. I wish more women would just say what they want. It made my job a hell of a lot easier,” he confessed. 

He finally extracted his hand from her underwear. His fingers were wet. He wasn’t sure what to do with them. 

Sarah giggled as she did the same. 

“I’m gonna go wash up,” she said, sliding off his lap, her jeans riding low with the undone button. They slid down her hips a little more as she walked away, exposing sheer lace panels on the sides of her hips. 

Quinn dropped his head against the back of the couch and relived the past few minutes again, smiling to himself. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #quinn hughes smut #Quinn & Sarah Snapshots #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey romance

[lulublack90]

Prompt - Ticket

@jegulus-microfic December 29 Word count 671

“Where’s my ticket?” James grumbled as he scrolled through hundreds of emails, trying to find it. He kept every single email he ever got. It drove Remus mad. “I swear it was so much easier when they sent you an actual real-life ticket.” He was still grumbling at his phone.

“It was only easier for you, James because they got sent to me, so you never had to worry where you put it. Honestly, if you’d had them we’d never have gone to any concerts.” Remus huffed. 

James was still scrolling, only half listening to Remus. Remus had had enough. He plucked James’s phone out of his hand and used the search option in the email app. “There you go, and I’ve sent it over to my account as well and taken a screenshot of it. You have zero way of losing it now.” Remus looked up, “Though knowing you, you’ll still manage.” James chuckled fondly.

“Yeah, yeah. You love me, I know. Right, are we ready then?”

Remus grabbed James’s keys and wallet and locked up the flat before they set off for the bus stop. 

It didn’t take them long to get to the venue. They were seeing a relatively new band, Fighting the Stars.

They somehow managed to get stood at the front of the crowd, almost touching the stage. 

The band emerged from the sides, and the plinks and bangs of instrument checks started. Then, a long-haired, skinny man walked to the microphone. Remus let out a small gasp. 

“Hello,” He said, his voice silky and smooth. “I’m Sirius, and this,” He gestured to the man with the guitar standing in shadow. “Is my brother Regulus, and we,” He swung his arms to show the rest of the band. “Are Fighting the Stars!”

They started playing. They were good, really good. James was bobbing along and enjoying the dramatic movements of Sirius as he belted out the lyrics. He turned to Remus to see what he thought. But he was stood still, his eyes locked on Sirius, enchanted.

James rolled his eyes and went back to watching the stage. Sirius had pulled the mic out of the stand and was trying to drag his brother forward. There was a slight scuffle between them. Neither missed a word or a chord, but in the end, Sirius won. Regulus wandered into the light. James felt his jaw drop. He didn’t think it was a real thing, just something films did to the main characters. But it happened. 

Regulus caught him staring. He raised his eyebrows and gave him a little knowing smirk before winking at him. 

James and Remus spent the rest of the set spellbound, unable to move. 

Sirius called goodnight to the crowd as the band walked off stage. James and Remus’s heads followed the brothers until they were out of sight. They both let out a huff of air like they’d forgotten to breathe. 

“Well, that was something,” James murmured. Remus couldn’t talk at all and just nodded. 

Before they could say anything else, Sirius’s head popped back around the curtain. He looked right at Remus, waved and beckoned him over. Remus turned to James and shrugged his shoulders before scrambling up onto the stage and disappearing with Sirius. 

James looked at the shadowy exit Remus left through, hoping, then sighed and pulled out his phone to text Remus that he was going home. When he looked back up, Regulus was watching him, barely visible. He didn’t come out past the curtain as Sirius had. James felt his heart skip a beat. Yet another film moment he hadn’t realised was real. 

Regulus crooked one finger at him. As though an invisible line was attached to his navel tugging him forward and towards the waiting Regulus, he started walking. 

Oh well, he thought, I couldn’t have gone home anyway. Remus has my keys.

He followed Regulus into the back. He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad idea, but he was doing it anyway.  

#december 29 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #james fleamont potter #regulus arcturus black #regulus x james #james x regulus #Ticket

[differenteagletragedy]

Drunk dial from Cove and Derek

What if you were in college and your two best boys called you up while wasted? Wouldn't that be a nice little surprise?

Different colored text to simulate multiple choices, just for funzies. Brief she/her pronouns, just because Derek has to say "hey gal" or what's the point. Ok bye!

You sighed deeply, looking over the mess of papers and books strewn all over your tiny twin bed. You had your textbook, quizzes and exams from earlier in the semester and the notes you'd taken in class.

You had a history midterm in the morning, and either you were going to take it or it was going to take you.

You were worried. You were kind of a slacker and hadn't been doing too well, but this class was part of your general education requirement so failing wasn't really an option.

You were worried. You'd been diligent about note-taking and felt like you had a solid grasp on the material, but it was a big test.

You weren't exactly worried -- you're kind of a nerd for this stuff, and felt confident that you were prepared and would do well, but was there really such a thing as being too prepared?

As you read over what your professor had said would be covered on the test, you glanced at the clock. It was nearing 1:00 AM, but your class wasn't until 9:00, and you'd definitely gotten less sleep since you started college a few years ago. You settled in a little bit, pulling your knees up to your chest and getting cozy so you could delve back into the finer points of the Revolutionary War.

Then your phone started to ring.

Curious about who could be calling so late, you reached over to snatch your phone up out of the mess of papers. You smiled when you saw your best friend's name pop up on the screen, waiting for you to accept the video call.

You answered the call, preparing a joke about how your early bird bestie would not be getting the worm in the morning after calling at this hour, but Cove had other plans.

"Heeeeey, y/n," he said, smiling sloppily. His voice was a little too loud, his tongue was a little too loose, and he let out a little giggle even though nothing was, as far as you could tell, particularly funny.

Cove was drunk. Like, really drunk.

"How are you doing there, bud?" you asked, smirking. Cove didn't drink much, but when he did it was always a sight to see.

"Good, good. I -- no, listen. Y/n. Are you -- hey. I've got a surprise."

Proud that he managed to get out a coherent thought, you raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit like you were indulging a small child and wordless inviting him to go on.

"Are you ready? I want ... no, be quiet," he said, looking off to his side. For the first time, you heard a deep chuckle. Someone else was with him, and you didn't have to put too much work into finding out who.

"Derek's back!" you said cheerfully, laughing as Cove clumsily turned his phone so you could see another old friend sitting right beside him.

"Hey, gal," he said, grinning easily. "Do you have anything you'd maybe like to say to me today that you couldn't say on another day because it wouldn't be true on another day, a well wisher, or ... wait, that's not ..." he trailed off, turning to Cove. "What am I saying?"

So Derek was drunk too.

You knew what he was trying to get at though -- it was his birthday! His 21st birthday, to be exact. You'd called him earlier in the day to chat, but it wouldn't hurt to give the birthday boy more special attention.

You realized at once what he meant -- you'd totally forgotten, but of course it was his birthday.

"Happy birthday," you told him, and he closed his eyes blissfully.

"Here's what I did, I'll tell you," Cove said, bringing the phone closer to his face but holding it far enough that you could see Derek swaying happily. "I did -- I knew it was his birthday. And I don't have to work tomorrow because I'm off ... I'm off work tomorrow."

Cove was never exactly an eloquent man, but Drunk Cove was an absolute disaster.

"So I said -- do you know what I said, y/n? I said, 'It's Derek's birthday and he's turning 21 and that means ... y'n, that means he can legally drink,"

"Does it?" you asked, content to watch your buddies be silly.

"Yeah, it's the law," he answered, and you thought you caught an eye roll. "So I said, 'I'm gonna go see Derek and take him out for his first drink.' And I did -- I did do that."

"Y/n," Derek said, grabbing Cove's wrist to twist the phone back in his direction. "Did you know people are so nice to you on your birthday? People gave me so many drinks and most of them were gross but I drank them anyway because --

"It's a rite of passage," Cove cut him off. "That's what my dad said. He said -- Derek, he said that you take your friends out on their special birthdays."

"Your dad condoned this?" you asked,

"Well, kind of, but it got -- listen, it's -- ok, so ..."

You listened as Cove started and stopped a weird string of sentences about how he'd hopped in his car and drove up to Derek's college to surprise him on his 21st birthday. Derek, ever the good boy, hadn't had any plans for debauchery, but it seems like Mr. Holden had told Cove about the tradition of getting your pals wasted when they turn 21, and your two childhood best friends found themselves at a bar near Derek's school.

They took turns telling you stories about their night out, but when Cove started going on a disjointed tangent about Long Island iced teas -- which, he complained, did not taste like iced tea but instead fire accelerant -- you saw Derek starting to look a bit sleepy, even with a smile still plastered to his face.

"You doing all right, Derek?" you asked him.

"You're so pretty," he answered happily. "You look like an angel. You don't have a wings or a halo or ... you know what i mean. Pretty."

Before you could react, Cove looked over at him and said, "I think y/n is pretty like a mermaid."

"She doesn't have a tail," he argued.

"No, I know -- obviously she doesn't -- but you know, like sea creatures, like the ocean," Cove argued, not very successfully.

"Maybe she's pretty like a goddess," Derek supplied. "Like a Greek goddess and she sits on Mount Olympus and people fight wars and build fake horses over her and she can have babies from her forehead and there are statues in museums and everyone's like, 'Wow, that sculptor forgot an arm but look how pretty.'"

"Pretty like -- like a siren," Cove said, sticking with sea creatures. "And she like sits on a rock and all these sailors want -- everyone wants to talk to her because pretty. But there's not ... is that the one with the bird stuff?"

"I don't want y/n to have bird stuff," Derek pouted.

You laughed. Your friends were too sweet (and kind of dumb right now).

You laughed, but you felt a light blush pop up on your cheeks as well. Did Cove really think you were that pretty?

You smiled. You'd always had a bit of a crush on Derek, and it made you feel good that he thought you looked nice.

You wished you were in the same room as them more than anything. Cove and Derek had both grown up pretty darn attractive themselves, and it sure would be nice to be in the middle of that sandwich.

As fun as the phone call was, you really did need to get back to studying. You also weren't sure if your friends would even remember this phone call in the morning.

After getting Derek to stop rambling and Cove to put together enough words to work for a an acceptable goodbye, you went to hang up.

"Y/n, wait," Cove said, and you paused.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?"

#olba #cove holden #derek suarez #olba derek #our life beginnings and always #olba mc #olba cove #our life

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Unfaithful

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Summary: Request

You've been cheated on by your husband. You're a bit older than Joe. You're nursing your sorrows at the bar and he shows up, offering to buy you a drink and to help you forget all about that dick of a husband.

18+ Only

Men sucked. You sat at the bar, nursing your Jack and Coke, ruminating on the shitshow your life had suddenly become. This morning you had headed off to work thinking you were happily married. Maybe not overjoyed about it but definitely content. No marriage was perfect but you’d thought the two of you were doing okay. This evening, you learned your husband wasn’t as happily married as you were. 

Her name was Layla and she was his secretary. His secretary that was twelve years younger than you, a perky and youthful 25 to your 37. They’d been sneaking around together for six months and you’d been dumb enough to fall for it. You’d believed him when he said he had to work late or go out of town for a meeting. It was all a lie. Your marriage was nothing but a sham and you were the idiot left sitting here alone in a bar, trying to drink it all away. 

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror over the back of the bar, the fine lines that were beginning to show on your forehead and around your eyes, the gray hairs that had begun sprouting that you covered up monthly at the salon, the softer padding that had developed around your middle as you’d lacked time to keep up with your fitness routine. No wonder he’d found someone else. Look at you. You were a complete disaster. Of course he wanted someone younger, someone more beautiful, someone with a tight ass and perky breasts.

You were attempting to catch the bartender’s eye so you could order your third drink, determined to down enough liquor until you were numb, until you couldn’t feel all the anger and despair that was threatening to drown you. 

You rolled your eyes as a guy hopped onto the stool next to yours, not even bothering to glance at him. Why did he have to pick the stool right by you when there were plenty of other seating options around? You so did not feel like having to listen to some jerk pass you his best one-liners. You just wanted to be left alone to wallow in your own self-pity. 

“What are you drinking there, love?”

The soft British accent caught your attention, something you didn’t hear every day. You turned your head and were met with a pair of brown eyes that were as warm and inviting as a cup of tea on a cold evening. A bright and infectious smile graced lips that were so full and perfectly pink that you couldn’t help wondering what they would feel like pressed against your own. A tousle of brown curls topped his head, looking so soft that you itched to touch them. And that beard…the perfect length, just enough that you could almost imagine how good it would feel rubbing along your thighs. 

You shook your head. Jesus Christ! What in the hell were you doing? What was wrong with you? You were married. You’d just found out your husband was cheating on you. You were losing it. That’s all this was. Some good looking British guy was smiling at you and you were desperate to feel like anything other than the hot mess you currently were. 

He raised his eyebrows at you and you realized you’d never answered his question because you’d been so lost in how fucking attractive he was. You looked back at your empty glass before raising your eyes to his again. Shit, he really was so damn beautiful. Where did he get off looking like that? 

“Your drink?” he asked again, pointing at your glass. 

“Oh, it’s just a Jack and Coke,” you answered. 

He raised his hand, waving the bartender down, “Can I get a dirty martini with olives and can the lady get another Jack and Coke?” The bartender nodded, turning to make the drinks and the beautiful stranger held his hand out to you. “I’m Joe.”

“Y/N,” you replied, reaching for his hand. The moment your skin met, it was like shockwaves straight to your center. You pressed your thighs together, willing your body to cooperate with you. He smiled again and you noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was a genuine smile, a reach your eyes, kind of smile and when you saw the little dimple form on his cheek you melted. 

“So, just needing to be alone or out to get completely pissed?” asked Joe as the bartender set your drinks down.

“Completely what?” you questioned in confusion. “I’m not pissed. I mean, I am pissed actually but I don’t want to be pissed.”

Joe laughed and you groaned softly. Even his laugh was beautiful. It was a sincere, joyful sound that rose from his belly. You’d barely met this man but you could already tell what you saw was what you got. Or was it? You clearly hadn’t been the best judge of character as of late.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I’m British. Pissed means drunk but on that note, I am quite intrigued. What could have a beautiful lady such as yourself so pissed off?”

“A cheating, lying, dick of a husband,” you muttered, taking a long drink of your Jack and Coke before slamming it back down on the bar. 

“Well…” he replied, those eyebrows almost meeting his hairline, tiny little lines creasing his forehead. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” you sighed, shaking your head. 

“I suppose this is very bad timing on my part,” conceded Joe. “I just noticed a very lovely lady sitting all alone at the bar, no wedding ring, and I thought I would buy you a drink. I would still like to, but if you don’t want that right now, just say the word and I will go.”

You looked up at the beautiful Brit sitting next to you, sipping his martini. Fuck, you should tell him to go but you didn’t want to. Your husband was a lying, cheating bastard. What did it matter what you did? Why should you care about his feelings? You had spent the last ten years with a guy having mediocre sex at best. What would it be like to be with someone new, someone exciting, someone that was the complete opposite of your worthless husband?

“No actually,” you replied, offering him a smile as you turned on your stool to face him. “A drink with you sounds good. I could use the company.”

“Well, good,” he grinned, raising his glass to you before taking a sip. “So, can I ask what kind of moron cheated when he had a stunning wife like you at home?”

You laughed, “Yeah, well, he cheated with his secretary who is twelve years younger and a whole lot perkier than I am.” You took another drink, closing your eyes and relishing the way the liquor was loosening all the tense places within you. 

“Twelve years younger?” Joe asked, a skeptical look on his face. “How old was she? Sixteen?”

You almost choked on your drink, “Oh come on. You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think? There’s no way you think I am only 28.”

“How old are you?”

“37,” you answered, staring him down. “How old are you?”

“I’m 29.”

“Jesus,” you groaned, bringing your fingers to press against your forehead. “You’re a goddamn baby. Come on. Why are you sitting here talking to me?” You gestured around the bar with your hand. “There have got to be plenty of younger ladies here tonight that you would find far more desirable?”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he replied, spinning on his stool. He leaned back, his elbow resting on the bar. “There is not another woman here who can compare to you, darling. You caught my eye from the moment I walked in that door. And you don’t look 37.”

“Please,” you snorted. “I have lines on my face.”

“So do I,” said Joe, pointing to his forehead and the corners of his eyes. “Those are just proof of a lot of laughs and a lot of life lived.”

“Wow, you must have really good luck with the ladies,” you chuckled. “You are one smooth operator.”

Joe shrugged, “I’m not trying to be smooth, just being honest. Your husband is a real wanker for not seeing what he had right in front of him.” He leaned forward, his lips right next to your ear as his fingers trailed along your bare arm. “If you give me the chance, I can treat you the way you deserve to be treated, the way he should have treated you. Let me show you just how desirable I find you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, heat pooling between your thighs. Damn, you wanted this. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly felt desired, truly felt desire, truly felt a craving for someone. Sex with your husband had become just something you did because it was what married people do. It was a once a week thing you checked off a to-do list. You wanted passion. You wanted lust and need and longing.

“Do you live close by?” you whispered, shocked at your own forwardness, your willingness to head off with this man you didn’t even know. 

“I live across the pond but my hotel isn’t far from here,” he offered, tossing some bills on the bar as he stood and offered you his hand. You met those beautiful chocolate eyes and took it.

Joe hailed down a cab in front of the bar and you both climbed in. Those beautiful fingers, that soft hand, rested on your knee as the cab pulled away. Your skin felt like it was ablaze under his touch. You could feel how wet you already were just from the anticipation of what was to come when you got to the hotel. 

Those fingers moved along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and you gasped. The cab driver’s eyes met yours in the mirror and you worked to mask your face so he wouldn’t notice that the man next to you was under your skirt. His eyes went back to the road and you almost sighed in relief but then Joe’s fingers slid along the edge of your panties and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out. 

“Mmm…you’re so wet, love,” he whispered softly, two of those fingers moving beneath your panties and pressing into you. “Fuck, I can’t wait to know what that pussy feels like wrapped around my cock.”

Jesus Christ. You couldn’t believe how brazen he was being with the cab driver right there. You had never been one for exhibitionism but damn if it wasn’t even hotter, knowing if you couldn’t keep control that the driver would know what was happening. 

His fingers slid from within you, rubbing along your slick until he found your clit. You bit your lip so hard, you could taste the blood, fighting back the desperate urge to scream, to release this pressure cooker of ecstasy he was boiling within you. 

“You have to stay quiet,” Joe whispered as if he could read your mind. “Don’t want us to get caught.” 

The knot in your stomach tightened as those expert fingers worked you until your thighs were shaking. Then they were gone. You looked around, stunned and confused for a moment, until you noticed that you were in front of the hotel. You couldn’t get out of the cab fast enough. Joe chuckled, paying the driver, as he came around the cab and took your hand, leading you into the hotel and to the elevator. 

The doors opened and you both stepped inside. The minute they closed, he was on you, pressing you against the wall, his body molding against yours, those luscious lips moving over yours, his thigh pushing against your center. This time, you let the moan come, rocking yourself against him, desperation as you’d never known invading your body, needing release, needing him. Your fingers slid into those curls and fuck, they were just as soft as they looked. 

A soft ding sounded through the elevator as the doors slid open. Joe backed you out of the elevator, his lips never leaving yours, his hands roaming along every inch of your body as he continued moving you backward until your back was up against the door of his room. He fumbled in his back pocket until he found the key, continuing to kiss you as it took him three tries to get the door opened. 

The two of you stumbled into the room, you grabbing the bottom of his fuzzy blue sweater, pulling it over his head. Your eyes raked over his body, fit but soft in all the right places, an enticing trail of soft hair leading into his jeans. He smirked when he caught where your eyes were focused and you felt yourself flush. 

“No worries, love,” he assured, his voice thick with desire, those warm brown eyes now flashing with desire. “You’ll get to find where that trail leads soon enough but first, I need to finish what I started.”

Joe’s hands rested on your shoulders, pressing you back against the wall as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes gazed up at you as his hands slid under your skirt again, pulling your panties down your legs. You lifted one foot and then the other so he could dispatch them. 

“I am going to worship you like the queen you are, darling,” he purred, lifting your leg and propping it over his shoulder, opening you up to him. His face moved between your legs, his nose running over your clit and you whimpered, your head making a thunk against the wall as it fell back. His tongue ran from your entrance all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, I knew I had to taste you from the moment I saw you in that bar.”

Joe devoured you like a man starved. You thought you’d had a pretty good sex life but fuck, you had never felt like this before. His tongue was like nothing you’d ever known, swirling in circles, darting over your clit, sucking it between his lips before slipping down and moving within you. Your entire body shook, shockwaves of pleasure rolling through you as he tortured you to the brink of oblivion before bringing you back, only to send you there again. 

“Oh my god…” you whimpered, your fingers sliding through his hair, gripping it, pressing his face against you. You rolled your hips, rubbing yourself against him, overcome with a need for release. “Fuck, that’s so good…Jesus…”

Just as you thought it couldn’t get any better, Joe slipped two fingers inside you once again, curling and twisting them in a way you didn’t even know was possible, as he sucked your sensitive little bud between his lips like he was sucking on a jolly rancher. 

“Fuck!” you shrieked as your orgasm ripped through you, slapping the wall with your open hand so loud you hoped no one was in the room next door. Your leg shook so badly you feared you would fall but Joe’s free hand gripped your hip, offering you stability. Sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of flowed from you as Joe continued working you through the waves of your release. 

As you slowly came down, he slid up your body, his hands resting on either side of your head on the wall. A slow, sexy smile crossed his lips, “Do you feel desired, love?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, hands resting on his shoulders since you still didn’t trust your legs. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“It’s not that hard,” he offered, his lips trailing kisses along the side of your neck. “Some men don’t concern themselves with ensuring their lady leaves satisfied. I do.” He grabbed your shirt, pulling it over your head and then made quick work of your bra. “I find the most pleasure in making sure the woman I am with has her needs met.” Those lips headed south, moving over your breasts, taking your nipple between them. “There is nothing more sexy than listening to the sounds of pleasure a woman makes, the faces she makes when she’s enjoying herself.”

“And what about you? I believe I was told I could find out what that trail led to,” you mused, bringing his face back to yours so you could kiss him. You slid your tongue past his lips, moaning into his mouth at the taste of him, vermouth, olives, and cigarettes as your fingers worked at the button on his jeans. 

You pushed his jeans and his boxers down over his hips, breaking from the kiss so you could see the treasure you’d uncovered. Shit, everything about this man was beautiful. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his cock, gripping him as you moved it along his length. 

Joe groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, “Bloody hell, darling. I need to know what that pretty little pussy feels like.”

He grabbed your waist, tossing you onto the bed. Joe slid a condom on and then climbed over you, his lips moving along your neck again, his hard length pressing into you. You wound your legs around his hips, needing to know what that glorious cock felt like filling you up. Joe’s hand grabbed your wrists, holding them together as his other hand guided himself to your entrance. He pressed into your slowly, his eyes focused on yours the entire time. 

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing and relishing the feel of your bodies coming together in sweet perfection. “Joe…” 

“Jesus, you feel even better than I imagined,” he groaned as he began to move his hips, his cock stretching you completely. 

Your hands came up to rest on his back, your fingers feeling along his shoulder blades. He was moving agonizingly slow, drawing out the experience. It felt incredible but you were also aching for him to move faster, harder, to completely take you, own you, make you his. 

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, rocking your hips in an effort to show him what you needed. 

“Words, darling,” he urged, that little smirk playing at his lips, causing that dimple you wanted to dive into to appear on his cheek once again. 

“Joe, faster…harder…please…fuck me,” you managed. 

“Your wish is my command, love,” growled Joe, he thrust into you with force. The bed began to rock, audibly hitting the wall and you cried out in relief. “Tell me, darling. How does that feel?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” you panted, your nails raking along the skin of his back, causing him to hiss. 

Joe gripped your calf, lifting your leg up by your ear and you cried out in pleasure as this new angle created sensations you’d never experienced before. His other hand released your wrists, gripping the headboard as he drove into you again and again, your bodies colliding over and over in a frenzied blur of want and lust. 

“Shit, darling, I’m close,” he rumbled. “Come for me, love. Touch yourself. Come for me again.”

You obeyed, your hand snaking between your bodies, your finger finding your clit and working over it. It didn’t take much. Joe had you so wound up, your body was just aching to let go again. Your entire body tensed, back arching, as your second orgasm rolled through you. 

“That’s a good girl,” praised Joe, thrusting once, twice, and then his body stilled, pressing into you, his grip on your leg tightening and you felt as every muscle in him went taut with his release, a strangled roar rising from within his chest. 

His body shuddered over you and his head dipped down, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. He rose from the bed, disposing of the condom, before lying down next to you, his arm resting over his head, releasing a long, slow breath of satisfaction. 

You glanced over at him before sitting up, looking for where your clothes had wound up. This had been amazing but it was what it was, a one night stand. You were sure he was ready to be done with you now. You told yourself that was okay but the truth was, you wanted more of him. You’d never had sex like that before. It was…earth shattering, life changing. It was like nothing you’d ever known and neither was the man. There was something so comforting about him. You’d just met him but for some reason you trusted him. 

“Hey, what you doing there, darling?” he asked, reaching out for you and pulling you down against him, your head resting against his chest. “You’re not thinking of leaving already, are you?”

“Oh, I mean…I just assumed…this was a one time thing. I don’t want to make it more complicated than it is.”

Those eyes looked down at you as he lifted his head, “Do you want this to be a one time thing?”

“Isn’t that what this is? I mean…I thought that’s what you thought it was.”

“I thought you might stay over,” he said with a smile. “I thought we might order some room service for breakfast, maybe have a repeat of what just happened, and then you could show me around your city for the day. How does that sound?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hide how delighted that made you, “That sounds pretty good, actually.”

“Good,” Joe said, his finger bringing your chin up so he could kiss you again before he gathered you in his arms. “I quite like you, you know. I’d like to get to know you better. I’d like to show you how a real man treats a lady.”

You laughed softly, “Trust me, you already have.”

#joe quinn #joe quinn smut #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x reader

[meaningofaeons]

I know you must be pretty busy right now considering that you probably have a lot of requests but do you mind writing hanahaki disease au with Gepard and Sampo (separately)? Mb Natasha too if you write for her but that's completely optional! I'm just a sucker for pining 😞 They know reader for a long time but for some reason never made a move (well maybe Sampo did but reader thought he was just being his usual flirty self) but then reader got closer to someone else and they misunderstood and got jealous and the whole hanahaki thing happened

Thank you!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ blooming regrets

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 1.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, hanahaki disease (character is diseased, not reader)/mentioned gore, angst just angst I'm sorry, a bit open-ended

hi anon! thanks for the req!! unfortunately I do not write for natasha but I'm happy to do the req for sampo and gepard (=^･ω･^=) I debated between ending this with angst or hurt/comfort but since you didn't specify I went for pure (but a Little open-ended?) angst hoohoo.. sorry it's kinda short ;w; ty again!!

⊹ Gepard Landau

His cough really wasn't a big deal.

He assured his fellow Silvermane Guards, his sister, even the newly-appointed Supreme Guardian Bronya Rand near-daily.

It was a cold. Just got something stuck in his throat. Ah, he just had a drink of water, and it went down the wrong pipe.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards cannot afford to be unwell, not for a second. If he had a fever, he'd push past it. If he got a headache, he'd keep his focus on the job at hand and ignore his pain. No matter what it was, it wouldn't put him down, and this cough, while persistent, was no exception.

The excuses worked at first, but not for long.

And they certainly didn't work on you.

"I might not know the Supreme Guardian, but surely she's going to listen if I beg for you to be given a break. Ever since the Astral Express crew left, the Fragmentum has receded more than before. Surely you can—"

"Y/N, I told you, it's just a minor cold. I'm fine. Just fine."

You raised a brow.

"This cough has only gotten worse since you first had it, Gepard! That's no simple cold. If you really want me to stop bothering you, at least go to the doctor and get yourself checked out."

In an attempt to appease you, the man had agreed, finding himself trudging to the one place he wanted to avoid.

If the doctor diagnosed him, then it became real that he had some sort of illness, and that would only be a hindrance. Not only to his duties, but to you...

Still, if going to be examined would make you happy... he'd do it.

The man would do anything for you.

And it seems that this was the problem all along.

"M-Mr. Landau..." the physician reentered the room after a short moment to look over his tests, anxiously fiddling with the paperwork. Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"It's okay, I can take it," Gepard answered confidently, folding his hands as he stifled another cough. "Any treatment is fine, as long as I can get back to work as soon as possible."

The physician's face crumbled, and the Captain felt his pulse run cold.

Was it... worse than he thought?

"I'm... I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'm afraid this is not something you may want treated."

What does that even mean?

"Of course I do! Just..." Gepard calmed himself, slumping onto the examination bed again. "Just let me know what it is."

"Sir... you have contracted an incredibly rare disease. With the onset of the Eternal Freeze and the extinction of many botanical-related illnesses and plants, many medical experts considered it impossible for this disease to return, and many wrote it off as gone for good. But..."

He turned a paper containing an x-ray of the Captain's chest.

A small root dug its way up inside his lung, and the blonde froze.

"It's called Hanahaki... and it originates from love. Unrequited love. And the only cure, I fear, is... to have your love for the one that afflicted this removed for good."

—

Against all odds, Gepard had taken the time off that he desperately needed.

Though Supreme Guardian Bronya was shocked at first by his submission to the advice of everyone around him, she could not bring herself to question the man when he coughed again—seeing that crimson red sprout up that he desperately tried to hide.

Knowledge that hanahaki was still in existence would bring panic to the masses. Gepard knew this. He kept himself hidden, out of sight. Not even to see you did he leave his home.

After all, even that simple action alone would hasten his disease.

He still had a duty. He told himself that over and over, slamming it into his mind. The surgery to remove the roots was all but essential.

Gazing out of the Landau home's window, seeing you walking down the street with a smile on his face... his heart panged, though.

He couldn't do it.

Loving you was painful, but the thought of losing that emotion towards you wrought even further pain upon him.

It was then that he saw a stranger at your side. Well, not quite—he'd seen them around with you before, talking to you, laughing with you, taking your hand as they led you around town.

Just as they did in that moment.

An uncomfortable feeling rose in Gepard's throat, and he began hacking into his hand once again, collapsing as he clutched the windowsill for stability.

A small, blood-soaked periwinkle fell right into his waiting hand.

Yet somehow, it felt as though his chest hurt for reasons far deeper than the flowers taking hold of his lungs with each passing moment.

⊹ Sampo Koski

Sampo wasn't one to instill concern in anyone.

Even for those who genuinely cared for him, though they were few and far between, it was always the same thought.

"It's Sampo. What could possibly happen to him?"

Of course, there's always the joking thought that one day, all his disgruntled customers and scammed victims will come back to wreak vengeance. But really, this happened every other week.

And Sampo was always fine.

So, when he sat in front of a very distraught Natasha, something felt terribly, horribly wrong.

"H-Heyyy, Nat! Come on, now, you can tell Sampo all the details of this little cough!" he chuckled, though it was punctuated by said hacking. "It can't be too bad, eh?"

Usually, his joking would elicit even just a small chuckle from the woman. But she nearly trembled when picking up her notes, rereading them over and over as though to confirm the information she already knew.

"Sampo..." she murmured. "Is there... someone you love?"

Though he could crack another jest, ask if Miss Natasha of all people was coming onto him, he saw the look in her eye, and swallowed another choke.

"Erm..."

Of course, in spite of his hesitation in speech, his mind had none at all.

Your face came to mind at once, bright, smiling, overjoyed. The way your brow would pull when he got into a scuffle and came to you all banged up, or the way you'd laugh at his latest scheme to trick some no-good vagrants into a 'package deal' scam.

Your energy, your voice, your touch. Everything flooded into his senses, and he smiled despite himself, despite the situation.

"Well..."

"If you're thinking of lying, save it," Natasha managed a strained laugh. "I think we both know from that silly grin that you have someone in mind. And I know... I think I know exactly who it is."

"But what've they got to do with my 'lil cold? Don't tell me... My only cure is to have my beloved Y/N nurse me back to health?!" Sampo clasped his hands together, making goo-goo eyes at Natasha.

He had assumed the mood to be lightened, but her eyes only darkened again.

"Sampo... this disease... it's—"

Her prognosis was punctuated by another cough from the conman—this time wet, uncomfortable, as blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He was about to continue her sentence for her to throw in a joke, to reassure him that he was used to such minor amounts of blood, when something rose up his throat and into his mouth, cutting off his words.

Loosening his jaw, a purple and pink hyacinth landed right in his palm. Natasha was so pale, she might as well have been a ghost.

"What's..."

For once in his life, even the Sampo Koski was stumped.

"Hanahaki..." Natasha whispered, covering her mouth.

"What?!" Sampo's head snapped up, flicking between the doctor and the flower. "That's... That's a myth that kids get told so they confess their feelings quicker, so they don't chicken out. C-Come on, Miss Nat, that's not—"

She shook her head, and Sampo paused, staring at the flower.

"I've gotta clear my head."

"Sampo!"

The conman was to his feet in an instant, speed-walking out of the clinic faster than he ever thought his legs could take him. He didn't really know where he needed to go, but he knew he had to see you.

Seeing your face would put that warm, fuzzy, butterfly-like feeling right back in his chest. It would replace all this pain crawling into his lungs, his throat, not worsen it.

But when he saw you approach with your friend in tow, it felt like his chest had been stabbed straight through.

"Sampo! I heard you saw Nat today. You okay?"

"Y-Yeah!" Sampo was quick on the uptake, hiding the flower and swiping a hand over his mouth swiftly in case of any leftover blood. "You know me, just'a coupl'a bangs and scrapes from the latest 'customer'. You know how it is for ol' Sampo!"

You chuckled lightly.

"Well, that's good. Just don't go scamming any good people now, huh?" Your friend tugged your arm, giving Sampo an apologetic smile—something that dug up an even more foreign emotion within him. "Ah, right. I'm sorry, Sampo, we have plans today. But let's spend some time at the Great Mine some other time, huh?"

"No problemo! Sampo never skimps out on plans, and he never leaves a friend hanging! I'll see you then, Y/N."

You left with one last laugh and a smile.

Sampo's own smile slowly fell the moment you vanished from view... and he stared at the pink-and-purple hyacinth in his hand.

He recalled what they meant when Natasha had told him once, explaining all the intricacies of flower language if he were to ever give a 'special someone' a bouquet one day...

Joy, fresh starts, new love... But the purple?

That could only mean regret.

The conman threw the flower to the ground and stalked away, but not before trampling the bud.

As if he could ever regret something like loving you.

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