#I hope they’re reunited soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandoalorian · 1 year

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #smut #tlou #the last of us

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grandline-fics · 4 months

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All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS: Just fluff

CHARACTERS: Sabo, Sanji |Luffy,Zoro,Shanks

WORD COUNT: 1,107

A/N: Hope everyone has a wonderful and happy New Year. Be safe however you celebrate.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

——————

SABO

The role of Chief of staff to the Revolutionary Army was one Sabo would never give up. To even consider that would be laughable to him. Yes it was dangerous at times and hard work but a difference was being made and it was rewarding. However on long missions like these that took him away from you on extended periods of time his resolve did get tested. On the one hand the growing agitation of being away from you could at times make him distracted but on the other hand the anticipation of being in your presence again was a very strong motivator to get the mission finished as soon as possible.

It was a blessing in disguise that the events on Dressrosa greatly intensified for Sabo just when his need to hurry things along was reaching its limit. Reuniting with Luffy and the chance to get Ace’s devil fruit steeled his mind to keep on track enough until everything was completed. Satisfied that he had done all he needed to and that Luffy was safe he finally made the return to the Revolutionary base. When he set his feet on the island he considered home he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face, knowing that finally seeing you would be only minutes away and no longer days or weeks.

Knowing he had one more duty to conclude he ran as fast as he could to Dragon’s office, the small line of line coming from beneath the door telling him his commander was still awake. Sabo barely knocked once before entering and rattled through a condensed and hurried summary of the mission and its success in record time. Dragon was used to this by now, all too aware of the childlike giddiness that took over his second in command when every fibre in his body was being pulled to wherever you were in desperation. “Just go Sabo, but just be mindful that they’re sleeping.”

Sabo’s face fell into a heavy pout as he left the room and walked to the living quarters he shared with you. Logically he told himself that you’d both been apart for long enough that the rest of the night wouldn’t be too long of a wait by comparison. Then again logic wasn’t his priority. He needed to be with you, his whole body compelled him to be near you now. When he entered your shared bedroom he took in your peaceful sleeping form and felt his heart race just a little faster. Quickly shedding his coat, gloves and boots he climbed into the bed instead of doing his usual nighttime routine and wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as humanly possible against his chest while he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

“Welcome back Chief…” he grinned at your greeting, slurred and heavy with sleep. Lightly he pressed a kiss against your shoulder as your fingers found their way into his blond hair and curled against the nape of his neck. As you felt Sabo’s body relax on top of yours as sleep finally claimed him you let your mind linger just a little longer on the edge of consciousness. As much as you wanted to go back to sleep your body needed to anchor yourself to him too, to keep him close and take in his warmth and the feel of him again for as long as possible.

SANJI

Cooking was his passion and he’d never want to do anything else. However on a day like this he did resent it just a little. With a feast to beat all other feasts needing to be made it meant he was practically a prisoner in his own kitchen with no end to the meals he had to make in sight. Damn Luffy for making such a huge declaration with very little time to prepare and after such a long battle it meant he hadn’t seen you in what felt like a lifetime. With a heavy pout he tried to make the food as quickly as possible while still ensuring it was the best quality as always. The only problem was he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He wanted to see your face, hear your voice and laugh, embrace the feeling of your presence that he just could never get enough of. When he first met you he fell hard and knew that what he felt for you was far different than any other passing infatuation he’d experienced. Something told him that this was real and he made sure to enjoy every day with you being on the crew. It was just a shock but a very pleasant one that you also developed feelings for him too during the adventures on the crew and not once did he ever take it for granted.

At the sound of the door opening, Sanji turned ready to yell at Luffy to get out and wait patiently for the feast he was so desperate for only for his anger to die at the sight of you entering the room. Immediately he felt his legs carry him away from the stoves to meet you halfway, the excitement on his face unshakable and infectious as you returned the grin he had. His arms slipped around your body and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head and letting out a soft hum of contentment when your arms tightened around him. “Need any help?” You offered, looking up to smile at him.

“Just having you here is all the help I need, love.” Sanji told you gratefully, pressing one more kiss against your temple before reluctantly pulling away to tend to the mountain of food that still needed to be made. Having the brief moment would be enough to keep him sated until he was done. His heart skipped when you followed closely behind him and tucked yourself against his side. “Everything okay?” He asked, glancing down to see you look over his food in appreciation and a content smile on your lips.

“I’m great, I just know how Luffy’s spontaneity for this feast ruined any plans we had for today.” You told him, leaning your head against his chest. “Plus I missed you.” Sanji couldn’t help but beam at your words. He knew out of the two of you, he could seem the more invested one and sometimes clingy or overly affectionate so it was rewarding to hear you missed him just as much as he had been missing you. Overwhelmed with his rush of emotions he abandoned the food for another brief moment to lean down and kiss you deeply.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #sanji x you #sanji x y/n

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tsimvkas · 8 months

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best friends, uh? — mason mount

A/N: hello 👋🏻 here we are againnnn. please remember that english is my second language so i apologise for any mistake. and thanks to Sid for all the support on this one 🥺 ily bestie!! hope you guys enjoy it xx

word count: 15.5k (lol im sorry for this) | masterlist

content: friends to lovers, unprotected sex, fluff and mild angst.

“Bro, Manchester? That’s so far” your best friend Benjamin brought up the transfer subject, which made your other best friend, Mason, sigh deeply.

The three of you were hanging out since it’s their first day of summer vacation, and your best friends would travel somewhere else soon. It would be only for a few days, but once the league returns everything will be different.

You, Mason and Ben were best friends for a long time now. You met when both of them went to the national team for the first time and you were a journalism intern working

For some reason, they both liked you. And it was easy to like them too, with all the jokes and good energy. When Ben joined Chelsea their bond got even stronger. At that time your career had taken another direction and you were working as a band’s press officer, which allowed you to live in London.

For the last three years your trio has seen each other every week and weekend. You were always attending Chelsea home games, and your boys always came up with something on their days off.

At this point, the three of you felt like family.

Until now, with Mason’s transfer. Ben tried to talk jokingly about it, but you knew he meant it.

Otherwise, you could understand Mason’s decision since the entire last season was a hell of a nightmare to him, and now they both were discussing his last move: signing with Manchester United.

“It’s not like I had a lot of options” Mason shrugged. “I mean, Liverpool didn’t make it to the Champions League and I quite like United, Ben”

“Even Kai will be closer to us” he snorted, clearly upset.

“You’re saying this is a bad thing?” You smirked, taking a sip of your wine. Chilly and Mase were still deciding what they wanted for dinner and the only thing they were capable of ordering was your favourite white wine.

“Don’t tell him I talked about him like that” Ben grinned, finally deciding what to eat. He called the waitress, and Mason ordered both his and yours meal, knowing what you like to eat.

When she wrote everything down and left, Mount spoke again. “Well, actually you’re the only one left behind. Maybe joining City next season and we can be reunited”

“What do you mean?”

“Like the three of us, in the same city”

“Well if you want this to happen then you’ll have to come back to London” Ben frowned, realisation passing through his face seconds later. “No-“

“I haven’t made the decision yet” you cut him. “But the offer has been made, yes”

“You called her to move with you? This is unfair” he snorted.

Mason raised an eyebrow, reaching your thigh under the table and giving a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t do it without my best friend, could I?”

“And what about me, you prick? You want me to carry that shitty team on my backs on my own? I deserve to have the presence of my best friend as well”

“Why are you so afraid, Ben?” Mason smirked. “Oh, cause you know I’m the favourite and she’s going to say yes”

You tried not to laugh. They’re definitely the most funny people you know, and to you it has always been a pleasure that they both chose you as their best friend.

“We are still talking about moving to Manny?” Ben teased his friend. “I’m the favourite, tho”

“Stop” you playfully rolled your eyes, interrupting Mason before they started an argument in the middle of the restaurant. “I don’t have a favourite. And if the pair of you don’t behave like grown men, I’ll move to… I don’t know, Merseyside”

“You would still be living closer to me than to him” Mason giggled, whispering. “Just admit I’m your favourite”

“Shut up, Mason” Chilly stuck his tongue out at his friend, just like a child.

“Why are you two even discussing? You’re already losing your best friend, no matter if I go or if I stay” you pointed, instantly realising that the reason for the little fight about you was to pretend their separation wasn’t a real thing. “Oh, I’m sorry”

“That’s ok, Y/N. We’ll have to deal with it one way or another” Ben smiled.

“But not tonight, alright? I'm already sick of this subject. Let’s have dinner and talk about nonsense stuff and you can laugh at our terrible jokes and things will stay the same. Just for tonight” Mason smiled at you. “When the announcement happens, we’ll face the truth”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding. “Just the three of us tonight, then. Me and my Chelsea boys” you smiled, raising your glass of wine.

When Mason and Ben raised theirs to toast with you, you could swear their eyes were watering.

You forced yourself not to cry.

—

When he came back from Spain after a week with Ben, he invited you to spend a couple of days at his house. It was something natural in your friendship, but this time seemed different.

Mason opened the door wearing a white shorts and a hoodie you’ve never seen before, and instantly smiled at you.

“You’re late” he kissed your forehead, picking your backpack from you and giving you space to enter his house. “But I forgive you”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn’t find my favourite pyjamas” you snorted. It feels like Mason’s house it's yours too, so you feel comfortable enough to go directly to his living room.

“You left them here” he laughed at you, closing the door and following you inside.

“Right, this explains a lot”

His living room was occupied with a lot of suitcases, and you instantly remembered that this was a goodbye weekend.

“You already packed everything?” you asked, feeling your eyes watering.

“Only my favourite clothes. I’ll leave everything else, can’t take all of my stuff to a hotel room” he shrugged.

You nodded. He texted you during his vacation and told you how difficult finding a house in Manchester turned out to be. You were just wishing he could find a place soon, somewhere he could turn into a home.

“Benji is also coming?”

“I spent a lot of time with Ben last week, it’s just me and you” he smiled, but his face turned serious way too fast. “I’ll drive to Manchester Sunday night. It’s our last days together so Ben agreed to stay out”

You never told him you were staying, but you didn’t have to. Mason knew you.

“I’m so sorry, Mase” you felt that familiar lump on your throat, showing up every time you think about it.

You didn’t like the idea of being away from him, but your whole life was in London. For the past couple of weeks you’ve been thinking about it, and your only wish was that you could divide yourself in two. Or that he could stay.

Dividing yourself in two sounded more easy, to be honest.

Mason put your backpack on the couch, quickly embracing your body in his arms.

“That’s ok, sweetheart. You have a life here, Y/N. Family, friends, everything you love. I’m the one leaving” he sighed. “I just hope you understand I’m not leaving you”

You held him tightly, tucking your head in his neck and letting your cry reach you while your best friend stroked your back. After a few minutes like this, Mason pushed you away just enough to look into your eyes.

“We’re not supposed to spend this weekend crying” he smiled, wiping your tears. “Let’s make it unforgettable, okay?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and smiling back at him when you noticed that he swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to cry.

“Everything with you is unforgettable” you pouted, resting your chin on his chest, and Mason ran his thumb across your lower lip, staring at you. “I don’t want you to leave”

“I’ll be back soon” he smirked. You wish it was true.

“Liar” you rolled your eyes, and he laughed. “Your contract says 2028. Five fucking years”

“Language, Y/N. Manchester isn’t that far, and you’ll always be welcome at Old Trafford. At least I’m still playing in the Prem”

“Don’t you dare. Suggest something like this.” you punched his chest, staring at him in disbelief. Watching your favourite person moving to Manchester has been painful enough and the thought of Mason living in another country made your eyes burn again.

“You know I’m never leaving England, Y/N. Not as long as you’re here” he reassured you, but the smirk on his face made you roll your eyes again.

The truth is that Mason felt happiness spreading throughout his body when he realised the way you fear being away from him.

And then instantly guilt almost ate him alive. He wasn’t moving to another country, but with his agenda and how much you work, there’ll be months between one visit and another.

Trying to make these thoughts disappear, Mason grabbed both of your tights until your legs were wrapped around his torso. “Alright, this is way too sad” he whispered, taking you upstairs. “Let’s put on our pj’s, it’s movie time”

“You’ll let me choose?” you held onto his neck, just like a child.

“No” he put you down once he got in his room. “It’ll be the last Avengers. Don’t look at me like that, I know you love it just as much as I do”

“I thought the night was being sad enough? You know I’ll cry with this one”

“I can deal with that” he winked. “I know you really like your favourite pyjamas but would you mind wearing one of my t-shirts tonight? Its’s just- I want to take something with you scent ya know? But you don’t need to- I’ll order our food” he closed his bedroom door before you could answer, his rose cheeks making you giggle.

You quickly changed into one of his black t-shirts and your pyjama shorts, texting him to join you.

Mason opened the door, tucking his head inside his room. “Hey”

You went to him, picking your backpack and tipping his nose. He grinned at the sight of you in his favourite t-shirt.

“Let’s clean this pretty face while we wait the food”

“Pretty face, uh?” he followed you into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He always loved when you called him pretty, because it was important to him that you thought he was pretty.

“What you ordered?”

“Five Guys” he smirked. To be honest, you already knew the answer, once your boy is addicted to it.

“Favourite food and favourite movie” you turned to face him. “It feels like we’re saying goodbye for months”

“Don’t think like that. I’m just trying to have a cosy weekend with you, yeah? But we’ll see each other often. I promise”

You nodded, turning around and grabbing your skin products out of the bag and putting them in the sink. Mason realised you didn’t believe what he said, so he hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.

Your friendship with Mason and Ben has always been like that. They constantly cuddle with you, carry you up and get clingy really easily.

Mason is the touchy one, while Ben is more verbal, and you try your best to love them both in their love language so they can feel loved.

“Help me up” you asked him once you got all of your skincare products in front of you. Mason grabbed your waist when you turned to him, sitting you on the sink counter.

You spread your legs so he could get between them, which he did immediately. He always enjoyed these moments with you, and he knows he’s about to miss this a lot.

“I don’t like the scratchy one” Mason complained, identifying it on the counter and remembering the last time you used it on his face.

“Exfoliating our face sometimes is necessary, Mase. We need to remove dead skin”

“Right, cause there will be no dead skin left if you go faceless. No” he shook his head. “It’s awful”

“You’re being dramatic” you chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose. “I swear I’ll be gentle, big boy”

“You’re always gentle but…” he pouted, but your stare silenced him. “Fine. A smooth face could be useful”

You bit your lower lip, feeling your stomach churn.

“I’m sure girls in Manchester loves smooth faces”

“I was talking about rubbing my face in your neck tonight” he closed his eyes, waiting patiently while you massaged your Vichy soap. “But yeah, I bet they do”

“You’ll need someone to make skincare with you” you tried again, For some reason, you felt like testing him.

“I can FaceTime you, simply”

“But you’ll probably find a friend to do it with you, anyways. You’re really good at making friends”

You didn’t know why you were saying that. You just wanted him to reassure you that he won’t need any other friend, that he’d prefer to do skincare alone than with someone that isn’t you.

“You’re trying to get rid of me?” he said playful, tickling your waist.

“No! Stop- no, never. I’m just thinking about it�� you pouted, feeling a bit sad.

“You are my best friend, Y/N. Manchester won’t change that. And absence makes the heart grow fonder” he smiled, holding your serum in front of you so you could use it on him.

“Uhm, we’re forgetting something, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea, what are you talking about?” Mason smirked.

You rolled your eyes at him, looking for your facial scrub and pouring some into your hand and despite his complaints, he let you finish.

The pair of you interspersed so he’d also cleaned, exfoliated and moisturised your face, and once you’ve both done he carried you to his living room.

“Oh you’ll make me stare at these bad girls?” you joked, pointing to his suitcases. Mason laughed, waiting for you to lay on the couch and instantly laying between your legs.

“Who knows, maybe they’ll make you come with me” Mason shrugged. He wouldn’t let you know, so you wouldn’t feel guilty, but knowing you weren't coming to his new home with him was eating him alive.

“Ugh, don’t do this. I’m almost changing my mind” you sighed. If he could ask for something, then it would be this. For you to change your mind.

Realising that you only have two days left with Mason made your stomach burn. Your best friend was always there for you, and alongside Ben you did everything together.

He is the one you call when you’re sad, and when you’re happy. Even when you’re angry or pissed off.

Mason and Ben are the ones you search for in every scenario, your boys. The only men you trust with your life.

And now you feel like you’re losing one of them. Because it’s exactly what’s happening.

“No no no, we’re not crying any more tonight” Mason looked up and caught the exact moment a tear fell from your eyes. Facing you and squeezing your tight, he gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re only allowed to cry in Tony’s scene”

You nodded, wiping your own tears and waiting for the movie to start. Mason got up when the bell rang, coming back a few minutes later with the food he ordered.

You two ate together, always touching each other with some part of your bodies. When the food ran out there was still an hour of movie left, and Mason clung to your body after cleaning the mess both of you made.

“You’re going to leave bruises on me, Mase” you pretended to complain about how tightly he was holding you, and he laughed, only tightening more.

“It’s a good idea to keep other boys away” he said.

“What are you talking about”

“Once I’m left there will be a lot of predators around you, I need to find a way to prevent it”

There it was. Your friendship with Mason was always comfortable, and sometimes the pair of you used to flirt and joke around.

But sometimes you keep yourself wanting those little flirts to mean something, and you weren’t sure about how to deal with that. Especially now that he’s about to move to another city.

Besides, Mason is a fucking footballer, and a pretty one. The kind of man who can have anyone in the world.

And you are his best friend, someone he probably sees as a sister. And you couldn’t say anything before understanding what you feel, because it would be so unfair to him.

Mason smiled, leaning to you and brushing his lips against your neck. He kissed the spot before starting sucking your skin.

“What are you doing?” you tensioned your body. Someone who sees you as a sister wouldn’t give you a hickey, right?

“Shhh, stay quiet” his wet lips brushed your neck, and you could feel his breath hitting you.

You ran out of actions, staying still until he was done.

“There it is” he faced it proudly. “Now I have about two weeks of good sleep before it fades and I need to do it again”

You didn’t know what to say, so you kept quiet. Best friends don’t mark each other like that, right? But you can’t think about it now. Mason is leaving London. And you are staying.

—

It was a sad, sad Sunday. You couldn’t believe your best friend was moving to another side of the country.

After spending the Saturday with him, eating snacks all day and cuddling in bed, you weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to cry”

“Sorry I can’t stop” you groaned, stressed. It was such a great weekend with him and now you were forced to watch him leave.

Ben showed up when Mason was closing the house, and he helped his best friend to fill the car with all his things before hugging you.

“I’ll take you to him as often as we can, Y/N” he smiled at you.

Ben was such a sweet soul. You pouted, resting your face on his shoulder while Mase locked the last door.

“Can you please take your hands off of my best friend?” Mason rolled his eyes, standing in front of you.

Ben laughed when his mate opened his arms and you went straight to him. He knows your relationship with him is more intimate, and to Ben it's obvious what’s going on.

Mason stroked your back, smiling when you tucked your face in his neck.

“I’m gonna miss your hugs”

“This sounds like a you problem to me” Chilly smirked, knowing he’s still receiving those.

“He’s a prick, isn’t he?” Mason whispered in your ear, making you laugh between sobs.

You raised your face, trying to stare at him through your tears, and he stroked your chin patiently.

“Don’t find another best friend” you sobbed loudly. “I’ll drive to Manchester whenever I can to watch your games so we can make skincare together and we can FaceTime when you miss me but please Mount, don’t find another girl”

He smiled, feeling warmth in his chest. He wishes he could tell you not to find another boy too, but Ben would be pissed at him.

“You’re my only girl, Y/N. Don’t need to worry about that” Mason thought it was cute the way your lower lip was quivering while you pouted. “C’mon baby, I hate to see you cry. You’ll be fine? I can stay till tomorrow”

“No, I’m ok. You don’t need to change your plans” you sighed. “I’m acting like a child”

“It’s cute” he smirked, stroking your chin. “Here, I have something for you” he pulled away so we could take out the hoodie he wore all weekend. “I bought to leave it with you but I thought it would be better if I use it for some days so it would have my scent”

“I love you” you pouted, wearing it instantly before hugging him again.

“I love you more” he smiled and you closed your eyes, tightening your grip on his t-shirt when he kissed the tip of your nose.

“No, I do” you smirked, giggling when he pinched your nose.

“That’s impossible” he kissed you again, on your forehead this time, holding you against him for a few minutes. “See you soon, uhm? I swear”

You nodded, letting him go to Chilly. They both said goodbye, hugging each other with watery eyes before Mason came back to you, kissing your head and entering his car.

Ben came to hug you, and the two of you watched while Mason left the front porch line.

“Take your hands off her” Mason screamed, making you giggle. “Love you two, take care of my girl Benjamin”

“She’s my girl too, you know”

“Only in your dreams” Mason chuckled. “She knows she’s mine”

And drove off the car. You felt your heart pounding at the sight of his car disappearing at the end of his old road.

“His girl, uh?” Ben teased you as soon as you couldn’t see Mason’s car anymore.

“Shut up, Benjamin” you rolled your eyes, and he chuckled at you. “I miss him already” you started to sob again.

“Oh, fuck off” he laughed, but hugged you tightly, trying to bring you some comfort.

Later that night, Mason checked on you through Ben before reaching you out so he could try to comfort you. You felt even sadder knowing that the only day he can take care of you know is through a screen.

—

You tried to stay happy while living in London, for Ben. You really tried. But the dark hole in your chest wouldn’t let you.

Ben was the best of friends, staying at your house every time he can, taking you to different places and trying to distract you. You both spent a lot of quality time together and he knows how much you love him, but he also knows the truth.

You missed Mason so much it hurts.

You wished you could’ve gone to his debut for United, but you weren’t able to drop your work on a Monday so you went to Ben’s house to watch it with him.

It was a great game and the Red Devils happily won. You cried at the end, when the camera showed Mason, and Ben mocked you for the rest of the night.

“He is glowing” you pouted.

“I would be too, if I had a serious team” Chilly gave a choked laugh, making you chuckle.

You waved him goodnight and went to his guest room, deciding not to drive back home late at night since you lost track of time talking with Ben. He kissed your forehead and murmured goodnight too, giving you your space.

As soon as you entered the room, you changed into a pyjama you forgot there the last time you spent the night, and got under the heavy blanket, reaching out for your phone so you could send a message to your boy.

You didn’t knew but, in Ben’s room, your boys were having a conversation.

Five minutes after your last message, Mason didn’t resist and FaceTimed you.

“Goodnight Mase” you smiled at your phone. He was tucked in his sheets, cheeks smashed against his pillow. He looked so adorable, you wanted to scream.

“Oh, I miss your voice so much” Mason grinned, his voice a little bit hoarse. “Goodnight babe. Hope you enjoyed the game. Ben told me you cried, I got a bit worried”

Your blood ran to your cheeks, and you made a mental note to kick Ben’s ass later. What a traitor!

“Nothing to worry about, they focused on you at the end and I just miss you alot” you admitted shyly, even though he knows how badly you miss him. Mason smiled at your rose cheeks, feeling his heart ache with love.

“I’ll try to visit soon” he yawned, making you smile. “Ugh, I don’t want to say goodbye yet. Can we spend the night on call?”

“Yes big boy, sure we can. Want me to tell you a story?” you smiled, laughing when his cheeks turned red.

“I do, actually”

“Hmmm, alright. The story begins with a boy, a tall one, and a tiny girl. They met one day, when the tall boy hit the girl with a ball straight in her head…”

It was the best night of sleep both of you had in two weeks.

—

“I want to go to this weekend’s game” you said to Ben, after explaining to him how your best friend has been acting lately.. “At Old Trafford”

Two weeks passed since you and Mason slept on a call together, and you were feeling like something was off. He’d still answer your texts and send you good morning or good night with cute emojis, but he was avoiding your phone calls and you didn’t spend the day texting.

You felt childish at first, rationalising that he has a new job and is probably really busy, but on the third day off that he found an excuse to not call you at night, you decided you had enough.

“Alright, we’re playing on different days this weekend so I can take you. Don’t want you driving alone, we never know what might happen”

“I’m a good driver”

“I know that, bug” he smiled. “But I mean, like… we don’t know what you’re facing there. I don’t want you driving back after some misunderstandment or something like that”

You nodded, suddenly afraid that your little trip might end with you and Mason fighting.

“Only a month away and he’s acting weird” you dropped your head on the sofa. “And to think I really believed we could survive the season… or worse, the five fucking years”

“Language, bug. Don’t need to overreact, you don’t know what happened yet. Just… prepare yourself for anything, alright?”

“What do you mean? You think, like… he could be dating someone?” you shrugged.

“I wouldn’t say dating, but maybe seeing someone? He hasn't said anything like that to me” Ben tried to tranquillise you. “But it was my first thought, since one of the first things a man does when he starts dating is to push their female friends away a little bit, you know… so their girl don’t feel insecure or something like this”

“Yeah, I got it Benji, And I feel happy that my friends are this kind of man, but it would be nice if he could tell me instead of ignoring me” you snorted, pretending that the idea of Mason dating someone didn’t bother you at all. “At the same time, I can’t be sure that this is the reason, and he could be struggling with something. I just need to confirm he is okay”

“Fine, bug. I’ll take you. But if something went wrong then we’ll be back in the same minute, alright?” he brushed your hair out of your face. “I know you. It’s not like you’d be happy with him dating someone, don’t have to pretend in front of me. I just hopes he gives you sincerity at least”

—

The game was crazy. Ben tried to hide himself in a big hoodie, a cap and glasses, so both of you enjoyed it together. It was a fantastic result for United, winning three down zero at home, and you could see Mason was really happy.

Chilwell bought you an ice cream and distracted you with different subjects, giving time for Mason to get changed and go home, once he knows how crazy the locker room can get after a win like that.

An hour later, he drove you to the hotel he knows Masons at and asked the receptionist to call his buddy and say his name.

“Call me if you need anything” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “And call me if you decide to spend the night, please”

You nodded, squeezing his hand before entering the elevator.

A half naked Mason opened the door, and you could tell he was really surprised.

“Y/N? What? What are you doing here?”

“Happy to see you too, Mase” you tried to smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m just- I didn’t expect to see you anytime soon, and she told me Ben was here so I thought it was him-”

You stared at him and the silence that came after was awkward. You turned your eyes to the floor and that’s when you saw the ring.

“Oh” you nodded, remembering Ben’s words. “Makes sense”

Mason followed your gaze, quickly taking the ring off. “It’s not what you think it is”

“Right. The same way your weird excuses for not calling me aren’t what I think they are and the fact that you didn’t even hugged me isn’t what I think it is” you grinned sarcastically

You turned around hating the way your voice crackled, and pressed the elevator button, ready to leave.

Mason ran to you, holding your arms to keep you in place. “Why haven’t you told me you were coming? You watched the game?”

“Yes”

“I’m sorry” he kissed your forehead, hugging your waist. “It was a hell of a week and I missed you so much that I thought- that maybe if we didn’t talk that much It could get easier. Sounds dumb when I say it out loud”

“Cause it’s dumb” you tried to be sharp, but Mason always gives you the best hugs in the world and you were instantly melting against him. The elevator door opened, but you both ignored it until it closed again.

“It’s Cartier” he said after a few seconds of silence, pushing you away to cup your face. “It’s just a ring”

You could see that he was trying to hide a smile and you felt so pathetic. Of course your best friend would’ve told you if he was dating someone.

“Sorry” you felt the blood rushing into your cheeks.

“What for?” Mason frowned, stroking your chin. In his opinion, you look so cute being jealous of him.

“For being a jealousy bitch” you sighed, confused. What the hell were you thinking? He’s tired after a rough game and you thought it was a great idea to show up and snap over a ring.

“You were jealous?” he raised an eyebrow at your nod. “You don’t have to. Everybody around me knows I’m yours”

Your body shivered, and Mason smiled at the sign of your red cheeks again. Kissing the tip of your nose, he held your hand and guided you inside his hotel room.

Mason couldn’t wait to cuddle with you, but you weren’t sure about spending the night with him after the scene you made.

“I should leave” you said when he closed the door. “You need to sleep”

“I’ll sleep better if you cuddle me” Mason pouted. “See what six weeks away made to us already? We were almost fighting. Now I need to spend the night with you just to be sure the tension is gone”

You rolled your eyes playfully, taking off your hoodie. Mason celebrated whispering “yes” just like a child, and promptly searched for a t-shirt to give you.

“I’ll go to the bathroom so you can get changed”

“You had dinner already?” you asked, worried that you just interrupted him.

“Hm no, but I can order some food if you’re hungry”

“I’m not, but you should eat something Mase”

“I just want to sleep, to be honest” he yawned, heading to the bathroom and giving you some privacy.

After sending Ben a message letting him know you were spending the night with Mason, you quickly changed into his t-shirt, sighing in relief for being free of your jeans and bra. Since you left your pyjamas at Ben’s hotel room, you searched for one of Mason’s shorts, but most of his things were still in his suitcases and you weren’t able to find it in the mess.

You decided to leave it that way instead of disturbing him any more and tucked yourself into his sheets before he came back, so he wouldn’t even notice.

“Alright, you can come out” you said loud enough for him to hear and he stuck his face out, making you laugh. “Hi baby boy”

“Oh finally, I was almost sleeping in the bathtub” he made his way to the bed and laid with you, looking for a comfy position.

Once you were laying on your back with his body on top of yours, Mason rested his face on your shoulder. Your hands went directly to his hair and you scratched his scalp gently, smiling at his tired groan.

“I’ll let you sleep without dinner ‘cause it was a tiring day at work, but you bet we’re having a reinforced breakfast tomorrow”

“Yes mommy, I got it” he hummed in your ear.

Mason didn’t missed the way your body shuddered and clinged against you. You held your breath when he slipped his hand under the t-shirt, squeezing your waist.

You felt like your heart would stop when he started to play with your panties strap.

“I didn’t gave you a sleep shorts, did I?” for a second you thought you were imagining the huskier tone of his voice.

“No you didn’t, but I can put it on now if you give me one”

You bit your lower lip when his finger went under the strap, stroking your skin, but you stayed quiet. It’s just your best friend, playing with the strap of your panties. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I can be dumb sometimes, but not that dumb, Y/N”

“Hm?” you thought you might have misheard him.

“Nothing” Mason chuckled. “Sweet dreams sweetheart” he whispered, kissing your collarbone.

“Good night, Mase”

You stayed awake for half an hour, hearing his cute snoring and thinking about the way you felt when you saw that ring.

When you closed your eyes, all you could think was that this couldn’t be happening. You knew better than falling for your best friend.

—

Sunday was lazy and cosy. Waking up with Mason’s arms wrapped around your waist always made you feel protected, and you missed this.

You called Ben and sent your location to him, so the three of you had breakfast in a super cute coffee, and Mason showed you both some places he liked in Manchester, taking pictures of you in his new town.

When it was time for you to go back to London, Mount turned into a big baby, pouting every time you looked at him.

Ben said he needed to go to the pharmacy before hitting the road, so he parked in front of Mason's hotel and left you both alone.

Mount helped you get in Chilly’s car and checked the seat belt, but wouldn’t get out of the car window for nothing.

“Let me know when you get home” he kissed your cheek, half of his body through the window, impeding you to close it.

“I can share my location with you if you want to” you chuckled at his concern.

“Yeah, do that. And tell Woody I said hi” he kissed your cheek again, making you laugh.

“Yes sir, anything else?”

“Hmmm, tell him I miss him” he smiled, kissing your cheek one more time.

“Jesus Mase, you’re so needy”

“I don’t want you to go” he cupped your face, whimpering. You closed your eyes, resting your face against his hand and smiling at his words.

“I’ll be back soon” you repeated what he said the other day, making him laugh.

“Liar”

You giggled, pouting at him. “Love you”

“I love you more” he kissed you again, dangerously close to your lips this time, which made you quickly open your eyes.

You stared at his eyes and found… something. They were shining, and when Mason licked his lips wet, you felt the urge to be a bit cockily brave before living.

“If you want to do it then do it properly” you rolled your eyes playfully. You never said anything like that to him, but the fact that he’s in another city now seemed to make you brave enough. You won’t need to face him if he dumps you.

But instead of laughing and saying goodbye, Mason leaned closer towards you.

“Can I?” his big brown eyes were focused on your lips, and you felt a lump in your throat.

“Well, if you want to” you tried to keep a playful tone but when he turned his eyes at you, Mason he had a serious look. “Do you?”

He stared at your lips, running his tongue between his own and pulling his face closer to yours. You weren’t sure if he was really going to kiss you or if he was just joking along with you about it, so you stayed standing in place.

When he was close enough for you to feel his breath in your lips Mason looked you in the eyes, asking for permission. You didn’t believe in yourself to speak, so nodding was your only option.

You felt butterflies in your tummy, anxiety and anticipation mixed with insecurity.

Your best friend leaned to you, and you smiled at his shaky breath. You’re not gonna lie, you imagined this happening a couple of times, but never thought that it was really possible.

“Are you nervous?” you tried to hide your smile. Realising he was just as afraid as you was something different.

“Aren’t you?” he brushed his lips against yours. “There’s any chance this could ruin what we have?”

“Only if you’re a bad kisser” you teased him and Mason chuckled, enjoying the moment.

Deciding to dive right in, he finally closed the distance between you both. His soft lips slipped against yours and you couldn’t help but sink into him.

It was a soft kiss. Slowly, as if Mason was savouring you. No one ever kissed you like this.

When both of you ran out of air, Mason pulled away. Smirking at you, he gave your lips a peck and ran to his car without saying anything.

You giggled at his shy reaction and stayed there for a few minutes, waiting for your best friend to come back, all smiley and thinking about what you just did.

Chilwell didn’t missed the way your smile was taking your entire face, or your shining eyes and every single sigh you left out during the ride.

When he left you home and kissed your forehead, he also looked you deep in the eyes.

“Be careful, bug” he stroked your chin, and you knew he knew that something was going on.

Maybe you were wrong. You don’t know better than falling for one of your best friends.

—

You came back to London way too fast, and were already missing your boy again.

You both were always texting each other, talking about your day and trying to manage how hard it was to be away from your best friend.

And despite you never talked about the kiss, things were different, in a good way.

He’d flirt with you like a teenager, making you giggle all the time, and even though the pet names were common in your friendship before, it’s the only way he calls you now.

You were so fucked up. Honestly.

Now it’s been two months since you saw him — and kissed him. You feel like the kiss strengthened your bond, but at the same time you felt so insecure about it.

Now that he’s so far away and you can’t be with him as much as you like, in your head it’s so easy for him to be interested with any other girl.

You tried to make these thoughts disappear, since you’re going out with your best friend.

Ben picked you up for dinner. He texted you earlier and told you to wear something nice, because he had a surprise for you, so you obeyed.

You chose a black dress to style it with your new high heels from YSL, and Chilly whistled from the driver's seat.

“We’re a bit late so I’m not opening the door for you, sorry bug” you rolled your eyes playfully, sitting in his passenger’s seat. “You look really really beautiful. Buddy’s having a heart attack for sure”

“Who?”

“You’ll see” he smirked, making you snort.

It was a quick ride, and you and Ben sang along to his favourite songs all the way.

When you both got to the restaurant, he took you to the receptionist to talk about his reservations and you saw a back you know really well.

“Is that-” you stuttered, and Ben looked at you in shock.

“Damn it Y/N, how could you tell from here?”

“Are you kidding? Is it really him?”

“Yes, bug. Surprise?” Chilwell smiled, shrugging.

You hugged him really, really tight. “Thank you, Benji. I love you”

“Right right, I know you do. Now go on, run to him like I know you want to” he teased you. “I’ll be there soon”

You nodded, doing your best not to fall while you ran to Mason. Your heart was in your throat and the sight of him was making you weak.

When you were close enough, you covered his eyes with your hands.

“Oh” he sighed, making you laugh. “I wonder who it could be. Probably my boy Chilly”

You took your hands away, looking him in the eyes. “Hi Mase”

“Uhm, way better than Chilly”

“Oh for fucks sake” Ben complained, rolling his eyes.

They chose one of those tables next to the wall, with sofas instead of chairs, so you could sit between them both. Great anti-jealousy choice.

You enjoyed the night with your boys, eating your favourite pasta and a glass of wine.

Ben laughed when you heard one of the waitresses saying that you had two gorgeous men when they only wanted one, and Mason kissed your cheek.

“What’s that ugly face about?”

“You think I’m ugly?” you asked with a pout, trying to hold your laugh when his eyes widened.

“I never said that”

“Oh, I think you’re in trouble Mase” Ben chuckled, falling silent with your gaze. “She heard the waitress talking about us” he murmured.

“What a jealousy baby” Mason kissed your chin, squeezing your tight under the table. “You know I’m your boy… and Chilly is your boy too” he completed with a giggle after Ben’s stare.

“If anyone could hear you now, they would think we are a throuple”

“Let them think” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine.

“See? She’s proud of her boys” Mason cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah yeah, now which of you will order my dessert” you asked, reading the menu.

“I was thinking about being your dessert, actually”

“Behave, Mason” Ben snorted, pinching his nose.

You laughed at them, covering your face with the menu, a nice way to also hide your burning cheeks since Mason squeezed your tight again, loving to see you laughing.

When you had your bitter chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream, Ben drove you back home. You were in the back seat while Mase sat in the passenger sit, so none of them would feel unchosen.

Chilwell parked in front of your front porch line, and you thanked him, tapping Mason’s shoulder.

“Want to spend the night with me?” You asked Mason and you didn’t need to ask twice as he quickly jumped out of Ben’s car.

“Yes mate don’t need to worry about me I’ll be fine on my own” Ben said dramatically, making you laugh. You went to the driver window, pecking his cheeks.

“Where’s my smile?” you asked him like he was a tiny kid, but it worked. Ben smiled at you, his eyes shutting. “Good night Benji”

“Good night, bug” he blew you a kiss before turning his head to Mason’s direction, who had already walked around the car and was now beside you. “Take care of her”

“I always do” Mount smirked cockily, resting an arm around your shoulders.

Ben waited for both of you to be inside of your house, leaving with a honk.

Mason entered your house in silence, knowing you have a roommate, and made his way to your room since you’re not eating or watching anything this late.

“Oh shit” Mason groaned when you closed your room’s door. “We just completely forgot that all of my stuff are at Ben’s”

“You can sleep in your boxers” you shrugged. “I don’t mind it. I’m sure there’s one of your shirts here but I don’t feel like looking for it”

Mason stared at the room floor for a minute, thinking about what you just said. You want him to sleep practically naked?

He shrugged to himself, taking off his clothes and staying only in his boxers. You were already in bed, using the hoodie he left with you months ago as a pyjama. It is big enough to cover your thighs, and you feel like you’re flowing inside it.

“It’s my hoodie?” he looked at you and you nodded.

“It’s the one you left for me in July, guess it’s mine now”

“Yeah, it is” he smiled, tucking his head into your neck. “Jesus you always smell so good”

You chuckled at his compliment, scratching his neck gently. It didn’t take long for his hand to reach your waist underneath the hoodie.

Just like the last time this happened, you held your breath when his fingers played with your panties strap.

He thought you were using pyjamas shorts. He really did, but there’s no way he’s taking his hand out now.

Mason tried not to imagine how'd it be to take it off from you. He tried really hard not to imagine how’d it be to make you moan his name.

You are his best friend and even though you always accepted his touches and cuddles and you both kissed last time you saw him, doesn’t mean he has any real chances.

But the way you were jealous of him that night… and you travelled all the way to Manchester… and that kiss was something else…

You left a shaky breath when he tightened his grip on you, and kept telling yourself that he’s tired, slightly drunk and his fingers just found the way to your waist naturally, that he’s not even totally awake. Well, at least you think he had a drink at the restaurant.

Mason was well awake, actually, and he did his best to keep the other part of him sleeping, but he couldn’t stop himself from picturing you only in his hoodie, your tights so accessible to him.

He sucked in a breath and you could feel the tension on his shoulders. You could also feel his boner when he tried to move his hips away, and your mind went blank.

He never had an erection when you guys slept together, in all these years. You didn’t know what to think or how to feel, and you were filled with a lot of conflicted emotions.

Mason was hard-on for you and this fed your pride. He thinks you’re pretty? Hot? He enjoyed that kiss the other day? He’s been thinking about it like you did?

Just in that moment you realised how bad you wanted him to want you.

When he left a small groan, you ran your hand through his hair.

“Everything is alright, Mase?” you asked gently.

“Uhm?”

“Is everything alright?”

“No, is not” he sighed. “I’m sorry”

You waited, feeling your expectations die, but still smiled at him.

“That’s alright babe, you’re a man attracted to women and I’m a woman and we are in the same bed and things like that can happen” you reassured him.

“Jesus, don’t call me babe in a moment like that” Mason groaned, making you laugh. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable”

“You didn’t. It can happen all the time, Mase. I was surprised it never happened before”

“This means that- Chilly… ?” he stuttered, raising his face to look at you.

“Oh, no” you laughed out loud. “You are the physical one, me and Chilly almost never cuddle”

“Good” he smiled, relieved.

“Good?”

“Yeah, good. I wouldn’t live much longer knowing he’s cuddling with you while I’m far away, that’s unfair”

There it was again, the reason for your doubts. In what should you believe, for fucking sake?

Is not normal for a best friend to be that territorial and jealous. At least you wished it’s not.

“You don’t need to be jealous of Ben. He’s just Ben” you kept scratching his scalp. “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

“Not really” he tucked his head into your neck and you could feel the warmth of his burning cheeks.

“You don’t need to be ashamed, Mase. I told you it’s normal and I do understand that you have no control over it”

“I shouldn’t want this to happen” he murmured, so sleepy that you could barely hear him.

“Hm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you Mase”

“I got hard cause I was thinking about it” he whispered against your neck. “I shouldn’t want this to happen, right?”

“You shouldn’t want this because it’s me?” you asked softly, trying to understand what he wanted, how he felt about you.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. Probably my favourite person in the world. I don’t want to fuck up our friendship” he squeezed your waist, inhaling your scent. “But God, I want to fuck you so bad”

You felt goosebumps all over your body and you were sure your panties would probably be ruined by now. This man will be the death of you.

But you think he drank tonight, you remembered yourself, just trying to keep your feet on the ground.

“You’re probably just drunk and horny, Mase. You’d feel like this with any girl laying in your bed”

“I didn’t even drink tonight, Y/N” he snorted, feeling rejected. “But nice way to dump me”

“Believe me, I’m not dumping you. I just thought you had a drink” you emphasised.

“Uhm, keep going” he ran his nose through your neck, lazy.

“You’re my favourite person too and I don’t want to screw things up” you admitted, and the way he pulled back to look at you with hopeful eyes made your entire body shiver.

“But you also feel it?”

“Yes baby, I do” you decided to be honest, even though you couldn’t know how honest he was being. “Now go to sleep, ok?”

“I don’t want to sleep” Mason kissed your neck.

You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your own body betray you. Mason didn’t missed the way your tights parted under him, which made him smile.

“Mase, you were supposed to be recovering. You really need to sleep now babe”

“Call me babe one more time and I’ll cum in my boxer” he breathed and you closed your eyes, fighting the urge to help him. “Y/N…” Mason whispered.

“We can’t, Mase” you whimpered, feeling insecure. You would have him and then what? He would go back to Manchester where he could find a lot of more attractive girls and you would stay in London.

“Why not” he pouted, nothing like the grown man asking you to have sex with him.

“I can’t risk the chance of you waking up and regretting this”

“I won’t”

“So there’s no rush if you’ll still want this other day” you tried to postpone this conversation, but he was desperate to take his chance, to create an ever stronger bond with you.

Mason doesn't know when you will see him again, so he can’t let this slip through his fingers.

“You want this?” he murmured, looking for your gaze, and you tried to ignore his eyes.

“Jesus Mase, why won’t you just sleep?” you sighed. This man is a tough one to deal with, and as soon he realised you did want him, you lost the war.

“Answer me” Mason kissed your chin, getting in between your legs. “Say you don’t and I’ll stop”

When he pressed his cock against your core, you losted it.

“Fuck, yes. I do. I want you so bad that I’m soaking” you spat the words. Lying to him now would be pointless.

Mason didn’t respond, giving your neck wet kisses instead, and you could feel his smile against your skin. He was desperate for you, and you could tell by his grip in your waist.

“If you want me then you got me” Mason whispered, moving his hand and caressing your core through your panties. “Be a good girl, uh?”

You nodded, feeling nervous. Your best friend was about to touch you like friends don’t usually do and you have no idea how to deal with that.

“Fuck, you’re really soaking” Mason groaned when his fingers touched you under the fabric, feeling how wet you were.

He slid them through your folds, trying to be quiet.

“No one can hear you” you whispered softly when you realised his effort to stay shut. “My roommate went for her boyfriends house”

“Good” he smiled, reaching your lips to a soft kiss. “I can make you scream then”

Your mouth went dry. You know Mason’s sassy and cocky side, and you love it, but you never thought you’d experienced it that way.

He rubbed your clit, gently massaging it, kissing your chin when you started to ask for more.

You couldn’t even think straight when Mason started thrusting two of his fingers in and out of you, always so gentle. You didn’t know if you wanted him to fuck you harder or to savour you like he was doing, so you just called his name, losing your mind.

“You’re feeling good?” he asked you, curling his fingers inside of you. The sight of your eyes shut and your parted lips made him want to scream. You nodded at him, scratching his neck. “And who’s making you feel good, princess?”

Mason smiled as he watched you roll your head back against the pillow. “You are, Mase”

He bit his lower lip in concentration, focused on getting you ready for him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick twitching in his boxers at every soft moan of yours, he removed his fingers, smirking when you cried at the emptiness feeling.

Licking his fingers clean while looking you straight in the eyes, which made you even wetter, Mason pulled away just enough so he could take off his underwear, releasing his dick with a sigh.

Back between your legs, Mason moved your panties to the side, almost tearing them. He lined himself up with your entrance and leaned over you, teasing your hole and stimulating your clit with his tip.

He groaned when you scratched his torso, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t tease baby, or there will be consequences” you hooked your fingers under his chin.

“Sorry” he smiled shyly, thrusting his hips forward to push himself inside. This somehow fed your pride with the thought of your boy submissive to you, but you had no time to think about it as Mason obeyed you, penetrating you slowly.

“Jesus Mase, you’re so big” you whimpered, feeling like you were almost tearing apart, your compliment feeding his ego.

When he was completely inside of you, Mason waited so you could get used to his size.

He started to move when you kissed his neck, trying his best to go slowly, but your soft whines in each thrust was making him crazy.

And he was good. So good. The pressure was perfect and the way he went to the bottom every single time made you wanna scream.

You had no words, only murmuring nonsense stuff and moaning his name. When his thrusts became faster and even more pleasurable, you lost your mind.

“Mase-” you choked out his name as you could feel his cock stretching you out, your walls clenching around him. “Just like that, babe-”

“Fuck, don’t call me like that” he whimpered. “I mean- please call me like that but not when I’m trying to last longer” Mason took a deep breath, trying not to cum with the feeling of you pulsating around him.

“But I don’t want you to last” you whispered, looking nothing like the girl from a few minutes ago who was scared of fucking with his best friend. “I want you to cum inside of me right now”

“Jesus, you’ll kill me” Mason groaned and you could feel him twitching inside of you, but he shook his head, thrusting his hips against you with renewed energy. “You first, princess”

You called out his name when the tip of his dick touched you in the right place, and Mason whined when you clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. So hot damn tight” he cried out, suffering to hold his own orgasm.

He quickly took the tip of his thumb to rub your swollen clit, and you watched how his cock was disappearing in your pussy before you dropped your head back on the pillow, enjoying how good Mason is at it.

It was hot and messy and his thrusts were getting sloppier every second. You could feel your heart, tummy and cunt burning all at once and you knew you were close.

“I'm so close Mase” you whined, moaning loudly when he pinched your clit. “Fuck I’m gonna-“

“Let go for me, Y/N. You take me so good baby. It feels so good to be inside you” he whispered dirty words in your ear, coaxing you.

Your orgasm hits you with full strength.

Mason placed his forehead against your, stroking your waist and guiding you through it, his cock pulsating as he released his own orgasm inside you.

You both stayed silent for a moment, tired. After a few minutes, he kissed your lips and got up, looking for wet wipes in your bathroom.

Coming back with them, Mason cleaned you up gently, knowing you’d be too sensitive.

After tossing the wipes in the bin, he laid beside you, his arm in your waist and one of his legs over your body.

“You’re good?” he murmured in your ear, kissing your temple.

“Mm-hmm” you hummed. “It was good for you?”

“If it was good? Fuck, you drained me” he whispered, strengthless. “Yes baby, I loved to fuck you in my hoodie. Felt special”

“You’re so territorial” you chuckles, stroking his chin.

“Shouldn’t I? People are territorial over what belongs to them. So I’m territorial over you” he mumbled, and you knew he was falling asleep. “Cause you’re mine. Mine, mine and only mine. You and your cuddles and your stories and now your pussy is also mine”

You burst into laughs, his face moving with your chest.

“Good night baby boy” you kissed his forehead, smiling at his rose nose and cheeks.

“Sweet dreams, my princess” he leaned against you, trying to be as close to you as was humanly possible.

Before you fell asleep, your last thought was that It would break your heart to see him leave the next morning.

—

You and Chilly were out for lunch. After a rough week, he just needed to chat a little and you were always happy to hear him.

A venting session later, Ben squeezed your tight.

“And what about you? How you feeling, bug?” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Not quite sure, Benji. I miss him” you sighed. “But if I go, then I’ll miss you. And everything I have here”

“It must be hard feeling that way” he stroked your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Yep… and uhm, I need to tell you something” you pinched your nose.

Ben didn’t even hesitated. “You had sex with him”

“Benjamin?!” you gasped.

“What?”

“He told you?” you were surprised that Ben knew it. Since that happened, Mason agreed not to tell your friend.

“So you HAD sex with him?” he laughed out loud. “Oh my- I knew it”

“So I just confirmed to you… great”

“Really? No one was going to tell me?“

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure about it. Like, I was always sure about him, but not about what we were”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely something. He’s so in love with you, makes me sick of my stomach”

“He’s what?” you paralysed. “He told you that?”

“No but it’s obvious?!”

“Oh Chilly, c'mon. You scared me for a sec”

“Why? You wouldn’t want this to be true?” he took a sip of his soda, understanding your silence. “Oh shit, is the opposite”

You shrugged, not really wanting to confirm it.

“Whatever”

“I mean it, Y/N. I know he feels it”

“You can’t be sure if he never told you this”

“But he’s my best friend, I know him. And I know both of you. He’s been on you since his first Senior England game”

“Fine, even if this is the truth there’s nothing I can do if he never tells me”

“Maybe you should tell him how you feel”

“We were both very clear about how we don’t want to ruin our friendship”

“And then he fucked you. Nice way to not ruin a friendship”

“We’re good Benji, no friendships ruined”

“I’ve seen this film before, Y/N. You two should talk”

“Fine, I’ll try. I just didn’t felt comfortable bringing the subject in a week like this, you know that beating City at Old Trafford was a really big goal for him”

“You have a point, it was a stressful week for him” Ben nodded, finishing his food and trying to decide which dessert he would pick today.

When you finish yours too you reach out for your phone since you’re used to forget it exists every time you’re with Ben or Mason.

You held your breath when you entered Twitter and saw Mason’s name trending.

According to the videos, Mason was at a club last night and even though he’s a grown man and can do whatever he wants, you felt your stomach churn.

He was beautiful as ever, looking a bit tipsy and his hair was a mess in one of the photos.

A specific one made your heart ache.

Mason was holding a girl on his lap. His face was resting on her shoulder, practically laying on her boobs.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, and Ben looked at you concerned.

“What happened, bug? You’re feeling alright? Something’s hurting?” he sounded alarmed, and you felt a bit of comfort in his concern.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, feeling your chest hurt, so you nodded at his question.

“What is it? You can’t breathe?” Ben stroked your back, worried. When you put your phone on the table and covered your face with your hands, he had a look at the screen. “Fuck, I’ll kill him”

You shook your head, ugly crying in your hands. Ben kissed your temple, never stopping the comforting stroke in your back and whispering that everything would be okay.

When your sobs became too loud he asked for the bill, paying before picking you up and taking you to his car. You didn’t say a word, accepting being taken care of.

At his house, he sent you to a hot shower. You hugged him tightly before locking his bathroom door and getting under the water.

It was a relieving shower. You cried a lot, and when you felt that there weren't any more tears you let your shoulders relax.

Leaving the bathroom, you found out that Ben had left one of his oversized t-shirts and a new boxer in his bed.

Wearing it and wrapping the towel around your hair, you left his room to find him in the kitchen.

“Hey bug, you’re feeling better?”

“Thank you Benji” you pouted, and he left the stove to get to you.

“You don’t need to thank me. You know I’d do anything for you, Y/N, you’re my little sister” he hugged you, and you tucked your face in his neck. “I love you, and I’m sorry he hurt you. He’ll have to deal with me about this one”

“I love you Chilly, but you don’t need to fight with your best mate because of it” you sighed, letting him go back to the boiling water. “We’re not dating, we just had sex. Maybe I went too far, it’s not his fault”

Ben shook his head, but concentrated on making you both a cup of tea.

Your best friend took care of you, and you both spent the rest of the day cuddling and watching movies.

Ben wasn’t the best with physical touch, but he knew you needed it so he tried his best, and this made your heart pound with gratitude.

You ignored Mason the whole day. You know he’s an adult and can do whatever he wants to, and a few weeks ago those videos wouldn’t bother you as you want him to be happy, and he seems happy, but after the last time you saw him you thought… that maybe he could be happy with you.

When the third movie ended, you yawned and turned to face Ben.

“It’s really late Benji, I should go home”

“You can spend the night here, I have training tomorrow but that’s not a problem”

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck off bug, you’re my best friend. Of course I’m sure” he ruffled your hair. “Do you want to sleep with me or do you need time alone?”

“As long as you don’t kick me out of bed in the middle of the night…”

“Hey, I already apologised for that night” Ben gave you the middle finger, turning off the tv, and you followed him upstairs.

“I need to tell you something” Ben sighed, rubbing his face. “I think I might know what happened, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m defending him — I’m not”

“Uhm, ok?” you looked at him, suspicious.

“Friday, after our game… I went to the club with some of the boys, we had a lot of drinks” he started, feeling ashamed. “And we played truth or dare. I’m sorry, bug. One of the guys thought it was a good idea to dare Enzo to send Mason a message about you”

“What kind of message?”

“That you spent a night with him or something like that. They all know how close both of you are and they were sure this would make Mason lost his shit cause apparently he’s the only one that still doesn’t know how fucking in love he is” Ben said it all in just one breath. “But this is not an excuse, he should’ve asked you instead of believing Enzo. I just think that he felt threatened, insecure that you saw another man even after what you guys had”

“Jeez Ben, this is fucked up uh? It’s not a cool thing to do. But yeah, he should’ve asked me before fucking other girl”

“You’re angry or jealous?”

“I’m angry. And jealous. He slept with her thinking I slept with another man and now even though he’ll find out I didn’t, he did” you pouted. “He’s dirty with another woman’s pussy Ben I don’t want him anymore”

Your sincerity made Chilwell burst into laughter. “Oh bug, I’m sorry. You’re just too funny”

“I mean it though, she’s all over his skin”

“I’m sorry you’re passing through this, bug. He can be so dumb sometimes” You shrugged, and Ben’s phone started to ring. “Speaking of the devil”

“The Red Devil” you joked, turning to the other side so he could text his best friend. Ben stayed silent for a few minutes, but you could feel he was angry by the way he was typing.

You sighed when he locked his phone, imagining what they talked about, but forced yourself to forget these thoughts when Ben tucked his head in your neck.

“Good night, bug”

“Good night, Benji”

—

Monday morning, Ben’s doorbell rang like crazy, waking you up. You looked at your phone to check the hour, discovering it was only half past eight.

A lot of messages from Mason caught your attention, and you read them quickly, feeling your stomach twisting.

The doorbell rang again, and you snorted. Chilwell left early for training, so whoever might be wouldn’t find him home, but you thought it would be nice of you to let them know this instead of just letting them wait forever.

You ran down the stairs in his t-shirt, rubbing your sleepy eyes and still yawning. It wasn’t the best night of sleep you ever had, to be honest.

The last thing you were expecting was to see Mason standing in front of the door, ready to start knocking.

You tried to close the door in his face, but he was quick to stop your action, using his foot to keep it open.

“We need to talk” his voice was grumpy, and he looked so cosy in his hoodie. You tried your best to not jump on him, still feeling sad about yesterday.

“I don’t really wanna talk with you”

“But we need to. You’re using Ben’s t-shirt?” he frowned, forcing his weight against the door until you gave up.

“I didn’t think I was staying so I didn’t bring anything” you shrugged, and he forced himself to swallow the jealousy lump in his throat.

“Y/N…” Mason tried to hold you, but you took a step back.

“Don’t. I’m still pissed” you snorted, closing Ben’s door and walking to the living room. “How do you even knew I was here? I’ll beat Ben’s ass”

“I went to your place and you weren't there, so it was a logical thought. He didn’t needed to tell me anything. He refuses to talk to me at all”

Your heart melted a little bit, but even though what happened seems a small thing now, you cried a lot since you saw that video, and despite Ben’s explanation before bed you weren’t letting Mason get away with this one so easily.

You sat on the sofa, and he tried to sit next to you. You shuffled to the side, putting a little distance between you, but Mason followed your movement.

When you reached the arm of the sofa and ran out of space, he smiled at you. The pair of you stayed silent until Mason reached out for your hand.

“I’m sorry sweetheart” Mason said softly and it was enough to make you cry again.

“It’s not like we’re something, right? I’m just being dramatic” you shrugged one more time.

You weren’t his girlfriend, you both never talked about your feelings, he had a night out and now you’re acting like this is the end of the world. Maybe you should see a therapist.

“No, we’re not” he sighed, your words hurting him a little bit. “But I’ve always wanted us to be”

You gave Mason a side eye, trying not to cry any more. You wished you could still be mad at him, but if you’re being honest with yourself, just the fact that he was in London on a Monday so he could explain himself to you already made your anger disappear.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Mase. We can still be best friends like nothing happened” you tried to smile like the idea wasn’t tearing you apart.

“I don’t want to be your best friend” Mason snapped, but he quickly recomposed himself. “Fuck, I don’t. Ben is your best friend, ok? He’s your big brother, whatever. I’m your boy, Y/N” he said desperately, giving your thigh a squeeze. His words sounded like they could kill you. “Look at me baby”

When you did, Mason stared into your eyes. You instantly felt the need to cry, and weren’t able to hold the tears when he started stroking your chin.

Unable to wait any longer, he brought you to his lap, his hands going straight under Ben's t-shirt, to your waist.

“It’s not your fault, or mine. We should’ve talked about how we felt” you placed your hands on his neck. “Can’t blame you for sleeping with other girl”

“I haven’t. You’re the only one I had sex with the last four months” he chewed his lower lip. “I went to the club so Rashy could record me because I knew you’d see it and then you’d feel what I felt when Enzo texted me”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me” you shook your head, but you felt good knowing that he hasn’t slept with anyone else since he had you. He’s still your untouched boy.

“I do need to. It was childish, dumb and I hurt you without even knowing the real story. The thought of you with him made me blind. I just kept thinking about you touching him like you touched me” he said shyly, avoiding your gaze. “Kissing him like we kissed. Riding him like you did to me”

You took his hair out of his face and stroked his chin. Shy Mason has ever been your favourite version of him, because you’re the only one to see him like this.

“But that wasn’t the worst part” he pouted unconsciously. “I just realised that once you both enjoyed it, he could take you on dates. And ask you to be his girlfriend. See you every week like I used to and even ask you to live with him. He could do everything I wanted to”

His lower lip quivered and the fragility made you smile.

“I haven’t even met Enzo in person, baby boy. You could just talked to me and I’d told you this”

“Chilly told me it was a truth or dare game and they chose me as the target cause it was always obvious how much I like you” he left out a shaky breath. “But I had already messed up when I found out the truth. I was so dumb, and now you’re mad at me”

“Of course I’m mad at you. Another girl was messing around with what is mine” you felt a boost of confidence knowing he wants you both to be more than best friends.

“I’m sorry babe” he pouted, and your entire body shivered.

“Being sorry isn’t enough” you ran your thumb through his lower lip, quivering when he kissed your finger.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Mason smiled at the feeling of your thighs squeezing around him.

“Maybe if you were so afraid that Enzo could make a move, you should do it before we have the chance to accidentally met” you teased, watching your boy’s eyes go darker.

“Can we not say his name anymore?” Mason rolled his eyes, still stroking your skin.

“Does it stress you out?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “And you haven’t thought for a second that if you didn’t like the way you felt about him then I wouldn’t like the way I’m feeling about that girl right now?”

“I’m sorry” Mason whimpered, tightening his grip on your waist.

“Not enough. Not after making me think someone was touching my man. After making me think you were intimate with her or were looking at her the way you look at me”

“Your man?” Mason smirked, stopping when he saw your serious face. “I’ll never look at anyone the way I look at you. And your name is the only one I like to call”

“It won’t be that easy for you, Mr. Good With Words” you poked his chest, trying not to smile when he held your hand and kissed it.

“Fine, not words then. Let’s have dinner next week, I’ll come after my game” he smiled, pecking your neck.

You tried to hide your own smile again, but Mason tickled your waist and you failed.

“Alright” you giggled. “But I can go to Manchester. You’ll be tired”

“I don’t think so, I’m the one who needs to prove you something” he kissed your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying his touch before pulling out of his lap.

His confused eyes made you laugh, even harder when he pouted like a child.

“You didn't think it would be that easy, right? No kisses before my dinner” you shrugged.

“Y/N” he whimpered. “It’s like we're starting from scratch?”

“Yes”

Mason sighed, getting up and walking towards you. “Give me a last one, then”

You got closer to him, slowly. Mason licked his lips wet in anticipation, his hands ready to hold you, when you gave his cheek a peck and ran upstairs.

“Don't forget to close Chilly’s door” you screamed, making him laugh.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he shook his head, just happy that he got another chance.

Once in Ben’s room’s safety, you texted your best friend since he loves to be updated about your life like is a reality show.

—

Mason’s game Saturday afternoon was fantastic, and he even gave Rashy an assist. This would mean Ben was the moody of the moodiest, but he told you he’d be fine, not wanting to mess up with your weekend. You wrote a mental note to spend an entire afternoon with him.

When Mount left the locker room and the boys invited him, he shook his head, smiling.

“What’s about that smile?” Sancho raised an eyebrow.

“It seems like someone visited heaven” Martinez smirked, crossing his arms whilst everyone waited for Mason’s response.

Luke laughed, wearing his hoodie and walking towards Mount. “I know that look” he tapped Mason’s shoulder. “It’s Y/N, right?”

“Oh, so the video worked?” Marcus clapped his hands.

“Not exactly, but we’re good now. I’m taking her to dinner”

“That’s my big boy” Sancho jumped on his shoulders.

“He’s actually her big boy, bro” Onana giggled, messing up Mason's hair. “Happy for you, Mount. You found yourself in United, finally have your house and now you have your girl too”

“The start of the season in a new team can be really tough, but you’re going through it Mase. You’ll see, from now on it’ll only get better” Rashford completed, hugging Mason’s head. “We’re happy for you, brother”

He is happy for himself too. No self pity anymore. He’s going to show the world why he deserves his trophies, his fame and his girl.

With that in mind, he knocked at your door hours later, his shaky legs annoying him and your favourite flowers on his hand.

Ben told him your hotel and even gave his name to the receptionist. He felt like he’ll always be in debt with his friend.

Mason ran out of breath with the sight of you. Your red dress was pressing your body in all the right places, ending four fingers above your knees, and your smile was so bright. Your make up was her favourite make up style, a natural one, and your red lipstick matched the colour of your dress. Your white high heels

“Hi baby” he smiled at you, giving you the flowers. “To you”

“Mase! You didn’t need to” you pouted, running inside so you could put them in a vase. He was still smiling when you came back.

“You’re beautiful”

“You’re beautiful too baby boy” you had a look at him. Mason was wearing a white shirt, black pants and his favourite white Nike sneakers. He smiled proudly when you licked your lips wet looking at him.

When he took you to his car, you were a bit confused.

“What happened to your Rover?”

“Washing day” he shrugged, opening his Porsche’s door for you. “Do you like this one?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Everything about tonight seemed so dazzling.

When he sat behind the wheel, you felt your legs shake a bit and you couldn't contain your gasp. “Jesus, this is hot”

“Uhm?” Mason looked at you, grinning as he started the car. “You said something, babe?”

You chewed your lower lip, knowing damn well he heard you. Mount laughed at your silence, driving to the restaurant he picked.

It wasn’t a long drive, but you spent the entire time staring at his hands. How they pressed the wheel, how he smiled every time he hit the accelerator. How he smirked when his eyes met yours.

So cocky and feeling himself.

And you like to see him like this.

When he parked in front of your favourite restaurant, you pouted at him. Of course it was the Manchester franchise, but his concern with choosing somewhere you would like in his town made you happy.

“Don’t” he closed his eyes, smirking. “I don’t want to ruin your lipstick yet”

You rolled your eyes, and couldn’t help yourself but feel giddy. “Who said you’re ruining my lipstick tonight?”

“I said” he opened his door, running to get to yours before you could open it by yourself. You always felt good around Mason, but being his best friend and being his girl were two different things.

And nothing in this world ever felt as good as being his girl.

You never thought you’d have a dinner date with Mason, but you had. And it was unreal. Everything about the restaurant was so cosy, and the way he looked at you the whole night…

“You’re sure there’s no problem if someone sees us here?”

“You need to relax, love. It’s just me, uh? Not Mason Mount, just your Mason”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble”

“I won’t. Now, white wine and cheesy pasta?” he smiled, and you nodded fervently. You both talked about how’s been settling down in Manchester, his first Manchester Derby and your visits to Stamford, avoiding talking about Enzo and Mason’s partying night.

He also asked about your work, your family, Ben and Nathan. You asked about his new teammates and if they’re already friends, Mason smiled at every answer and question, and you were so happy your belly hurts from laughing.

When you were finished with your food, Mase ordered a chocolate dessert, knowing how much you love sweets after a meal.

“Close your eyes for me, princess. I want you to guess what I ordered” he smiled, and you obeyed immediately.

“It has strawberries?”

“Hm, no”

“Mango? Grapes?”

“Wow, you’re a fruity woman. But no” you could hear his giggles.

“It’s dark chocolate?”

“Yes baby, your favourite”

“Oh, oh!! Petit gateau with the 60% cocoa ganache and cocoa powder sprinkled” you opened your eyes, looking at him instead of the table. “Did I get it?”

Mase had the most beautiful smile, his eyes shut. When he didn’t answer you, you looked at the table just to find the dessert you described – and a ring.

“What- what is this?”

“I promise” Mason started, and you felt your eyes watering. “That I’ll love you just as much as you love bitter chocolate. I do already” he giggled, and you felt like your heart was about to stop.

“Baby…”

“I think you should be my girl, Y/N”

“I’m your girl” you murmured, feeling your heart pounding with love.

“Alright, I think you should be my girlfriend then. The last week just proved that we want each other and not being sincere about our feelings will only leave space for us to get hurt. I don’t want us to get hurt”

You walked towards him sitting in his lap not really caring if other people would comment about it.

“Me neither, sweet boy. But we live in different cities-”

“We’ll manage this. We can make it work. It’s what we’ve been doing since I left, babe. But now I’ll be even more anxious to see you cause I know I’ll be able to kiss you” he chuckled, kissing your chin before brushing his lips in your ear. “And touch you in a way is reserved to me”

“Put it on my ring” you whispered to him, trying to focus. He bit his lower lip in concentration, taking the tiny box and admiring his choice, a shining silver with a red jewel.

“I was going to buy a blue one, but…”

“Red is your colour now. It fits you, and it fits me. That’s all” you reassured him, stroking his chin with one hand while he held the other, sliding the ring through your ring finger.

You cupped his face when he finished, kissing his cheeks, nose and lips. It felt pretty good to see your lipstick marks all over him.

“Want your dessert now?” he smiled sheepishly and you nodded, choosing to stay in his lap while you ate your petit gateau.

It was really yummy and you felt happiness spreading over you, realising how much he knows you for asking something you would like that much.

“You shouldn’t press yourself against my cock like that, you know?” Mason suddenly murmured, scaring you. “It would be really embarrassing for me to cum that fast”

You choked a bit, pushing the plate away. “I’m done”

“Already?” he giggled when you nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes.

He asked for the bill and paid for it before getting up with you and guiding you by your waist. When both of you got to his car, he opened your door and kissed your cheek, making you all giddy.

While he walked around the car and entered, you texted Ben.

Already locking his seatbelt Mase smirked at your giggles, imagining who you were speaking with.

Mason didn’t even ask where you wanted to go, driving his home with just one hand while the other squeezed your thigh.

It was intimate and his hand was warm and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking how hot he looked while driving that way.

When he parked in his garage, you instantly felt nervous. It was your first time at his new house, and he could sense your tension.

“It’s just like when you used to come to my house in London” he hugged you from behind. “But we’re not in London anymore”

“And we’re not best friends anymore” you completed.

“No. We’re even better now” he kissed your neck, taking your hand and guiding you inside.

It was a big house, but comfortable at the same time. Mason was still decorating, but already seemed like his place.

It was late already, so he took you straight upstairs.

“Here’s my room, and my bathroom is right there. You can take off your makeup, I brought your makeup remover and a lot of cotton pads”

“I’ll need a t-shirt” you pouted, realising how much you two look like big babies pouting all the time. “And a boxer, it’s more comfortable”

“Yas ma’am. But first” he held your waist, pushing you against him. His other hand went to your neck, his fingers getting into your hair.

Mason leaned towards you, brushing your nose with his and pecking your lips before giving you a real kiss. His tongue sliding into your mouth the second you gave him permission.

He groaned when your nails scratched his scalp and you whined in his mouth, trying to get closer to him. Mason’s hands slid through your body, and he squeezed your bum, making your grip on him tighter.

“I told you” he said once you both broke apart looking for air, running his finger through your lower lip. “Deliciously ruined”

You pecked his lips one more time, feeling your legs a bit shaky.

“I love you”

“I love you so much more” he kissed your neck. “Now go get ready for bed, please. I don’t have strength enough to do what I want to do with you right now”

You chuckled, also feeling too tired for anything. It was a perfect night and you just wanted to finish it laying with your boyfriend, cuddling all night.

After taking off your makeup, you came back to Mase’s room and found him with the most beautiful sleepy face, holding his clothes for you. You quickly changed, letting him look at your body for a few seconds before wearing his t-shirt and boxer.

“Shit, you look so hot. And so cosy. I don’t know if I want to fuck you or cuddle you”

“Well the only thing you’re able to do right now is cuddling” you giggled, and Mason hit your ass.

He tucked you in bed, and you sighed in content. It was always so good to cuddle with him, feeling his body touching yours.

You knew both of you were horny and desperate for each other, but at the same time you were drained with the day’s surprises, and your boy had just won a game earlier. More than that, you were just happy. That you were in his arms, that he is totally yours now, that he loves you.

Happy that you’re able to sleep with his body that close to yours.

—

It’s been two months since Mason asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes. You both were able to manage the distance, but you were broken to be that far away from him.

When you asked Chilly to meet you that Thursday night, you really thought it wouldn’t be that hard. That you would have time to talk to him before telling the news.

But just like Mason, your best friend knows you, and his soft eyes shined with unshed tears before you even opened your mouth.

You hugged him, instantly tucking your face on his neck.

“I’m moving” you tried to tell him yourself, even though he already saw this on your face. “I’ll go to Manchester, Chilly”

He kissed the top of your head, hugging you tightly. “I’ll miss you, a lot, but I’m happy you made the decision. He was making me crazy with all the texts about missing you”

“I wish I could stay- really” you tried to explain, tightening your grip on hip, but Chilly shook his head.

“I’m missing my best friend, yes. But you?” Ben shrugged. “You’re missing the entire other half of you. I understand why you need to go. I’m happy you’re going, actually. Happy for you, and for my boy that’ll now feel complete”

“I’ll miss you so much, Benji” you pulled back to look at him with big sad eyes.

“But you’ll be happier there. And this is enough for me. Just promise me we’ll text everyday and you’ll visit me on my important games”

You nodded, squeezing his waist. “I’ll visit all the time. And you can always visit too, you know” you stared at him. “I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts”

“We love you more, you know” Ben chuckled, kissing your forehead.

You were happy with your best friend's support, and after a nice lunch with him you texted your boy.

You laughed at him, so silly.

When you had all your most important things in your car hours later, you FaceTimed Mason.

“Hi my sweetie cutie pie” he answered immediately.

“Hi big boy” you smiled at him, locking your old small and pretty house, that was already on sale.

“Big, uh?” a different voice came from his phone, and you felt the blood rushing into your cheeks when Rashford appeared through your screen. “Hi cutie pie” he mocked Mason.

“Hi Rashy. Boys night out?”

“Not actually, is just me, Mase and Sanch”

“You’re coming?” Mason appeared again, and Marcus snorted.

“I’m leaving now, but it’s a long drive, you can stay with them” you assured him, entering your car.

“Wish I could pick you up” he pouted. “Be careful love”

“Join us when you arrive, baby girl” Marcus mocked again, and Mason fulmed him with his eyes.

“Don’t call her like that” your jealous boy complained.

“Ohhhh” you could hear Sancho’s voice. “He’s right Rashy, you can’t call your buddy’s girl like that even if it’s ironic”

“Sorry, sorry. Just tell her to join us”

“You want to come, babe?” he looked at you with his big brown eyes and you nodded.

“This phrase went weird bro” Sancho murmured, causing Marcus to break into laughter.

“Jesus, I can’t with you two” he snorted, causing you to smile. “I’ll send my location and you decide if you want to show or if you’re too tired, just let me know if you choose go straight home so I can come to you”

“Yes sir” you nodded again, starting the car. “See you soon” you whispered, receiving an affected smile.

“God, I can’t wait” he murmured with shining eyes, instantly being teased by his friends. “I love you baby”

“Love you more” you blow him a kiss before turning the call off, adjusting your seat belt and driving off of the porch line. Driving home. To your man and your new life.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluffy #mason mount smut #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fics

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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waratah-vroom · 10 months

Text

Silly Season (ln4)

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 700,284 others yourusername: Oh Canada, you have my heart

lilymhe: Of course you'd post food over race content 😂

“And here we have former F2 champion and the first Williams' driver to win a race since Pastor Maldonado-” you heard Ted call your name as the camera man shoved his lens in your face. “Have a second to talk?”

“Always for you, Ted,” you put on your sparkliest smile for the camera and leant against the railing outside the hospitality building you had been seconds away from entering.

“You and Alex did well in qualifying, did that send some well needed morale throughout the team?”

“P6 and P10. Not too bad, eh? Of course doing well in quali is always a mood boost.”

“While I have you I have to ask about Lewis' contract negotiations.”

You groaned, “you were doing so well, Ted!”

This particular topic had followed you since you’d joined the Mercedes Junior team alongside George in 2017. You became their test driver in 2019 with all eyes watching as you became the first female driver to win the F2 championship. George had been promised an eventual Mercedes seat first and you were happy to wait your turn at Williams.

George hadn’t exactly been thrilled as he watched you accomplish more with the midfield team than he had ever been able to; scoring five podiums and one win since you’d joined the team three seasons ago.

“I know, I know, but the rumour around the paddock is that you’re next in line for the Mercedes seat when Lewis retires.”

“If Lewis retires. And I don’t think he will.” Toto had come to you as soon as they had started contract negotiations. He’d told you flat out that they wanted to keep the former world champion on the team.

“So there’s no plans for you to reunite with your former team mate?”

“Not that I’m aware, no. Alex and I work well together and I’m quite happy with how things are going. We won a race last year, had a few podiums-”

“And the season’s been looking good this year. You’ve gotten points in every race so far.”

“I know! In a Williams!”

“In a Williams!” Suddenly, Ted did what you’d hope he wouldn’t and noticed where you were standing. “I know we’ve been talking about a move to Mercedes, but how about a move to McLaren?”

The cameraman zoomed out to show you leaning against the railing outside McLaren hospitality.

“Would you believe it if I told you they’re the only team that has the name brand Wagon Wheels?”

It didn’t seem like he believed you. “You’ve come all the way to McLaren for biscuits?”

“Not just biscuits, Ted. Wagon Wheels. Plus I need to rub my three hundredths of a second lead in Lando’s face.”

“A true quality of a good sportswoman.” He could sense you were getting fidgety as you kept checking your watch, so like a professional he began to wrap it up. “Lovely talking to you as always, I’ll leave you to your Wagon Wheels.”

“If I see you later I’ll sneak you one,” you grinned as you finally slipped away to enter the building.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“What took you so long? I saw you outside ten minutes ago.” He’d tossed his phone on the couch beside him as soon as you’d stepped foot into his room, shrugging off your spray jacket. He held his arms out wide, a silent signal for you to move into his reach, which you happily did as his hands found rest on your waist.

“Got caught talking to Ted about my move to Mercedes,” your words were mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit and marshmallow. You hadn’t been lying about the Wagon Wheels.

He pulled you forward until your knees hit the couch, forcing you onto his lap. “When did that happen?”

Licking chocolate off your lips you smirked, “It didn’t. Hi baby,” you slung your arms over his shoulders and his cold hands slipped beneath your tee-shirt.

“I missed you today.”

“You saw me in the pit lane an hour ago.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I missed this,” he squeezed the flesh on your hips, his lips catching the underside of your jaw when you moved your head back. “You coming to my room tonight?”

“I dunno,” you fiddled with the drawstrings on his hoodie, twisting them around you finger. “Got a big race to prepare for tomorrow. Gotta keep my lead.”

You knew you should sleep alone before the race and get the full eight hours your coach was always talking about, but this man had his fingers wrapped around your heart and you knew it wouldn’t take much of his pleading or puppy dog eyes to end up in the same bed.

“Baby,” his little whine was always the same when he wasn’t getting his way, and you hated to admit it was adorable. And hard to turn down.

“We’re not having sex.”

He nodded, “just cuddling. I’ll even come to your room.”

“You say that but we’ll get in bed and you’ll try something,” you knew from experience. It’d happened before and all the thoughts about sleep and rest went out of your head the second he had his head between your thighs.

“I won’t, I swear. I’ll shower before I come over, I still have those pictures-”

“Lando,” you didn’t need to be reminded of the photos hidden away behind a passcode on Snapchat.

“Pretty please? I won’t even say anything if you want to watch that show you like.”

“You wanna watch Never Have I Ever?”

“No,” he drew out the syllable and you could feel him fidget beneath you. “But I’ll sit next to you and play on my phone while you watch it.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” it came out sarcastically but he just grinned, pressing his lips against your own.

“Do you think we have time for a-”

“Do not even think of finishing that question," you glared at him as he had the audacity to pout, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as his fingers crept up to tug on the hook of your bra. "You have ten minutes."

part 2 | read more of my writing here.

Made to order for a sweet anon for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: Pls join me in my fantasy of williams being a midfield team. I really love the idea of George being jealous that reader has been able to achieve more in a Williams than he ever was. Anyway, I said that I had a bigger backstory for driver!reader and lando, so if you like this let me know and I might write the beginning of there relationship/ them revealing it to the grid. Going to do a part 2/soft launch insta series for them next! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

taglist: @fulla02reads @lazybot @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @hrlzy @ghosttwit @inejghafawife @booksobsess @formulakay @1655-1485 @chonkybonky @peachiicherries @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @lilacsimps @diaa-20 @love4lando @imsorare @lunnnix @ctrlyomomma

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#waratah-vroom perfumes #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic recs #f1 fanfic #f1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris drabble

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discokicks · 9 months

Text

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life.

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it.

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.

me too.

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with.

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #bad ideas #the one who's not a loser but THEE loser #discowrites

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shadowskulls-blog · 3 months

Note

Carmilla Carmine with gf that was separated before they got married in life, reunite in death bc her gf was trying to steal some weapons and they fight but don’t recognize each other until one of them says something that’s an inside joke then they’re reunited and fluff ensues

Ohhh, yes! I love this. Also, I have read all the wiki's and done my research, so if something is not right....I'm sorry

* sfw, fluff, with a tiny hint of nsfw *

"You're foolish, you know that?" Carmilla spat at the hooded intruder holding double blades. She came by to do a routine check around the place until she noticed this woman, prying one of the boxes open, trying to steal her guns.

Not only did they get in which, kinda surprised her. But they were still standing against her, her. The most powerful overlord in the pride ring.

"No hard feelings, tall lady. I just like taking a 100 percent off discount on my stuff, " the woman said, flipping the blades in her hands as she stepped back a bit. The light's above showing her cocky grin

Camilla groaned as she started getting annoyed since it was making her remember her past life. She could only stand one person like this. But that was....years ago. But not now. She's not letting someone steal her work without a price or a limb going undone...

"Well, that's not going to happen," Carmilla said as she dashed forward, stepping side to side as she kept her eyes on the hooded woman. watching her closely as she was doing the same. Carmilla manged to get behind as the two of them began they're battle

The hooded woman managed to keep her ground as she blocked off Carmilla's kicks off her by hitting the blades at the angelic armor, Carmilla hummed as she fell to the ground kicking the woman off her feet, the woman yelped out in pain at the aching pain in her ankles and lower legs

Carmilla then zipped back up, grabbing the smaller woman by her neck and knocking the blades out of her hand. The hooded woman grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her hand away but to no avail as Carmilla tightened her grip around the woman's neck

"Heh- ah....guess I lost my way to woman with long legs..." the woman said with a choked chuckle, Carmilla then stopped choking the woman for a moment, a gasp escaping her lips as...

"I know my way with long-legged woman, don't I, Cammy?"

"Y/n?" Carmilla questioned as she pinched the woman's hood, hoping it was her wife. They had been separated when she died, but has she finally come back to her. Carmilla pulled the hood up to see they're face but, a new look and everything but still. That's the woman she married long ago and loved for years, even after death

"Cammy? Is that...holy shit ha ha... how did you get more beautiful? and taller, too!" You said with tears forming in your eyes as Carmilla's was the same. Soon, she wrapped her arm around your back and let go of your neck only to hold your face as she pulled you in for a kiss.

Both your lips connected with a smile as you wrapped your arms around her tightly. Both of you then let go, only for you to start giving her cheek kisses.

"My god! How did you get taller while I stayed the same height?" You asked with a chuckle as Carmilla held you in her arms since she kicked the spirt out of your ankles.

"Mi amor, how I have missed you. Didn't expect us to be reunited with a fight, " Carmilla joked as she creased your face gently. You blushed as you held her hand and gave her a heartwarming smile you knew she loved.

"Hey, love works in mysterious ways, does it not?" You said smiling at her as she held you close, after all these years. She'd finally found you, death might have part you both in the living world, but now you both have another life to live out your love in.

Sorry if it was short. But I hope it was good

#carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #hazbin hotel

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drak3n · 4 months

Text

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE: PROLOGUE

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: the launching of a new platform magically re-connecting seperated people has shaken the entirety of social media. after many months of contemplation and denial, you give in to your urges.

ꨄ. SENA’S NOTE: this merely serves as a way to introduce all eight parts of the mini-series! as they’re all characters from different fandoms, there clearly won’t be names or any specific action in this! so this is a little short :)

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE MASTERLIST

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

everywhere.

it was everywhere you went. following you around like it was your shadow, cornering you at any given possibility.

you knew the drill. once something went viral anywhere, it would stick around for some time and then be forgotten.

that wasn’t the case with this damn live show. not at all. the first time it had been announced on international tv must have been ages ago, like around the beginning of the year. yet, the hype never seemed to die down, with more and more people freaking out online and in real life about how it changed their lives.

you were convinced it was a scam. like come on, who even believed in a fairy tale like that? being reunited with a lost lover, or any kind of lover who it didn’t work out with?

there was a reason it hadn’t worked out. because if there wasn’t, you’d still surely be with that person.

it started with trailers being shown on every channel you zipped through, announcing free slots for their newest season and putting emphasis on their confidentiality. how people had the choice to stay anonymous while spilling their private and embarrassing matters to so-called love experts.

such bullshit.

now, it went way past that. you ended up avoiding watching tv, just to literally be haunted by that cursed show in other ways. through flyers and stickers flying around, through posters hung up on subway stations and even inside of said subways, hell, a couple of days ago, there was even an airship promoting it.

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE. a silly name for a concept just as silly as that.

what did you have to do again to apply?

right, as if there was any way of forgetting with how much your coworkers were babbling about it. they made sure to remind you of that every day.

“i’m still thinking if i should just call them the next time and try my luck,” you heard one of many tell another while you were waiting in the line for your lunch. “i really, really want to make up with my ex. they’re my only hope.”

their conversation went on for many more minutes, and you were glad when you finally were next in line to greet the lunch lady with a tired smile. as she filled your tray in a halfhearted manner, your smile quickly faded away upon hearing her talk to a fellow worker behind the counters.

“my son and his teenage love reconciled after he applied there. they are awaiting their first child soon!” the elderly woman gushed while placing a cup of pudding onto your tray, waiting for you to scan your employee id before you shuffled away from the line to plop down on an empty space in the crowded lunch hall.

it was all the same. love, love, love. always those same old problems. getting dumped, being abandoned, or doing the dumping and abandoning.

regret, sadness, frustration, desperation.

you came home that sane evening with thoughts plaguing your mind; with the big question if those were all signs for you to see. if everything you’d been hearing and seeing for these past couple of months were meant to open your eyes, somehow. to get the hint.

making a beeline to your bedroom, your eyes darted to the package placed on your bed. still untouched and waiting to be sent. the pastel pink stamp had been placed on the corner of the box yesterday by you. those fuckers made so much money with their hit show that they distributed stamps, to force them to send more drama their way for them to indulge in.

it was stupid that you had even put in the effort to package what was meant to have been tossed away long ago. it might or might not have been long yet, but why did you keep that?

as a writer, you couldn’t contain yourself. even back then, you had always known you’d end up becoming anything connected to writing, journaling, whatever. it was almost annoying how you used to document all those feelings you couldn’t put into words.

specifically writing letters had always been your passion. writing down your heartbreaks and grief into words and making them come to life on paper.

words you failed to tell him.

the recipients were all written on the envelopes inside the box, some years ago, and some recently, and you didn’t even know if they were still the same addresses.

for some, you knew for sure they weren’t.

even if the cast of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE — if they picked you, that is — wouldn’t find their current addresses, you were for sure going to be relieved. those letters had been a significant burden on your heart ever since you had written them.

for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel any kind of satisfaction from writing. these letters existed to be sent. and you were realizing it just now.

they were meant to be read aloud, understood. they had to be read by others for you to be at peace with your unresolved feelings.

the very next morning, you handed the package to the post office, bidding farewell to years of bottled-up and hidden feelings.

it wasn’t until a week later that you received a letter, with the same pink stamp and sender the same you had sent your letters to. you found yourself reading it in front of the door to your apartment:

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

dear contestant,

we thank you for your package and were enthralled to read about your experiences. upon short discussions within our team of experts, we soon decided to choose your case to present in our next live airing, which is going to be this saturday!

the letters have already been sent out to their respective addresses — some of which we had to adjust as there have been changes.

it is up to you if you want to join us for our next airing — it be via call or even by showing up at our studio! we will welcome you in any case and make sure you will reunite with one of your lost loves.

please do not worry, as we will handle all of your data with the utmost care and make sure that none of it is leaked for other purposes.

up until then, stay lovely and trust the process!

ꨄ. your TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE cast

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

PROCEED TO OPEN LETTER

THE LOST LOVE ꨄ TOJI FUSHIGURO

THE ONE NIGHT STAND ꨄ HIROMI HIGURUMA

THE NEMESIS ꨄ ATSUMU MIYA

THE BEST FRIEND ꨄ KEN RYUGYJI

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS GONE WRONG ꨄ SHUJI HANMA

THE FORBIDDEN LOVE ꨄ LEVI ACKERMAN

RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIMING ꨄ TOUYA TODOROKI

THE BOY NEXT DOOR ꨄ SHOUEI BAROU

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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beskarandblasters · 2 months

Text

Was it all a dream?

Chapter Eight: It isn't the same but it is enough

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Series summary: You’ve always had vivid dreams, an escape from your monotonous life. But one night, something appears in your dreams that keeps reoccurring; a pair of brown eyes. -Or- Two people, in completely different parts of the galaxy, find each other in their dreams and try to make sense of the strange connection they share.

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), switches between Reader and Din’s POV, story takes place in the dream realm and the real world, takes place somewhere between the end of season two/Book of Boba Fett/beginning + middle of season three, eventual smut, line between reality and dreams gets blurred, use of Mando’a words and phrases, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Din takes a bounty-hunting job on Tatooine before the Mandalorians reclaim Mandalore. Just when you think you're free, someone comes to capture you and turn you in for your crimes.

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter warnings: light jealousy, restraints, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Din

It’s been a whirlwind few weeks for Din. After he left Tatooine he set his sights on Mandalore, looking to redeem himself in the living waters. All with Grogu at his side. He thinks about his dreams with you, where he called Grogu his son, where you called him his son. It all feels natural now that they’re reunited. The only missing thing is you.

He thought he would just redeem himself and continue his search for you. He was wrong.

Redeeming himself at the Mines of Mandalore went horribly. He was attacked by Alamites and captured by a Cyborg, leaving Grogu to fend for himself. Luckily, Grogu was able to take the ship back to Kalevala to get Bo-Katan to help. Once again, Din just assumed that once he was rescued he could continue with his quest. He was wrong again.

It isn’t until Bo-Katan is welcomed to the new covert and the group returns to Nevarro that Din finds a free moment. Once the pirate attack is taken care of and the covert reclaims their old space. It’s been weeks at this point. He hasn’t had a free moment to even think about finding you. He’s barely sleeping and when he does sleep he’s barely remembering his dreams, not aware of them at all most of the time. Sometimes he’s lucky he sees flashes on your face but it’s not often. He wonders where you are. If you’ve lost hope in the relationship since he’s been so busy.

But when he’s doubting everything the most, the Maker gives him the answer to his prayers.

On top of being the High Magistrate of Nevarro, Karga still runs the Bounty Hunter’s Guild, where two very important bounties come in.

“Mando?” Karga asks him, stepping out of the guild just as Din walks by. The covert’s been here for a few days, finalizing their plan to return to Mandalore. Which is why Karga’s hoping Din will say yes.

“What is it?” Din says, turning to face him. Grogu stops beside him, still getting around with IG-12.

“I know you’re leaving soon but do you have time for these two bounties? They’re on Tatooine.”

He doesn’t have time. But he’s been to Tatooine plenty of times. And something about this is telling him to say yes. He was just looking for you on Tatooine. Could this be a sign?

“Let me take a look,” he says, shuffling past Karga and heading inside the Guild.

He takes his familiar place at Karga’s booth, sitting across from him. Grogu stands beside the booth, mindlessly pressing random buttons. But when Karga pulls out the two holopucks, Din’s heart drops into his stomach.

The first one is some random guy named Shoan. But the second one? The second one is you. He can’t believe his eyes. There you are, your image projected in the blue, flicking light. You’re real but he already knew that from the time your underwear materialized from his dream. But you’re on Tatooine and you’re so close within reach. He wishes he could look at your picture without his helmet in the way. His ears are ringing with excitement but he tries to tune it out. He has to listen to what Karga says about you.

“These two stole a ship from Naboo, a J-type 327 Nubian Starship. Witnesses caught them sneaking around one of the largest docking yards on Theed.”

Naboo? What were you doing on Naboo?

“Sources say they’re on Tatooine now. Most likely holed up in Mos Espa.”

Karga places the tracking fobs on the table and Din swiftly grabs everything, anxious to get out of there already.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah. No problem,” he says quickly, barreling out of there. Grogu follows behind him and once they’re back to the covert he scoops him out of IG-12, handing him to Bo-Katan. She raises her eyebrow when Din asks her to watch Grogu while he’s gone but she doesn’t ask any questions. She knows he’s a bounty hunter but she doesn’t question why this one seems so urgent. He tells the Armorer he’ll be gone for a bit, maybe a couple of rotations tops. There’s a tinge of annoyance in her voice when she responds, telling him not to take too long but he doesn’t care. This will be the fastest bounty he’s tracked down in his life.

With a clear mind and a newfound purpose, he takes off on Nevarro, setting a course for Tatooine. Once he’s comforted by the familiar glow of hyperspace he lets his mind wander. He’s been so focused on you he hasn’t even thought about who you’re with. Who is this man? You never mentioned anyone else.

Shoan.

He’s spiraling now, much like the blue swirls of hyperspace around him. Has this man been there the whole time? And if so why didn’t you tell him?

Does he even have a right to be jealous? He had sex with that prostitute on Coruscant. He didn’t tell you about it either. It wasn’t on purpose. There are lots of details he doesn’t remember about his life when he’s in the dream realm. But when his mind is quiet, which is rare lately, he thinks about you and what your reaction would be if you found out about the night at the brothel. He always tries to quickly put that thought out of his mind. Thankfully, he hasn’t had a free moment to think about this stuff lately.

For now, he lets hyperspace hypnotize him to sleep.

You

The flight to Tatooine is even rougher than the flight to Naboo. To say that Shoan doesn’t understand how to pilot this ship would be an understatement. It’s a miracle you made it to Tatooine in the first place.

He landed the ship in the middle of the desert and the two of you made your way to the nearest town– Mos Espa.

As you made the schlep there you thought about your dream that took place here. Din wasn’t kidding about the suns and how harsh they were. And to think there was a time when you yearned to feel the sun on your skin.

Once you got to Mos Espa you hung around the local cantina, unsure of where to go next. You were hoping someone would take pity on you and Shoan, especially in your heat exhaustion-riddled state.

Lucky for you, you got just what you needed. A kind innkeeper named Mila took you in. You agreed to work in housekeeping and Shoan in maintenance for a free room but also reduced pay. You agreed and the rest was history.

Fast forward a few weeks later to the present. You’re sharing a two queen bed room with Shoan because that’s all Mila could spare. It could be worse. You could be forced to cozy up in a king bed together.

But still, you’re not used to sharing a room with someone, let around that someone being Shoan of all people, so sleep is less than desirable. You’ve been seeing Din in your dreams but not in the way you’d like. It’s more like flickering images of his face before you wake up. It’s a tease of what your dreams once were.

Thankfully, Shoan hasn’t been inappropriate with you. Now that there are several other humans to choose from, he doesn’t need you. You’re not offended. Though it’s pretty annoying when he demands use of the room and you have to make yourself busy for a few hours…

Whatever, it’s fine. You’ll feel a sense of normalcy soon.

It’s a typical afternoon for you today. You just got done cleaning all of the rooms at the inn and you’re at the end of your shift. Shoan said he needed the room for a few hours so you have no choice but to entertain yourself elsewhere. You quickly change out of your work uniform and into more comfortable clothes before heading to the cantina, hoping that there’s a band playing tonight.

But as you step out of the inn something blinds you. And it’s not the suns for once.

Coming towards you is a man, covered in silver armor that the light is reflecting off of. You blink a few times, letting your eyes get adjusted to the light. And when you do you notice he’s covered in weapons. His stance, the way he walks, the silence from him– it’s all imposing and threatening. You’re frozen in fear, unintentionally ignoring every impulse to turn and run. He keeps coming towards you, reaching for something on his hip and that’s when the instinct to run finally kicks in.

You turn on your heel and try to run but he’s faster than you, even under all the layers and armor in this sweltering heat. You don’t dare turn your head and try to look behind you, you can just feel him gaining on you. But as you pathetically try to run, people stop and stare, mouths hanging open at the scene unfolding in the street.

Before you know if you’re falling to the ground with sand flying up in the air around you. Something is caught around your ankles. You look down and it’s some type of silver cord wrapped tight. The sun hurts your eyes for a split second before the man that was chasing you towers over you. He blocks out the sun and you’re cast in his massive shadow, feeling hopeless. You wonder why no one is stopping to help you. But then the man crouches down and pulls out a holopuck with your picture on it. And it all makes sense.

“This is you, right?”

You open your mouth but no words come out. Your jaunt around the galaxy is over. It doesn’t matter that you stole a ship on Naboo. The Sullustans still found a way to track you, even after trying so hard to be careful.

The man releases the cord around your ankle and helps you up. The freedom is quickly lost however when handcuffs enclose your wrists. He grabs you by the arm and walks you out of Mos Espa, dragging you to his ship. You wonder about Shoan and whether there’s a bounty after him. Maybe he’s already captured and waiting for you on this man’s ship. Maybe they don’t want him for some reason. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. The taste of freedom you had is being ripped away from you in an instant.

The man pulls you up the ramp of his large but albeit awkward-looking ship. Once the ramp is sealed shut he sits you down on a metal crate, pulling up another one to sit across from you. He’s silent for a moment, the visor of his helmet moving up and down, studying you.

“Hello?” you ask, the first word you’ve uttered to him since he captured you.

He doesn’t answer, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“Look, if you’re just going to bring me back to Sullust can we get it over with already? Or better yet, can you just kill me instead?”

“You’re not going back to Sullust,” he says simply.

“…Okay? So where am I going?”

He doesn’t answer again and now you’re getting fed up. You feel like he’s ignoring you or stalling until he can finally tell you what’s going on. You close your eyes and lean back against the cool metal wall, questioning every choice you made that led up to this point.

Din

It’s you. It’s really you sitting before him. What he’s yearned for for so long is finally before him. Yet he finds himself conflicted.

You don’t recognize him. You’re clearly afraid of him. The easiest solution would be to take off his helmet and reveal himself to you. But he just redeemed himself.

He feels stupid for getting conflicted. He’s wanted you for so long and now that you’re in the palm of his hand, he’s not going to go through with it? Besides, who’s to say that one day you won’t become his riduur? Surely, he could reveal his face to his future riduur? But now he’s getting a bit carried away.

It hurts to see you like this; scared and defeated. So without thinking, he lifts his helmet off his head. He expects a response but you’re still leaning back with your eyes closed. He sets the helmet on the ground and reaches forward, placing a gloved hand on your knee. You startle with a jolt, ready to say something but instead, your jaw hangs open, eyes wide with shock.

“…Din? Is that you?” you say with a shaky breath.

He reaches behind you, unlocking your cuffs and grabbing your hands, bringing them to your lap. He squeezes them and meets your gaze, telling you, “It’s me, ner vercopa.”

“H-How did you find me?”

He lets go of your hands to pull out your holopuck, along with Shoan’s.

“There’s a bounty on your head. Along with this guy. You two stole a ship on Naboo?”

You let out a sigh of relief and say, “It’s just for the ship on Naboo. I thought SoroSuub was coming after us.”

“I think we both have some explaining to do.”

He scooches his crate closer and returns his hands to yours, listening to every detail of your story; what life was like on Sullust, how you planned to escape, how Shoan was your unlikely accomplice. He feels a wave of relief wash over him when he learns that nothing is going on between you and Shoan. But also a pang of guilt. Here you are traveling across the galaxy with a man you can’t stand just for the chance to find him. Meanwhile, Din’s sleeping with prostitutes in brothels on his quest for you.

No. He’s not going to let that sour the moment.

As he watches you speak he tries not to compare you to how you are in the dream world. But it’s impossible.

Part of him was worried you wouldn’t compare, or that you’d even look different. But you’re far better than his wildest dreams could’ve imagined. You’re real and full of life, eyes sparkling when you talk about something you’re passionate about and mouth curving into a smile when you look upon his face. And Maker, your voice. He finds himself hanging on every word you say.

He gets up from his crate and sits beside you on yours, putting his arm around your shoulders. Sitting across from you wasn’t enough and now that you’re here he fears he’s going to have a hard time keeping his hands off you. You lean into him, finishing your story before turning your face towards his.

“What about you? What’s your story?”

“I’m a Mandalorian.”

“I didn’t know there were many left. I’ve only ever heard stories.”

“We were sort of scattered across the galaxy, living in the shadows. It’s all about to change soon.”

“I guess this explains what you meant when you said you don’t normally look like this. Do you wear that helmet all the time?”

“Pretty much.”

“Do you ever take it off?”

“Only when I’m alone.”

“But you just-”

“I know. It’ll be okay.”

“Have you taken it off in front of others before?”

“When Grogu was leaving to train with the Jedi.”

“The Jedi you mentioned before?”

“One of them.”

“So what do you do now?”

“I’ve been a bounty hunter for a long time. That’s how I found Grogu.”

“You sure you won’t get in trouble for this?” you ask, reaching your hand out and caressing his face. You brush your thumb along the hair on his jawline and his skin feels like it’s set aflame.

“Don’t worry, ner vercopa.”

He leans into you and kisses you, inhaling your scent and reveling in the way you feel. You’re already pressed up against each other but it’s not enough. He has to have you now. It’s not enough being side by side.

So he stands up, reaching his hand out to you. You take it and stand, letting him lead you to his bunk. You stand before each other, the air teeming with sexual tension.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment, ner vercopa,” he says suggestively, grabbing your waist.

“Me too, Din,” you say, fingers gravitating towards the hem of your shirt. You pull it off over your head while he takes off his gloves, tossing them on the floor. His hands caress the outline of your breasts, staring at them with wide eyes. You tilt your head and lean in for a kiss, running your hands through his hair because you know he loves it so much. For once the dream realm is no different than real life, considering the way he moans into the kiss, melting in your hands. He gently pushes you down on the bed and his hands slide down your waist, reaching for your pants. He pulls them off in one swift motion along with your underwear.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he crouches down to the floor, kneeling at the foot of the bunk. His hand runs up and down your inner thigh. It’s your first time doing this in real life but it feels just as natural as if you’ve done this hundreds of times before. He hooks his arms around your thighs, pausing to inhale the scent of your pussy before taking the first lick. You relax and settle into the bunk, already feeling yourself tremble under his touch. His tongue flicks around your clit before he latches his mouth to it, sucking harder and harder until you’re brought to the edge of orgasm already. Your back arches up off the bunk and he tightens his grip around your thighs to keep you in place, humming into your clit as you cum. The tension built up in your core releases and just as you expected it’s better here than in the dream realm.

He’s not quite finished with you yet, taking his index and middle finger and bringing them to his mouth. He moistens them before inserting his index finger inside you slowly. His tongue returns to your clit, working hard to bring you to your second orgasm. Your cheeks heat up and your moans take a higher pitch, jumping an octave when the middle finger slides inside you. He pushes his fingers against your g-spot in a come here motion as he sucks your clit again. He’s delirious, drunk on your scent and your taste, determined to make you cum. His eyes don’t leave you, studying the physical reactions of your pleasure; the way your chest heaves, your moans filling up the small space, your nipples perked up and stiff.

Like clockwork, he gets you to cum again. Your walls clench his fingers as you soak the lower half of his face. He doesn’t stop as you ride out your high, prolonging it further. He hums at your taste again before running his tongue up and down your cunt, lapping up the rest of your release. He pulls away and rests his head against your thigh, looking at you with all of the love and adoration in the galaxy.

“Just as sweet as I dreamed it would be.”

Your cheeks heat up at his praise while he rises from the floor. You inch up on the bed to make room for him and spread your thighs, letting him get settled there. He reaches a hand down and collects your spend, spreading it on his cock and giving it a few strokes. He rests on his elbows, placed by either side of your head before pushing into you slowly.

The eye contact is intense but it’s what you’ve both been yearning for for so long, to be face to face with one another, tangled in the sheets and each other’s limbs.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he murmurs.

“Mando’a?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he says, leaning in to kiss you deeply.

Before he can completely pull away you whisper it back, making him kiss you longer and harder. All while his pace thrusting in and out of you never falters. Your hands find his hair again and for a moment it’s hard to tell where you begin and end. Even then, you want to be even closer together. With one last slam of his hips into you, you cum around his cock, moaning and whimpering into the kiss. He pulls his head back, studying your face as you cum. And the sensation triggers his own. You’re filled with his cum as he orgasms, his head buried into the crook of your neck. You tug on his hair again and he sinks his teeth in your neck, moaning as he releases his spend inside you.

When you’re both done, he pulls out and lies beside you, reeling in the bliss of what just happened.

You

“I’m sorry for coming inside you,” he says.

“You said that the first time.”

“I know but this time it matters.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you chuckle.

“I’ll get you a pill. Don’t worry.”

“So where do we go from here? You’re not turning me in, are you?” you say, rolling over on your side to face him.

“Of course not. Don’t worry about Shoan either.”

“What happens to the bounty then?”

“I’ll just pay off whoever set it.”

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“Anything for you, ner vercopa,” he says, angling his head towards yours for a kiss.

He murmurs that he loves you again, always in Mando’a. But before you can respond, a loud beep comes from the cockpit followed by a woman’s voice.

“Din? Are you on your way back yet? We’re ready to head to Mandalore.”

He reluctantly gets out of the bunk, dragging himself to the cockpit. You sit up and put on your shirt, getting up to lean against the doorframe as you listen.

“On my way,” he lies.

The realization is settling in. You’re his and he’s yours. But the real world will never compare to the dream realm. In your dreams you were alone with no responsibilities, all the time in the world to focus on just each other. Here, you’re plagued with life and the shit that comes with it.

Din comes down from the cockpit and scrambles around you, gathering his helmet and his gloves while you stand there and stare off into space. Another wave of realization hits you.

It isn’t the same but it is enough.

The end

End note: Thank you all so much for reading! This has been such as fun series to write!! Thank you to @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @clawdee @pedgito and @sweetercalypso for listening to be ramble about this series/beta reading for me! I wouldn’t have been able to do this without yall 🤍

If you’d like to read more Din fics from me check out my Din masterlist and keep an eye out for my next series, Stonecatcher, coming in April! 🤍

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Art by Roger Mattos

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 11

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I had such a hectic day but decided I wanted to stay up late and upload anyways. Prepare yourselves for a plot twist!!!

Content Warnings - Mentions of suicide/torture

How long had you been here? Weeks? Months? None of that mattered to you. You were happy here.

The capital doctors had fixed you. No more meltdowns over people touching you; no more urges to kill. You were finally healed.

You don’t know why they took the route of healing you while they tortured the others, but who were you to complain? They had made you whole again. Maybe they thought that making you realize the stability you had lived without for the past five years would be a form of torture. Maybe they thought it would make you sad. It didn’t. It made you the happiest you had been in a long time.

The only thing that would make you happier would be seeing Finnick. You know he’s not in the capital. Peeta said he saw him on the screen the other day while he was doing an interview, so you know he’s alive. You just hope you’ll be reunited soon.

Hopefully he will come here and they can fix him too. He may not show it, but his games and the years after have left him with a lot of scars. If he comes, you’ll make sure he gets the same treatment you received.

The power here keeps flickering out. Peeta says it’s cause the dam in District 5 was destroyed. Apparently Finnick and Katniss are in District 13 and the capital sent bombs. Peeta warned them and got extra torture because of it.

Johanna is silent outside of her screams. Whatever they’re doing to her sounds horrible. You don’t want to find out.

“Y/N!” Peeta whispers loudly to you. His room is across from yours and you can hear each other under the door.

“What?” you respond.

“I overheard them talking about you,” he states. “The peacekeepers were talking about your treatment.”

“What about it?” you ask.

“I didn’t hear all of it,” he explains, “and it’s hard for me to know what’s real nowadays, but they said something about a timer going off and how they would make you crazy again. We have to get out before they hurt us.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him annoyed. “They won’t hurt me. Snow promised.”

Just as Peeta goes to respond, the lights cut out again and peacekeepers enter the hall. They usually set up extra guards when the power goes out in case anyone tries to escape. Why would you escape? You like it here.

It must be an hour later when panic sets in. You hear a hiss coming from the hall and what sounds like people falling over. You don’t have time to think, however, before your door is opened and a canister of smoke is thrown into your room. Peeta was right. They are going to hurt you.

“Did you always love her?” Katniss asks Finnick as they wait for the rescue team to return. All communication had been cut off but the two were still holding onto hope that they would return safely.

“No,” he chuckles. “I guess she snuck up on me.”

“How?” Katniss asks.

“After her incident in the capital Snow killed her family,” he explains. “I moved in with her because she wasn’t stable enough to live on her own. We were scared she was going to kill herself and selfishly I couldn’t let the one victor I had brought home at that point die.”

Katniss nods her head in understanding and Finnick continues.

“I don’t know if I’d even call us friends when I first lived with her. She wasn’t thrilled I moved in and found me annoying, yet I was the only one she would talk to. She wouldn’t even speak to Mags,” he states. “Before Annie’s games my nightmares got worse. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night completely disoriented. Instead of running or turning violent she would stay. Whenever I woke her up she would come to my room and sit near me till I fell asleep again. Something just clicked at that point and I knew I couldn’t live without her. I still can’t.”

“I never even told her I loved her,” he sadly says to Katniss.

“She knows,” Katniss responds. “And I know she loves you too.”

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #thg finnick #thg series #finnick odair angst #finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fluff #catching fire #mockingjay #the feral one

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feelingf1 · 9 months

Text

reunited - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

summary: charles was the boy next door for a lot of your childhood, that was until he left one day without saying goodbye. you decide to go to the Monaco gp, but will he recognize you?

authors note: this sounded way better in my head, but i wanted to post something since I haven’t in a while.

enjoy!

—————

17 Years Ago:

You rushed down the stairs as fast as your little feet could carry you, grabbing your coat off the hook as you reached the bottom. You had spent all day watching out of your window, waiting for Charles, your next door neighbor and best friend, to come home from his week-long trip to Spain.

“Mama, Charles is home! Can I go see him?” You called out to your mother, who was tidying the kitchen. She smiled softly at you. “I don’t know love, they’ve had a long day full of traveling, they’re probably tired.”

You weren’t going to give up that easily. “But Mama, Charles said I could go see him as soon as he came home. Please? I haven’t seen him in like years.” Your mother shook her head, laughing. “Okay, you can go. But if Pascale is not in the mood to have you over, come right back. Okay?”

You ran over to your mother and hugged her leg tight. “Yes, thanks Mama.” and you practically sprinted out the door, not stopping until you rang Charles’ doorbell.

Pascale opened the door and called up the stairs for Charles to come down. “Y/N, I missed you.” he screamed and hugged you tightly. You returned the hug, grinning from ear to ear. “I missed you too. Where did you go?”

“I went to a karting race in Spain, and I nearly won.” The pride was extremely visible across his face as he held out the photos that his older brother, Lorenzo, took whilst he was driving.

“I got a silver medal, come and see.” The two of you joined hands, sprinting up the steps into Charles’ bedroom. He held out the medal and you took it into your hands.

“Charlie, this is so cool! You’re going to be the best driver ever when you’re older.” He smiled, “I hope so. I really want to driver for Ferrari when I’m older.”

You felt your heart drop a bit after hearing this. You thought that the two of you would live on the Monaco coast forever, like you had promised.

“But Charlie, Ferrari is in Italy, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“But then we wouldn’t live together here.”

“I can live here too, or you can move to Italy with me. Don’t worry Y/N, I will never leave you.”

You looked up at him, “Promise?” He nodded, “Promise.” “Okay good.” you said, “You can’t break a promise.”

“I won’t. Now come here and look at the photos of the beach.” He said as he grabbed your hand and jumped onto the bed with you, photos flying everywhere.

a few months later

As the bus dropped you off at your gate, you sprinted towards the door, rushing to ask your mother for permission to go and see Charles. He hadn’t been in school all week, but it was wintertime, and you’d just assumed he was sick.

You rushed into the kitchen. “Mama, can I-”

You met your mother sitting at the kitchen table, with a sad smile on her face. “Y/N, come sit, we have to talk.”

You threw your bag on the floor and sat into the chair, your mother looked very upset, which worried you as she was normally an extremely happy and bright person.

“Pascale called me this morning Y/N. She had to move back to her home in Italy, her parents are very sick and she needs to help them out.”

You felt upset, Pascale was practically your second mother, but you were happy that you still had Charles.

“That’s sad, but at least Charlie is still here.”

Your mother reached out and grabbed your hand, stroking it softly. “No, Y/N. Pascale took Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo with her. They all moved to Italy.”

You burst into tears. You couldn’t believe that you had lost your best friend, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“But Mama.” You cried, through sobs. “Why didn’t he say goodbye?”

A tear rolled down her cheek, she hated seeing you so upset. “It was so sudden Y/N. She didn’t tell Charles or Arthur because she didn’t want to make you all sad. But don’t worry, Pascale said that he’ll write letters to you and maybe come visit you, okay?”

You crawled into your mother’s lap, still sobbing into her soft jumper. “I didn’t want him to go. He promised he’d never leave me Mama.”

“I know pet, but this was something nobody can control.” She said, stroking your hair. “Come on, let’s watch a movie to make you feel better.”

She wrapped you up in your arms and carried you to the living room.

“I can’t wait to get his letters Mama. They’ll be so exciting.”

You waited day after day, but the letters never came.

17 Years Later:

You grabbed the white blazer that was hanging in your wardrobe and put it on with a green top underneath. Today you were going to the Monaco GP with your two best friends, who had managed to get their hands on paddock passes.

As you curled your hair and did your makeup, you couldn’t help but think about Charles. He wasn’t just your home hero, but your childhood best friend, who you still sorely missed many years later.

You tried everything to reach out to him, sending him messages, letters, posting tweets, absolutely everything, but he probably just thought you were another crazy fan, which broke your heart.

Your friends entered your room. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your bag from your table.

The atmosphere at the race was incredible as always. This was the first year though that you weren’t watching from a balcony at your friends house, you were actually in the paddock, and it was incredible.

“So, are you gonna try and speak to Charles?” One of your friends asked, knowing the history between you two.

“No, no. He won’t remember me, and he’ll probably think I’m just some lunatic or something.” It hurt you to say it, but you knew it was true. Charles was driving for Ferrari, there’s no way that his childhood best friend was still on his mind.

You headed to the bar and got a couple of drinks, before heading to the paddock to see all of the garages of the drivers. It felt so surreal, seeing all of this in real life.

As you walked down the paddock with your friends, you managed to grab pictures with a few of the drivers, until you headed down to the Ferrari garage and saw him, you saw Charles.

Your friends nudged you, encouraging you to even just say hi. You felt nerves and panic rise in your chest, but pushed them down and did it anyways.

You smiled broadly and waved. “Hi Charles!” You called out to him. He looked at you, returning a thin-lipped smile and a wave and continued on his way, stopping for photos and autographs, but not stopping to turn back around for you.

That was it. He had forgotten you. You knew it was a high possibility he wouldn’t remember you, but that didn’t stop you from hoping for a fairytale story, where he’d remember you, swoop you into his arms, and apologize for everything. Instead you were hit with the reality, and that caused tears to stream down your cheeks.

Your friends grabbed your arms and led you out of the paddock and towards your seats. You still cheered Charles on, after all, he was your home hero, even after what just happened. At the end of the race, Charles finished P2, and the whole crowd, including you, erupted in cheers, even if you were tired and heartbroken.

Your friends turned to you. “So, are you coming to watch the music acts?” You were a sucker for concerts, but the thought of wrapping yourself up in your bedsheets feeling heartbroken was much more appealing.

“No, but please, you guys go. I’ll be fine.” You hugged them goodbye and headed home to your apartment overlooking the coast. You threw off your clothes, climbing into a hoodie and joggers, not even having the energy to take your makeup off. You curled into bed, staring at the photos on your wall, when your eyes landed on one in particular.

It was a photo of your 8th birthday. You were wearing a pink princess dress, and Charles was stood beside you, wrapping his arms around you. There was chocolate cake smeared across both of your faces and you were laughing. You felt the tears starting again, wishing you could go back to those moments, wishing that Charles had kept his promise.

You were moments away from falling to sleep, when you heard your doorbell ring. You were originally going to ignore it, but the repeated ringing declared that this person wasn’t going away until you opened the door.

You headed to the door and your mouth fell open when you saw who was standing there.

“Charles?” You asked.

He stepped in without saying nothing and engulfed you into a hug, which you immediately returned. You started to sob into his jumper.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You managed to croak out. He held you out so he could look at your face.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything, for not recognizing you straight away, for leaving you all those years ago, for breaking our promise. I’m so sorry.”

You held your hand up to his face, cupping it gently. “It’s okay. You had to go. We couldn’t do anything to stop that. How did you find me?”

“I thought you looked really familiar when you waved at me earlier, it was playing on my mind all day. I seen your friends again and I asked them and they said that it was you. They told me you came hoping I would recognize you, and when I didn’t, it broke your heart, so I came right over.” Tears fell from his eyes too, which he tried to wipe away quickly.

You hugged him tight again. “I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so proud of you Charles, for achieving your dreams. I’ve followed you every step of the way, I want you to know that.” You whispered softly into his ear.

“Move in with me.” He said, out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ve found you now and I never want to let you go again. I don’t want to break our promise again either. Move in with me. Or I can move in with you here in Monaco, we can-”

You cut off his rambling. “Yes, yes I’ll move in with you Charlie. We’ll never lose each other again.”

You grinned at each other from ear to ear. This was it, your fairytale ending, and it was better than ever.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 imagine

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taegularities · 7 months

Note

hi, could you maybe write something for STARS BEHIND WAVES?

maybe about how they’re doing right now? (fluff, maybe suggestive?)

I really really love this story of yours:)))

Do you think you’ll write an epilogue someday?

(No pressure, i’m just really obsessed with this story)

Have a nice day/good night;)

fic: stars behind waves

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: kissing, suggestive, his wandering hands and crude mouth lol, this is literally one of the softest couple i have and i love them so much, mention of fear of heights, oc is scared of a river :'), jealousy <3 pure fluff and bliss and love!! wc: 3.1k lol a/n: thank you for the request!! definitely one of my fav fics 🥺 i don't think i will be able to write an epilogue :( but rest assured, they're the happiest they can be. also, i really kinda love this lil drabble, so if you do, too, lmk hehe <3 a/n 2: i just found this in my drafts from when we were playing the amc game a couple months ago lol. hope you enjoy. is also unedited, so be gentle with me lmaoo <3

–

“Maldives.”

“God, no,” you reject, “sounds gorgeous, but. I can't deal with the heat anymore.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, fatigued from the unproductive day, but agrees, “Okay. Maybe you’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of…”

The last words turn into a mumble, drifting when his attention does. He scrolls on, big eyes glued to the bright screen. He’s been changing tabs for hours now; between travel destinations and booking sites, he’s exhausted himself.

Several three-digit-numbers have burned themselves into your brain from comparing a dozen vacations; planning such a thing is tedious.

You saved money for this. Working your ass off throughout the year, putting extra effort in overtime hours to visit a place you’ve only dreamed of thus far. Jungkook graduated, and you promised you’d steer towards an unforgettable summer.

His shifts at the bookstore were tiring, too. One too many times you called during lunch break just to meet a groggy voice. The late dinners at home transpired similarly quiet, his eyes similarly fatigued.

Then he’d cling onto you at night; he found your warmth solacing. Would tug you in, smack his lips. Yawn against your shoulder before slipping into dreamland, uttering a couple last mumbled “I love you”s and pouty, whiny “Don’t wanna work”s.

Summer couldn’t come faster.

But so couldn’t dinner.

“Maybe we should think about it another time,” you say. “I’m getting hungry.”

Jungkook drops the attached laptop mouse dramatically, shoving it away as he leans back on his chair and declares, “Thank fuck. I’m starving.”

“Should’ve just said something.”

Dinner is relieving to the two of you; having used up all words for today, you eat in peace, each enjoying your meal. Jungkook, reaching for his glass of water, looks up at you once, bowl half empty.

His eyes land above your clavicles, right where the charm dangles. Sparkles. The stars he promised you almost two decades ago. He can’t believe it’s barely been two years since the summer occurred when he found you again.

Time has passed; the two of you reunited with ease.

Spending days and nights together doesn’t come without fights — occasionally, you snap at each other, reminding the other of lonely times, spitting words that soon turn into regret.

But those arguments, as natural as sunlight, pass quickly and give way to comforting words, lips on scarred cheeks, hands over warm bodies.

Even when you were younger, you’d make up softly, comfortably. Would apologise and seek an unknown spot on the island, starving for a distraction. You’d find yet another shell without pearls in it; would try to make things right.

Jungkook remembers one day particularly well; surprising how well it fits this very moment.

Back then you’d hiked up a hill, dizzy in the damp summer heat. You cursed at Jungkook for dragging you along when you’d suggested an effortless, pleasant afternoon at the small market.

Halfway through your journey, you feared you’d gotten lost. You didn’t meet people anymore. The forest grew more tense. You kept your eyes and ears open for snakes or bears or whatever might linger here.

You only felt a sliver of hope when you heard water splashing nearby, hoping it was a lake or the ocean. But what you found instead filled you with far more discomfort.

Not because the river that you found on top wasn’t very narrow or harmless. Neither because it ended in a waterfall that fell for quite a while and then continued the same river, meeting the ocean somewhere.

No, you felt terrified because you knew what Jungkook would want to do.

“Let’s go back,” you immediately blurted.

But he was already on his shit, shaking his head with a twinkle in his dark eyes. You pulled at his tee, ready to turn at your heel and roll down the hill. Jungkook, however, pushed your hand away, freeing himself from your touch.

“No. Let’s cross this.”

You knew it. He was bold and idiotic enough; an adrenaline junkie the way you couldn’t be. Even cliff diving took you a good while to tackle and then longer to get used to. He taught you and kept doing so every year, because you’d enter the island with a newfound fear of heights each time.

“Uhm,” you said, raising your hands in defence, “I do not think so, dude.”

“But loo—”

“No. *No, I—”

You were so close to the edge, though probably not enough for the current to pull you in. Maybe you just hallucinated the proximity, too. Because thinking about it in hindsight, there was probably nowhere that much of a danger for you.

But you still weren’t ready to die yet.

So you ripped your eyes open further, panicking a little when he stepped into the water along with his terrible crocs. You clamoured, voice higher than ever, “What the fuck are you *doing?”

And maybe you would’ve kept your stance and ran away if he didn’t smile back at you like you were nowhere safer than with him. A reassuring grin, secure and certain.

You guess you were already hopelessly in love with him then. Not to mention that you still constantly lost yourself in the kiss you’d shared on your porch this spring. Your very *first kiss…

And you still craved more ever since. Only, Jungkook had never given you more after that.

It didn’t help when he held out a hand, remaining teasing yet sweet with a tilted, crooked smirk. His stance, firm in the water, lured you in although you definitely weren’t one to be risky like this.

But somehow, he could still convince you. Forced a frustrated sigh out of you, pulling you in like a magnetic force as you neared the river. You could see the other side not too far from you, but in your fear, the distance seemed endless.

“C’mon. We got this,” he promised, his voice drowning in the sounds of the current. “If we die, we die together.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shit, you really think you’re poetic.” You climbed over a rock, taking off your shoes, holding them in one hand as the other clutched his fingers tight from the first moment, like a reflex. “You watch too many dramas, gosh.”

He held you in a careful grip. You were smaller then, and his seventeen-year-old body, a strong result of regular gym sessions, withheld the water far better than yours. You, as opposed to him, almost dropped to your knees wading forwards.

You stepped on a somewhat sharp rock under the white waves, but he wouldn’t let you drift away. His attention remained on you. Halfway across, he said, “Here.”

He took your arm and pulled you close, slinging it around his torso, enabling a stronger grip. He was an ass and gentle friend at once — because he scared you on purpose a moment later, acting as though he was slipping.

And just when you yelped once more, watching him squint an eye at the volume, you swore at him thoroughly. You mewled words you hadn’t heard in your voice before, and he laughed, stating, “That reminds me of a school trip.”

“What,” you panted, out of breath, “goddamn school trip.”

“We went to a climbing park, and like… this girl,” he sucked in air through his mouth, tired, too; and you held your breath, “this girl from my class was literally trembling. I— I helped her over a distance until she felt secure. But…”

He groaned, struggling a bit. Or maybe he just acted like he did, you didn’t know. You were more focused than before, that was for sure.

“She was screaming just like you,” he finished.

Suddenly, you weren’t that frightened anymore.

You even forgot that you’d feared death just a moment ago. Your chest burned green.

You asked, “Right. And… and you were holding her like this, too, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Cool. Co—”

You were out of balance. One blink passed, and you tumbled, immediately digging your nails into his shirt and his skin. His hands saved you as you placed your free fingers onto a stone automatically, one shoe sliding off your fingers.

The river carried it away from you until you couldn’t see it anymore, and you furrowed your eyebrows, mouth wide as you yelled, “No!”

“Forget it, we just need to move!”

“It wasn’t me who fucking suggested this!” you snarled, gritting your teeth.

Your knees shook. You stared ahead — just a couple feet more.

“I got you,” was all he answered, “almost there.”

And when you finally were, you were still cursing, pushing his body away. Under your breath, you murmured a dozen words, and Jungkook, wiping soaked hands at his shorts, couldn’t stop chuckling.

His hair was damp, outrageous when he pushed it back, but it couldn’t distract you this time. Instead, you threw your remaining shoe at him, watching him dodge it with an amused wide grin.

You couldn’t be bothered with his jokes; he was being irritating. There was literally nothing over here. Who knew if there was a way to get off this hill from here at all.

Knees still liquid, you targeted a tree and took a seat underneath it. You caught your breath, observing him as he sniffled and picked up your shoe. You felt empathy for his shorts; he still dragged his hands over them, leaving dark, wet stains.

Then, he dropped down next to you. Nudged your shoulder and said, “Come *on. That was fun.” A beat of a pause as you moved your head to glare at him. Then, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“*You,” you started, face close to his, a finger pointing at his chest, “were almost gonna organise a funeral.”

“Please. Nothing was gonna happen to you.”

“No. Your *own.”

He laughed again. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

You exhaled. In truth, it hadn’t been that bad. Looking at the river from here, you truly were far enough from the edge, and the water had barely reached your knees. But the thing he said…

You searched for a way to make things less awkward; to not let him know that you were seething with envy. A harmless question came to mind, subtle as you inquired, “Was I at least a little braver than that… classmate?”

He lifted his head in thought, humming.

“Hmm. No.” Your shoulders slumped. How rude. “Hard to judge, though. It took us only a few minutes here, and it took her *hours to cross the climbing park.”

You didn’t tell him that sometimes, you were supposed to take hours. Not everybody was as athletic as him. Hmph.

“You helped her all this time?” you asked.

“Half of it at least.”

You shouldn’t have been jealous. Not bothered by how casual he made it sound, how he nodded… it was all whatever. But also—

“And then?” you dug. “You drove back to school and acted like you hadn’t just bonded?”

“Uhm…” Your heart dropped. Typical first love, typical first frustrating feelings. Your young heart was a lot more feeble. “Something like that.”

But you understood.

“Oh, Jeon…”

“It was just a kiss after lunch, okay. That day, and never again.”

Ah, you hated this. So he could kiss someone else, but not you aga—

No. Stop. What dumb thoughts.

“Okay. Good for you,” you told him, back to your prior tone.

Damn it.

You stared at the abandoned shoe between the two of you.

Shit, how were you gonna go back with one of your initially two Nikes on your feet? He’d have to carry you. At least you put both your socks in the one shoe you didn’t lose…

“Don’t act that way,” Jungkook spoke through your thoughts, patting your knee, “it was a lot more fun with you. She kept saying she wanted to go home and that messed with my own experience.”

“And yet, you kissed her.”

“Yeah, well. Happens.” He rolled his eyes. His voice was still casual and soft; perhaps he didn’t notice the storm in your pupils. “But I’ve had better kisses.”

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe that’s why he was saying that.

You hoped for a certain answer, but still tried, “Oh? Have you kissed more girls since spring?”

Oops. Okay, you didn’t want to ask so explicitly. But up until spring, he had never kissed anyone. And your heart fell into your ass, shoulders relaxing when he admitted, “No. Just her.”

Your eyes were wide now. You ogled at him, and then down to your drying legs again. Suppressing a smile, you nodded; and when you stared up at him anew, he was watching you intently.

Carefully, with tenderness in his gaze.

And he was close. You were half certain he’d kiss you again because for the tiniest moment, his eyes flitted down to your lips. But to your chagrin, the day and summer ended like this — mouth untouched.

He wouldn’t do more until years later.

Instead, he said, “I guess that was the last thing we still had left, right? Think I know this island inside out by now.”

“Probably,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat, swallowed. “Would be cool to explore more with you, though. Outside this place, I mean.”

But once again, you couldn’t foresee that it’d be your last summer together for a long time. That you wouldn’t meet the boy bringing you the stars until you had hurt and broken enough.

And he didn’t know either; of course he didn’t. Because soon he promised, “When we’re older and richer, I’ll take you to the mountains. Okay?”

You giggled, unaware of the future. Naive and thinking you’d never separate from him, that you were destined to stay together — as friends or whatever else fate wrote for you.

So you hit his chiselled chest just lightly, telling him, “You’re gonna make me fear heights again, Jeon.”

“Nah,” he rebutted, “I’ll show you the clouds,” he pointed to the sky you couldn’t see, hidden behind the branches and leaves, “from up close.”

“Hmm,” you voiced, “the stars aren’t enough, huh?”

“They shouldn’t be. Strive for more and stuff, right?”

Right…

For a couple seconds, you just looked at him. Nodding a little, smiling, probably lovesick with hearts floating in your eyes.

Eventually, you lifted up your body, getting to your feet with a hand against the tree. “Okay,” you finally agreed, “mountains then.”

–

The charm glimmers in the light. It flashes Jungkook a little, and he blinks, moving his gaze up to your face. You’re finishing up the remnants of your soup, bowl tilted, getting to the last drops.

But your movements are slow, and you’re quiet… and he wonders whether he stayed silent for too long, too.

He calls your name softly, meeting curious eyes. His heart immediately pounds, and he says, “I was just thinking of something.”

You smile. “Figured. I was, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You first, though.”

“Hmm.” He lets the spoon drop, looking at the empty bowl, and then suggests with folded arms, “What do you think of the mountains this year?”

You raise your eyebrows. Look at him as if you understood. As if you recognised where his mind wandered to, and where the source of this idea lies.

And then, you prove that very point when you ask, “Were you remembering the waterfall incident?”

His lips form an O, expression sickeningly sweet and surprised.

“Were you, too?”

“Just a little. Since we said we don’t want any heat this year.”

He puffs out a breath; a slight, disbelieving shake of his head follows. Then, he simply says, “Sick.”

You kiss your teeth, nodding along. “You did promise back then. Mountains, I mean.”

“I did. And we can still totally go.”

“I’d love to.”

A brief silence envelopes the room. The pause is pregnant, the air lighter than before; and then he breaks the stillness.

“Hey… you gotta admit. You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His voice harbours playfulness, but his eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity. You can’t help but chuckle; thinking back to it, your pout was hilarious. Troubles used to be different back then — your younger self wouldn’t have survived opening the door to a half naked friend. Jungkook, toned chest out, right behind her.

A crazy summer indeed.

“You kissed me that year,” you say, “and then you kissed someone else. Teenage me was going *through it.”

You scrunch your nose, and when he does it in the middle of a laugh, too, you lose your cool. Might be due to the bunny teeth flashing. The sweet crinkles around his eyes.

But you lift off the chair, hurriedly rounding the table, lean over his body and sandwich his face between your palms. You don’t waste another moment — connect your lips quickly, mouth moving against his.

He lets out a tiny sound of surprise, but doesn’t reject you. Instead, his hands wander to your waist in reciprocation, dropping to your hips and then to your—

You gasp, tongues intertwining eagerly; you taste the freshly eaten dinner. Your keen hands hold onto his dark locks. He breaks the kiss only to get to his feet, pulling you close to his body. His head tilts, the kiss deeper. Fingers cradling the nape of your neck.

And then, as he sucks in some air, he whispers, “What was that?”

“Just…” You inhale. “Catching up. Doing what I should’ve done back then.”

“She says as if I don’t kiss her *all the time.” Soft peck against your lower lip. “Or as if I wasn’t just inside her this noo—”

“You’re so obscene, Koo.”

He snickers. “Alright. Now that we know what we want to do,” his breath is warm against your skin; you shiver, “we can book the vacay a bit later, too, right?”

Breathing is hard, speaking even more.

Your lips are parted, yearning for more. You’re irritated by the layers of clothing between the two of you — which is why you’re quick to agree, “Not opposed to a break.”

“Also,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, voice tinged with anticipation, “just so you know. Our kiss *was way better than whatever I did with Jiae.”

Another soft laugh escapes your lips; the name is insignificant for you. The intoxication of the moment matters; him and you. But you still jest, “Didn’t need to connect a name to that memory.”

His chuckle matches yours, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, you know?”

And that’s all he breathes for the next hour. Genuine confessions, tender praises — your name.

So often that you soon forget any other in the world — beyond continents and oceans.

–

liked it? then let me know!! 😁 and if you haven't yet, feel free to read the full oneshot that this drabble's a "sequel" to, as well <3

#*amc #notes for rid 🌹#anon #fic: stars behind waves #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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