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laneywrld · 2 days

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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him.

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track.

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people.

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships.

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her.

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone?

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again.

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously.

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower.

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed.

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him.

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body.

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin.

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship.

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay."

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck.

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay."

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly.

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back.

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck.

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle.

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same.

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications.

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him.

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes.

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him.

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending.

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment.

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile.

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place.

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips.

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto.

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically.

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door.

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves.

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile.

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head.

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her.

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place.

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones."

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!"

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race.

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is.

That anger got him P3.

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours.

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed.

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him.

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet.

"Can you walk?"

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights.

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't.

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that.

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't."

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes.

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other.

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks.

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress.

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair.

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room.

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing.

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone.

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears.

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls.

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours.

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do."

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her.

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire.

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force.

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis.

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness.

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt.

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase.

"Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator.

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob.

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much.

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness.

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions.

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood.

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel.

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds.

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away.

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since.

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants.

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile.

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure.

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him.

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating.

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man.

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people.

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons.

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart.

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit.

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too.

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all.

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !!

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash.

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door.

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome.

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door.

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest.

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes.

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues.

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces.

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did."

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more."

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you."

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining.

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

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barcaatthemoon · 10 hours

Text

be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||

you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.

you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.

in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.

you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.

'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.

it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.

"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.

"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."

"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.

…

"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.

"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.

"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"

"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.

"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.

she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.

…

"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.

"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."

"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."

"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."

"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.

ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.

you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.

"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."

"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."

"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."

"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."

"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."

"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.

your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.

"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"

frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.

"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."

"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #frido rolfo imagine #frido rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfo imagine #fridolina rolfo x reader

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4imhry · 2 days

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plush thighs <3

your thighs. your plush thighs are turning him on. so bad. you can be wearing shorts, trousers, pyjama pants or hardly anything and he will still get turned on by them. but right now, you were wearing a tight, thin yoga shorts. it wasn’t helping his hormones at all. you were sleeping with your back facing him, ass pressing so close to his raging hard on. his pre cum were literally oozing from his boxers.

“ugh..look what you do to me princess.” he said as he softly squish your ass.

toji can’t help but kept thinking of how pathetic he was from his cock erected by seeing your plushy thighs alone. he grunted softly as he palm himself through his grey pants. fuck. he needed you. wanted that sweet tight cunt of yours sucking his whole big cock as he kept kissing your cervix with his fat tip, wanted to wake you up with his cum gushing out of your pussy. (but he actually doesn’t want to)

he moaned as he immediately took off his pants, instantly rutting between your ass like an animal in heat. his huge hands found it’s place on your waist as he rut himself between your ass, the tip rubbing your clit as well. his speed was painfully slow for him because he didn’t want to wake you up from your deep slumber. his long cock was enough to reach the front of your cunt.

the tip of his cock often making contact with your drenching folds—mixed with his pre cum was torture for a lad named, toji. frequent chants of your name as he keep going, and going as his pre cum dripping from his thick veiny cock smeared all over the front of your tight yoga pants.

“so.fucking.hot.” he said as keep rolling his body against yours.

his movements slightly halted when you shifted in your sleep, clenching your thighs together unconsciously which applies more pressure to his cock. your murmured something incoherent but he shrugged it off, his two big palms slightly tighten its grip on your hips as he kept sliding, and rubbing his cock against your drenched cunt. “mmh haaah–fuck.”

he kept humping, humping and humping desperately to reach his orgasm. the thought of using you while you’re sleeping and the feeling of his swollen tip often rubbing against your soaking clit–the tip occasionally got inside your cunt slightly made him want to cum so bad. “o-ohh..y-yes haaaah.”

“want to c-cum.” he heaved as he keep rutting against you like a rabbit in heat. the sound of his groans and small whines filled the room while he sinfully rut his cock between your thighs.

“toji..” you lowly moaned when his movement accelerated, waking you up in process.

“baby, i-im sorry—haaah..ngh.” his thrusts becomes sloppy, the veins aligning his cock became even more prominent and his pinkish tip was on the edge of exploding anytime soon. he pulled you even closer to his body, your back pressed flush against his chest as he kept humping you. toji was intoxicated. too intoxicated with you to not have any sexual intercourse every time he saw those damn plushy thighs that drove him insane.

loud moans of his name erupted from your lips, increasing his ego knowing he made you feel good.

“does that feels good, baby?” his voice were hoarse and husky, adding even more fuel to the aching feeling in your cunt. his other hand sneaked to your breasts, squishing and fondle with your nipples while the other hand kept a tight grip on your hip, his hips now sensually humping your thighs in a godly speed which caused your to roll your eye due to the immense pleasure he gave you.

“t-toji! mmph...” his swollen cockhead was rubbing against your cunt–your arousal seeping out from your yoga pants. he went ballistic on you as soon as he realised you’re completely awake. he ended up cumming a few minutes after, thick rope of cums smearing the bedsheet. though he got hard again when you sensually grind yourself on him, feeling extremely horny because your man just can’t take his eyes–hands off of you.

oh boy, you were in for a longggggggg ride.

#fushiguro toji #jujutsu toji #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk toji #dilf toji #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji imagine #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji headcanons

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lbxbx · 1 day

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Blackmail 4 | Kth

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

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“Come on in.” He tilts his head inviting you on the inside, you’re a little taken back when you see a full handbag stuffed with cameras and Go-pros, microphones and even spare batteries and chargers. “I didn’t know you took things that seriously.” You force a laugh and take a step inside, you approach the bag and reach your hand for one of the Go-pros. “How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.” He laughs, opening up the mini bar and grabbing out a bottle of sparkling water to hand it to you, “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”

You grab the water bottle and avoid his eyes, you can’t look at him anymore and you know everything changed for the worse. To you he’s this manipulative sex addict who either needs to be helped or put in jail. Things can never go back to normal with him.

“Oh, don’t get too excited, they’re just matching bra and panties.” You put the Go-pro down and unscrew the cap of your water. “Can you show me how this goes?”

“Sure, come here.” He sits in front of his iPad and grabs you a chair next to him, you hesitate before sitting down and watching what he does on his device, “I would’ve showed you how exactly I edit things, but our night with Jungkook wasn’t filmed like at all. I think I have something else unedited I’ll show it to you.”

You got lucky this time, even we you’re about to be filmed with your consent, but at least this time you were trying to get your revenge somehow.

And in seconds he digs out a couple of files that are titled to the date back when you were in the states weeks ago, it makes you think, he has several partners at once? He fucked you raw after he fucked someone else?

“Taehyung is this new?”

“Yeah, it’s back in LA, she was a local we met in a pool party—“

“How can you know that you’re fucking people who are safe?” You’re genuinely worried, for all you know you could be carrying a certain disease right now and you still haven’t showed any symptoms.

“Oh unclench. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffs and turns towards his phone that’s buzzing when someone calls him. “I have to take this, be right back.” He pulls his chair back and gets into the bathroom locking the door behind him.

You hurriedly grab your phone out and take pictures of the handbag that’s stuffed to the brim with cameras, you snap other pictures of the memory cards and the iPad screen, making sure to be quick before he leaves the bathroom.

You flip through the folders on his iPad to finally find the video from back when you two were in London, the video is freaking 38 minutes and you have to be fast.

Okay Y/N you have to be quick, we’re totally skipping the parts he was being all lovey dovey and try and find the parts where he was cuffing you or blindfolding you, it’s not long after the beginning and you film that on your phone, skipping again to reach the parts where he forced you on things and used the belt, the parts where he spanked you with it, you look around the frame hoping you’d find anything to make the video go faster but there isn’t anything. You hear the bathroom door unlocking fast enough for you to exit the video and fall back onto your chair and hold your breath. Your hands locking your phone from under the coffee table.

He looks at you suspiciously for a second, squinting his eyes, before he comes in closer to lock the iPad and get back into the bathroom to finish his call. Your hand sits on your chest when you feel your heart racing, you’re convinced you have enough evidence now and you can’t risk being caught anymore.

You encourage yourself on the inside that it’s just one last time, one last night with him before you try and get everything you want before proceeding with your plan.

He finally exits the bathroom and puts his phone down. “I need to be somewhere in an hour, you think you can be quick?”

“We can cancel tonight if you want to—“

“No.” And he doesn’t ever offer further explanation, he takes his shirt off and inches closer to you to put his hands on your hips. “You know I have to confess something.”

“What? Did you film me again?” You can hardly trust him anymore. Your hands barely sit on his chest and honestly Taehyung was really smart when it came to your body language, he can easily feel that you’re uncomfortable and you’re trying to keep distance between your bodies. The way your hands move abruptly before finally landing on his chest makes him look you in the eyes for a second without saying a single word.

“What?” You clear your throat, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears, your fight or flight is on standby for anything that may happen any second. “A—are you… is everything okay?”

He looks around the room trying to locate your phone, it’s in your back pocket but he doesn’t see it. “Where’s your phone?”

“What?”

“Where’s your phone? Unlock it for me.” He pulls back and heads back to his station near his iPad looking around the table and almost spilling his drink from earlier on his gadgets. “It’s in my bag, what’s wrong?”

“Are you recording anything? Did you film anything? Take it out right now.” He claps his hands when he gives the order, his voice getting louder by the second.

If you answer him no he might ask you to unlock your phone, and if you say yes he’ll make you delete it. Both answers could lead to him actually hurting you. You need to lure him into calming down and forgetting about this. “Of course I didn’t, we’re filming this on your own cameras remember?” You walk towards him and help him unbuckle the belt around his hips. “Come on, why are you so tense tonight?”

He looks down to your hands and watches you unbuckle him. It didn’t hit you until now, but when you slept with him he past couple of times he smelled good, and tonight he’s probably wearing the same cologne but you cannot stand how he smells. What happened earlier in the studio scratched you on the inside and again, he looks so different to you right now.

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in closer, slowly calming down from his previous agitation, and any man’s touch can easily make you melt at this point specially when his hands are already groping your ass right now, but you don’t feel anything, your body isn’t even acting upon his kisses that are pressed onto your shoulder. “Maybe you can help me relax, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You could throw up any second right now.

Women are supposed to feel wanted and desired on nights like these, but right now you felt like a sex toy that belonged to him that he could easily use and just throw it away whenever he’s done. It hurts you on the inside.

You gulp repeatedly when you insert your hand into his pants to palm his soft dick that’s slowly hardening in your hand, he buries his face into your neck to kiss you there, his breath usually sends shivers down your spine but you can’t feel anything, and if only he could see your face right now; you’re cringing and fighting back your true grossed out feelings.

“Hold on.” He pulls back and grabs one of the nearby Go-pros, and tonight he’s sober enough to remember to press record and he double checks and looks around to watch the red light turned on, after that he flips the tiny camera to film your faces and he pulls you in to kiss you.

Again, yours or any other girl’s body is truly familiar to him, and he can easily tell that you’re comfortable, but he shrugs it off thinking you’re probably “Camera shy.”

“Let’s go to bed, come on.” He pulls back and guides you towards the bed to sit, positioning the camera down on the night stand and again, double checks that it’s filming and that you’re in frame, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips once and takes your top off to reveal one of the most familiar bras to him. “Let me take it off for you.” He’s clearly not asking your permission he’s just stating what he’s about to do, and he does. Taking it off and throwing it across the room.

You hug your arms towards your chest which makes him smirk. “Look at my little slut pretending to be all shy and cute” And you are genuinely offended. You’re really seconds away from stabbing him with anything near you and easily commit a crime.

“Lay back for me.” And you do, leaning your back against the bed with tears building in your eyes. You can’t cry right now, you even remind yourself that this is the last time you’re going to have to do this, and by tomorrow your plan of getting revenge should be complete.

You stare at the ceiling when you feel his fingers working on the zipper of your jeans and pull it down, you don’t even bother looking down at him because you’re trying hard to minimize having your face in the frame.

You’re having second thoughts by now, and you just wish you drugged him or sedated him just to be able to delete all the content he has of you, you wish you just hit him in the head hard enough for him to lose his memory or something. Every scenario is in your head right now but none of them would’ve been possible.

He grips onto your panties and pulls them down before spreading your legs apart, his mouth coming in contact with your cunt and for the first time ever, this doesn’t even feel half good, in fact, you feel nothing at all.

“Mmm.” You force it out and throw your head further back into the mattress, you have to sound believable and you have to convince him that you’re enjoying this half as much as he is. “Fuck.” You roll your eyes to yourself, you don’t sound convincing at all.

Him on the other side, his cock is in his hand stroking it while savoring your cunt, and if he wasn’t so focused on pleasuring himself, he would’ve noticed that you weren’t wet at all, it’s his third time eating you out and unlike other times, you’re not clenching and your breath is still regular really.

The only thing similar is how fast your heart is pounding, last time it was beating fast from the pleasure, but right now it’s beating even faster in fear, anxiety and grief at your own self worth that you highly doubt there’s anything left from that.

He licks his own fingers before inserting them inside you and it burns, you wish you didn’t feel anything like second ago, but right now it hurts, and at the sudden stretch you gasp and shut your legs, making him forcefully open them back up, he probably thinks you’re enjoying it but he’s self absorbed enough to not realize that.

You have to stop him.

“I’m gonna cum.” And this is the only way. The stretch of his stupid fingers hurt you enough, you’re worried at the actual thought of him fucking you, it’s going to kill you.

He’s in a total different world. His hand stops stroking his cock to focus on fucking you with his fingers, and he envelopes your cunt into his mouth, sucking onto your clit and flicking it with his tongue. Again, if he did this any other night the neighbors would’ve probably heard you.

“Fuck.” You close your legs and cover your own cunt and start breathing fast, giving him the illusion of actually cumming when you’re not, “That’s it cum for me.” He nibbles onto your thighs and doesn’t even stop, continuing to fuck you through your “Orgasm.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me sore already.” Your voice is shaky because you’re about to cry your eyes out. He pulls back finally and climbs up towards you. “Come on baby, ride my dick and make me cum, we have to be quick.”

“Mhm.” You push him to land onto the bed and grab the Go-pro, you can call yourself pity but you had to do it eventually. You point the Go-pro to his face and wrap your fingers around his neck before positioning yourself on top of him. “You want me to ride you huh?”

“Mmhm.” He runs his hands onto your thighs, he’s more than thrilled to see you film him and he even thinks you two are on the same page now, he thinks that this is your kink too and that you’re having fun.

“Did any of the girls make you beg before?” You whisper, looking into the camera and making sure he’s in the frame. “Are you gonna make me beg?”

“It’s the least you can do.” You smirk, your eyes focused on the camera as an excuse to avoid his eyes, but his are locked onto you. “I don’t beg.”

You gather enough courage to slap him on the face before tightening your grip around his neck. “I said beg.” Your chest is heaving and your heartbeat is in your ears, you made an excuse just to hit him in the face and it’s working.

“I’m not begging.” He bites onto his lips and his dark eyes stare onto yours. He clearly enjoyed this and likes being slapped in the face, so you do it again, this time stronger than before and doing it twice. “Then you’re not getting any pussy.” And you’re actually about to get up but he pulls you back down. “No no, please, please ride my dick.” It’s totally half assed but you truly don’t care.

You position yourself right on top of him and willingly point the head of his cock to your cunt but he points it towards your puckered hole last minute and helps you land down.

You feel him up in your back and your body stiffens at the painful stretch, you’re not wet enough and his precum wasn’t enough to let him slide easily inside you. “Get the lube from behind you.” And you stretch behind you to get it, letting him handle it and squirt some onto his cock, and some into his hand to rub your hole and help you land again. “Shit.” You focus again and point the camera to his face.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?” You ask, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the tightness around his cock is unbelievable. “Fuck.”

“Answer me.” You deliver another slap to his face, slowly lifting your hip up to land back down, “Y-yes, shit.” For the first time ever you see him this weak, and god is good.

You can’t deny with the lube and the stretch, it’s doing something to your body but still not enough to get you to your end, your hand tightens around the camera and the other one is still wrapped around his neck, tightening more with each time you bounce on his dick, “I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“Fuck yes.” He grits onto his own teeth, he has enough discipline to not pound into you and actually makes you take control for the rest of your fuck. “You’re one of the best baby.” He admits, and that’s all you need to get on camera, you finally turn it off and put both your hands on his torso for support to ride him faster, his grip tightens around your thighs and his fingernails dig into your skin, his jaw slowly dropping down and his eyelids getting heavier. “Do you wanna cum?” You ask.

“Please make me cum.” And frankly Taehyung has never experienced anything like this, it’s usually him who takes control and he’s in charge for all the hitting and spanking. Tonight he thinks he’s having a different flavor and he likes it, but in fact this has been your plan that you came up within a short span of time.

It’s taking him so long to cum and at this point your calves burn and your ass hurts, you’re not interested to actually cum but still you’re putting in the effort for a man who doesn’t even deserve to be with a woman.

You pull back and point his cock up towards him to stroke it fast enough to make him cum on his own body, you already can’t stand anything from this man so again, totally not worth soiling yourself.

“Fuck, stop—“ He whimpers, pulling on his own hair when you don’t stop stroking him, “It hurts, please stop.” And you finally stop and get out of bed to collect your clothes and put them on. And as usual, he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom and you hear the shower water running.

Come on Y/N, be quick.

“How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.”

You dig into his handbag and pick up one of the Go-pros, and switch it with the one you used earlier before hiding it in your purse, quickly putting on your clothes and leaving the place.

You call a taxi to your apartment and quickly pull out your iPad. You switched your phone off worried that he’ll actually find out about the missing camera and call you, totally didn’t cross your mind that if he found out he could actually come by to take it.

You work faster than ever to transfer the video to your iPad, cutting the beginning when he forced you into the kiss, and leaving in the part that you wanted.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?”

“Y-yes, shit.”

“I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“You’re one of the best baby.”

He wants to blackmail you? He can go ahead.

You’re easily going to lose your job and you may actually not end up hired any place else. But him? He has a whole career, a fandom, and an image to lose, and he can do nothing to cover it up if you actually do end up posting the video online.

You would easily be fired but him? He’ll have to go through lawsuits and actual things that can easily take him down. Of course once they found out that he’s been with other women and he blackmailed them, he could possibly go to jail too.

You delete the video from the Go-pro and turn it off, making sure you already have the videos and the pictures you took earlier on your iPad and phone. You’re ready for anything. If he does it, you’ll do it too.

The next couple of days were just like any other day, they had a birthday party to go to and you had to be there to have them ready, and luckily it was only Jungkook and Jimin going, and one of your friends was out of town so you had to fill in for her.

And you’d be lying if you say things weren’t awkward with Jungkook in the beginning, but he’s a total sweetheart and even after what happened that night, he suddenly appreciates you more and one hour in and he’s joking and making you laugh and you’re just having fun.

What you currently have with Jungkook is truly healthy. You two slept together once and he never brought it up again nor made you feel awkward about it

“You’re done.” Jimin finally gets up and leaves the room along with his stylist, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the room, and the atmosphere turns upside down and you two steal glances from each other awkwardly, you keep trying to pretend to be occupied and focused, but his lips are twitching and he wants to say something. Someone has to address the elephant in the room.

“So, how are you?” He genuinely asks, if it was Taehyung asking you’d know exactly what he’s trying to do, but Jungkook asks because he’s interested in finding out how you’re actually doing.

“I’m good haven’t slept well last night that’s all.” You gave him a vague answer, he rolls his eyes. “Come on Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Not really.” You dig into the makeup bag trying to find one of the brushes, he sighs and turns his head fully towards you. “I heard from him that you two slept together again.”

“O-oh. He told you?”

“And he told me other things, I hope you’re hanging in there.” With his doe eyes he tilts his head full with sympathy, it seems that he knows about the entire story. “Can’t you help?” It’s the first thing that came up to your mind and he shrugs. “I tried, this isn’t your problem, it’s his problem too, he just… I think he needs help.” He scratches his eyebrow.

“I need help too.” You put your hand onto your chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“I know he filmed you, and I know he’s blackmailing you, which believe me, I find it truly immoral.” He lowers his voice.

“There isn’t anything moral about the whole thing to begin with Jungkook, blackmailing can’t be moral in any way.”

“He could’ve asked respectfully—“

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, oh hey Y/N, please sleep with me? No? can I please blackmail you?” You mock Taehyung’s voice which makes Jungkook scrunch his nose and laugh. “Touché.”

“I don’t want to hurt him Jungkook, but I have things that could possibly ruin his entire career, tell him that, and let know that if he ever tries to blackmail me into anything, he’ll regret it.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs apologetically, “I have to stay out of this, I really want to help you but risking his career means risking my career too, and he’s my best friend. If you were going through this with someone else believe me I would’ve sent them to jail, but I can’t hurt him. So I’m sorry, but you’re on your own and I wish you luck.”

It’s mixed feelings really, he’s partially right, but he can’t help his best friend be a total douche and just stay quiet. “No hard feelings?” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. “I don’t want things to get awkward ever again between us, we’re coworkers and friends and we’re around each other the entire time.”

“No hard feelings.” You shake his hand.

The first weekend after going back to work always tasted different, you finally have enough time to catch onto some sleep and rot onto your couch in your place binge watching a series or something on your TV before falling asleep any time you want.

You would usually go out with your friends but tonight you’re feeling tired and a little rusty so you chose to stay home.

On the other hand Taehyung still didn’t find out about his missing camera, he collected them that night and put them into his hand bag, and when he drove home he was going to actually edit the video, but he got too lazy to actually open all twelve of the cameras to find the content you filmed earlier that night.

He shrugged it off and called it a night, and since then he’s been busy with his schedule and he haven’t had the time to edit anything, he’s been working so hard this week and on this Friday night, he felt like he needed to reward himself.

And he’s rotten spoiled, thinking he can have everything in a single phone call, so he picks up his phone and shuffles through his contacts until he finds Mira’s number and he calls her asking her to spend the night with him, but she’s out of town visiting her parents so he can’t pressure her on situations like these.

He scrolls again and spots your name, before he calls, it takes him a couple of minutes to think, he’s been spending more nights with you to the point where he feels like he needs the change, he has never liked “Leftovers” So he scrolls further down and calls other girls, all of them are suddenly out of town or sick.

He rolls his eyes and scrolls back to your name and calls you with no hesitation this time.

You had fallen asleep on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your entire body flinches when it starts ringing in your hand. Your heart is racing when you can predict the purpose of this call, and it’s two possibilities really.

One, he wants his camera back and he found out that you had switched them that night.

Two, he didn’t find out, and he just wants to spend the night with you because why else would he call you on a Friday night? Little do you know that you were his last choice.

“Hello?” You answer, he can tell that you’re sleeping.

“Y/N, it’s a Friday night, are you sleeping already?”

“Yeah, I’m really tired, everything okay?” You’re asking not because you care about him personally, you’re just testing waters trying to see if it’s the first possibility or the second one.

“I’m tired too, do you think you can come over? Maybe we can comfort each other, I could help you relax…” You’re a little relieved it’s not about the cameras. “… and you could help me relax too.”

“No Taehyung, I’m really tired and I have to go to bed.”

“Come on Y/N, you don’t want me to—“

And you interrupt right away. “You don’t wanna do this, I’m respectfully saying no and none of this can happen again.”

“Y/N honey, this isn’t your choice to begin with, you’re one of my girls now, remember?” You cannot believe him. You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m out of town Tae, I’m visiting a relative on the outskirts.”

“Oh are you?” He suspects you’re lying, he chuckles and continues. “You know I can easily find out your location Y/N, and if you’re lying, then I guess..”

You look into your phone screen and immediately record the call. “Tell me, Taehyung, what are you gonna do?”

“I can come over if you want, I can meet that relative of yours, and maybe we can go out and find a place to enjoy our evening together.” He whispers the last part.

“No.” You simply answer. “I’m over with this Taehyung, I’m not sleeping with you ever again.”

“Alright Y/N, you can just kiss your job goodbye, and if I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming to work Monday morning. Good night.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “Taehyung wait.” You’re seconds away from begging him again.

The call is still ongoing but he doesn’t answer. “Taehyung?” and the ill guy psychotically laughs and answers. “I knew you’d change your mind.”

“I’m really out of town, if I were there I’d come over, but I’m not.” You try your best to convince him but you don’t sound convincing at all. “Just please, I can’t do anything for you right now, I’ll see you on Monday or something.”

“Don’t bother, good night.” And this time he hangs up for real, you feel yourself seconds away from actually going unconscious.

That’s it, you lost your job, you lost everything you worked hard to build through these few years, your thoughts are rushing in your head, you’ve reached a dead end.

You’re not going to sleep with him ever again and that’s it, you can’t change your mind.

If he chose to actually post your video or show it to anyone then your job and your reputation are long gone.

And if you chose to post if before he does, you’ll lose your job anyway, but at least you could hurt him just like he did and perhaps end his career, you need to show the world his true colors.

You grow weaker by the second, balling your eyes out and realizing that none of this can actually be fixed, you’re seconds away from changing your mind and just getting ready to go to his place, you would probably be able to save your job but not your dignity and self worth though.

This can’t go on, it can’t happen, this has to be a nightmare.

The five stages of grief were quite obvious on your behavior, when Monday came by you were in denial, totally denying the fact that he will do anything or take things seriously, you kept thinking that oh, he’s probably just doing that the pressure you into saying yes and going to his place, he’s not a bad person, he just lost control on his own behaviors to the point where he had to blackmail you. You spent your entire day trying to make up excuses on why he had to behave this way.

Because if he truly wanted to post the videos you would’ve known from the beginning of the day, but everything went completely normal.

And on Tuesday you woke up living the second stage of grief, you were fuming angry, your fingertips are on fire and you were quite agitated the entire day, he mentioned things again and this time you could swear he was seconds away from giving out everything to the public. You ended up taking so many breaks that day just to avoid yelling in his face or even physically attacking him, the way he looked at you made you feel like you were an item he could use whenever he wanted which drove you mad.

The way he breathed around you loudly all huffing and scoffing made you count to ten before doing anything or saying any word.

The way his language changes when he’s around you, talking to you like you’re only existing for sex and just to please him, treating you like an empty creature who was just created to be fucked and thrown away, he made you feel cheap.

The way his fingers move trying to “tease” you, thinking that this would probably get you in the mood to do anything with him, the way his palm caressed your cheeks whenever he turned his face towards you, the way his fingertips would run down your neck while you were working on the face that you wish you can just deform.

You can hear your heartbeat into your ears and you were constantly breathless, if feels like you’re running miles. You despise Kim Taehyung.

On Wednesday you projected the third stage of grief, bargaining. You showed up to work extremely tired from the anger issues you went home with the day before, your mind was all over the place, the crew would call you to be at a certain place and you’re just not focused, you’re barely working on the face in front of you and luckily it’s not him.

Seokjin had a shooting and you were there to cover up for your friend Leah who suddenly couldn’t show up, she’s saying that she caught a cold but you swear you saw her going home the night before with Taehyung and here you start to actually bargain.

Well at least he’s seeing someone else, you have Leah and other girls that could easily cover up for you, and what if you actually got exposed? You’re not in this alone, at least you can go home back to your family and live a normal life without having to go through any of this again.

But do you really want the normal life back?

Which brings us to Thursday, you’re clearly depressed and the fourth stage of grief is visible on your face and even on your work attire. You showed up in sweatpants and a button up, you haven’t showered this morning and your hair was messily put in a ponytail, your eyes are loose and you can barely answer people around you.

You kept sighing and you were clearly in your own world. Your life is going to be over anytime soon, the dream you’re in right now is about to be robbed away from you and you’re about to wake up, it’s going to be the end of you.

Not that you were unhappy back then, but you like your life a whole lot better now, you get to travel, show up to parties, events and hell even meet people you thought you’d never meet, it’s a brand new world that you never dreamt of, and it’s about to be taken away from you.

You sulk back into your chair and close your eyes, totally not in the mood to work or see anyone.

On Friday, you were brushing your teeth when it suddenly hit you. You went through the previous stages of grief and there’s only stage left that you find it hard to swallow.

Acceptance.

Acceptance? Do you think you’ll ever be there?

Do you think you’ll be able to just accept the fact that someone with issues is going to blackmail you and take your dream away from you just because he needs… Sex?

Do you think you’ll accept to be “one of his girls.” And just give away your principles?

Girl fuck the principles, if you have to save your career just do it. Are you really thinking that right now?

You rinse and get ready for work, as much as you liked Fridays, but you hate them and fear them now; it’s the weekends and people usually go out and in Taehyung’s case, he scrolls through his contact list trying to find his hookup for the night.

It makes you think that does he really not have a life? His coworkers are a blast to be around and they’re really fun and entertaining, he could just spend the night with them or even go visit his other friends or family, but no it has become a ritual for him.

Every Friday night if he has nothing specifically planned, he’ll end up scrolling through his contact list and seeing who he feels like fucking that night, whether it was girls from the company or even someone he randomly hooked up with before, or even foreigners.

And frankly his contact list has over two hundred different women that he sometimes forgets what they look like, and thank god for the content he made, it has helped him several times when it comes to remembering their faces and bodies, and what they did and how they did.

You get into your workplace and today there’s nothing planned on the schedule and they’re not filming anything, they had a meeting with a modeling agency and you had to be there to sculpt his face and mask the true Taehyung away from them quite literally.

“How are you?” He crosses his arms and throws his head back closing his eyes and giving you the space to work. “Good.” And it’s more than enough of an answer.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asks.

“Yes.” Your answers clearly mean that you’re not willing to talk but he still insists on talking.

“You know, Y/N, I’m being so forgiving with you right now, you know I can easily post your videos…” He starts talking and that’s when it hits you.

Acceptance. It’s finally here.

Honestly Taehyung is full of shit, you’ve lost count to the times he actually threatened you and yet he still doesn’t post anything, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that he is in fact, full of shit.

He’s still mumbling but you’re not listening.

“Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” You shrug carelessly still focused on his face. Maybe acting careless will get him to think that it doesn’t matter to you and that you’re not scared.

But deep down you actually still shit your pants whenever this is mentioned.

“Yeah, I know, and I want us to hookup tonight.” He knows exactly what you mean but he decides to play his own games. “Cancel with your friends, you’re not going.”

Isn’t this new? Your jaw almost drops down, you can’t believe this man. “Excuse me?”

He turns to face you with fire behind his eyes and he clearly speaks. “Cancel with your friends. You are not going.”

“Sure.” You sarcastically answer and put your brush down. “Get up, I’ll call over one of the girls to finish your face.” You couldn’t handle things anymore.

The day passed by better when you can no longer see him, and you didn’t lie when you told him that you have things planned for tonight, you were supposed to go out with your girl friends to celebrate a birthday in a club that was five blocks away from your place, so you went home and changed into a dress and went out to spend your night drinking and dancing.

It has been so long since you actually got the chance to meet up with them and you don’t remember the last time you went to a club, so you enjoyed your night way more than you should have and probably exaggerated and totally lost counts of the drinks you had.

They insisted to walk you home but you immediately said no, you needed to walk and perhaps sweat away the alcohol, even when you could barely balance on your own legs nevertheless in heels, but you still made it to your place, you rub your eyes before trying to click the pass code onto the door and right before you put the last number you turn your head.

He’s right here behind you, only a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets and a cap on his head. He shows you a toothy smile before asking. “How was your night?”

“Ugh, Taehyung, I’m about to throw up you don’t want to be near me.” You put your hand up in the air and turn back to your door. Something tells you to not open the door yet until he leaves, so you turn towards him. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Let me in, we could probably chat and catch up, I miss you.” He feigns whatever this is and takes the couple of steps towards you, cupping your cheek and taking a whiff. “Tequila, I smell something else but I can’t tell what it is, but you’re drunk huh?”

“Yeah, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t take advantage of me.” You press your hand onto his chest trying to push him away but he’s stronger than you are when you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? He could easily take you down and you wouldn’t be able to lift up a finger.

“Taehyung, I’m not joking, I’ll probably throw up on you if you stay close.” You’re not lying, but this doesn’t stop him. Everything progressed too fast and now suddenly his hands are climbing up under your dress and groping onto your ass, his other hand wrapping around your body to pull you in closer to his before sandwiching you against your own door, his lips moving too fast towards your neck and not thinking twice before kissing you everywhere.

“Taehyung, stop, please.” You sound alarmed and scared, your hands are still working to push him away but it barely does anything. His right hand gets under your panties and lands onto your clit to rub you aggressively, and it hurts.

“Stop!” You’re loud enough and the neighbors probably heard you. “Please, get away from me, don’t touch me.” You clench your fists and start hitting his chest hoping that he’d pull back but he doesn’t and it’s slowly killing you. You’re feeling light headed and you know what’s coming up next.

Your legs can barely balance onto the floor and you’re swallowing repeatedly, you’re going to.. “I’m gonna throw up.” Exactly. You announce and he pulls back a second late, you’ve already puked the drinks from tonight onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, you’re coughing and holding your hair back while throwing up whatever is left into your stomach.

Taehyung being the gentleman he is, doesn’t even offer help or anything, you could easily go unconscious but what matters the most right now is his expensive sweatshirt that’s spoiled. A grossed out frown wears on his face and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch, I’ll fucking show you.”

And he turns to leave the building and you hear him mutter on his way out. “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Whoa, the world is spinning around you, aren’t you supposed to feel better after you throw up? You unlock your door finally and throw off your heels before plopping down onto your couch and grabbing out your phone.

“You’ll teach me a valuable lesson, Kim Taehyung? In your fucking dreams.”

You go into your media and select the recorded call, the pictures you have taken of his handbag stuffed with Go-pros, the video from back in London specifically the parts where he used the belt and hand cuffed you, and the video you filmed the other night specifically when he told you that you’re one of his girls.

Before finally pressing the share button.

#bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung smut #bangtan smut #v x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung smut

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gr7mes · 2 days

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STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader

tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9

a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!!

you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.

it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.

ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.

as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.

"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.

through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.

"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.

however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.

you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.

"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.

"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."

carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.

"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry.

but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.

"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.

fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.

or so you thought.

BANG!

his stupid fucking finger slipped.

all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?

your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.

he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.

you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.

your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.

you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?

blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.

now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.

"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.

she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.

the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.

after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.

but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.

daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."

the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.

"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."

it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair.

"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.

little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #the walking dead #carl grimes x fem!reader #twd x reader #twd #carl grimes angst #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes oneshot #twd imagines #twd oneshot #twd fanfiction #chandler riggs

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cvntyworld · 2 days

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wasteland survival guide ( maximus )

summary: you didn't trust easy, but the unconscious man on your porch was way too pretty to let die, and you were way too curious as to why someone from that cult known as the brotherhood would have collapsed on your door in need of help and expecting you to help was an even more insane point of view.

contents: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, black cat and golden retriever energy, max has a tooth lodged in his shoulder like he does in the show, reader pointed a gun at max, awkward tensions as max doesn't know what tf he's doing, fast burn, kissing, ect...

dedicated to: @fallout-girl219

You've learned two things about the man who you found collapsed on your front porch, his name is Maximus, Max for short, and he was a part of the brotherhood of steel, a cult, in your honest opinion.

Why you had helped him, you still weren't sure about that just yet, maybe it was the fact he was in the way and you would have to step over him every time you entered your house or exited it. You would have to listen to his cries of complaint, desperate for help as his sleeve became a red stain from the wound in his arm. So you decided to help, for once, you had plenty of stim packs and he would get better in no time with one of them. You had dragged him inside pathetically, nearly tripping on the final step when you finally got him into your house.

He had a tooth lodged in his shoulder, rotten and yellow, you had removed it with tweezers and stuck the needle from the stim pack into the open wound and then after seconds, he had woken up with a jolt whilst you turned your back for a mere second, too busy shoving the box back into your cabinet and locking it.

You had heard the thump and turned sharply, your gun pointed at the man who had fallen off your coach with a painful groan, clutching his arm as he sat up and stared at you with a look of worry when he saw the gun you're pointing right at his head. He held his hands up, as you continued to point your weapon, "If I lower this, you're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" He shakes his head, staring widely as you lowered the gun and in turn held out your hand for him to take, he was surprised at your strength, managing to get him onto his feet with a single pull of his hand.

He was suddenly in your space and so you step back, a little cautious of his taller frame, he could win a fight if he'd chosen to be hostile, but instead he had held out a hand for you to shake to which you agreed. "Thanks for uhh... not letting me die on your porch." He says with a wave of awkwardness in his tone, "I'm Max, Maximus." You let go of his hand with a shrug, "I'm Y/N." You were quick to reply, and he nodded at you with a smile.

"Well, thank you, Y/N, for your hospitality... You don't get a lot of that these days, especially towards brotherhood of steel members." You shrug at him dismissively, sitting down on your worn out couch, "I'm not the biggest fan, no offence, but, I'm not that cruel, I wouldn't leave your ass to bleed out in my yard." He tried to laugh, but your dislike towards the brotherhood made him frown with a look of disappointment. "I don't mean to pry but why do you dislike them? Surely there's a reason." You shrug out of laziness, and turn to face him, "Well, for one, it is such a cult full of military wannabes who think they're gonna save the world or something like that when what they're actually doing is making shit ten times worse." Max was taken aback by your words, sure there were a few truths to your words but the first point made him forget what else had been said so far.

"The brotherhood isn't a cult."

The two of you grew silent, Max had a frown on his face, offended at your words, and then after fully letting it sink in what he had said, you laughed. Your lungs burned out from the breaths you inhaled, trying to get air as you had continued to laugh at his reaction and his words and the man in front of you went even further to prove how you'd offended him by crossing his arms. "What's so funny?" Is the first thing he asks when you finally calm down and it finally makes you turn to him with a shrug, "Most people who are in a cult usually don't know they're in one." Max's lips part to speak and then he falters, "That's a very good point but the brotherhood still isn't a cult."

"It definitely is." You reply bored, "No, it isn't!" He fires at you with an annoyance. "You know, considering I saved your life, the least you can do is agree with me." You're aware he's becoming a little annoyed by you disagreeing with him and so he stands up, "I'm gonna go now." You nod at him, "That would be great, thank you!"

He hovers in place, "I'm leaving now!" He says but still is unmoving, looking rather unsure when you crossed your arms and raised a brow at him, "The doors right there, I'd see you out but I gotta clean this blood off my couch." At your words, Max frowns and glances at the door, "I'll get going then!" He moves a few steps towards the door and then pauses when you scoff, "You've yet to get out of my house, you lost your sense of direction, pal?"

"Can I kiss you?" He asks randomly, "Excuse me?" You're quick to ask with a raised brow. "Can I kiss you?" He asks again, this time a little more awkwardly. "Thought there's some sort of rule in your cult, no sex before marriage or something like that?" He shakes his head, "We're allowed but the brotherhood doesn't exactly allow girls to join us back at base, it's forbidden." He explains and then stares at you suddenly with wide eyes, "Oh, my god, it is a cult!" He exclaims and you laugh breathily, "Told you so..." Max takes a step closer to you now, toe to toe, as he looks at you softly, "Can I still kiss you, even though I'm in a cult?" He asks unsurely and you answer by pressing your soft lips to his, catching him off guard as he suddenly rocked back onto his heels slightly when you parted your lips, a grin on your features at his flustered face, "That answer your question?"

"Yes, yes it does."

#fallout #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #maximus fallout #fallout maximus #maximus x reader #maximus #we need more max fics out here #he's literally a sweetheart

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 3 days

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Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

2 weeks later.... Friday

Eli: There’s a refresher and a donut waiting for u at the L&D desk ms I don’t like coffee.

Kiyana rolled her eyes with a grin as she texted Eli back. Josh narrowed his eyes as he watched Kiyana smile down at her phone. He tried to ignore it but when she started to actually giggle at the fucking phone he snuck around the kitchen counter and tried to get a peek at who she was texting but she caught on and quickly locked her phone and set down on the counter.

“You need something?” She asked, rolling her eyes when his eyes glanced down at her phone. “You got anything planned today or yall just gonna chill?” She asked, grabbing her lunch out of the fridge. When she turned back around he had her phone in his hands.“HEY!” She called out, snatching her phone out of his hands. “What are you doing?”

“You changed your password?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why were you trying to go through my phone? We are div-”

“Divorced. Yeah you keep bringing it up.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag.

“I get off at 9. Will y’all be good until then?” Josh nodded, his jaw was clenched tight as he kept thinking about how Kiyana changed her password to her phone. Kiyana rolled her eyes at his attitude before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“I love you!” She called out to the boys and Josh heard them call it back before the front door slammed shut.

“Love you too.” He muttered before going to join his sons in the living room.

“So you at Dr. Daniels seem to be getting close.” Debra , the senior nurse stated as she eyed the drink in Kiyana’s hand. Kiyana shrugged

“He’s cool.”

“Cool enough to be talking about asking you on a date.” Debra said, smirking when Kiyana snapped her head towards her.

“No, we’re just friends.” Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. Her inner voice said.

Debra rolled her eyes. “Honey, I helped deliver Elijah forty-something years ago and that man still doesn't bring me coffee everyday.” Kiyana bit her lip and looked down the hall to where Eli was talking with another nurse. “Look, I know you just got divorced but shit, take the chance. You don’t have to fall in love with him.” Kiyanna sighed and shook her head, it was way too soon for her to even think about going on a date with another man. Her divorce was still fresh, like an open wound.

“ I think Key already talking to somebody else.” Josh blurted out as he, Trinity and Jon sat in their backyard, keeping a close eye on his two older boys who were swimming. He had put Kairo down for a nap.

“Well you were fucking someone else while y’all were married so who cares.” Trin said, smacking Jon on his shoulder when he elbowed her in her ribs. “I mean what did you expect? Kiyana is very attractive and now she’s single.” Trin shrugged.

“Don’t kick the man while he’s down Trin.”

“Yeah, damn Trinity. I thought we were better than that.” Josh tried to joke but Trinity was still very pissed off at him. “I know I fucked up. But it’s only been two weeks.”

“How long is she supposed to wait? Until you’re ready for her to move on?” Trin rolled her eyes. “Leave that woman alone. Her life is no longer a concern of yours..” Josh didn’t say anything as he brought his attention back to his sons. How was I supposed to get her back if she’s moved on already?

“Fuck him” Shanté muttered. “Fuck him and his stupid mullet. It’s 2024, the eighties called, they want their hairstyle back.” She said giggling at her own joke. Nikkita rolled her eyes from where she was sitting on their couch.

“Tae, I been told you to stop messing with that man, She might've divorced him but he still loves her. You can’t compete with that.” Shanté flipped off her best friend and took another swig from the wine bottle they were passing back and forth.

“He told me he never wanted to be with me, Nikki.” Nikkita didn’t respond back because.. Duh. It was pretty obvious. Josh only hit Shanté up after the RAW tappings on Monday’s and as soon as he would fly back home to Pensacola he would block her, then start the cycle all over again the next Monday. Nikkita felt bad for her friend but she had also warned her the first time Shanté had told her she hooked up with Josh.

Kiyana was Josh’s high school sweetheart and from experience, Nikkita knew that Shanté never stood a chance.

Kiyana let out a sigh of relief as she clocked out for the day. She can finally go home and be with her boys for 3 whole days. Just as she was about to walk out the front door she heard her name being called. She turned and smiled once she saw it was Elijah.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” He said back slightly out of breath. “I ran all the way down here. Though I missed you.” He smiled at her.

“You just caught me.” She said, feeling herself blush under the heat of his stare. “Wassup?”

“I wanna take you out tomorrow night.” Kiyana blinked. “If it's too soon. I apologize, but I really like you Kiyana.” She clutched her purse strap tighter as she felt the butterflies in her tummy start to rumble around. Kiyana only got that feeling with one man before and she had just divorced him two weeks ago.

Elijah sighed as she just stared at him. “It’s too soon isn’t it?” Kiyana quickly broke out of her stupor and shook her head.

“No,” She cleared her throat. “ I would love to go out with you”

“Yeah?” Eli asked. “Bet, do you have a babysitter for tomorrow?” Kiyana nodded. “Okay, tomorrow at 8. Text me your address.”

Kiyana bit her lip as she watched him run back into the hospital, the butterflies more intense as she thought about their date tomorrow night. She let out a groan and let her head fall back, looking towards the sky. She was so fucking screwed.

Kiyana got her first date since the divorce.. Josh about to be soooooooooooooooooooooooooo fucking petty 😭, y'all just don't understand.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #main event jey uso #whatdoeseverybodywant writes #jey uso fanfic #jey uso imagines #jey uso fanfiction #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #wwe x you #wwe x y/n #wwe x reader #wwe fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x fem reader

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charlies-diary-entries · 3 days

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metamorphmagus!reader drabble <3

very, very long fluffy ass drabble approaching, just about 2k words. im actually deeply insanely obsessed with the concept of the metamorphmagus (my non-binary is showing, i know) and need more content of a metamorphmagus!reader.

you officially meet the marauders during your later years at Hogwarts. they'd heard of you before, how could they not? beyond the small class sizes (which required you be aware of essentially everyone in your year, willingly or not), and the houses (which only further narrowed your chances of not knowing anyone), it was difficult for something as rare as a metamorphmagus to slip under anyone's noses.

james recalled seeing you at quidditch games, your hair vividly colored to match whichever team you were supporting. he was often proud to look through the crowd and find you sporting flaring red locks, cheering alongside his fellow gryffindors. he was proud, even if he knew you weren't there for him. very secretly, he often found himself wanting you to be there for him.

remus remembered the awkward instance of a professor dragging you to the front of the class and demanding you transform for him and your peers. it was a substitute for care of magical creatures, and he was determined to treat you like something to study. remus had cringed as you shifted, clearly uncomfortable and disjointed, before running off and skipping the rest of the day, upset. he wished he had gone to comfort you.

sirius often thought about when he spotted you shifting back to your true face while being dragged through the corridors by minnie. she was huffing and puffing about something you had done, some harmless prank scaring some first years with a strange face, but you only laughed. when he caught your eye, you winked, and he could feel his cheeks flush as he grinned. he'd suspected you'd be great fun for a while yet, but you were just beginning to prove yourself to him.

you had mostly slipped them all by up until their fifth year. by then, the boys had all been dating each other only for a short amount of time but it was becoming apparent to the rest of the school that the marauders were now strictly "look, but don't touch". they were really too fond of each other to consider anyone else now! (this was deeply upsetting information for the many young witches and wizards who had their hearts set upon a member of the famous group.)

however, as you had continued to find passion and joy in care of magical creatures despite your previous experience, you were studying to be a magizoologist. this meant, you were assisting kettleburn while james took the class. which of course meant, he finally had a clear opportunity to befriend you.

you and james caught on like wildfire, and it didn't take long for him to begin dragging the other marauders into your study sessions. hours would pass by, quiet jokes turning into loud laughter and getting shushed by the librarian. they found your ability endlessly fascinating and you were only too happy to oblige your new friends. (one time you transformed into sirius and the two of you acted out him falling in love with himself. the uproar it sent james and remus into actually got you kicked out of the library.)

it didn't take very long for you to become the newest unofficial member of the marauders. you were their beloved friend, and unfortunately in remus's eyes, all too smart. you had figured out his "furry little secret" just within the first month of knowing them all. the next month, they sat together in the hospital wing. sirius was holding remus's hand as james lay next to him on the bed, trying to bring him what comfort they had to offer when you stormed in. they were all aghast when you appeared in the hospital wing after the full moon with a full load of chocolate, several novels, and a promise that you'd do anything you could to help Remus through the lunar cycle. (remus thinks this very well may be when he fell in love with you. didn't help that you refused to leave his side for the rest of the day, reading to him and holding his hand in an entirely friendly way.)

you often joined them for the famous gryffindor parties, often getting sufficiently drunk and completely out of your mind. your appearance would shift constantly, struggling to find one stable face and body when your mind was so fuzzy. you would dance and laugh with them all, so when remus had squeezed sirius's hand and sent him to the corner you'd tucked away in, he knew something was wrong. you had been rather viciously rejected by a ravenclaw you liked, and now, very drunk, you were moaning to sirius about your appearance. could you have made your lips fuller? grown your hair? maybe cut your hair? what could have been different, more attractive, what could have made them like you? bigger eyes? sharper features? he had held your shifting face, helping you calm down and relax into your true complexion. (sirius had thought you looked completely gorgeous as yourself, because no matter how you looked, no matter what changed, he could always tell when you were comfortable in your own skin. he liked you best like that.)

and you always stood for what you believed in. once, james and remus had to not-so-gently drag you away from someone who had loudly claimed werewolves were "inhuman monsters". you continued to shout after them until you were dragged out of their sight, after which you gave remus possibly the longest hug he'd ever had. james gave him a soft kiss on the cheek after they sent you off to class, hoping you wouldn't attack any other students. unfortunately, later that same day, james caught you shouting at the very same student, defending a muggle-born slytherin. he didn't hear what they said, but something shifted in your eyes before you physically shifted, taking on a shit-ton of muscle and pouncing on them. he raced to pull you off as you bellowed at them, wordless and angry, before a professor raced over and helped him. you were dragged off to detention for a week and the slytherin dealt with a broken jaw and black eye as punishment for calling the student you had defended a mudblood. (james only felt immense appreciation for you afterwards. he'd never seen you spark like that before, and he'd never seen you look so undeniably hot.)

it was an incredibly comforting conversation between the three of them when sirius had audibly expressed just how attractive you were. james and remus were quick to agree, and it grew to them admitting to each other their collective feelings for you. but with it suddenly out in the open, none of them knew how to interact with you anymore. the previously friendly touches now felt charged, every glance your way was longing, and none of them knew how to manage it.

it didn't help that you seemed to be pulling away from them either, flushing and quickly making your way out of most of your conversations with them. they thought they were scaring you off. in reality, you were scaring yourself off.

you felt the exact same as them, but deeply feared ruining one of your few lasting friendships at the school. you began shifting into new faces, new bodies, ones they wouldn't recognize in order to avoid them in the halls. it stung to see them searching for you in class and around school, and it stung more when they gave up. maybe if you avoided them you'd begin to feel normal about them again. (you'd had enough weird for a life time, the few normal things you could have you desperately clung to.)

eventually, they caught onto you. again, there were only so many students at Hogwarts, so seeing a new one every other day during their classes with you? it was a painfully ineffective tactic.

remus caught you one day, lounging by the lake. well, sulking seemed a more accurate word, as you were incredibly glum, despite being relaxed enough to look like yourself. it felt like the first time he'd seen your actual face in years. he called out to you.

you jumped, and turned to run, but he cried out for you to stay. and well, you couldn't deny him. not when he sounded like that. not when he sounded so... abandoned. you cringed as you turned around and he rushed up, grabbing your face, turning you this way and that, filled with worry. he asked if you were okay, if you'd been hurt, if they'd hurt you somehow, and why in godric's name were you avoiding them so much-

and gently, you grabbed his wrists to still him, opening your mouth to... to what? comfort him? lie and say you were fine? no words escaped you as remus realized what he'd done and quickly pulled his touch away from you, a flush spreading across his cheeks. (he nearly didn't notice how you'd deflated as he stepped back.)

an awkward, pained grin crossed his face as he looked at you and whispered to you, "where'd you go? what happened to... to us?"

you very nearly broke down in tears right then and there, sucking in a sharp breath as you tried to prepare for losing them. that could be the only possible resolution to all this mess, and you'd be on your own. again. that was fine. you began to speak again, before a shout interrupted you.

james barreled past remus to give you a bear hug so forceful he actually tackled you to the ground. sirius was not far behind him, slipping a hand around remus's side and leaning into him, relaxed at finally seeing you.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as you hugged james back, who only held you tighter, shouting that you could never leave them alone again. "we all love you too much to lose you ever again, so don't ever get lost, okay?"

you chuckled softly, more tears escaping as you buried your face into his neck. your laughter quickly boiled over into quiet sobs, shakily asking, "love, huh? that's- that's an awful big word, you- are you sure you love me?"

"love you? dove, we're plain obsessed with you-" james finally pulled back, shaking your shoulders then cupping your cheeks. "don't cry lovie, why are you crying?"

"because you don't- you don't love me the way i love you."

james tilted his head at you, deciphering your words, before your true meaning hit him like a truck. he grinned, whispering a quiet "fuck it" before shoving completely into your space and smashing his lips against yours. his glasses went crooked and you gasped into it, and there was some teeth clashing from how much james was smiling, but it was wonderful.

when he finally pulled back, panting and gleefully laughing, you could hear sirius's wolf-whistle and remus's shocked chuckles. you quickly looked between all of them, completely shocked before locking back onto james.

"you- you kissed me."

"sure did, dove."

"did," you glanced between all of them again, now keeping your eyes on sirius and remus as you leaned towards james and whispered, "do all of you want to do that?"

james somehow grinned even brighter. "sure do, dove."

"oh."

you felt your cheeks become ridiculously warm as sirius plopped beside you two, dragging remus down with him and smirking at you the entire time. you shyly smiled at him as he leaned over and smacked a kiss to your cheek.

"how- how long have you all been- how long have you felt this way?"

"long enough dove," remus said, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you.

"certainly long enough."

i'm begging someone to request more metamorphmagus!reader, especially gender queer or otherwise. (i'll probably still write it even if you don't though, lol) i will also be writing more magizoologist!reader! just smth about a reckless partner that the marauders just can't keep track of... <3

#poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x reader #marauders reader insert #marauders x reader

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holly-opal · 2 days

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Hello...I wanted to make a request that I don't know if it's something personal and I understand that you don't want to do it...but you could do a mr puzzle x helping a reader who suffers from hypersexuality... I will understand that if it may seem uncomfortable to you I won't force you to do it, I just want to feel comfortable with my favorite character

Of course, I am sorry if I do this wrong. I have never written hypersexuality before, so forgive me if I do this wrong.

Tw: Mildly sexual content. Implied SA.

You were walking to your dressing room when Mr. Puzzles went up to you, he put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a warm smile, he asked if you could see him in his office later today, he wanted to talk about something. You blushed and nodded, you have always liked Mr. Puzzles, you found him charming and quite the lovely person to be around, and he was very attractive for a man with a TV for a head, then your mind began to wander and you thought about the two of you together, in your bed hugging and kissing each other, and you two taking your clothes off.... You were doing that again. Thinking sexually about someone or wanting to do sexual things with someone. You felt disgusted with yourself, and thought that Mr. Puzzles wouldn't like that either. He'd probably tell you to piss off, like everyone else you had sexual encounters with. You followed him into his office and sat down in front of him, he offered you a cigarette, you declined. You were never one for smoking, your ex did though, and he was the one who hurt you. Made you do awful things with him. Harmed you in bed. You felt so gross for doing, and even more disgusted with yourself when you actually sorta liked it. He shrugged and blew some smoke, he seemed tense. "I'm going to get real with you, Y/N. I am not very happy with ratings. I am working so hard and yet I'm not getting good results. And production is going up in flames. Ugh..." Mr. Puzzles smoked some more, he was stressed, you had an idea on how to release it though. You got up from your chair and sat on his lap, he started blush and stare at you in surprise, you began to praise him for his good work and rubbed your hands on his chest.

Mr. Puzzles was touched by this, his face was beet red and he was starting to like it. But he see that you weren't doing this out of your own volition, he could tell that you weren't happy about this. He grabbed your wrists and put them away, you were afraid now, you didn't know what came over you, you expected him to get mad at you or throw you off of him or hit you. He didn't though, he picked up you and set you down on your feet. He sighed and kneeled down to your level, you began to tear up and look away from his gaze. He had seen this kind of behavior before, in television and in his actors. He gave you a very big hug, you started to cry and hugged him back. Those thoughts in your head were killing you. 'Your disgusting', 'nobody will love you if you keep doing that', 'your just like your ex, only worse'. You've heard these words before, but still, it kept repeating in your head multiple times. You were sobbing into Puzzle's shoulder, leaving a wet spot of where your tears went. Mr. Puzzles pulled away from the hug, ye was smiling at you, and he was patting you in the back.

"Mi amor, I know that you are hurting, but this isn't the right way to go. You don't have to give yourself to me so that I could feel better. I am not mad, but we need to work on your issues." You nodded, wiping away some tears with your sleeves. Mr. Puzzles grabbed a box of tissues and handed some to you, you blew your nose and threw it away. He stood up and held out his hand. "How about this? We'll both talk about safe outlets for your behavior, that way you won't get hurt by anyone. And then afterwards, we can go to dinner. How does that sound?" Mr. Puzzles asked. You smiled and nodded, you clearly needed to work through your issues, a nice talk and maybe even a therapist will help. You took his hand and you both walked out of his office, you felt relieved in a way. He did not judge you, and he even offered to help you, many would've just left you immediately. Your love for him deepened, and his love for you has not changed, you were still his little star.

(Again, I am sorry if I did this wrong. I hope this brings comfort to you, my friend.)

#smg4 mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles #puzzlevision arc #smg4 puzzlevision #smg4 ships #smg4

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earthtoharlow · 3 days

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Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

2. Pulling Me Back

Every time I try to leave something keeps pulling me back, telling me I need you in my life.

Maryse sat in her car parked outside Jack’s house, her fingers nervously tapping against the steering wheel. She glanced up at the front door, her heart pounding. It had been days since they ran into each other at the studio, and now she was finally mustering up the courage to ring the doorbell.

Taking a deep breath, Maryse got out of her car and walked to the front door. She reached out and pressed the button, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. As she waited, her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her on the other side of the door. Would they be able to pick up where they left off? Or had too much time passed for them to salvage what they once had?

Before she could dwell on it further, the door swung open, and there Jack stood, a mixture of surprise and joy flickering across his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

Maryse smiled nervously as her cheeks warmed. “Hey,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, uh…I couldn’t wait,” she admitted, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about us, about everything.”

Jack’s expression softened as he nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Me too.” He admitted, stepping aside to let her in. As she crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind her.

As she followed behind Jack she couldn’t help but look around his new place. She also couldn’t help but notice the minimal decor adorning the walls. It struck her that there were no personal touches, no signs of another person. She wondered if it meant he was still single.

They both sat on the couch, Maryse shifted uncomfortably, stealing glances at Jack, who seemed equally uneasy.

“Look I’m…

“Jack…”

They couldn’t help but both laugh at the silliness of speaking at the same time, the moment breaking the tension that filled the room.

“Sorry, you go first,” Jack said, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“No, you,” Maryse insisted, her eyes searching for a sign of what he was thinking.

Jack takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on Maryse as he begins “I need you to know that I didn’t cheat on you. My ex… she kissed me. I swear, I was pushing her away when you walked in. I know it probably looked bad, but I would never do that to you.” He pauses, his expression pleading for her to believe him.

Maryse listened to Jack ramble about that night. She knew the whole story, Urban had called her the following morning after the night out at the club explaining everything to her. Deep down she knew that Jack would never do that to her and even though she missed him dearly during those lonely nights, she knew that the time apart had been necessary for her growth and self-discovery.

“I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since. I know I should have handled it better, but I froze. I froze because all I could think about was you, and how much I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Maryse reaches out and places a hand on his arm, a gentle gesture to comfort him. “I know, it’s okay. I believe you.” She says softly, her eyes meeting his. “I know you would never intentionally hurt me.”

“A little birdy actually filled me in on what happened months ago,” she begins, her voice steady but filled with vulnerability. “I guess I was just too scared to reach out again because everything seemed so broken, beyond repair.”

“Urban?” Jack asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Maryse nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, Urban,” she confirms, her gaze meeting his. “He told me what happened that night, and I realized that I didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself…”

She pauses before taking a deep breath, her heart pounding nervously. “Now it’s my turn to apologize,” she says softly, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry for making it seem like I didn’t see a future with you, because the truth is, I do. I think I always did. And I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out. I needed time to process everything and figure out what I really wanted.” Maryse watched as Jack’s eyes softened, a flicker of emotion passing across his face.

“I know I messed up.” continues, her voice trembling slightly. “But I love you and I know, for the rest of my life, I won’t stop loving you, ever, because you were meant to be with me. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

A wide grin spreads across Jack’s face when he heard Maryse say she loved him, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. Without hesitation, he pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. With a gentle yet urgent tone, he whispers, “What did you just say?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Maryse’s heart swells with love as she looks into his eyes, seeing the depth of emotion reflected back at her. “I love you,” she says softly, her voice filled with tenderness.

Jack smile widens at her words, and he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Say it again,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.

“I love you,” Maryse tells him with even more conviction than before.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Jack closes the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss. They poured all of their love and affection into the embrace.

As they finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with an expression of pure adoration. “I love you more.” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.

Tears of happiness prick at her eyes as she gazes back at him, overwhelmed by the depth of their connection. “Not possible.” Maryse replies, her voice trembling with emotion.

They sat in silence tangled in each other's arms and for the first time in months, they felt relaxed and happy. Maryse felt a sense of gratitude for the journey that had brought her to this moment. She was ready to embrace the future and spend the rest of her life with Jack.

“I have something else to tell you,” Maryse begins, her voice filled with nervousness.

Jack looks at her, curiosity evident in his eyes. “What is it?” he asks, leaning in closer to her.

“I broke my lease,” she confesses, her words hanging in the air between them.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he leans back slightly, processing her revelation. “You broke your lease?” he repeats, in disbelief.

Maryse takes a deep breath, gathering her courage as she continues. “I was wondering… if the offer to move in with you is still available?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, there’s silence between them as they both process her question. Then, Jack's face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with joy.

“Of course it’s still available,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

With a mischievous grin, Jack scoops Maryse up effortlessly, lifting her over his shoulder as she squeals with laughter. “Hey, what are you doing?” she protests playfully, her laughter bubbling over.

“We have a lot of making up to do, and we need to celebrate!” he replies with a wink, his tone playful.

Maryse giggles, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. “And where exactly are you taking me?” she teases, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“To our soon-to-be shared bedroom,” he declares with a grin, his steps purposeful as he carries her through the house

She laughs, the sound echoing through the air as they make their way down the hallway.

***

AN: PARADE INSIDE MY CITY YEAAAAH shorter chapter but our bbs are happy and back together 🙂‍↕️ thank you for all the love on the last chapter and this series as a whole I appreciate it so much 🫶

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @daphnescorner @angelluv444

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow blurb #flashing lights

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quillthrillswriting · 1 day

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actually crying over this interaction katara has in my fic on kyoshi island where she realizes how nice it is to have girlfriends

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Guess what your brother’s up to…” Ayiti was beaming, barely holding back her laughter now.

“Spirits, I’m not sure I even want to know.” Katara rolled her eyes, carefully curling up the centuries old paper in front of her and tucking it alongside the others in her cloth satchell. “What, did he accidentally get a sword stuck in some important monument after bragging to some poor unassuming villager about his swordsmanship?”

“Better.” Ayiti’s eyes flashed with amusement as she settled into the plush stool opposite Katara. She reached forward, hands resting on the varnished wooden table as her elegantly almond shaped nails drummed rhythmically in anticipation. “I missed his grand entrance, but apparently, he’s been set on helping us poor, untrained Kyoshi warriors! He pranced his way in, going on and on about how he’s the best warrior in his tribe. I got there just in time to see Suki wipe the floor with him.”

Katara groaned in embarrassment, burying her head in her hands as she slumped against the table.

“No, no, you don’t need to be too embarrassed for him.” Ayiti rested a comforting hand on Katara’s arm as the Water tribe girl looked up, her scepticism apparent in her expression. “He was actually pretty sweet after Suki humbled him. He said he was ready to learn, that he had been overly cocky when he came in.”

Katara wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound like the Sokka I know.”

“We were surprised too! He let us paint his face in the traditional style of Kyoshi warriors, even put on the armoured gown too!” Ayiti giggled again, remembering. “Although he was a little embarrassed when Aang saw him in it. I think Sokka interpreted Aang’s attempt to compliment him as Aang poking a little fun at him.”

“What’s Aang been up to, anyways?” Katara tried to make the question seem thoughtless, throwing in a shrug to accompany her words, but Ayiti’s shrewd expression saw right through her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” She crooned, a teasing grin on her face. “C’mon, you’ve gotta get your mind off of the Avatar, and you’ve had your nose buried in scrolls the whole day. Let me show the future Waterbending master around my little old village.”

Ayiti helped Katara gather the rest of the scrolls and drop them off in the guesthouse, then dragged her between the different stalls, chattering animatedly. Katara had never really gotten to have a girlfriend her age, and she couldn’t believe all that she’d missed out on. For once, she felt her age. Back home, she took care of so many of the village kids whose parents had been lost to fire nation raids. She felt like it was her responsibility, that it was the least she could do, and she did enjoy it.

But perhaps she hadn’t quite grasped what it had taken out of her.

For every hour Sokka spent hunting for food and training to be a warrior, Katara spent parenting children, washing laundry, cooking, cleaning, repairing homes and weapons. She wished for maybe the millionth time that she and her brother had been able to have proper childhoods, present parents to lift that burden from them. She remembered Aang reminding her that she still was a kid.

Here, walking around the market with Ayiti, she slipped into conversation excitedly, the two’s conversation oscillating between mentions of what the war had taken from them and more lighthearted teasing, and she was beyond grateful for the simplicity of a friend who saw her.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ this will be coming out along with the rest of ch4 on wednesday! check out the first three chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 1 day

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Xan you pls so some nash sad headcanons?

of course<3. may be shorter than my other sad hcs cause i'm currently sick. i might make some more when i feel better. small, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, self harm, and tobias hawthorne. hope you enjoy!

he's obviously extremely protective of his brothers. so much that, when skye or tobias got mad at one of them, nash would convince them it was his fault so they wouldn't hurt his brothers' feelings

this is less of a head canon cause he mentioned this in tbh, but nash is convinced that everyone will someday leave him, and that he'll end up alone.

although tobias and skye hurt him a lot (verbally, they didn't hit him obviously), he had to pretend he was fine all of the time for his brothers. they thought he was a disappointment because he didn't act like a 'real' hawthorne. he didn't tell anyone.

the pressure he puts on himself sometimes becomes too much. so much that he's considered ending his life by jumping off of a bridge/overdosing on smth.

high school was extremely tough for him but no one knew. he felt like he had the world on his shoulders and couldn't speak to anyone about it. his grades would start going down (mind you, they were still great), and tobias would get mad at him. he'd try extra hard to succeed, and he did, but at the cost of his mental health

the reason why he has a savior complex is bc he wishes he could've saved his brothers from everything that tobias did to them. it became even worse after emily. he thinks it was his responsibility to warn them and help them. he know thinks he has to save everyone to make up for it.

nash thinks of himself as a complete failure. so much that sometimes simply looking in the mirror makes him cry.

this one will sound corny but he saves everyone but himself (he doesn't think he deserves to feel better)

he puts everyone's needs in front of his own. he sometimes doesn't eat, sleep, etc just to help his family. (he ended up in the hospital once cause he passed out due to malnutrition)

when nash was younger, he wanted his father in his life so badly he would go beg tobias to tell him his name. he wanted someone who would be there for him bc no one else was.

he used to think there was smth wrong with him bc he wasn't like his other brothers. at the same time, he knew it was partly bc he knew how messed up his grandfather was, but he still wished he could be like the others/accepted.

tobias used to tell him that he was extremely disappointed in him all the time. tobias wanted him to take care of more than he could take. tobias didn't actually care if it took everything out of nash, he just didn't want to take care of everyone else himself.

tobias used to hear him cry at night but didn't do shit to help him. he thought that nash had to toughen up (he was like 13)

nash doesn't like letting other people do things for him bc it makes him hate himself even more. he feels bad when people take on what he thinks is his responsibility. at the same time, it makes him cry cause it makes him feel loved.

he gets mad at himself bc he thinks he's overreacting all the time. he tells himself other people have it worse and that he has no right to complain when he has such a good life.

in high school, he was actually in some pretty sketchy friend group. they took drugs and stuff and got him into it. nash never got addicted, but he now takes drugs when everything becomes too much for him.

in my jamie head canons, i said that he hits punching bags until his hands start bleeding (and even that doesn't stop him sometimes). i think the same goes for nash. he wouldn't self harm in a way that made it obvious to himself that he was harming himself. he'd do it in 'subtle' ways that he could convince himself weren't self harm.

his hands are really messed up for multiple reasons. the boxing and the fact that whenever something goes wrong, he bites his nails and the skin around them.

(idk if this one is even possible, but i'm on the verge of falling asleep and want to finish this) when he fails to save someone, he'll stuff his head in a pillow/in his cowboy hat to cut off oxygen. it kind of brings him back to the present when he starts spiraling.

he has really bad anxiety and actually takes pills to deal with it. all of his responsibilities and stuff weigh him down a lot.

he does so much for others that when he got together with libby and she started doing things for him, he'd actually cry. she'd make him breakfast and he'd tell her it was too much.

he used to have trichotillomania (mental health condition that involves irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows, or other areas of your body). over time he got better, but sometimes it comes back when his anxiety is really bad.

he used to make his mom drawings and gifts in hope of getting her attention (she never cared). he used to think it was because his drawings weren't good enough, so he'd try again and again until he realized he was the problem.

nash personally blames himself for all of the pain tobias caused people (like lyra and stuff). for some reason, he thinks he should've stopped him somehow even though that's impossible.

he used to come home really scraped up because he'd get into fights for his brothers whenever someone was mean to them or hurt them. he has some permanent scars on his body bc of the fights, but he still thinks he should've done more.

whenever nash does something he deems 'wrong' he hears tobias' voice in his head telling him he's a failure.

a happy nash head canon to finish this off:

nash, as a kid, loved ducks. he would head to ponds to feed them, and he owned like 294810 books on ducks. he had tiny duck figurines in his bedroom (and still does). he used to make short videos about them and his little trips to the pond with his camera.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs

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mionemymind · 48 minutes

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Can you plsss do an imagine with Wanda (or whoever u feel is right) where reader is a formula 1 driver? It'd be so cool. But you don't hv to ofc. I'm a new follower and i absolutely adore ur works <3

Getaway Driver

Summary: Based off my incorrect quote, Y/n is the getaway driver for Wanda's mission.

Warnings: Shooting, Cursing, Slight Blood, Fluff

A/n: Before y'all comment, I really suck ass at action sequences lmaoo. Please try to imagine something better. But this is for the folks that love F1 and Wanda (@thatdudeusimpfor @canyonyodeler @pikachooo3 @rayisaknight) also gif credits go to Redbull

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

“Lights out and away we go!” The rumble of engines passed by as cars zoomed past the start. The roaring cheers coming from the fans grew louder with each second.

Starting in pole position, Y/n gets away unscathed from the mess in the back as well as her current teammate, Max Verstappen. They stay side by side through the chicane, protecting the front positions as many drivers behind them try to slip past.

In between turns two through five, multiple close calls occur as the the Stake F1 team showcase breaking issues this early on in the race. Y/n hardly got out of the chicane without hearing mishaps from the back.

“Fucking cunt,” George Russel stated to his race engineer, Marcus Dudley. The fans screamed and laughed as the message was played out loud for the whole broadcast to hear.

To mediate the tensions, a commentator stated, “For this British Grand Prix, we have a total of 52 laps with a forecast of dry conditions.”

Coming from the paddock, Will Button announces his guesses for the race today, “It will honestly be a close call for first between the young driver of Redbull, Y/n, and her older teammate, Max. I know a Redbull 1 / 2 position will happen but my money is on Y/n as they’ve been on a winning streak for the past three races. As for third position, Lando Norris in the McClaren would be my final guess.”

Will moved closer to the McClaren garage as multiple shots show off the engineers, mechanics, and leaders. “They’ve recently redesigned their floor as well as the front wing. This big upgrade in the middle of the season might be the break that McClaren has been hoping for since the start of the season.”

Coming up on their first lap, Y/n still leads the race. “51 more to go,” she thinks to herself. Although her head should be in the race, her heart couldn’t help but wish for this race to be already over. A certain red head was all she could think of.

Two hours away from Silverstone, Wanda listens closely for enemies. She could sense two of them guarding the very door she needed to be in. “On my signal,” Steve mouthed.

Just as Steve gave the go ahead, the sound of F1 commentary started to play in Wanda’s ear. “Lights out and away we go!” Wanda walked through the hallway, incapacitating the guards, allowing Natasha and Steve to drag them to an empty room.

Natasha gave Wanda an ‘are you serious’ look as the commentary also played in her comms. “Why am I hearing about a race right now?” They all stood outside the entrance to the headquarters room. Around five guys and one guard were currently there from the looks of it.

“Sorry, I had meant to only set it to my comms.” Wanda brought out the hologram and changed the settings before looking at Steve for the next set of instructions.

“Since when did you care about racing?” Wanda shrugged in response as Steve signaled with his hands on which people to take care of.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Are you fucking blind?” Y/n yelled to her race engineer. Lance Stroll had almost hit her side at turn seven, almost costing her the race had they actually made contact. “If he keeps racing like that, he’s bound to hurt somebody.”

“Copy that. We’re already in contact with the FIA about that.” Y/n’s grip on the steering wheel hardened. It was only lap 19 of 52 and her nerves were getting the best of her. She knew the race was going to be easy but her excitement to see Wanda again was causing her to lose focus.

“I hope she’s watching me somehow,” Y/n thought. It was stupid to hope though as the driver knew Wanda was currently on a mission. It would be highly unlikely that she would watch her race, there were more important things than watching cars go round and round.

Regardless though, winning this race was important to Y/n. This was the first race as an official couple. While the media hasn’t found out yet, she certainly didn’t want to give Wanda a bad impression. After all, if your girlfriend was continuously saving lives, the least she could do was win a race.

“This ones for you Wanda.”

“That should be the last of them.” Steve tied up the last enemy on base and sent the coordinates to backup for retrieval. “Let’s get to the rendezvous point. It’s around 30 minutes west from here on foot.”

Wanda pulled out her secured phone as they walked out the secured building. She opened up the F1 app and immediately tuned in for the last couple minutes of the race.

“We have a battle between the two Red Bulls, Max Verstappen and Y/n Y/l/n, for P1.” Steve gave a disapproving nod as they walked through London, trying their best to blend in with the crowd. Wanda could care less of Steve’s approval for her antics. The mission was nearly over and she wanted to at least support her girlfriend from far away.

“Oh God! There’s a crash at Luffield! It’s a Mercedes!” Wanda watched in horror as the car flipped through the gravel multiple times before hitting the fence, landing in an awkward position. Had the gravel not been there, the car would have surely gone through the fence. A safety car was brought out, allowing people to pit.

“I believe that was George Russel’s car that had just crashed.” Wanda flipped through the drivers until she found Y/n. Although she knew that wasn’t her car, seeing her safe and sound brought Wanda relief.

“Jesus, is George okay?” Y/n asked. Wanda smiled at her girlfriend’s natural concern. Although it was one lap away from finishing, it was nice to know that the safety of others was the first thing that Y/n thought of.

“Wanda.” Looking up, Natasha gave a silent command to put her phone away. “We have people tailing us. When I say go, run as fast as you can. Make sure to stay close.”

Slyly looking back, Wanda could point out the people that looked out of place. “Fuck me.”

“Thank you all for the wonderful race! The car was practically a bullet and everyone did so amazing today.” Y/n slid into first place and did a mini celebration on her car.

As the camera crew came closer, she jumped in front of them and grabbed the camera. Taking off her helmet and balaclava, Y/n yelled, “This win is for my beautiful girlfriend! Can’t wait to see you babe!”

Looking at the time on the screen, Y/n rushed past the cameras and went straight into the paddock. She ignored all the weird glances and congratulations she got on the way, the race win still fueling her adrenaline.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Christian yelled but Y/n ignored it. It wasn’t like Red Bull had the balls to fire her for not celebrating.

Her assistant, Niya, had followed suit as Y/n took off her helmet into her dressing room. “Is my car ready Niya?” She nodded as she typed up a statement on her iPad. The team was going to be unhappy at the lack of answers but she knew they were ultimately happy with the points she scored for the team.

In no time, Y/n was out of her race suit and in an all black attire. She ran out of her room, yelling a thank you to Niya. Up on the screens, it showed Max at P2 while Lando was at P3 just like Will guessed. Several news outlets tried to catch up to Y/n, but she was not having it.

“For the first time in F1 history, we don’t have the P1 spot filled. It seems our winner of the race had an emergency situation to attend to. Regardless, congratulations to Red Bull for the 1 / 2 positions.”

Y/n smiled at Will’s comment as she passed the gates. This was going to be all over the news ‘Y/n runs off after P1 victory’. Yet Y/n could care less for all the speculations. She had to see her girl and nothing was stopping her.

Hopping into her jet black Ferrari, Y/n sped out Silverstone. It was around an hour drive to the rendezvous point, but knowing the country like the back of her hand, she was guaranteed to make it on time.

“Does anyone know who the getaway driver is today? Fury stated that we’ll know the day of the mission, but I was never briefed about it,” Steve inquired as the team finally got away from the enemies.

Wanda glanced up from her phone, “It’s my new girlfriend.” Not a lot of things shocked the assassin and the super soldier, but that comment did.

“Is she qualified?” Natasha quipped. She found it strange that Wanda hadn’t mentioned her new partner. In addition, the lack of information on Wanda’s girlfriend was also alarming. What if she was the enemy? What if she was an assassin? So many questions ran through her head, but kept her anxiety at bay.

“More than qualified,” Wanda stated with a proud smile, “She’s a driver at her day job. Plus Fury gave the approval for it just for this mission only.”

Natasha and Steve digested Wanda’s words and continued to walk. However, Natasha wanted to know more, even if Fury did approve of it. “How did you two meet?”

“Funny story, I was actually running away…”

Wanda was surrounded. At every single avenue and exit was a marked enemy and with no back up, she only had herself to rely on. “Shit.”

Wanda hurried herself out of the hotel, still noticing all the eyes around her. Thank goodness that it was still broad daylight. The enemies weren’t that careless to attract a crowd.

As if sending a silent prayer, all attention diverted to the red ferrari that pulled up to the hotel. Before the valet could go up, Wanda rushed to and opened the passenger seat. She hopped in and closed the door.

Turning to the driver’s side, Wanda fully expected some old man to occupy the seat, but when her eyes met comforting brown eyes, a pretty smile, and furrowed eyebrows, she was hooked. The red head was distracted for a couple of seconds, before asking, “Do you know how to drive?”

Wanda knew she looked ridiculous. Any sane person would immediately kick her out, heck even call the police. Furthermore, the chances of a rich stranger even offering help was little to none, but when Wanda reached for Y/n’s emotions, she was even more surprised to see that this stranger didn’t feel any of that.

“I do.” The accent almost made Wanda forget everything, but the sight of enemies getting closer made her focus.

“Then drive.”

“So you hijacked your girlfriend’s car, asked her to get you out of a sticky situation, and then survived?” Steve chuckled at Natasha’s question. The story felt like something out of an action movie, but then again, they were superheroes, so anything could happen.

“I don’t know how, but she managed to get me out of Spain safely. I even asked her to drop me off at our pickup location. Her car wasn’t bulletproof, but she was so fast, they could hardly get a scratch on her.” Wanda smiled at the memory of their first encounter.

“At the end, she didn’t even ask why I needed to run away. I think she recognized me from the news and just wanted to help. But before I left, she asked for a date.” How crazy does one need to be to ask the very person that put you in danger on a date?

“I said yes because why not? I liked her and it was the least I could do after she spent a whole hour driving.” It was Natasha’s turn to laugh at how made up the whole story sounded. But when the assassin could not pick up on a single lie, it made her chuckle more.

“Well I can’t wait to meet her,” Steve remarked. They were 10 minutes away from the pick up point.

“And she better knows how to drive,” Natasha added. Wanda nodded quickly, the nerves finally making its way to her head.

“I promise. She’s good.”

“Where is she?” Natasha didn’t mean to sound aggressive, but they were still on a mission, something she ran a tight ship on. The crew were a minute early to the pick up point and Wanda had forgotten to ask Y/n to share her location. Right now, the witch paced back and forth with her phone in hand.

The assassin didn’t want to add to Wanda’s already nervous state but they needed to leave. Before Wanda could send another message, a loud car screeched to a halt in front of them. Once the smoke settled, Wanda smiled at the sight of the getaway car.

Opening the car door, Y/n got out, wearing a suit similar to her driver attire but in all black. “Am I late?” The wide cocky smile on Y/n’s face was hard to hide. The driver knew she was on time but didn’t dare to comment.

Immediately noticing her girlfriend, Y/n closed the door and picked Wanda up by the thighs, spinning her around. The giggle that escaped Wanda’s lips almost made Natasha barf at how love sick the two were.

As Y/n placed Wanda back down, she pulled her in by the waist and gave her a long kiss. The two almost forgot that they were in front of a crowd as Wanda ran her hands through Y/n’s hair.

Natasha wanted to grumble at the unprofessionality but Steve’s look stopped her. Wanda was in love. This was something Steve had never seen before, and he was not going to dare to ruin it. This wasn’t to say that the assassin wasn’t happy for Wanda. She really was, but the mission was still the priority.

Breaking the kiss, Y/n mumbled, “I’m not too late am I babe?” Wanda shook her head no as a large smile was plastered on her face.

While holding Wanda’s hand, Y/n looked at Steve and Natasha, “Hi. I’m Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you.” Letting go of Wanda’s hand, Y/n reached out to shake their hands.

Steve was the first to shake Y/n’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you. My name is Steve.”

Natasha bumped Steve out the way and shook Y/n’s hand, immediately liking the firm grip Y/n had. “I’m Natasha. It’s nice to meet you, but I think we should get out of here.”

Stepping back to Wanda’s side, “You’re right, let’s get y’all out of here.” Y/n stepped around to open Wanda’s door, something both Steve and Natasha mentally noted.

Once everyone was buckled in, it was like a switch flipped inside Y/n’s brain as she zoomed from the meetup location.

“I think someone is following us.” Everyone besides Y/n turned around and noticed the entourage that was trying their best to follow.

They were barely 10 minutes away from the location before more enemies found them. “Do you think you can lose them?” Steve asked, ready to fight. Two of the five cars started to get closer. Y/n looked at her side mirror, hearing the sound of turbo being applied.

“Those two will be a problem,” Y/n stated.

“I’ll handle that.” Natasha rolled down her window and began to shoot the tires of the cars. After a couple tries, the red head got back in the car with a huff. “They’re bullet proof. Wanda can you handle them?”

Before Wanda could reply, a rocket exploded in front of them. Due to her quick reflexes, Y/n managed to evade the direct blast. The debris got all over the side of their car and to the two cars behind them. Steering the car back onto the road, Y/n noticed Wanda eyes flashed red.

“I’m getting rid of them.” Wanda rolled down her window, and focused on the closest car. The enemy had switched their turbo on, hitting their car from the back. Y/n grabbed Wanda’s leg, making sure her girlfriend didn’t stumble out.

Using her magic, she casted the enemy car to a different direction, causing them to hit a nearby tree, exploding on impact. The wind, heat, and debris flew by Wanda as she focused on the last car.

As she used her focus to misdirect them, the enemy had gotten out and started to shoot. A bullet has grazed Wanda’s shoulder, causing her to go back into the car.

“Fuck-”

“Language-”

“-they got me.” Y/n’s hands turned white as her grip on the wheel tightened. At this speed, the driver knew that Steve’s shield was useless. Not only that, bullets were useless to the enemy car as well.

“My turn.” Shifting her gears, Y/n whipped the car around as she started to drive backwards. Lining her shot up, Y/n waited till the enemy car was directly in front of her.

Looking at the rear view, Y/n knew a sharp ledge was coming. “Babe,” Wanda said in an alarmed tone.

“I got this.” Still driving backwards, the enemy car finally was in line, pressing the grapple button, the car tethered to the enemy car causing them to slightly swerve.

In a second, Y/n whipped the car using their momentum to drag the enemy car off the ledge. Y/n pressed the release button as the enemy continued to shoot at them. Within the next second, the enemy car was sent off the edge.

As Y/n straightened the car once more, she noticed the explosion in the rear view. Feeling satisfied, Y/n stepped up and drove even faster to the rendezvous point.

“Are you going to be okay babe?” The crew had made it safely to base. Unfortunately for Wanda, it meant Y/n had no clearance to enter.

Holding the cloth tighter to her shoulder, Wanda smiled. “I’m going to be okay. Are you sure you don’t need me to ask them to provide you safe passage back home?”

Y/n shook her head no as she pulled Wanda close. By now, the adrenaline was still in her bones, but the high intense feeling was something she was used to. But what she felt for Wanda was something scarier, something the driver never felt for anyone before.

“I’ll be safe. Plus, I’m hoping you friends can put in a good word for me. Do you think they were impressed?” Y/n and Wanda looked back, noticing Steve and Natasha were staring at them. Pretending like they weren’t just caught, the pair started to act like they were working ‘working’.

“I think so. Even if they don’t, I think you were amazing today.” Wanda placed several kisses on Y/n’s cheeks, feeling overwhelmingly happy that everything turned out well. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your race today.”

Y/n held Wanda’s free hand. “No need to apologize babe. There’s plenty more that you can attend.”

“I didn’t get to see it, but did you win?”

“I did. Couldn’t let my girl down now.” Wanda bit her lip as she blushed at Y/n’s words.

“Your girl?” A cocky smile was on Y/n’s face. She placed a quick kiss on Wanda’s rosey cheeks, causing the red head to blush even more.

“Yup, my girl.” Unable to take Y/n’s gaze anymore, Wanda pulled Y/n in for another kiss. Although she knew Steve and Natasha were still looking, their gazes didn’t bother her. Especially when Y/n dipped her, deepening the kiss.

As they slowly broke apart, Wanda couldn’t help but glance at Y/n’s lips, loving the way they looked plumped after kissing them. “As much as I want to continue kissing you, you need to seek medical attention babe.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, not enjoying the reminder of having to go away. “Are you going to text me?”

“Of course. I’ll try and facetime you as soon as I get back to my hotel.” Wanda pouted, hating the fact they had such busy schedules. “I’ll be back to you before you know it.”

With a quick peck, Y/n started to walk backwards to her new assigned car. “And watch my celebration! I think you’ll love it.”

Y/n blew Wanda a kiss as she entered the car. The sound of the roaring engine was heard throughout the base as Y/n sped out.

Natasha walked to Wanda, placing an arm around her back. “Her background check passed.”

Wanda glanced at Natasha, “Did you seriously just run a background check on my girlfriend?”

Natasha shrugged as she led Wanda into the base.

“What? I have to know since she’s going to be our getaway driver again.”

“Again?”

Natasha nodded. “Again.”

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 2 days

Text

This story started with Guthláf, Théoden’s banner bearer. To carry a flag in war was (in LOTR and real life) very dangerous, and it got me thinking about the kind of person who would willingly take on that danger and why (see here for Guthláf’s answer). And then I got thinking about what it would be like to love that kind of person and have to watch them do something so brave and glorious and selfless but also so perilous. And that brought me to Wídfara.

Like Guthláf, Wídfara exists in canon for just a few sentences. He’s from the Wold. He’s intuitive about the weather. That’s it from Tolkien. But I do so love an obscure horse boy of Rohan, and two together is even better. Here they are in part 1 of 7, where our boys have their first meeting.

August, T.A. 3017

When he’d taken a third wrong turn in as many tries, Wídfara finally decided to ask someone on the street for help. Unfortunately, getting anyone in Edoras to stop to answer his questions proved even harder than finding his own way around the city. It wasn’t that people were unfriendly or unwilling to assist, but rather that they didn’t seem to even notice him as he tentatively raised a hand or stammered out the beginnings of a greeting. Everyone walked so quickly and with such a busy sense of purpose that they were invariably four steps past him already by the time he got his first few words out.

A quick glance up at the sun told him that he was going to be late if he didn’t get himself together soon, and the last thing he wanted was to make a poor impression on his very first day. He already had enough working against him – his simple country clothing, his thick rural accent, his obvious cluelessness in navigating his way around, all of which marked him clearly as an outsider – and he didn’t need his new éored thinking that he was careless or unreliable on top of everything else. He shifted his pack on his back, hastened his steps around another corner and felt a wash of relief at the sight of a garrison complex with the king’s banner flying in front.

An older man, clad to the waist in armor and standing with a rigid military bearing, waited on the front steps of the central building, just under the banner. His eyes scanned all the passersby, and when they landed on Wídfara they lit up with a spark of intuited recognition. The rigidity melted away in an instant, and he beckoned Wídfara over with a smile and a welcoming wave.

“I’m on the lookout for a new rider just in from the East-mark, and I would bet my horse that you’re him. And right on time, too. My name is Elfhelm.”

Wídfara dropped his pack and stood to attention. For all that he didn’t know about Edoras, he certainly knew the name of Elfhelm, the commander of the garrison and the functional First Marshal of the Mark any time the king himself wasn’t present. “Yes, Marshal. I just arrived in the city last night. My name is Wídfara, sir.”

Elfhelm’s bushy eyebrows shot upward at the distinctive heavy twang of Wídfara’s words. “The Third Marshal told me he was sending us a real country boy, and I see that he wasn’t exaggerating. Where exactly are you from, son?”

Elfhelm’s open, casual manner took Wídfara by surprise. Back home, his captain had been a rather grim man, one who never spoke an unnecessary word or showed his riders even a hint of his own personality, and Wídfara had expected the leaders of Edoras, some of the most powerful in the kingdom, to be even more stern. But yet again, it seemed, he simply had no understanding of how life in the capital actually worked. “I’m born and raised in the Wold, Marshal,” he answered. “My family has run herds out there for generations. It’s quite…” He glanced around at the bustling rush of people moving in and out of the collection of buildings around them. “It’s different from the city.”

Elfhelm nodded with a sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s certainly true. I imagine that Edoras can seem a little overwhelming at first to someone who’s spent his whole life in a place like the Wold. And an éored reordering is never easy on anyone. Saying goodbye to the people and places you’ve always known is a rough task.”

Wídfara swallowed hard on the lump that immediately formed in his throat. It had been less than a week since he’d been forced to say those goodbyes, gathered together with family and friends and brothers-in-arms out near his old post in the plains where the Limlight joined the Anduin. The Wold had never been a thickly populated area – the land was too unforgiving, the semi-nomadic lifestyle of the herdsmen too harsh – but as more and more families moved out of the grasslands and into the East-mark’s larger settlements and towns, an independent éored for the Wold had become increasingly unsustainable. No one had been particularly surprised when the reordering was announced, but it had been painful nonetheless and especially so for Wídfara. Because while his friends were reassigned to one of the three surrounding éoreds in the Eastemnet, all within a few hours ride of home, he had been singled out for transfer to Edoras, a place so foreign to him that it might as well have been Dunland or Rhûn.

His face seemed to betray some of his thoughts to Elfhelm, who put a large, comforting hand on Wídfara’s shoulder. “Change can be tough, son, but it also presents opportunity. And you’ve been given a golden one here. It’s not often that someone gets called up to the king’s éored – I can only remember one other time that it happened, and my memory stretches back longer than you’ve been alive. But your old captain was adamant that there isn’t a finer mounted bowman in all of Rohan and it would be a waste to just reassign you to yet another remote outpost. If you’re even half as good as the men of the East-mark claim, you can make a real name for yourself here.”

Wídfara felt his face grow hot, and he looked down at his feet. No one had told him how this transfer had come to be, and the thought of that dour, taciturn captain singing his praises to anyone was almost more than he could believe. And while he was proud of his own talent, he felt an instinctual urge to defend against the implication that the other riders of the Wold were any less skillful. “Everyone who grew up where I did learned early to shoot from a moving horse, sir,” he offered. “A herd will always attract wolves.”

Elfhelm chuckled. “That may be so, but your captain didn’t convince the Third Marshal of the Mark to send just any old herdsman to us. He picked you. Try to remember that.” A bell behind him tolled, and he glanced toward the door over his shoulder. “I need to get back to some other business, so we’d best get you on your way. You’ll be living in Barracks A with the other unmarried men of the company. You can drop your belongings there and then head over to the armorer to get everything you need. Training starts tomorrow at sunrise.”

“Thank you, Marshal.”

Elfhelm was already halfway out of sight before Wídfara realized that he had no idea how to find either Barracks A or the armorer. He considered calling after Elfhelm for help, but the marshal had indicated that he was busy and surely his other tasks were more important than giving basic directions to an ill-informed newcomer. Instead, he reshouldered his pack with a sigh, resigned to wandering the complex until chance took pity on him again, and he took a few hesitant steps toward his left.

“Other way, Wídfara!”

He looked up to see Elfhelm watching him from the doorway, one foot already inside and the door itself held open with his elbow. The older man laughed and nodded in the opposite direction. “Second building on the right. Can’t miss it.”

A furious blush rushed back to Wídfara’s cheeks, and he winced as he felt it spread across his ears and neck. “Sorry, Marshal. I’m still…I’ll learn my way quickly, I promise.”

Elfhelm stepped back outside, allowing the door to close behind him as he walked a few paces toward Wídfara again. “It’s alright to be new, son. You just need someone to help show you the way of things here.” He cast an appraising eye over Wídfara and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip for a moment. “Keep an eye out for Guthláf. He’s from Edoras, but his mother grew up in the Eastemnet and he spent much of his childhood out there. He even talks a lot like you do. You’ll like him, and he’ll help you get to feeling like home again.” He turned once more to head inside.

“Marshal Elfhelm?” Wídfara called after him. “How do I find him? Guthláf, I mean.”

Elfhelm looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “Anywhere there are people gathered, he’ll be right in the middle of it. You can count on that. He’s one of our best, and he’ll take good care of you. Just don’t let him talk you into playing dice with him unless you’ve got money to burn.” He pulled open the door and his last few words drifted out from the hallway. “See you at training first thing tomorrow!”

Wídfara rolled over again, grimacing as his left shoulder made contact with the floor. One of his first tasks that day had been to see the garrison’s armorer, where he had been fitted for new equipment and received the distinctive tattoo that would identify him as a member of the king’s éored: a small crown above a hill. Each éored had its own mark, used as a crude means of identification in the event that a rider was injured or killed far from home, and the armorers typically etched the designs onto the shoulders of new members, punching a small ink-tipped needle repeatedly into the skin to create the necessary lines and curves. The new tattoo left a lingering pain in Wídfara’s arm, though it was minimal compared to the ache he felt in his heart when he watched the armorer draw a line through his old éored’s mark, casually crossing out an entire decade of his life with a few minute’s quick work. But that had just been the start to an increasingly difficult day.

The éored’s clerk seemed unaware that Wídfara had joined the company, and no arrangements had been made yet for his pay. Wídfara was counting on those funds to support his parents back in the Wold, especially now that he was no longer close enough to help his father with the herd work during his free hours, and the possibility that his first wages would be significantly delayed left a sour feeling in his stomach. Then he had gotten lost on his way to the mess hall and again between the mess hall and the stables, where he discovered that the stablehand sent to fetch his horse from last night’s boarding house had brought back the wrong animal. At every turn, he seemed to be in the wrong place, with the wrong information, running into obstacle after obstacle while being constantly asked to repeat himself as the city dwellers struggled to understand his accent.

He had greeted the eventual coming of night with urgent relief, happy to retreat to the privacy of his little room in the barracks where, at least for a few hours, he knew where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing. But even then, he struggled. The small, soft bed in the room felt unnatural to him after so much time spent sleeping rough in field camps or out on the plains with his family’s horses, and he quickly gave up on it, crafting himself a makeshift bedroll on the floor instead. After an hour of further tossing and turning, though, he realized that the bed wasn’t the only thing that felt wrong. A windowless box barely big enough for both the empty bed and his nest of blankets on the floor was a poor substitute for having shimmering stars overhead and endless golden plains around him, and he wondered how he would ever find rest in such a confined little space. He sat up, frustrated, and decided to take a walk in an attempt to clear his mind.

The streets, at least, were much more enjoyable to him at night, when few others were out and about. It was quieter, and he could walk at his own pace without worrying that he was holding up someone behind him. Keeping close attention to where he turned and how to retrace his steps, he headed up a hill, thinking to get a good view of the city from the top of the rise and perhaps be able to better orient himself amidst the maze of the city’s layout.

It took only a few minutes from the barracks to reach the peak of the hill, but he was disappointed to find that the view down onto Edoras and the surrounding plains was largely obscured by a thin haze in the air and heavy overhead cloud cover that dimmed the light of the moon. The quiet of his walk was also broken by the presence on the hill of a small tavern, a little wood and stone building from which drifted not only the smell of ale and baked bread but the clamor of voices and laughter and singing. The windows were aglow with warm yellow light, and he could see a large and boisterous crowd inside, many members of which seemed to be about his age. He considered going in – his rational mind understood that the only way to make friends in new surroundings was to put himself where other people were – but the thought of dozens of bodies pressed into such a small building made him a bit panicky, and he had already used all the energy his mind could spare that day for navigating the stares, questions and sometimes the judgments of so many others. That would need to be a challenge for tomorrow instead.

He leaned against a corner of the tavern and gazed northeast, back toward the beloved home that was now obscured by the intervention of both distance and weather. A gentle breeze blew from that direction, and he closed his eyes to savor the soft feel of it against his cheek and in his hair. There was a clean, earthy scent to the air, and he willed himself to believe that this sign of a clearer morning on its way could also mean that good things were on their way for him.

At that very moment, the door of the tavern flew open, bouncing noisily off the wall, and a tiny gray dog scampered out, followed by the striding figure of a man in the uniform of his éored.

“I just need to let Slaga out for a minute,” the man called back to unseen companions inside. “Hold the game for me, and I’ll be right back to finish taking the rest of your money.” A laughing chorus of boos rang out as the door swung closed again, and the man chuckled to himself.

Wídfara registered the stranger’s words as they were spoken, but what flooded his heart with joyful recognition was the lilting drawl of their delivery, the comfortingly specific cadence and tone that represented Rohirric as Wídfara’s ear had always heard it voiced. It was the sound of his cousins calling to him from across the grasslands, his friends teasing and joking as they sat around a fire at night. It was the sound of his old life, and he wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

The other man was crouched down now, cooing affectionate endearments at the tiny dog that bounded in adoring circles around his feet, and Wídfara lightly cleared his throat. The man froze at the sound, the last doting little trill dying on his tongue, and he smiled sheepishly when he looked up and saw Wídfara standing just feet away. “I’m sorry. I thought Slaga and I were alone out here or I surely would have kept that to myself.” He stood and extended his hand in Wídfara’s direction. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Guthláf.”

Guthláf. The name chimed immediately in Wídfara’s memory, and he smiled to himself at how effortlessly correct Elfhelm had been on all fronts – where Guthláf would be found, how soothingly familiar he would sound to Wídfara, and how quickly just a few words of that familiar sound would kindle a feeling of comfort and kinship in him. He closed the distance between them with a few steps, and in the dim light that shone from the windows he found himself face to face with an unusually tall, well built man with long blonde waves, a trim blonde beard, and striking eyes of the palest blue. He gripped Guthláf’s hand with grateful enthusiasm and smiled. “Wídfara. You wouldn’t have seen me before, as I only just got here.”

“I certainly don’t have to ask where you came from,” Guthláf said, and Wídfara thought he detected a slight strengthening of Guthláf’s matching accent in the reply. “Welcome to Edoras, Wídfara. What brings you here?”

Wídfara nodded at Guthláf’s uniform. “I’ll be joining your company starting first thing tomorrow.”

“Is that right? We’ll be glad to have you. The boys could use an eastern rider to show them how it’s really done.” He glanced down briefly at the dainty little dog that was now cautiously sniffing Wídfara’s boots. “Don’t hold it against me. The absurd fussing with the dog, I mean. Every man has an embarrassing weakness, and I guess Slaga is mine.”

“Think nothing of it.” Truthfully, in any other circumstance Wídfara would have found both the toy-sized dog and the indulgent spoiling of it a little ridiculous, but he wasn’t about to say that to the first person in the city to take any interest in him. Outside of Elfhelm, who as Wídfara’s commanding officer was certainly no peer of his, it had been a struggle that day just to be noticed by anyone else, let alone engaged with or welcomed. Wídfara was eager not to squander this opportunity, especially with someone who seemed so friendly and good natured. “I love dogs and have nearly always had one myself, though admittedly never one that size.”

“He is small, isn’t he? I got him when he was a puppy and expected him to get bigger as he got older, but he just never did. And by the time I realized I had myself a lapdog, the rascal had already worked his way into my heart.” He bent down and scooped Slaga up into his arms, where he quickly settled with the look of one who spent a lot of time in just that position. Wídfara reached out and gave the dog a gentle rub behind the ears, which was received with a small, contented sigh.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers,” said Guthláf, looking up with a smile. “But then again, you’re not a stranger anymore, are you, Wídfara of the East-mark?”

Wídfara couldn’t identify anything unusual or remarkable about the way this question was asked, nothing that would explain the sudden rush of warmth that settled over him when that open, earnest smile was turned in his direction. But it was there all the same. “Not a stranger, at least not in the technical sense. And I would hope one day to be a friend, though I wouldn’t presume to call you that yet.”

“No? Why not?”

“You barely know anything about me.”

“But that’s not a problem. Discovering things about each other is half the fun of friendship.” He inclined his head and fixed Wídfara with a long, thoughtful look. “And I have a feeling there is much to discover about you.”

The steady gaze of those cool, blue eyes sent an anxious flutter shimmering through Wídfara’s chest, and he looked away. Before he could muster the nerve to speak again, the tavern door opened, and a red-haired head popped out.

“Guthláf, if the game doesn’t restart soon, Hildred insists he’ll take his losses back and charge you interest for making him wait.”

Guthláf laughingly rolled his eyes and waved a hand in concession. “Buy him another ale from my pot and tell him I’ll be right there.” The red haired man nodded and went back inside, and Guthláf turned once again to Wídfara.

“Do you ever play dice? If you’ve got the time now, you can join us, and by the end of the game you’ll have ten more great friends, I promise. Though I can’t promise I won’t take your money.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m something of a professional.”

Wídfara laughed. “Believe it or not, I’ve already been warned against playing dice with you, and I don’t know the rules anyway. But I appreciate the offer.” The temptation to stay in the kindly glow of Guthláf’s company was strong, but the tumult of the busy tavern still intimidated him. And the length of the day, with its many ups and downs, was beginning to catch up with him at last. “Will I…or, rather, I hope I’ll see you at training in the morning?”

He cringed inside at how needful the question sounded to his ears, but if Guthláf heard it that way he gave no sign. Instead, he smiled broadly and tapped a fist against Wídfara’s arm.

“Of course. I’ll look for you there, friend. Now wish me luck, not that I need it!” He and his dog slipped back inside with a wave, and Wídfara watched through the window just long enough to see them disappear into a rowdy group of men, all wielding mugs and talking excitedly to one another.

Alone again, he turned then to retrace his steps, mercifully finding his way back to the barracks without incident, and he stretched out once more on his floor with a heavy yawn. The weight of sleep closed in on him quickly, and he soon drifted into the comfort of peaceful rest, where a pair of the palest blue eyes lingered in his dreams.

Notes: Guthláf’s dog is named Slaga, which means “Killer.” Presumably he chose that name before he realized his “puppy” was already full grown and would always be a lil’ tea cup.

@emmanuellececchi @konartiste @sotwk @dreambigdreamz (I don’t usually have a tag list but I tried to @ people who had specifically requested it at some point — if you want off (or on, I guess) don’t hesitate to say so!)

Dividers by the lovely @quillofspirit ♥️

#guthláf #wídfara #rohan #forth eorlingas #obscure blorbos #♥️🐎🗡️#horse boys in love #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #guthlaf #widfara

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