#I've been telling her for the past month that she needs to bring it back to the room

[d1xonss]

H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛

Sticks and Stones

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3k

AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!

The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.

The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.

Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.

Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.

For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.

You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.

You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.

You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.

Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.

But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.

“Hey!”

You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.

You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”

“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.

You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.

A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.

You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.

She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”

You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”

“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”

“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.

She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”

Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 

And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.

Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.

His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.

Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.

“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”

You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.

Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.

The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.

Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”

“Get back to the house.”

His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.

There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.

He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.

Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.

You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.

You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.

He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”

“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”

Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.

You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.

And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”

A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”

His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”

“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”

“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”

“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”

The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.

You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”

“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”

You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.

After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”

He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.

“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 

He simply shrugged, “Good.”

Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”

“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”

He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.

You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”

“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”

You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”

He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

[soulessjourney]

Sick

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 766

Summary: The moment you let out a cough in camp Astarion turns to his necormancy book for answers.

Warnings: OOC Astarion, Humor, Astarion doesn't know how to comfort sick Tav, Astarion believes Tav is dying, fluff

A/N: This one is just a tiny little humorus work that I had sitting here in my drafts, I thought the idea was cute as we apprach out spring months.

The changing of seasons was the one time you dreaded being alive. Transitioning from winter to spring meant a massive shift in temperature, often resulting in catching a cold due to the sudden change. Seated on the ground between Shadowheart and Halsin, you observed as he taught you the art of carving a small wooden duck. A few feet away, Astarion was engaged in a lively argument with Gale about who knows what, while Lae’zel tirelessly sharpened her sword against the stone wheel for the fifth time that day.

“Gently slide the dagger over this portion of the wood; the trick here is to apply pressure and scrape for a smooth outcome. Now, give it a try,” he instructed, handing the small wooden figure to Shadowheart.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you watched her work, following Halsin's guidance. Her tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth, a sign of her focused concentration. An itch filled your throat, and you cleared it a few times to relieve the sensation. A cough escaped you, catching Astarion's attention as he turned to look at you. “What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Raising a brow in confusion, you glanced at the others, only to receive shrugs in response. “What was what?” you asked, shifting on the ground. Another cough slipped past you, and Astarion quickly approached, shoving his finger in your face.

“That! You never cough, Darling. Are you dying?” A laugh sounded from Shadowheart, and Halsin shot Astarion a confused glance before looking at you. A fit of coughs overtook you, causing you to lean over in an attempt to stop them. “You are dying. Out of everything we have been through, I cannot let this be the one thing to take you out,” Astarion declared, rushing towards his tent.

Once your coughing fit ceased, you followed his movements, watching as he tore apart his tent in search of something. Shadowheart leaned over and nudged you gently. “Who's going to tell him that you simply have a cold?” she whispered, keeping her eyes focused on him. Halsin, from the other side, laughed and took the dagger and wooden duck from Shadowheart.

“I've never seen Astarion care so much. What is he looking for, anyway? If you were dying, I could've simply helped you,” Halsin remarked, shrugging. Everyone turned their attention to Halsin, nodding in agreement.

Just a few moments later, a loud ‘Ahah!’ echoed through the camp, and everyone's heads snapped towards Astarion, their eyes widening. Gale stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Now, why did you pull that out? She's not dead, Astarion. There is no need to bring out the necromancy book,” Gale said, eyeing the book in Astarion's hands as the stone placed in the center of the cover glowed brightly.

Astarion scoffed as Gale continued trying to convince him to hand over the book. “I know she’s not dead, but if by chance she does die, I can simply bring her back,” he stated, flashing Gale a confident smile before shifting his gaze to you. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I would love you even if you were undead.” Your jaw dropped open as you shot to your feet, placing your hands on your hips.

“My gods, Astarion, I’m not dying. Put the damn book down; I just have a cold,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes as you met his stare. “If I were dying, I don’t think I would be standing right now.” Shadowheart stood, sensing a shift within you. Whether it was from standing too quickly, being sick, or both, black dots filled your vision, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground. Shadowheart dove to catch you, breaking your fall.

Astarion looked between the group of your friends before flipping to a page in the book and beginning to read a spell from its contents. A chorus of “No” echoed from the group as everyone lunged to tackle Astarion, preventing him from reading any further.

Karlach walked up to the camp, a deer hanging over her shoulder, observing her groupmates tackling Astarion, Gale prying the book away from him, and you lying on the ground a few feet away from everyone. Dropping the deer to the ground beside her, she caught the group’s attention. “What in the nine hells is going on?” she shouted, her eyes staying trained on you. “Well, don’t stand there; bring her back!”

The group groaned as they scrambled to keep Astarion from grabbing the book again. “She’s not dead!” they simultaneously yelled, the sound of their voices bouncing off the rocks around them.

#dnd elves #high elves #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #bg3 fic #astarion drabble #astarion fic #bg3 tav #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #karlach #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet. 

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses. 

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

[mymelx]

Ghost coming home from a long mission only to find out that his wife has been abused in his absence

TW: mentions of SA (reader is the victim), vomiting, please tell me if I'v missed anything

「No usage of y/n, not proofread cause I need to sleep 🥹」

He's fucking exhausted, desperate to hold his little lovely wife in his strong arms, to nuzzle into her neck, to take her scent in, and to fuck her tight little pretty cunt after 2 months of mission.

He hurriedly opens the door, not even thinking that he can simply knock. He's this desperate and dumb right now.

It's strange. Even though it's correct that the house is always dark at midnight since you're asleep, this time, it feels different. He senses something wrong. He throws his equipment on the floor and rushes to your shared bedroom, only to find it empty. His head is spinning. He misses you. He has endured the fucking mission only to be back to his soft, precious wife. Where the fuck was she now? Did something happen to her? Did she leave him?

He hears familiar whimpers from the bathroom, which he follows.

There you are. In your short, white sleep dress, looking up to see your husband, who's still wearing his soldier uniform and his skull balaclava.

Before you can react, you feel another rumble in your chest that leads to vomiting.

You've been vomiting into the toilet for the past few minutes.

You've lost weight. He notices. You're trembling, looking helpless and vulnerable.

He rushes to you the second he sees you vomiting, and you try to crawl back from him.

From who? From him?

He can't believe his fucking eyes. He doesn't come closer since he doesn't want to scare you. He thinks maybe you've had a nightmare that made you vomit, now you're sleepy, and you can't recognize your husband of 4 years.

"Love? It's me. Simon. I'm back." He says softly.

You pant, scared, crawling back, standing up and stepping back.

"Don't fucking come closer to me!" You say with a weak, trembling voice.

"Doll? What happened? It's me, Simon. Did you have a nightmare?" He speaks softly with a worried voice.

"Shut up! Get away from me! Try touching me again, and I'll kill you!"

Touching? Again?

He freezes. "Who touched you? Dolly, it's me. Your husband."

You're not listening, trying to find something to attack him with.

He's talking to you, asking you what has happened, and your mind is occupied with the potential weapons you can use against him.

You grab a bar of soap and throw it at him. He obviously doesn't even flinch. He's a tall, muscular man. What can a bar of soap do to him?

He watches you in shock and worry. He walks to you, trapping you in a corner, receiving your harmless, scared punches.

He holds your wrists. "I'm so sorry, doll. I had to stop you somehow to talk to you. What happened? Don't you know me?"

You recognize him now. It's his eyes. His eyes always speak to you. It's your husband, your safe person, your everything.

You pant, staring at him. Your vision gets blurry with tears stinging your pretty eyes. You feel guilty for what you did to your husband, who's back from a mission.

"Now you know me, love? It's me. Talk to me. What happened? You know I'd kill for you. Tell me everything." He says softly.

You burst into tears and hug him tightly, crying loudly and hiding your face in his broad chest.

He's so worried, but he tries to remain calm so that you can lean on him.

After minutes of you crying and him gently asking you "what happened? Tell me? Dolly? Honey? Baby, please tell me what happened I'll kill anyone who's hurt you."

You finally calm down, still leaning on him. You want to talk, but you've vomited and cried so much that you have no energy.

He gently picks you up with you straddling him with your trembling legs. He first brings you to the kitchen, pouring water for you with one hand while holding you up with another, taking his balaclava off to kiss your temples and your hair every three seconds.

Then he brings you to the bed, carefully placing you and covering you with blankets.

"Can you tell me what happened, doll?"

You're still trembling, ashamed, tired, confused, and angry. He leans down and hugs you.

"I... when you were gone... something happened. 3 weeks ago, someone knocked on our door, and I thought it was you. I fucking thought it was you. I was so damn stupid!"

Your crying starts again. You feel so much pressure on your heart. He's so worried now that you told him those sentences. He caresses you, forcing himself not to rush you just so that he can quickly find out about who has hurt you and shoot them in their head after beating them to death.

"Shsh.. love. Tell me the rest, baby."

"I opened the door, and he... then, he pushed me, and I... I, I fell on the ground."

You try hard to talk between your cries:

"He then tried to rip my clothes. He was so heavy that I couldn't push him away."

Ghost is fisting his hand so hard that his knuckles are white, his eyes are wide open, he's full of rage, and he's going crazy.

You don't continue, needing a moment to breath.

He leans down, caressing your hair, trying his best not to beg you to continue, and just giving you time.

You tell him the man wanted to r you, but you screamed so much that the neighbors kicked into the house. The man was arrested, but you still have nightmares, and you tremble a lot.

"I really wished you were by my side." You say so innocently, while crying.

He's so mad. He has so much rage now.

"What's his name?"

"Si,-"

He holds your chin gently, asking with the rage and the harsh voice that he can't hide anymore: "What's his name, doll?"

You sleep that night in his embrace, clinging on him, and telling him how much you love and need him. How much he's safe to you. How much you only want to stay in his arms.

He constantly kisses your hair and caresses your face, apologizing to you for not having been there where you needed his protection.

Weeks pass by, and he doesn't go to another mission. He's by your side all the time, and he's now more protective and a bit controlling of you. Not that you want him to leave you for even a second, at least for a while.

He finds a way to kill the man who assaulted you, and he does it. He doesn't tell you about it, and you find out about it later when he thought you wouldn't tremble and vomit at the memory again.

•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•

◇ it's midnight, and I'm writing this shit 💀 wanted to sleep, but I had the idea of coming back from a long mission that i had to write, and it turned this way...

#ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #husband ghost #call of duty

[sl-ut]

streamer!ellie hcs

been thinking about gamer!ellie williams x fem!reader a little too much lately so here are some random ass hcs

she's a pretty big streamer on twitch, plays a lot of different games but she particularly likes rpgs bc she thinks they're the most fun kinds of streams to watch

she plays gta online (on nopixel ofc) A LOT

her rp character is definitely like a druglord or something lol

speaking of, total stoner

she usually smokes right before her streams to help her settle down (she gets kinda nervous before her streams)

she's up front about her drug use (just weed don't worry) w her fans, but definitely doesn't wanna smoke on stream bc she knows there are younger viewers watching

she streams at night, probably around 8:30-9pm AT THE EARLIEST

has a boss set up. she has an extra room in her apartment for streaming, has lots of fun little figurines and posters of her fav games/movies/artists, led lights (always set to either blue or red), and custom display, keyboard, and headset

off-topic, but she'd also an astrophysics major and is on the DEANS LIST??? our girl is so casually smart and doesn't even try that hard like

she's such a nerd, always been a big star wars, harry potter, and lotr fan since she was a kid

she casually drops the gf bomb on stream one day and the internet just about blows up

lesbian twitter died a little that day

she's kinda secretive about it tho, didn't even really mean to mention her gf (she hadn't even asked her to be her gf yet and she already publicly announced that she was off the market)

for plot purposes, i've always really liked the idea that y/n is also a public figure? maybe she's a small actor/singer or an influencer or something

y/n texted her during the stream saying "u got something u wanna ask me???"

ellie was trying so hard to not turn red and end the stream

a few days later, everyone's fav lowkey singer/actor/influencer happens to soft launch her new gf (everyone was a little sus but no one really assumed that it was ellie bc why would it be??? they've literally never interacted on the internet before?)

except what they don't know is that ellie had been really high one night and decided to shoot her shot, sending a risky dm on insta and almost pissing herself when she saw that she had actually responded

begins talking about the relationship more on stream

doesn't reveal who her gf is for a while tho, but when she gets a text from y/n asking for her help for a sec she'll just tell her chat that she'll be back bc she needs to "go help the missus"

such a loser fr

finally hard launches on y/n's bday, posting a photodump from the past few months that they've been together

lesbian twitter died again

two of the hottest internet gays off the market? oh no

but everyone really loves it

ellie likes when she brings her snacks or a drink during the stream, inviting her to sit on her lap and chat for a bit while they're waiting to join a server or something

she bought an additional gaming laptop so y/n could stream with her sometimes

ellie does random super loser stuff when this happens, like if they're playing gta she's taking her on a long car ride around the city bc she's roleplaying as y/n's sugar daddy

loves using her platform to hype up her gf's work

always reposting new songs or casting announcements that her gf is involved in, and loves being her date to big press events

omg i might have to make a little modern!ellie fic bc i love this smmmm

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie smut

[readychilledwine]

Hi, could you write Tamlin absolutely ruining the reader. What I mean is.... reader and tam are in a relationship, he's been busy with work and reader thinks he doesn't like her anymore so tamlin shows her just how wrong she is...😏

A Hint of Corruption

Warnings - pet/own/master power play dynamics, brief rough oral, punishment play, mention of corruption, bratty behavior, reader really REALLY like fucking angry Tamlin.

"If you don't fucking have time for me anymore, just tell me." Tamlin looked at you in shock from his throne. You felt your chest tightening, eyes beginning to water as he just stared at you processing your anger.

He had not touched you in weeks. He hasn't kissed you in days. He spent hours holed up in his repaired office with other high Lords negotiating trade routes and imports. And when he wasn't there, he was in other courts doing the same thing.

"What, little dove, do you mean by that?" He stepped closer to you, setting that damned crown of antlers and thorns on the throne.

You didn't back down, staring up at him. "It's clear I've over stayed my welcome and you are tired of my presence," a dramatic statement fueled by your anger. "I have clearly served my purpose and you are done with me. So just tell me that instead of leaving me here alone constantly."

Tamlin's face fell into a further look of shock. He had told you what he was doing, that these next few months would be insane and likely lonely for both of you as he worked to reset the glory Spring once had.

Glory you were helping him bring back with your Mother blessed gifts to repair land and grow damn near anything. "Dove," he hand came to your cheek, stroking softly, "y/n, I warned you I would be busy and gone a lot this month. I have been trying to come home to you every night-"

"And yet I go to bed and wake up alone-"

He interrupted you, his pet peeve causing anger to hit him. "I was not done speaking, dove. Do we need a lesson on manners and the behavior of a Lady again?" He began backing you to the wall. "Do you need a reminder of who you belong to? Of who cares for you and this beautiful body?"

Your back hit the window, hands going flat against the glass as the throne room doors slammed shut and locked. "Tamlin-"

Green eyes flickered to yours, a mix of arousal and annoyance shining in them. "I believe you are fully aware we are past first names at this point, pet. Get on your knees."

Submission fueled your brain as he pushed down on your shoulders, gathering your hair before putting into the leather he had around his wrist. "Open your mouth," your hands were on his pant ties already focused on that task until a slap came.

You gasped loudly, eyes watering. It wasn't hard, but it still stung, and you looked up at him.

He had not had to slap you for disobedience in years. Not since he had met you, and this began. You were his good girl. His pretty little pet he constantly praised. Your lip trembled as tears fell. "Don't give me that look. Open your fucking mouth."

You sniffled, doing as you were told and waited. "There she is," two fingers gently brushed your tongue, pushing in and coating themselves in your spit. "You're going to suck my cock while I explain to you, again, what is currently happening in my court and why master is gone so much lately."

You didn't nod, eyes still watering. "You want to be my good girl. Don't you?" Tamlin pushed those two fingers into your mouth and down your throat. "Look at me." Your eyes fluttered up, breathing through your nose as he pushed further, causing you to gag. "I can't wait to fucking ruin you."

You whined around them, sucking greedily now. "No, pet, you have to listen first. You broke a rule, you have to be punished. You understand, don't you?"

Your eyes had glazed over, so focused on sucking his fingers that all you could do was nod. "That's my good girl." Tamlin untied his pants, pulling this cock out and smiled as you moaned at the sight. He had ruined you so beautifully already, but you had been so innocent, so untouched by anything when he found you that every chance to fuck you stupid was new and exciting.

He removed his fingers, using the saliva to pump his heavy cock while you watched. Your tongue was out, waiting for him to give you what you wanted, waiting for him to force you to listen. He placed the head on your tongue and nodded, giving you permission to pleasure him.

"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me," he held you down, nose flush against his pelvis, watching as you swallowed and sucked his length. "I have been working tirelessly every damn day to be home to you every night. That means there's going to be a lot of mornings alone since I am constantly winnowing the lands to keep you and your slutty little mouth and cunt happy."

He moaned as he pulled up, watching you take a deep breath, then he slammed back in, laughing as you gagged around him. "I am not tired of you. I am not done with you. I am not planning to just toss you aside, pet. I am busy. You like your pretty dresses and jewelry, don't you? Like having a staff to pamper and wait on you? How do you think your High Lord gets you those things? Do you think they're just here and free to you since you're so damn pretty?"

He began fucking your mouth, focusing on that for awhile before abruptly pulling you off of him and ripping you up by your hair.

You moaned, walking at his pace until he threw you over the arm of the throne and held you down with a growl that warned you not to move.

A loud rip filled the room, followed by a chilly spring breeze leaving goosebumps along your body. "Such a beautiful girl," you could hear his smile as you heard his clothing hit the floor and felt a hand go to your folds. Tsmlin groaned at the wetness he found there, the sweet essence coating his hand and practically pouring out of you. He patted your clit softly, watched as you wiggled and moaned his name.

Gods, he loved you. Every inch of you. Every dip and soft curve of your body. Every laugh. Every noise you made.

How could you ever think he'd grown tired of you?

Tamlin took his now coated hand, running it along the shaft of himself as he ran the head through your folds then sat. "Beg. Beg like the good little whore you are. Beg for my forgiveness and for my cock."

"Master please," a good start. "Gods, please I am so sorry. I'll be a good pet. I'll listen and wait at home. Please just fuck me. I need you inside me, please. It's been so long."

He hummed, hand running your spine and tangling into your hair. "It has been too long, my love. Much too long. I should rectify that." He entered you in one swift thrust. The throne began digging into your hips, brushing them as he wasted no time pounding into you.

He ripped you up by your hair again, forcing your back to arch like a bow for him as he pulled the cord that was your pleasure taunt. "I love you, you spoilt little pet. You fucking know this but come in here to yell at me?" His words matched the harshness of his cock working inside of you. You could help the wetness beginning to pool more and more at each word. "I got help to be worthy of you. Signed trade deals with courts I didn't want to be able to spoil and care for you. I get one full day home this week to get ready for a High Lords' meeting, and you want to come in here running your mouth?"

He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside of you. You felt your body going pliant, and his arms moved to hold you up by your elbows, pulling you back slightly. "Tell me you're sorry and let you cum. I can tell you are right there. I can stop right fucking now."

"No!" You felt yourself crying again. The pleasure becoming too much. "I'm sorry I was so ungrateful. I'll be good. Gods, please, my mate, my High Lord, please."

Tamlin didn't stop, speed increasing as each drag stretched your now tightening walls forcing them open and swallowing his cock whole. "Cum. Scream my name for his whole court to know who owns you."

You obeyed. Your mind, soul, heart, and body were his. You were his. He had ensured that the second he started bedding you, ruining you for anyone who may wish to touch you, and he'd continue to ruin you.

He came inside of you, holding you down by your neck again and forcing you into submission as you milked him. "Do not ever come into my throne room acting like that again. I was nice, y/n. I won't be nice next time."

You smiled, looking back at him, and risked it all. "You're so easy to manipulate, Tam. I got the sex I needed just by being a brat for 5 minutes. I can't wait until you see what else I've done."

His face fell, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "You won't be leaving our bedroom tomorrow, will you pet?"

You felt him pull out, smiling as he turned you and picked you up. "Nope," you popped the last syllable before kissing his cheek.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #pro tamlin #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x reader #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar #tamlin

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

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[everythingne]

wing damage - mv1 [2]

Max spends the weekend with you to hopefully lift your spirits. A night out leads to a bit more than both of them are expecting as feelings easily resurface and are created with the assistance of being blackout drunk.

max verstappen x influencer!horner!reader

fc: sophia la corte

warnings/notes: implied blackout drunk sex (towards the middle), very suggestive scene (towards the middle), drinking in general, allusions to coping via alcohol, max and nadine made bad decisions (also a reminder the readers nickname is nadine and is used as placeholder for y/n!) also not me coming back over a MONTH later with part two <3 i hope these feeds u

(part one)

It takes two rings for Max to answer my call.

I feel a little desperate when I ask if he can swing by my apartment, knowing he wasn't quite back in Monaco yet. He says he's stopping by the store, voice muffled by the wind, and that he'll be over in thirty or so minutes. The apartment is too quiet and I take the time it takes for him to get here to clean up my mess from the past few days of rotting in the suffocating silence of my apartment.

Without Jacob I felt weird. Lost. Like there should be something there, but I'm met with quiet. But, I guess that's what happens when the person you've lived with for years is suddenly dead to you.

The loneliness I had expected has arrived, even with two roommates. I've isolated myself far away from them.

Max knocking on the door brings me out of my thoughts and I grab the door handle moments later, swinging it open nervously as greeting him as cherrily as I can.

Being immediately brought into a hug by Max lets me know I didn't do a good job.

"C'mon. Pop open this wine, throw on Legally Blonde." He hands me a bottle and grins at me, squeezing my wrist before bringing inside a pack of sodas in one hand and a blanket and bag of snacks in his other hand.

“For you," Max holds out the blanket with one hand, "I was on the phone with your dad when you asked if I could swing by, so I asked Geri for her best post-breakup gift and she made me go buy… everything that’s in this bag plus the blanket—minus the drinks."

I find myself laughing out a thank you, taking the world’s softest blanket into my hands and promptly smacking my face into it.

“God, my mom is a saint.” I mutter into the fabric, before throwing it over my shoulders and bringing him inside. Max kicks off his shoes at the door, tucking them next to my heels from going out to party the past few nights.

"Looks like you've been having fun." He chimes and I shrug, sitting at my kitchen island and leaning on the counter. Max pauses when he notes me not leaning into his playful attitude and a small pout forms at his lips.

“I have the dough for pasta out to thaw,” I say over my shoulder to him as he follows and sits next to me—laying the bag of treats and the sodas on the counter. He just nods in response and we lapse into silence as he looks at me and tries to figure out how to approach this. When we'd been in the paddock, he'd be so angry I was surprised his head didn't burst into flames, but now that it was just us in a much more subdued moment, I could tell big bad Mad Max Verstappen didn't know what to do.

“Hey,” he says after a few moments, leaning over to squeeze my knee in a motion so similar to my father I wondered if he picked it up from him. I hum in response and Max's eyes flicker around the room before settling on me.

“Uhm. Jacob was a jackass. He shouldn’t have done that to you, and he…he’s a dick. I’m not very good at comforting people but if you ever need to just…vent or let off steam. Yeah. I’m here.” he folds his hands into his lap, partially leaning towards me.

I can’t help the little smile that breaks across my lips and I nod, “yeah…thank you, Max.”

"Now come on," He grabs me by the waist and hoists me up, resulting in a high-pitched laugh to echo from my throat. He grabs the blanket and throws it over me once again, before he snags the bag of treats and moves to the couch. He sets me down gently, which I'm thankful for, before he throws himself down next to me and grabs the remote.

"Are we watching the first or second Legally Blonde?" He asks, letting me rest my head on his chest as I toss the blanket over us both.

"The first." I hum, "Not feeling very Elle Woods patriotic today."

"We can watch that tomorrow." Max hums and I look at him briefly. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, shifting so he can pull me to his chest as he says, "What? You think I'm just gonna leave you alone while both of your roommates are out this weekend? Nah, you're stuck with me."

I laugh softly, finding a blush forming on my cheeks and I snuggle in as close as physically possible, "I don't mind being stuck with you at all."

thenadinehorner made a new post!

Around midnight Max and I make the pasta, because my apartment is too cold for the dough to thaw, I end up ditching the completely homemade idea and just use pre packaged noodles. We've decimated the first wine glass, and thats when I find my courage to ask,

"Do you wanna go out tomorrow?"

Max turns to look at me out of the corner of his eye, stirring the pasta into the mix of lemon, alfredo, and cilantro in the pan and he narrows his eyes, "How much have you been drinking this week?"

"I just broke off a several year relationship, Max." I sigh, "Come on, tell me you don't wanna go party!”

"Didn't answer my question." Max turns to me, looking over with a tiny grin and I groan, moving to press my chin to his shoulder and blink up at him in my wine haze.

"Past seven nights? Four days, including tonight. But come on, I've never seen you party in person!" I take another sip of my wine and he laughs softly, lifting to plate out the pasta for the both of us.

"Fine, but don't tell you father I'm taking you out. He'd probably kill me with his bare hands for even letting you drink alcohol with me." Max laughs softly and I laugh as well, happily taking the plate of pasta from his hands.

"Oh come on, he practically treats you like a son." I slurp up some of the pasta and groan, rolling my eyes back at the taste. Max watches me and I notice his smile wobble as he turns his head away, choking out a laugh.

"Yeah, but you're his daughter, that's like... a line." He hums, holding a hand over his mouth as he speaks with food in his mouth, and I narrow my eyes at him. I shrug, swallowing some of my wine and walking back over to the couch as I glance at Max over my shoulder,

"I'd cross it." I say. Though, I don't know what I mean when I say it, or how far I would cross that line. But it riles Max up enough for me to choke on the pasta and sputter out a reply,

"No, no," I wave a hand, "I mean, like I'll cross the line and go to the club."

"Oh, good—Okay, Christ." Max laughs, sitting down next to me and taking a good sized bite of his pasta. We leave the other bottle of wine for another day. Maybe to pregame tomorrow.

nadi.h.jpg made a new post! (private!)

liked by blubellhals, oliviahorner, danielricciardo, and 204 others...

nadi.h.jpg: IM SO DRUNK!!!

tagged: maxverstappen

danielricciardo: OH GOD.

landonorris: u ok hon?

bluebellhals: NADINE HORNER. (u look sexy but CALL ME GIRLIE?)

oliviahorner: OH MY GODDDD AHAHAHAH MAX CHUGGING THE FUCKING BOTTLE IMC RYINGGG

charlesleclerc: oh my god???

carlossainz: OH?? estas borracha ??!!

"Nadi!" Max laughs, dragging me by the elbow down the nearly empty London roads. I giggle and cling to his arm before he scoops me up, considering I'd given him my heels long ago to carry.

"Max!" I giggle back, pressing my cheek to the side of his head as he situates me in a hold against his chest. He laughs and half presses me to the wall so he can fiddle with the keys to my apartment building, and then when he gets it, he lifts me so I'm over his shoulder.

"How are you doing this blackout drunk?" I slur and giggle, kicking my legs in my short dress as one of his hands comes to cover my rear from poking out. He takes a few tries to hit the right floor on the elevator as he sways,

"I'm so fucking drunk I have no idea." He laughs back, his hand absentmindedly squeezing me a bit when I slip and I let out a little gasp that makes him chuckle, "Ay, don't get any ideas alright? Just making sure you don't fall and die."

"Aw, you care." I laugh as the elevator dings and he brings me out and to my room. When we get there he sets me down and helps me out of my jacket before I do the same to him, my scattered mind letting my hands linger a bit too long on his sides.

"We're already gonna be hungover when we wake up," I hum, trailing my fingers along his ribs, since I can feel them on his sides through his shirt, "We can have more wine, right?"

"You don't need more," Max laughs, resting his hands on my hips, "I don't either, I'll end up vomiting."

"Ew!" I giggle, leaning into him for support in the tiny hall. His hand rests on the entry table to balance himself as he wraps his arm tighter around me, I blink up at him and watch the way his eyes flicker around my skin. His eyes lower to my lips and I feel my breath hitch, I step closer until theres no more space and look through my lashes before tilting up and grinning at him with a drunken giggle.

"Like what you see, Maxie?" I hum, sliding my hands up his sides until wrapping them around his back, nails slightly scratching through the thin white shirt as I tilt my head at him in tease.

"Oh, don't do this to me." He groans, eyes rolling and shutting tight as he lets out a breathy sigh, "Don't do this to me, Nadi."

"Do what?" I question with genuine concern, watching as he opens his eyes and his grip tightens partially. He's in my space, nose almost touching mine, but he's not invading me. Infact, I'd let him stay here forever.

"You know you are a line I can't cross." He murmurs, lips ghosting mine and I want to connect us so bad but when I tilt forward he pulls back and groans in the back of his throat. I hate the way it makes a flame ignite in my stomach. I'd never seen Max like this, but yet in the past four years I'd been infatuated with the guy who broke my heart.

"I don't want you to do this and regret it." He whispers, "Because I've loved you for a very long time, and if you let me do this, it won't be good for either of us. And we're drunk as shit, so I'm not thinking straight and I doubt you are too."

"You're a very coherent drunk." I hum and Max snorts, watching me sway in place as the world swirls around me.

"Thanks, it's the trauma." He says and I laugh, pitching into him hard enough he stumbles. Pushing me the other way so I don't fall, he catches me against the entry way table, his hands on either one of my hips and holding me tight to make sure I stay put.

Was he always this attractive, or was I just stupid drunk?

"Y/n." Max whispers out a whine of my birth name, all it does it make my breath hitch and my heart thrum as he brings a hand to my throat and feels my pulse under his thumb. I close my eyes, rolling them as he pulls me in with that hand, ghosting his lips along the edge of my jaw.

I find enough courage to whisper, "But what if I said yes, hm? I don't have a problem with doing this with you."

"Do you know how many times I've imagine this exact moment?" He growls against the skin of my neck, teeth nipping at the skin with each word he breathes out heavily against my perfume covered skin. I bring a hand to the back of his head, bump his teeth into the skin, and to my delight he bites.

"Fuck." I whisper, "we can't."

"Oh, but you just said we could," Max lifts his head from my neck, eyes meeting mine, his hand dips and I flutter at the feeling of him tracing a tiny shape into the inside of my thigh. He indents it with his nail, leaving a crescent as he whispers, "didn't you, sweetheart?"

As he accentuates his words with a soft kiss to soothe the bite, his fingers skim the edge of my skirt and tug to lift it up a bit higher. I bite my lip and he uses a thumb to my chin to pull it back out, capturing me in a slow kiss as his hands drop back down to my thighs to pick me up, setting me on the entry table.

He kneels, looking up at me with those big eyes and he asks permission, and my hands find his hair as I nod and that stupid cocky grin splits across his lips and makes my heart tumble into his hands.

Thank god my roommates are gone.

I wake up with a splitting headache and a bout of nausea that makes me almost lose it over the side of my bed. I don't remember much past leaving the club when I'd started to get super drunk and force myself to sit up to check the time.

And then I realize I am very much not wearing clothes.

"Oh fuck." I hiss, turning to look around my empty room. Well, save for the familiar blonde man shaped lump next to me in bed.

Wait a fucking second.

"Oh my god!" I shout without thinking and the mass stirs, a soft mess of English and Dutch seeping from his lips. He pushes himself to his forearms and looks over, blinking before his face drops into the same horror I'd just gone through.

"Oh fuck." Is all he can manage, then there's a soft banging on my door and my step-mother's voice echoes through the apartment and Max brings a hand to his mouth as he groans, "Oh, I'm so dead."

"We both are! Get up!" I hiss under my breath, scrambling to get out of bed and curb my nausea as I grab the first big knit sweater and leggings in my hamper and throw them on while Max roots through his suitcase to find something to wear. I dip into the bathroom and throw my hair up to mostly hide its mess, luckily the sweater covers most marks left on my skin. When Max comes in I grab his face and squint at him through my hangover.

"If anyone asks, you slept on the couch, and I let you use my bathroom to get ready because the warm water isn't working in the guest bathroom." I hiss out and Max nods, a blush on his face as I slam the door shut and call out to my step-mom that I'm coming to answer. Making my way into the foyer, I scoop up the discarded clothing and astray items, tucking them into a bin by the door and quickly doing a once over of the main room of my apartment.

I needed to light a candle.

I unlock the door and pop it open, rubbing at my head and Geri chuckles at my clearly hungover state as she asks, "Bad time?"

"I'm so hungover I might throw up." I say and she nods, giggling as she continues with a slightly curious look in her eyes. I know she's trying to figure it out.

"You don't exactly sleep in until four in the afternoon for fun." She hands me a bag, "Max is still here I assume, he left these. Just stopping by to give them back."

"He's showering, yeah. Geri, if I saw you were coming I would've grabbed them so you didn't have to come up here." I laugh, taking the bag. When the collar of my sweater shifts, Geri's eyes flick down and she raises her eyebrows at me and it's that moment I know she's caught me.

"Don't say a word." I point and she raises her hands with a shocked laugh, nodding to me.

"I don't even want to know who gave it to you," She says looking away with red on her cheeks and a loud laugh, "I'm just gonna go, because if I'm here any longer your father might get impatient. Also you are an adult, and it’s none of my business!”

"Thanks, Ger." I run a hand through my bangs to smooth as best I can and Geri nods, flicking her eyes across my body with her new knowledge and stifling a laugh into the back of her hand. Part of me wants to reach over and whack her, but I refrain from letting my embarrassment get the best of me. She gives me a tight hug, wishes me well, and starts to walk away. Before I can shut the door, she calls my name over her shoulder and I poke my head out to see her standing in the elevator doors as she shouts,

"Tell Max to be a bit softer next time!"

And my response is a slam of my apartment door and a loud groan into the wooden material it's made of. I step back and turn to see Max poke his head out of the doorway of my bedroom.

"Just Geri, this is yours." I say, walking over to him and setting the bag into his hands, "and..."

"I'm sorry." He sighs, running a hand through the front of his now wet hair. I try to ignore how much I want to do the same thing. I swallow it down and bury it as far as I can. He's twenty seven, not much older but enough for my father to raise an eyebrow. I was only twenty two, barely so.

"I'm just as much at fault, it takes two to tango, y'know." I hum and he huffs out a laugh, and despite myself I say, "if it makes you feel better, even if it was a stupid decision... I don't entirely regret it. Even if I don't remember it that much."

"I don't remember much either." He agrees, "can we just agree to not... ever, talk about this happening again?"

"Happily." I nod as I feel a weird sort of relief and embarrassment rush across my skin. I would happily pretend this had never happened. But when my eyes meet his, theres something within their depths that tells me this wouldn't be a one time hookup. Call me crazy, or horny, or whatever you want, but there was something that has shifted. Something new was settled between us, and Max and I would never be the same.

But we painfully would pretend to be. To save face.

taglist (thank u for ur support <3!)

@rosegasly @uuzhanggggggg @biitch-with-wifi @1655clean @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

[libraryofloveletters]

Portugal Pretenders

Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fake dating, the boys love to tease virg, past players make an appearance, takes place at robbo's wedding (I just made up random dates, forgive me if it's not accurate lmao), begging for a favour, wedding softness, some teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a few awkward moments, julia and thiago are their biggest fans, some nsfw humour, virg doesn't know how to use an iron, some childishness at the end, all around sweetness.

Word Count: 7.9k

Author's Note: okay, I've come back to bring you all a new virg fic, since you've been living in my inbox, asking for it. hopefully you like it as much as I do.

---

"And this one's for you," Andy says, passing the light green envelope over to Virgil, catching his friend on his way out. "You've got a plus one, make sure you bring that girlfriend of yours you're always talking about."

Virgil nods, a smile on his face as he takes the invite from Andy. The panic fills his head, slowly moving down to his chest as he walks out of the training centre.

Andy's wedding was coming up in a few weeks. The boys have known about it for months, and as much as Andy insisted to Rachel that they don't need actual invites, she still sent them with her husband to be.

The defender finds himself driving home, thinking about how on earth he was going to find someone to join him at this wedding.

See, the thing was, the boys thought he was seeing something. That wasn't a total lie, as he was seeing someone but it ended as quickly as it started. He wasn't sure how to tell his friends that it was over and it spiralled, coming up with random details to tell them every time they asked about this non-existent girlfriend.

He didn't think Andy would go as far as giving him a plus one.

Virgil pulls into the driveway, opening the envelope as he reads the invite.

Celebrating the marriage of Andy Robertson and Rachel Roberts.

Rehearsal Dinner: July 2nd, 2022 at 7pm

Wedding Ceremony: July 3rd, 2022 at 3pm - Evening Reception to follow.

Join us in Faro, Portugal!

The rest of the details were on the back of the card, the invite was white with green accents to match the envelope. Must be their theme, he thinks, making a mental note to see if he has anything green to match.

He gets out of the car, putting the envelope in his pocket when he sees his neighbour, y/n, pulling into her driveway. He waves to her, the woman smiles at him as she pops her trunk open, a million bags waiting to be taken into the house.

"Need some help?" He offers, crossing the lawn to her driveway.

You smile, nodding. "Sure. Thank you, Virgil."

Virgil starts taking the bags out of the trunk, carrying them over to the front door as you unlock it. "I'm surprised you're home so early." He says.

"Keeping tabs on me?"

"No," he shakes his head, cheeks red. "I meant.. I usually see you come in late."

"Closed the clinic early today, we've got a staff party tomorrow, hence.." You gestured to the bags. Virgil nods, helping her carry them into her kitchen.

The two of you were on friendly terms, Virgil often helped you out around the house if you were busy. Despite being a footballer, he tended to take care of the yard work and you stopped by to make sure were in order at his place if he was away for a match or pre season training.

"How about a cup of tea?" You offered and he smiled, "you sure? I don't want to be a bother."

"Not a bother at all, make yourself at home. It's the least I could do to thank you for your help."

"It wasn't much help, I only carried the bags to the kitchen." He chuckles, sitting on a stool by the counter.

You shrugged, "still. It would have taken me like, 12 trips to get all of them, you used your big footballer muscles and did it in one."

Virgil smiles, watching as you filled the kettle with water and took two mugs out of the cupboard across from him; one with little flowers along the rim of it and the other a red mug Liverpool logo on the front.

"Surprised you have that," he says, you drop the teabags into the mug. "What? This?" You nodded to the red mug. "It'd just be wrong not to support the local team." You two laughed, you referred to Liverpool as if it was a rec league team.

You two are there in silence, you leaned on the counter as you stood across from the footballer. The man looked around while you looked at him, counting to yourself quietly. Once Virgil hears your whispers, he looks over at you with furrowed brows.

"What are you counting?"

"Your wrinkles," you say nonchalantly, pointing to his forehead as you count each one. Virgil rolls his eyes playfully, swatting your hand away. "You okay?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"You sure? I mean, you usually can't see the wrinkles on that big forehead on yours. So unless you've aged drastically since I've last seen you, I'd say you're worried about something."

"Is that your official diagnosis, Dr. L/n?"

"Yup," you nodded, smiling at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. "100%, now tell me, what's on your mind?"

"Well," he sighs as he starts. "I was invited to a wedding today."

"And? Is it for an ex or some cousin you hate?"

"No, nothing like that. It's actually Andy, you know, Robbo?"

You nodded, shutting the stove off when the kettle begans whistling. "He finally put a ring on Rachel? Good for them, tell them congratulations for me."

Virgil smiles, "I will."

"Wait, so if it's for Andy, what's the problem? I thought you two were good friends."

Virgil makes a face, wondering if he should really tell you what's bothering him. "We are, I uh.. I need a date for a wedding."

You laughed, "that's what's worrying you? C'mon Virgil, you're a footballer. You're handsome, you're young..ish- regardless, it shouldn't be too hard for you to get a date."

He rolls his eyes at your comment, "yeah well, easier said than done. Especially since I've - never mind."

"Oh no," you turn to face him after pouring the water into the mugs. "You're not going to leave me hanging like that! What, since you've..?

"Since I've been telling the guys I have a girlfriend. That's why Andy gave me a plus one, I really thought he wouldn't do that."

Your brows furrowed, you were beyond confused now. "Okay, you've officially lost me. You're nervous to ask her to be your date? Or - oh my god! Is she a married woman, Virgil?!"

"No!" He laughed, shaking his head at your outrageous suggestion. "I'd never date a married woman, in fact, I'm not dating anyone."

You were getting the milk from the fridge when what he said finally processed. You turn to face the man, "so wait, let me see if I got this right. You've been telling them you're seeing someone but you're not actually seeing anyone?" You say, looking for some clarification. Virgil nods, avoiding your gaze.

"Why would you lie to them?"

"I really didn't mean too! It wasn't a lie in the beginning. I was seeing this girl, she was cool but we didn't want the same things so it just sort of.. ended? They kept asking and I don't know why I didn't want to tell them the truth but I wasn't sure what to say so I played along and now, well, you know where I've ended up."

You sigh, unsure what to tell him. You didn't even think there was advice to help someone who's gotten themselves into such a position.

"That's a messed up thing you're in, dude." You added the milk to his mug, handing him the one with the flowers. Virgil nods, stirring the spoon in the mug.

"Do you have sugar?"

"Mhm hm," you turned, reaching up into the cupboard to get the sugar from the middle shelf.

Virgil watched, admiring you; not only on a surface level but deeper than that. He likes spending time with you, even if it was something as simple as a chat across the lawn. You were beautiful and kind, funny and smart, your humour was witty and you were charming. You could talk yourself out of a crime if need be - you were exactly who he was looking for.

Seems his lies have sent him in your direction; imagine if he hadn't helped you take your bags in today.

You turned to him with the sugar, you could feel him staring at you but he was sitting there, elbow on the counter with his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he smiled at you.

"What?"

"Will you be my date to the wedding?" He asks and you laugh, taking the top off the sugar jar.

"You're not serious."

"I am, what are you doing in 3 weeks?"

"Probably work, but I can't be your date, virgil."

He pouts, much like a child when they're told no. "Why not?"

"How would that work?"

"It's fine, I'll handle everything y/n. You just need to pack your bags and get the time off work. Hotels, flights, everything we need there, I'll take care of."

"Wait, the wedding isn't here?"

"Portugal," he says, doesn't miss the slight raise of your eyebrows.

"I've always said I'd go back to Portugal, even if it's just for a short time."

"See," Virgil says, "it's like my lying led us here, this can be a good thing for both of us. I'll have a girlfriend for the weekend and you get to visit Portugal again."

You can't help but laugh at his justification. "Please," he says, "I'm begging you now. I'll own you big time." His hands clasped together under his chin as he looked at you with big, brown, puppy eyes.

"Like season passes to your box at Anfield big time?" You asked, a raised eyebrow. Virgil laughs, nodding. "Exactly like that."

"You've got a deal then." You tell him, he smiles. "Perfect, I can't thank you enough."

"Mhm hm, now drink your tea before it gets cold."

--

The week of the wedding arrives faster than expected, you had been in prep mode all week; getting your hair and nails done, trying to pack whatever you think you'd need for a wedding.

A celebrity's wedding isn't different from a normal one, is it? Is that what a footballer is? A celebrity ? Can you call it a celebrity wedding- Your thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.

It's Virgil, a big smile on his face despite it being 8am. "Why are you so happy?" You asked upon opening the door.

"Oh, good morning to you too, sunshine. Are you ready to go?" He makes a face, chuckling. He starts carrying your luggage out of the house as you make one last walk through, assuming you had everything and things were in place for the few days you'd be away.

"Yup, all set." You notice he was putting your suitcase into his car. "You're driving?"

"Yeah, I figured it'd be faster than an Uber."

"We've got," you glanced at your phone, "4 hours before our flight."

"I know, it's fine." He waves you off, shutting the trunk before opening the passenger side door for you. You lock up and walk over the lawn to his driveway, getting into the car.

It was a short drive to the airport, the music played quietly and Virgil hummed as he drove. He glances over to see you typing away on your phone. "Who are you texting so early?"

"Playing the possessive boyfriend already, Virgil?" A raised eyebrow as you looked at the man. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head. "I'm kidding," you rested a hand on his knee. He looks down and you move your hand. "I was just replying to some work stuff, I've never left them for so long."

"It's only 3 days, they'll be fine. Plus, don't they know you're on vacation?"

"Not really," you set the phone on your lap, "I told them I had some family stuff, couldn't exactly explain that Virgil Van Dijk was asking me- no, begging me, to be his fake wedding date."

"Technically," he points a finger at you, "it's a real wedding date, you're just my fake girlfriend."

"Technicalities, Virgil."

He laughs, pulling into the parking lot. The two of you head into the airport and after checking in, the woman sends the two of you down a hallway that seemed like a dead end.

You didn't travel often but you knew this seemed.. sketchy to say the least.

"Where are we going?" You asked Virgil, the man opens the door for you and leads you right onto the tarmac. There's a plane a few feet away and you turn to look at him, dot connecting in your head. "Private?" You asked him another question.

He nods, "figured I'd spoil my girlfriend," he jokes, smiling at you as you two walked over to the plane.

You sat across from Virgil, checking your phone for the millionth time since you've left home. "You know, they won't be able to reach you when we're in the air, I'm sure they'll be fine."

"I know," you switched it off and set it down before the plane took off.

The two of you were eating breakfast, a rather large spread for being in the air and considering the flight was barely 3 hours.

"So," you set the fork down on the plate, "get me the details, who's gonna be at the wedding?"

Virgil takes a sip of his coffee, "well, Andy and Rachel obviously."

"Obviously," you chuckled.

"Thiago, Jordan, Millie, Adam and their wives, Ox and his girlfriend, us and then Trent."

"What, Trent doesn't get a plus one?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. Plus he's in the states, he said he's coming but we have to see."

You nod, the two of you chat a bit more. Virgil updates you on a few matches, how they think they're going to do, what it's like being captain. You tell him how the clinic is doing, how you're liking it so far compared to when you used to work at the hospital. Just small details that might come up in a conversation with his teammates.

Once you landed, Virgil collected your luggage and you were off to the hotel. It was a short walk to the venue from the hotel, the two of you put your stuff away and decided to go for a walk, grabbing a coffee before heading back to the hotel.

The rehearsal dinner was in a few hours, giving you two more than enough time to get ready. "We need to get our story straight," he says to you when you come in from the balcony.

"What story ?"

"Our outfits," he says with total seriousness, "what are you wearing tonight?"

You shook your head with a small smile on your face, taking the two dresses out of the wardrobe to show him; a light blue dress with a halter top, the small white flowers going from the waist to the bottom hem and the other was a burnt orange that was backless.

"I figured the blue was a bit more family friendly, classy enough without being too dressy," you hold it up to yourself to show him. He nods, "yeah, good. It's pretty."

You hung it back in the wardrobe before turning to him. "What are you going to wear?"

"We need to match." He was already searching through his suitcase for the shirt to match your dress. "Do we really need to?" You sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him.

He nods, pulling out the baby blue shirt. "This is close enough, no?"

"Yeah, but why does it look like you've had it rolled up in the bottom of a box for like.. 4 years?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the state of it. Virgil shakes the shirt, trying to rid it of the permanent wrinkles. "Do you not have an iron, Virgil?"

"I do, but uh, I forgot to iron it."

You shook your head, getting up to search for the iron you knew you saw. You find it in the drawer in the wardrobe, handing it to him. Virgil spreads the shirt on the bed, plugging the iron in before fiddling with the settings. He looks between the iron, the shirt and you, a bit clueless before attempting to iron the shirt.

He works on the sleeve, making it worse than it was before, you watch as he helplessly works at the shirt. You figured maybe you were making him nervous in some weird way so you excused yourself to the bathroom to unpack your makeup and hair stuff.

When you came back, 7 minutes later, he was still working on the same sleeve. Your lips pressed together, arms folded over your chest as you watched.

"What?" He asked, glancing at you.

"You're terrible at that. Do you not know how to iron?"

He sighs, "it's been years since I've had to do it, I usually just get my stuff dry cleaned."

You smiled as you walked over, taking the iron from him and putting him out of his misery. "If I leave you to iron this, you might take the whole 3 hours to finish it. Why don't you go shower or whatever you need to do, I'll do it for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go. Before you ruin the shirt," you shook your head, switching the setting from wool to cotton. You wondered how he ended up on wool to begin with. "Thank you," he smiles, walking into the bathroom.

While he showers, you finish up on his shirt and hang it on a hanger in the wardrobe. You also looked for his pants, ironing the 3 pairs of dress pants he had brought as you didn't know which one he'd be wearing.

Virgil returns to the room post shower, white towel wrapped around him that sat right below his hips, and you had just shut the wardrobe after hanging up his pants. You turn to find him behind you, your eyes fixed on the man; the water dripping down his chest, down to his stomach and it stops at the towel wrapped around his waist.

"You're staring, y/n." He says, you can hear the smirk on his face before your eyes meet his face.

It's not like you've never seen him shirtless before, he used the pool in his yard quite often, not to mention the glimpse of him you catch in the media or what the Liverpool account posts.

Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before speaking. "I uh, I ironed your pants as well, I wasn't sure which ones you were gonna wear so I ironed all of them."

He smiles, "thanks."

You nod, excusing yourself to the bathroom to shower. You shut the door, back pressed to it for a moment before going about your routine. You weren't sure how long you were in there but you had showered, done your hair and you were mid way through your makeup when there was a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Virgil calls from the other side of the door. "I need to fix my hair." He says and you open the door for him, concealer all over your face, hair pinned up with the robe wrapped around you.

He smiles when he sees you; you look so.. well, beautiful but there was something else, a domesticity of sorts. The two of you getting ready in the same bathroom, there's some intimate in the way you were seeing each other right now. Moving in silence as you both did your own thing beside one another.

You break the silence, "how did we meet?"

"We're neighbours..?" His eyes meet yours in the mirror, confusion all over his face.

"I mean if they ask, your teammates. What did you tell them?"

"Oh," he says, wrapping the hair tie around his hair. "I told them we met through mutual friends, my friend, Kevin. His wife knows you and we were all at the same party and we hit it off from there."

You hum, finishing up on your makeup. You were searching for your lipstick, "and how long have we been together?" You find the one you were looking for.

"Almost a year. If my math is right, it should be like.. 10 months?"

The lipstick in your hand, you look at Virgil with a shocked look on your face. "You've been lying to them for almost a year? How the hell did you manage that?"

His lips pressed together then he shrugs, which makes you laugh. "Okay," you nod, "almost a year it is." You turn back to the mirror, applying your lipstick.

Virgil watches as you do it, your hands steady while you go over your lips, pressing them together to make the colour even. "What do we think?" You asked, turning to him when you notice he's watching.

"Beautiful," he smiles, "truly."

"So cheesy," you chuckled, walking out of the bathroom to change into your dress.

The two of you head down to the venue a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to meet his teammates at the rehearsal dinner.

Before you walked in, Virgil grabbed your hand which caught you off guard. Your fingers interlocked with his and it took you a moment to realize why he did that; the two of you were a couple, of course.

It was already full in there, most of their family had already arrived and a few friends were scattered through the venue. You see a few of his teammates but Virgil leads you to the front, tapping Andy on the shoulder.

"Virg!" Andy smiles, pulling Virgil into a hug. "You made it," he steps back and sees you next to the man, his grin only widening. "You must be the famous girlfriend we hear about all the time."

"That would be me," you smiled, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, this is Rachel, bride to be." He introduces you to his fiancee. You smiled at her, the two of you exchanging niceties.

"It's nice of you to make it, Andy was saying how he was certain Virgil wouldn't be bringing you." Rachel says, her arm interlocked with Andy's.

"Well to be fair, Virg seemed a bit nervous to ask me to come but I wouldn't miss it for the world. I don't think I've said it but congratulations."

Virgil's heart skips a beat, it wasn't out of ordinary that someone called him Virg, but you've never had. You always called him Virgil, so to hear the nickname come out of your mouth, make him rather.. soft.

"It's my fault," Andy starts, "we did tell Virg to bring you around before but he always said you were busy with work. So I think it's fair of me to think you were fake."

You laughed, "I can assure you I'm alive and real, feel free to pinch me to confirm." Andy laughed at your comment, smiling at his teammate in approval of you. Virgil returns the smile.

"Anyways, make yourselves comfortable, we're going to start the rehearsal soon." Rachel tells the two of you, leading Andy off to greet someone else.

Virgil's hand rests on your lower back, the two of you sitting towards the middle of the chairs, watching as they went through the rehearsal. It was mostly family, his teammates were only there so they could all mingle and catch up as they had been on break for a few weeks at this point.

At some point after they were done the run through, Virgil suggested drinks and you followed him to the bar, his hand once again on your lower back.

"Virg!" You hear someone call for him, the two of you turning at the same time to see who was coming his way. Both Jordan and Millie were making their way over to the two of you.

"Hey," Virgil smiles at his teammates. "Guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend. This is Jordan and James."

You smiled at the men, "it's nice to meet you both."

"We thought you weren't coming," Millie says and Jordan follows up with a, "it's nice to meet you, we thought you weren't real."

"That seems to be the general consensus tonight," you laughed.

Ox makes his way over to the bar, seeing his teammate with a woman he's never seen before. "You must be Virgil's girlfriend, I'm Ox." He introduces himself.

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you."

"I can't believe you're actually here."

You turn to Virgil, making a face at him. "Why do all your teammates think I'm not real?"

"He wouldn't show us pictures," Millie says, shrugging. "I guess that's true," you nudged Virgil, "between Virg's practices and games, and then with my work, we barely get time to see each other and when we do, we're not on our phones."

Jordan makes a face, looking between you and Virgil and you instantly know what he's thinking. "No!" You laughed, shaking your head. "That's so not what I meant."

"What is it that you do, y/n?" Ox pipes up.

"I'm a doctor, an OB actually."

"Oh wow," Ox smiles at his teammate. "She's good, you've got good taste, big man. I see why she hasn't been around."

You smile, your phone buzzing in your hand. You excuse yourself, walking away to take the phone call. You can hear the boys talking behind you, you glance over your shoulder and smile at Virgil, the man's heart skipping a beat. Despite you not being his actual girlfriend, it did feel good to get the approval from his teammates.

Virgil hadn't even realized how long he had been chatting with his teammates, he went in search of you and found you just outside, chatting with Julia, the two of you talking about their kids.

"There you are," Virgil says, walking down the steps towards you. You smile at him, "I see you've met Julia." He gives the woman a quick hug before standing beside you.

"Yeah," you smiled at her, "I'm mad at you, you know."

"What for?" His brows furrowed, looking at you. He's wondering what he could have possibly done.

"You've been hiding me from her, Julia and I are best friends now."

The blonde smiles at you, "yes we are. We've already made plans to get lunch when we get back to Liverpool. I can't believe you've never brought her around before, Virgil." She tells him, her voice similar to the one she uses when she scolded her children, and or Thiago, when they misbehave.

"Oh well, I'm sure y/n's told you about her hectic schedule. Blame her, not me. I do hope you two have fun at this lunch." He laughs, his arm over your shoulder.

The rest of the night was quiet, everyone caught up with each other with their summer plans and you met the rest of the players and their partners over the course of the night. Eventually you two decide to call it a night, heading back to the hotel.

You were by the door, taking your heels off when you saw Virgil stop in the middle of the room, in front of the bed.

"What's wrong?" You asked him, walking over. You seem to realize what he's thinking; there's only one bed.

Not like they've taken a bed out of the room while you were gone but you two had been too tired and too busy getting ready for the dinner that neither of you seemed to register that there was in fact, only one bed in the room.

It didn't occur to Virgil when booking the room that you'd need a separate bed, you weren't really a couple after all.

"I'll take the couch," you tell him, not wanting him to feel bad for his slight mess up.

He shook his head, turning to you. "No, it's fine. I'll take the couch, you take the bed."

You glance at the couch next to the window, it was spacious - that's if you were under 5 foot. There's no way he'd sleep comfortably if he did manage to fit on it.

"You know what, we're both adults. We'll sleep together." You tell him, his eyes widening at your words. "Not what I meant," you smack his arm. "We can both fit on the bed comfortably, no need for either of us to suffer on the couch."

"You're sure?" He asks and you nod, "of course, but hands to yourself mister." You pointed a finger to him, making him laugh.

Virgil raises his hands, "I swear I'll be on my best behaviour," he says, watching you walk into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

--

The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you from your sleep. You shut your eyes, trying to get a few more minutes but you can hear the shower running and then shuts off followed by the bathroom door opening. The smell of Virgil's body wash fills the room and you sit up, rubbing your eyes.

"Mornin' sunshine," he smiles at you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You yawn, stretching as you try to wake yourself up. "What time is it?"

"10:27," he looks at the clock, "how about some breakfast?"

"Yes please," you get out of bed, fixing the comforter as you walk to the bathroom. "Lots of coffee please," you smiled at him, shutting the door.

Virgil orders room service while you shower, you return to the room just as it arrives. The two of you sit on the couch, eating breakfast in comfortable silence. Virgil grabs his phone, "Andy sent over some pictures from last night," he shows you a few photos that the groom to be had sent.

"Those are cute, send them to me."

Your phone buzzes on the bed and you look over at the clock, "shit, I've got to do my hair." You set the cup down on the table and walk towards the bathroom. "Do you need the bathroom?"

"No, I'm good." he tells you, "do your thing."

You walk in and walk back out, leaning on the door frame. "What are you wearing today?"

He smiles, "don't worry, I ironed it and put it in the closet."

"Properly?" You asked, walking over to confirm.

"Yes," he shook his head, watching as you took the shirt out to confirm that he did in fact iron it properly. "Wow, good job. Big upgrade from yesterday."

"Watched a YouTube video," he says, making you laugh.

You leave Virgil in the room, off to shower and then to start on your makeup and hair as you weren't 100% sure what look you wanted to do. Virgil left you alone, letting you get ready in peace. He could hear the music playing, your humming accompanying the melody.

He thought to himself that it was something he could get used to, that his house would feel so quiet and empty without you humming.

The line between real and fake seemed to be getting blurred more and more as the time went by.

"Virg?" You called for the man, he got up from his spot on the couch. He had been ready for some time, you still had an hour before you needed to leave. "Yeah?"

"Can you zip me up?"

You stepped out of the bathroom, hair pulled over your shoulder with your dress on. He smiles, nodding as he walks over to you; the sage green dress hugged your body in the right places, it was as if the dress was made for you and only you.

Virgil's hand rests on your waist, the other holds the zipper and gives it a soft tug, pulling it up to the top. The hand holding the zipper now turns into fingers trailing down the curve of your spine, coming to rest on the other side of your hip. "There you go."

Turning around to face him, Virgil's hands remained on your hips. "Thank you," you look up. He nods, "you look.. wow."

You can't help but laugh, straightening his shirt. "You look pretty wow yourself."

Virgil lets go of you when you take a step back, walking to the vanity to put your jewelry on. It takes the two of you half an hour to gather the last minute things you needed, assuring you were ready before heading out for the ceremony.

It's a short walk to the venue, everyone was being ushered into the church to take their seats while the bridal party was lining up to walk in when you two arrived.

The weather was beautiful, the sun was out and the church was full with their families and friends; they couldn't ask for a better start to their wedding day.

The ceremony was short and sweet, Andy and Rachel exchanging vows and promises, everyone was beyond happy for them.

Most of the guests were now outside, the doors to the church open as everyone was heading out.

You stood next to Virgil by the stairs, letting him block the sun from your face as you checked your phone. You hear the footsteps before you hear the voice. "You're actually here, you're real?" The Scouse accent thick, Trent.

"I am real," you looked up, smiling at the man who looks like he's seen better days. "You must be Trent."

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Excuse me." He says, covering a yawn with his hand.

Before you two could speak, Andy was calling the two players over for a group photo. You stop Virgil, standing on your tiptoes to reach his collar, his hand on your hip you keep you steady as you fix it before sending him on his way; a small act of intimacy that you'd only find between a couple.

You had been checking your emails, something you knew Virgil would complain about if he caught you doing it yet again. You were so caught up that you hadn't noticed him calling your name. When you do, you look up, making a hand motion as to ask him what he wants. He waved you over, pointing to the spot in front of him. Your brows furrowed, still unsure what he wanted as the dots didn't seem to connect. Virgil realized as much, pointing towards the photographer and then back to the spot in front of him.

Only then did it click what he meant.

You head over, joining the other girlfriends and wives in the photo. Andy and Rachel were front and centre, the rest of you around them.

"Alright everyone, squeeze in a bit more please!" The photographer shouts, showing you all with his hands to move closer to each other.

Virgil moves you from beside him to in front of him, his arm over your shoulder and your hand instinctively reaches up, fingers interlocking with his.

The photographer gives everyone a moment to situate themselves, "perfect, alright everyone look here! Smile!"

A few moments later, you were all allowed to move. Andy and Rachel were off to take some more photos, there was only about 30 minutes before the reception which wasn't too far from the church.

Everyone makes their way over, waiting for the official entrance from Andy and Rachel as Mr and Mrs Robertson for the first time.

You were sat next to Virgil, Jordan and his wife, Rebecca, to the right of Virgil and Thiago and Julia to your left.

Andy and Rachel were having their first dance, the whole venue was quiet as you all watched the two of them, wrapped up in love and giggling as they whispered to each other mid dance.

You wiped the outer corner of your eye, blinking a few times in an attempt to save your makeup. Virgil turns slightly when he hears a small sniffle. He sees your watery eyes, smiling to himself and leans in to whisper to you; "are you crying?"

"Shut up," you whispered back, turning him back around with a small nudge. "Weddings make me emotional."

The evening was quiet, dinner consisted of everyone chatting, Andy and Rachel made the rounds to say hello to everyone who they didn't get a chance to talk to at the church. Eventually they reopened the bar and the dance floor, everyone started making their way around, mingling, drinking and dancing.

You were replying to a message when Virgil came over, two shot glasses in hand. He passes one to you, "to Andy and Rachel," he says, tapping his glass to you. The two of you down the shots, tequila, based on the after taste.

"Okay, let's go dance!"

"I don't dance, Virg."

"It's a wedding, you have to dance!" He takes your phone from you, putting it into his pocket and grabbing your hand. "Virg," you groaned, the man ignores your pleas and takes you to the dance floor, spinning you around.

Before you know it, the two of you are giggling and dancing, his arms over your shoulders as he hugs you from behind, swaying to the music.

"I'm gonna get a drink," you tell him and the man lets you go while nodding before shimmying his way over to Trent, who looks like he was about to fall asleep in his chair. You laughed, leaving Virgil to bother Trent as you walked to the bar.

You had barely made it to the bar when someone shouted for you. "Y/n!" You see Thiago off to the side, "can you take a picture for us?"

"Sure," you take the phone from him, he and Julia standing together, arms wrapped around each other as they smiled, then Thiago kissed her.

Sometimes you wonder what it'd be like if you had a stable and loving relationship like theirs.

"I thought you got lost!" Virgil says, walking towards you. You shook your head, handing the phone back over to Thiago. The Spaniard then turns, passing the phone to Virgil. "Okay now you come in, let him take the picture."

"Are you sure?" You asked, Thiago was already pulling you into the photo.

He nods, you and Julia on either side of him, the 3 of you smiling as Virgil takes the photo, the camera flashing. Thiago steps out, letting you and Julia have some together, his wife telling him something about they have enough pictures of them together. You laughed, the two of you smiling for the camera.

"Do you want one together?" Thiago looks at Virgil, who then looks at you and you shrug, waving him over. Virgil hands his phone to Thiago while Julia replaces him by her husband's side.

Virgil's arm over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, the two of you smiling while Virgil pulls you into his side. "Alright Virg, give your lady a kiss." Thiago says, smiling.

Your 'boyfriend's' cheeks are red, a flush he can blame on the Portuguese heat or the liquor but you know the real reason. "Come on man, what are you waiting for?!" Thiago says, laughing at Virgil's shyness.

"Leave them alone," Julia tells her husband, rolling her eyes at his childishness.

"It's fine," you whisper to Virgil, turning to him a bit. He looks at you, whispering back, "you sure?" You stood close, the air between you two charged with a mixture of tension and anticipation.

"Mhm hm," your hand rests on his chest while he leans down, you tip toe a bit, meeting him half way when he kisses you.

But as your hand found its way to Virgil's cheek and your lips met against each other's, something shifted. What was meant to be a quick moment blossomed into something real, something raw. When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, a shared realization dawned upon them.

The kiss may have been staged, but the feelings it stirred within were undeniably genuine.

As you glanced at each other, a silent understanding passed between you and Virgil. This fake relationship may have begun as a charade, but perhaps, just perhaps, it held the promise of something more.

Thiago grinned, "perfect. The picture of love," he says, handing the phone back to Virgil. You smiled, your own cheeks now flushed and red. You reached over, your thumb brushed over his lips to wipe away the lipstick left behind. Virgil's arm wraps around your shoulder, the two of you chatting as you join Thiago and Julia for a round of shots.

The night wrapped up just after midnight, everyone waiting at the front to wish Andy and Rachel well, seeing them off as they left before everyone else headed to wherever home was after that.

Virgil's jacket over your shoulders while you walked back to the hotel. Despite the humidity earlier in the day, there was now a slight chill in the air.

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, opening the door for you. "I did," you walk in, waiting for the elevator to your room. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Thank you for coming, you really saved my ass."

It hits you in the moment that this was in fact, fake. You were doing him a favour, you weren't a couple, you never will be. Just a good friend helping him out in a tough situation.

When you returned to the room, Virgil announced that he's gonna go take a shower while you got ready for bed. The two of you moved in silence, you sat at the vanity taking your makeup off while the sound of the water running filled the room. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't real yet again.

All the feelings felt over the weekend were just for show. Certainly Virgil didn't feel the same way you did.

The steam filled the bathroom, Virgil lets the water run as he stands there. The kiss was real, the moments you shared were real, his feelings for you were real.

How the hell was he used to bring it up without it being awkward?

The shower shut off just as you were about to get into bed. Your phone bus is on the nightstand, and you reach over to grab it. There's a notification from Instagram.

juliavigas tagged you in a post. - 2mins ago.

You opened it, checking to see what she posted. There's a few photos from the wedding. Some of her and Thiago, the venue, one of you and her, as well as the one with you, her and Thiago. She also included the one in front of the church, Virgil's arm wrapped around you as you all smiled.

Virgil finds his way to the bed, sitting next to you. "What's so interesting?"

"Julia posted some pictures," you show your phone, letting him scroll through the pictures. "I guess everyone will think we're together now." He looks at the one in front of the church before handing the phone back to you.

"Wasn't that the whole point?" You ask, setting your phone on the nightstand.

"I guess so," he shrugs, the two of you sitting there in silence, the tv playing quietly in the background. There's a million thoughts going through his head at this very moment.

As he looked over at you, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Virgil couldn't help but admire your beauty, the way your eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored a flickering flame. It was in shared moments like these that he felt a pull, a force pulling him closer, urging him to take that leap of faith. But as the silence went on, Virgil felt the weight of his hesitation, suffocating him with its embrace.

How could he confess his feelings when the fear of rejection spun around in his mind, an unwelcome shadow over his every thought?

He glances at you once more, your eyes meeting in a brief exchange, Virgil felt a sense of longing wash over him, a wave of emotion threatening to consume him whole.

Still, the words remained unspoken, trapped behind the barricade of his uncertainty.

He had to take the leap of faith, he wouldn't know if he didn't try.

"What are we?" He blurts out, breaking the silence.

You turn, looking at him with a confused expression. "What are.. what do you mean?"

"Well.. we.. we kissed, so like, are we.. what are we?"

"We're not in high school, Virg. A kiss is a kiss, no?"

His smile fades, your heart breaking the moment you see that. He nods, turning his attention back to the tv. "Yeah, no. Of course."

"I'm kidding," your hand rests over his on the bed, "if you're asking me if I like.. if I like you, then I'll only answer if you put it into a note, like high school." You raised your eyebrows, making him chuckle.

"Yeah, okay." He nods. The topic was dropped, the tension lifting slightly.

--

The next morning, you and Virgil leave bright and early, heading to the airport for your flight back to England. The plane had barely taken off and you were still not fully awake, nursing your coffee as Virgil's fingers drummed on his knee.

"Dude," you groaned, "I have a headache, it sounds like you're playing a gong right now."

He stops tapping on his leg, brows furrowed and lips twisted in a weird expression. "Can you play a gong? Is that what it is?"

"I don't know, you know what I mean." You tell him, leaning your head back, eyes shut. You barely got all but 3 minutes of silence before Virgil speaks up again. "Do you have a pen?"

You open your eyes, reaching over to dig through your purse next to you before fishing out a pen and handing it to him. You watch him as he uncaps it, scribbling something down on the napkin in front of him, sliding it over the table to you with the pen.

'Do you like me? Check yes or no.' The two little boxes labeled yes and no under his question.

You smile, shaking your head at his childishness and the fact that he took what you said seriously. You picked up the pen, checking a box and sliding it over to him.

The yes was checked, Virgil glances at you with a cheeky smile before picking up the pen, flipping over the napkin and writing something else before sliding it back to you.

'Will you be my girlfriend?' the same yes and no boxes drawn under the question.

Your answer was yes but you wouldn't give into him so quickly. You picked up the pen, chin in the palm of your head thinking as if it was the hardest question of your life. You can see Virgil shifting nervously in his seat, and it's as if you can hear him overthinking his decision to ask you.

To put him out of his misery, you check a box and slide it back over to him.

There's a sigh of relief when he sees you've checked yes. You toss the pen at him playfully, shaking your head. "You're so cheesy."

"You said to ask it in a note!" He says, folding the napkin and putting it into his pocket.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it!" You laughed, the man shook his head and unbuckled, leaving over the table. His hands cupping your face, smiling at you before he kisses you.

Your hand interlocked with his, stretched over the table when he sat back down. "How about when we get back, I take you on an actual date?"

Your thumb brushes over his hand. "Not sick of me yet?"

"Could never get sick of you, y/n."

--

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @lettersfromvenus @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @valentinehrts @pulpfixion @ironmaiden1313 @candacels @muglermami @leclerces @yuoluver @themandaloriansdiaries

#virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk x you #virgil van dijk x y/n #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk fanfic #virgil van dijk fic #virgil van dijk oneshot #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football fanfic #football fluff #football one shot #football fic #football rpf

[curseofhecate]

My heart wont start anymore, for you

Sirius Black x fem!reader

She was in love with him. He never felt the same

1.7k

tw: mention of Y/n, slight swearing

This has been in my drafts since August. The ending is sloppy.

It had been going on for years now. Ever since she'd first saw him, that September 1st on platform 9¾, she'd only ever had eyes for him.

Stolen glances, innocent brushes of her hand against his, so many signs and yet he never picked up any of them.

Sirius Black was too focused on other girls to notice his best friend pinning after him, even now, after all these years. And yet her feelings never changed.

"So, who's that?" James teasingly asked the black haired boy, glancing towards a ravenclaw girl in their year, who was practically eyefucking Sirius from across the room.

"Jessica Monroe" Sirius smirked, then continued eating his breakfast. "Dude, that's like, the 3rd one this month" Remus pointed out.

"It's not my fault the ladies can't resist me"

"And as it seems, neither can you" Peter chimed in. "At least n/n here hasn't fallen for your charms yet" James joked, eyes set on the only girl in their friend group.

"As if!" She laughed, trying to cover up the rosy color of her cheeks.

Little did James know how wrong he had been.

It wasn’t until two weeks later when things really started going downhill. She had just returned from her perfect's duties when she found Sirius waiting for her in the common room. It was well past midnight and everyone had retired to their dorms long ago.

"Finally, I've been waiting for you for hours" the boy jumped up from his spot on the couch once he saw her. She stared at him confused. He gently grabbed her wrist and dragged her to sit beside him as he plopped himself on the couch.

"What are you even doing down here at this time?"

Sirius ignored her question. "I need to talk to you."

"Well, couldn't it wait until the morning? I'm exhausted" She groaned, leaning her head back on the couch.

He ignored her again. 

"I realized something."

His words had her sitting straighter in mere seconds.

Had he finally figured out her feelings for him?

She wasn’t exactly subtle about them either.

He must know.

Sirius looked at her. Whatever it was she was suspecting at that moment could have never even come close to what was yet to come.

"I've been sleeping with Thalia" he breathed out.

It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to sleep with different girls then dump them within the course of the next week. Most of the time he didn’t even mention who it was he was having sex with, so why would bringing her up now?

"Okay?"

She finally said not knowing how else to respond.

"The thing is, I want us to be more. As in, I actually have feelings for her. She makes me the happiest just by smiling at me. So much that makes me want to stay by her side until the end of my days."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with her. Hopelessly and utterly in love."

And it was in that moment when the little candle of hope she had burned out. 

The thing was, that even if Sirius was with other girls, it never lasted long simply because he had never loved any of them. The flame was just weaker, flickering.

And now there he was, talking about how he couldn't imagine a world without the blonde Gryffindor, going as far as to admit being in love with her. There was no candle anymore, only a paddle of melted wax where it once had been.

The girl in front of him, blinked back tears as she shook her head. "I want her to ask her on a date '' Sirius continued.

"But when I do, I want it to be perfect. This is where I need your help. You know her better than me, you can tell me what she likes, for example which kind of flowers does she like the most? And what’s her favorite color? Does she prefer a picnic by the black lake or stargazing at the astronomy tower?" the boy continued rambling until the Y/n stopped him.

And as much as it hurt her to do so, she did value his happiness more than hers. In the end she agreed to help him.

It had been three weeks since Sirius and Thalia started dating. And it was safe to say they were stuck to the honeymoon phase.

The two couldn't keep their hands off of each other. They were always touching somehow and every chance they got to kiss, they did. They'd go on dates every other day and more often than not they slept in each other's bed, at the point where Remus had started complaining that she was practically living in their dorm.

Not to mention that they were always together. And when they weren't, which was a rare occurrence, all Sirius could do was talk about her.

She didn’t blame him. Thalia was a girl made out of angel dust, the prettiest and kindest one could ever be. She had to be the sweetest thing to ever walk on this earth.

Yet Y/n couldn’t help but envy her. The blonde was everything she wasn’t.

Once the two reached their one month anniversary it had started to become frustrating. And the closer the couple grew, the further the two friends slipped apart. 

Sirius didn’t know what had happened between them. One second she was there, the other one she was gone, completely out of sight. It seemed to him that earth might as well have swallowed her whole and left no trace behind. 

In the months following Sirius and Thalia getting together, Y/n had avoided him at any and every cost. She still hung out with the rest of the marauders, they were her best friends after all just not when Sirius was around.

Instead she’d now hang out more with Lily, Marlene and Mary, the three growing closer ever since she started sitting with them at dinner. She’d joke about how her and Marlene were practically married at this point and she’d even had made friends with Regulus (or something along those lines) after finding him up at the astronomy tower. 

To say things had changed was an understatement. 

It was a slow progress too. Yet Sirius failed to notice it. Until now.

Him and Thalia had had their first argument the night before. It was unusual for the two to fight at all, much less not be on talking terms. Sirius needed to talk to his best friend but how could he do that when she was nowhere to be found.

It was in the common room, well after dinner when Sirius managed to spot her. She was sitting next to Peter, helping him with his potion’s essay. 

“Hey” he greeted taking a seat opposite her. She muttered a quiet ‘hi’ back but didn’t look up. 

He sat in silence for a little while, waiting for them to finish. When he finally decided he couldn't wait anymore, he cleared his throat. The two looked up at him confused. “Anything you need Sirius?” she asked, rather coldly. 

He wasn’t used to her calling him by his first name. It was either Siri or pads and sometimes ‘my star’ but never just plain Sirius. “Yes, actually. I need to talk to you.”

“Well can’t it wait. I have to help Pete with this and then I promised Lily I would put her hair into French braids” she said, trying to make up a lie to avoid him. She didn’t even know how to do French braids.

“It won’t take long, I promise”

“Fine,” She sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Not here” he said, motioning for her to get up before doing so himself. He guided her upstairs to his and the boy’s dorm room. It had been a while since she’d last been there. And yet nothing had changed.

“What is going on with you?” Sirius asked after shutting the door closed and turning to her.

“What? Nothing. Everything is perfectly normal” the girl shrugged trying to play it off.

“Except it isn’t. You are never around anymore.We never talk anymore, you don’t even sit with us in the dining hall. I haven’t seen you since the last full moon and even then you didn’t talk to me. You were my best friend. Us against the world, remember? What the hell happened to us? What the hell happened to you n/n'' The more he spoke the more his voice rose. 

“No” she shook her head.

“What do you mean no?” He asked, frustrated.

“Sirius, you were the one who started pulling away. After you got with Thalia you were always with her. And when you weren’t it was your main, not to say only, topic of discussion.”

“That’s not true” he argued.

“Yes it is! Tell me Sirius had you even realized I wasn’t around you as much before today?” she defended. 

She was right. He hadn’t.

“And you know what’s worse? I was in love with you. I have been in love with you since the first day on the train.”

She has done it now. 

“Do you even know how fucking hard it is? Listening to someone you love constantly about someone else?”

Silence. She hadn't intended to say this but she couldn't have controlled it. She had finally reached her limit. 

Sirius looked down at the floor. He hadn't expected to hear such words from her yet he felt extremely guilty.

This was it. Her entire world came crumbling down and it was clear that whatever hope she had for salvaging their friendship was now gone. She had ruined it. 

She looked up. Sirius' gaze was still pinned to the floor. It hurt her that he wouldn't even look at her. 

She left the room slamming the door shut behind her. There were too many unanswered questions, more than before. There was confusion and then there were mixed feelings. It seemed that nothing was certain anymore. 

And in that moment her heart stopped. And she knew, her heart wouldn't start anymore, at least not for him.

#the marauders era #sirius black x reader #curseofhecate

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for needing to know where the cat is before closing a door?

I (25M) moved in with my girlfriend (26F) of two years a few months ago, and things have been going really well up until now. I have pretty bad anxiety that's been managed well enough with medication and therapy, and she's always been very supportive of my mental health, like making jokes she'll ask for no pickles for me, thinks me stuttering while talking to people is cute, etc.

Just over a week ago we adopted her grandmother's cat (4M, his name's Stanley) since she's being moved to a senior care home. She really freaked out at the idea of Stanley going to a shelter, so my girlfriend offered to adopt him so he'd be safe, and we could maybe bring him to visit her sometimes if the care home allowed it. I haven't had a cat since I was a kid, my girlfriend is already friends with him, and her grandmother thought it was a good idea, everyone was happy.

And there's where the problems start. I don't know why, but I'm constantly worried I'm going to lock him in a room or cupboard or something. He's not a very fast cat but he loves finding the darkest most out of the way corner to sleep in, which is usually a wardrobe we leave open, but he tries to squeeze himself anywhere. I can't relax until I see where he is outside of the thing I'm trying to close, as checking inside to verify he isn't in there doesn't work, my brain tells me he snuck in somehow right as I closed the door and I loop around to rechecking it until I go and find him sleeping somewhere else.

Usually my girlfriend laughs it off and assures me he's fine and I'd never lock him in somewhere even by mistake, but its really started to irritate her the past few days. Last night I was looking for him before I could close and turn on the dishwasher, and she just snapped. Yelled that I was being completely ridiculous and wasting time looking for him when I could see he wasn't in there. Before I could say anything back she turned on the dishwasher and it sent me into a panic attack because I still hadn't found Stanley, and I was completely convinced he was in the dishwasher. I couldn't even start calming down until he came in to wait for his dinner, and my girlfriend was making my anxiety worse by continuing to yell at me.

I left to stay at my parent's house after that to calm down properly, and I'm still there this morning (I'm not anxious about leaving Stanley alone with her, she's looked after him prior to us adopting him and I know she wouldn't lock him anywhere). I figured this would be something we'd have to talk about but my girlfriend hasn't answered any of my texts. She's telling other people about this though, since I've gotten messages from friends asking what happened. Some of them (as well as my parents) have assured me what she did was completely out of line, but others told me she's right for trying to help snap me out of my anxiety, and I need to stop being so worried about everything.

I thought she was absolutely the asshole for screaming at me the way she did, but I know it's irrational to think the way I do and I haven't really tried to find ways to stop from doing so. So I don't really know now, AITA for not trying to stop myself thinking like this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[kaneaken]

hello , I really like the way you write cyno, I was wondering if you could write something about cyno / (and maybe tighnari too if you're okay with it) with an s/o who easily gets sick, I've been very sick for what feels like forever and I need some comfort :( It'd help me so much, thank you<3

CYNO AND TIGHNARI WITH AN EASILY SICK S/O

author's note; hi, nonnie! i hope you feel better soon, sending you lots of well wishes from the other side of the screen <3 i think i went a little overboard with tighnari because this was my first chance to write him ^^;;, but i still hope you can enjoy :D

content notes; gn!reader, reader is referred to as (y/n), possible ooc characters, a lot of mentions of being sick and if that makes you uncomfy please don't read this, do flu seasons exist in genshin?

CYNO ♡

he honestly picked up quickly about how quickly you got sick

he has pretty sharp senses so he would catch on quickly if you got sick

a sniffle, a sneeze, or a cough would cause him to drag you to rest

don't even try to claim that you're fine because he isn't buying it

he's putting you in your bed to rest and that's final!

cyno isn't really the biggest expert when it comes to sickness

sure, he's gotten sick here and there, but it only tended to last a few days

he has a strong immune system

plus he refuses to believe he's actually sick when he is

he'll probably pay a visit to tighnari or even ask candace about the best way to get rid of your sickness

he makes you some recipes that candace recommended and makes sure that you take your medicine

he probably tells you some bad jokes or stories to bring up the mood while you're in bedrest

considering you get sick easily, cyno oftentimes fusses over you before you leave the house

especially if it's in the colder months

he tries his best to take precautions to keep sickness away during flu seasons

you still get sick, but honestly, with his help, it's calmed down

TIGHNARI (ft. COLLEI) ♡

he fusses over you a lot

he honestly does it a lot on a daily basis already, but it just increases when you're sick

whenever you're sick, you'll find yourself staying in bed almost the entire time

tighnari doesn't like letting you out of his sights out of fear of you fainting and hurting yourself

he's honestly very good at helping you get better

his past experiences with helping collei and other children make him quite qualified

speaking of collei-

she's also part of the 'fussing of sick (y/n) squad'

she hates it when she gets sick herself

so she tries her best to cheer you up and talk with you whenever she can

tighnari often leaves her to watch over you whenever he's needed out in the forest

back to tighnari, he sits next to your bed while you sleep

his species is nocturnal (according to my two google searches), so he tends to just watch you sleep for a bit

if you ever wake up in the night, he'll ask you about how feel or you need something

whenever you guys go out, like cyno, he also takes precautions to minimize your possibility of getting sick

if you guys are in the parts of the forest where there's rain, tighnari makes sure you have a sweater on and you are blocked from the rain

you even get to tuck your hands in his tail while you guys walk around

collei tries her best to knit you a scarf for the winter months

it didn't come out as well as she hoped, but you still use it

with another one on top, which tighnari made, for extra precaution

all in all, a very good duo to cure your sicknesses

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin cyno #genshin cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #cyno x reader #genshin tighnari #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x you

[forever-rogue]

My partner often joke about how we wouldn’t want each other to find anyone else if one of us were to die, so I’ve been thinking…. Joel x fem!reader where reader had lost her long term partner months before meeting Joel. She develops feelings for him but can’t bring herself to move on. “He would want you to move on.” “No, he wouldn’t.” I’ll leave it up to you if they do end up together or not cuz I just can’t decide lol

AN | Please, this is so soft and everything 🥺 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; mention of death (cancer) and grief

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Just before he could kiss you, you pulled away. You pulled away so fast, you almost tripped over your own feet and stumbled backwards.

"What's-"

"Don't," you held up your hand, shaking your head, "please."

"Baby," the way he whispered was so tender that it almost made you cry. He took a hesitant step closer, "what's wrong?"

"I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This," you repeated, pointing between your bodies as his entire face fell, "us. I can't do this, Joel. I can't be with you."

"I thought…" he exhaled heavily, hands on his hips as he tried to gather his thoughts. This was not what he had expected, "I thought we both wanted this. I thought-"

"You were wrong," oh. That hurt to say. The look on his face made you want to take it all back. You could see the tears listening in his eyes, "and so was I. I-I'm sorry."

"Can we just talk about it?"

"I've gotta go," before he could do or say anything else, you almost ran away from him, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. This was the worst.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"What's wrong with you?" Ellie could tell something was wrong even before Joel got the chance to sigh as he walked into the house. She set her book down and looked at him with a concerned expression, "what happened?"

"I don't even know," he sat down next to the young girl with a huff as she raised an eyebrow. He said your name softly and she leaned in closer, "she just left. Said she couldn't do this. Whatever this is."

"What did you do?" She asked, trying to keep herself from sounding too judgmental either way.

"All I did was try to kiss her," there's a sheepish blush that creeps into his neck and cheeks, "I didn't think it was out of place. It seemed…"

"Yeah," she scooted closer to him and gently patted his arm, "I think she's just scared."

"I haven't done-"

"Not of you," she quickly shut down that path of worry and fear, shaking her head fervently, "its just…has she told you about her partner? From a long time ago."

"No," Joel's face marred with worry. You'd only vaguely mentioned a partner in the past as he'd been getting to know you, but now he was curious and worried, "she hasn't really talked about that much."

"They were together for a while," Ellie explained, "a lot of years…she said…I think this needs to come from her but she said at one point they had a child. She only mentioned it once-"

"Fuck."

"Fuck," she agreed, "her partner died a few months before she moved here."

"Oh," he ran a hand over his tired face and sighed heavily. He'd had no clue - he still felt like a jerk. He wished he hadn't tried to kiss…not because he didn't want to, he really did, but he hated the idea that he hurt you even more. Even if it was accidental, "oh."

"I thought she told you," Ellie hated seeing him upset and knowing that you were upset, "but I'm sure she will…maybe she just needs a little bit of space."

"Yeah," he agreed with a grimace. He wanted to go over to yours now and work it all out. But he also didn't want to chase you away. You were worth, worth waiting for, "I'll give her time."

"It'll be okay," Joel wished he had as much confidence as Ellie did. He desperately hoped she was right, "I promise."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You felt so stupid for how you just ran away from Joel. The sensible thing would have been to talk to him and explain everything that was going through your mind. But when he leaned in to kiss you, every coherent thought had gone out the window. 

And the thing was that you really liked him. You found yourself falling for him harder and faster than you'd ever dreamed of or imagined. And it was scary. You hadn't felt that way about anyone in a long time…since him. 

It still hurt to think about; it still felt just as fresh and deep as the day it happened. And now you felt like you were betraying him by falling for someone else.

It was odd to even think about. You didn't even have to think about it at all, it happened so organically and everything with him felt so natural. 

Joel was unlike anyone you'd ever met before, in the best of ways. He was kind, caring, smart, funny, and a multitude of other things that became evident after you'd gotten to know him. 

And you knew, deep down, that you owed him an explanation. Even if it hurt and was hard to do, you had to tell him. He deserved it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed since the incident had occurred. It took an entire three days to work up the courage to seek out Joel and talk to him. When you found him working in the small shop you approached quietly, trying not to startle him. He must have felt your presence because he turned around and looked at you with a surprised expression on his face.

"Hey there," you whispered softly, holding up your hand in a meek little wave.

"Hey," the expression on his face was nothing short of relief. His shoulders relaxed and he instantly looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders.

"Listen, I–...can we talk?" He nodded and he motioned for you to follow him to the back where there was more privacy. It was a chilly winter afternoon, and snow had started falling softly. You held out your hand and caught a few flakes in your palm, watching them dissolve quickly.

"Listen, I want to a-"

"Don't," you touched his arm and shook your head, stopping him before he could fully believe that he was at fault for anything, "don't apologize, Joel. You don't owe me an apology - I owe you an apology."

"You don't have to…" he insisted sincerely, putting a finger under your chin and turning your face up to his, "you don't have to do anything. I just want to know that you're okay."

"I am…I think," you found it hard to look into his soft gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat, "there's something I have to tell you. I think it might help explain what happened. But maybe you already know - I have no clue what people spread around."

"Ellie," he answered as you relaxed. You adored the young girl and if anything, you were glad he heard it from her, "told me the shorthand version of what happened. But if you're ready, I'd rather hear it from you."

"Thank you," you blinked back the tears that were already welling up. He wasn't just judging, he just wanted to listen. To support you, "its kind of funny in a way. In a weird, sad kind of way but Ellie…she's almost the same age as my son would have been."

"Oh," he almost choked on the singular word. He knew that story all too well, "sweetheart…"

"My son, he…his name was Benjamin but we called him Benny. I had him when I was really young," you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. The cold air felt like it was burning your lungs, "he was born into this cruel world that took him from me way too soon. He was just a kid…he was my baby, you know? He was seven. Seven. How is that even fair?"

Joel tried to keep his composure as he wiped away your tears. He'd told you about Sarah; you listened and held him then. Loved him so much it made your heart ache. He'd had no clue that you'd gone through the same thing.

"My baby," you sniffled softly, leaning into his touch, "but at least then I had my boyfriend - my son's father. We'd been together for a long time already, since we were just kids really. I loved him so much. More than anything in this world besides our son. Everything fell apart but we always had each other. We promised each other that we'd always be there for one another."

"Can I…can I hug you?” he wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and make it all go away, and make everything better. You looked at him with big, wide doe eyes and nodded, melting into his touch, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you whispered as you buried your face into his chest. You never felt safer than when you were with him, “thank you. Joel, I…”

So many words were swirling around in your head and you wanted to get them all out. You had to.

“You don’t have to say anything more,” he kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly, “only what you want to.”

“I want to tell you everything,” you whispered, “Joel, I thought I’d be with him forever. I thought we’d grow old together and experience the rest of your lives together. But then he…he got sick, really sick. They couldn’t…do anything for him. They said it was cancer and that it was too far gone to do anything that could be helpful. They didn’t have everything they needed either. It was a fast onset, but I really wonder how long he’d felt like something was off but didn’t do anything. How long was he suffering without telling me? He was gone so quickly; it felt like I didn’t even get a chance to process everything and then he was just gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he felt his own heart break for you. He hated that you ever had to go through a single bad thing, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I lost my son and my life partner,” you pulled back and wiped at your eyes, “the two people I thought I’d have forever. And it still hurts so much.”

“All that grief,” he whispered, “is just all of that love you have inside of you. It’ll never go away, but it will get better. I still think about Sarah everyday too…and Tess. I miss them both more than anything, but I’ll always have them in my heart. Nothing will ever change.”

“You understand more than anyone,” you inhaled shakily, “you know how hard it is.”

“I do,” he agreed softly, “but it’s okay to move forward - we can’t live in the past forever. It took me a damn long time to realize that too, but it’s true.”

“I want to,” you looked at him nervously, “but I don’t know if I can. The hardest part of all is that…I can’t help falling in love with you. But I can’t be with you.”

And there it was, out in the open. All those things that he had been feeling had just been validated; he just knew that the other shoe was going to drop. He tried to control his expression as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying. 

“I can’t….I can’t do that to him,” your hands balled into fists at your side as you tore your gaze away, “I can’t just…be with someone else. It’s not fair - it’s not…fair.”

“Sweetheart,” the pet name crashed over you and that only made you cry harder. Joel Miller was such a good man that it made your heart yearn and ache for him, “it’s okay to be with someone else. And I’m not just saying that about me - for anyone you could ever be interested in. You’re not moving on, you’re not forgetting him but you’re moving forward with life. That’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“It is,” he insisted gently, “you’ll never forget him or your son or love them any less. But it’s okay to be happy and to love others. If it was the other way around, would you want him to be able to be happy and move forward?”

“Yes, of course,” you insisted with a fervent nod, “I’d always want him to be happy, even if that was with someone else in his life.”

“Don’t you think he’d want the same for you?” he asked, causing your mouth to open and close in surprise, “wouldn’t he want you to be loved, to love, and be happy?”

“It’s different-”

“It’s not,” but his response was not unkind. It was patient and loving, “you deserve all the love and happiness that you wish for others to have. I know it might be hard to accept that, fuck, it was for me too. But I…I allowed myself to fall in love with you too, and to love Ellie as if she was my own. That never once changed anything I felt for Tess or Sarah. I love them as much as ever. But I…I love you too.”

“Joel,” you were silently pleading with him, wishing you just had all the answers then and there. But it wasn’t that simple. Things almost never were, “I…can’t. I’m sorry, I just…not right now.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he touched your cheek, brushing his knuckles gently over your soft skin, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here, if and when you ever need me.”

All you could do was nod before turning on your heel and scampering away once again. This time you were left with so many more questions than answers. You had a lot to think about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late when the knocking came at his door. Joel grumbled as he got up from the couch where he’d inadvertently fallen asleep to answer the door. Since it was so late, he figured it might have been something important. 

Much to his surprise, when he opened the door, there you were. You looked up at him with nervous eyes and a sweet little smile.

“Hey,” he relaxed as he leaned against the door. It had been over a week since he’d last seen you. And honestly? He’d felt like he was dying on the inside, “what’s going on, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been thinking,” you confessed as though it was some sort of secret, “a lot. About a lot of different things. But also everything that you said. And I realized…”

He remained silent as he gave you an opportunity to compose your thoughts. He was busy trying not to scare you away again.

“I realized that you were right,” it was so quiet that Joel wasn’t sure he’d actually heard you, “you were right. I can’t go through the rest of my life being sad and stuck in the past. I have to move on, but I never have to forget.”

“Yeah?” he tried not to get too ahead of himself. For the most part, he was happy that you felt that way; he wanted you to be happy, truly happy, even if that wasn’t necessarily with him, “I’m glad you were able to work it out. You deserve it - happiness and love, all of it.”

“I know that now,” you shuffled your feet nervously, taking a moment to muster up your courage, “and I want to…Joel. I want to…I’m in love with you.”

Butterflies exploded in his stomach as his breath caught in his throat. You were serious - only this time you weren’t running away. Instead you were looking at him with determined eyes and a nervous smile. 

“Funny,” he tried to ease his and your nerves, “I’m in love with you too.”

“May I…will you…?” you couldn’t even get the words out, way too anxious and nervous to finish your sentence. But Joel, lovely and wonderful Joel, knew exactly what you were asking. He nodded tenderly, taking your face in his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

You stiffened for a moment before leaning into his and kissing him back. It felt so different than what you were used to, but also so right and lovely and amazing. When he pulled back, the two of you were grinning at each other shyly, so many unspoken things flowing between you. 

“Everything in time,” he promised gently as you leaned in kissed him again, “I’ve got you, okay? Always, I mean it.”

“I’ve got you too, Joel,” and he knew you did. He knew you were speaking from the heart, “always.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

[heartateasee]

“Four”

Word Count: 10k

(Part four of ‘Goodnight and Go’)

⋆★★⋆

*One month until the wedding*

My phone vibrates as I sit at my desk at home - working on a couple of sketches I needed to complete for some upcoming clients. I finished my apprenticeship at the shop about four months ago, and my books had been filling up more and more. It felt nice to finally be working on my own when it came to something I had been striving towards for such a long time.

I set my pencil down as I grab my phone, and I see the notification is for a text from Harry. Sucking in a deep breath, I stare at the screen - trying to decide whether or not I wanted to read what he had to say right now.

He's been trying to get me to come out for his bachelor party tomorrow, and I've been avoiding giving him a direct answer. It's not that I didn't want to go - I just didn't know if it would be in our best interests for me to do so.

These past few months had been tense between not only Gwen and I, but also between me and my mother. I was still involved in planning the wedding, but Gwen had stopped letting me hang around her place any longer than I needed to if she, Harry and I were all together. Once whatever wedding thing we were working on was finished, she made it obvious that she was ready for me to leave. I obeyed every single time - not really wanting to stick around anyway.

My mother and I were hardly on speaking terms. If she was around for any of the wedding planning, she acted like I was invisible for the most part. All of her attention was on Gwen, regardless if I was contributing my opinion to the situation or not. It was obvious she didn't care about what I had to say or suggest, and she was only going to hear Gwen out.

I was more than shocked when Gwen said that I could invite a plus one to the wedding considering Harry had invited Kieran as a separate guest now, and Kieran would be bringing her girlfriend.

For the sake of comfort, I had ended up asking Alfie to join me. I remember the night I told Gwen that I had invited him. We were working on table charts at Harry's apartment, and she seemed overjoyed that I had asked someone to come with me. It wasn't until she had stepped out of the kitchen to use the restroom that I finally met Harry's eyes after breaking the news, and he had a stern look on his face. We didn't talk about it, and we still haven't talked about it. I hope to keep it that way.

Some higher power above must have been looking out for me in terms of Gwen's bachelorette party. She was traveling to Vegas with all the bridesmaids and, of course, I was supposed to be included in all of that. An opportunity arose at the shop where they were needing volunteers for an upcoming tattoo convention in the area, and I immediately jumped in to help out. It was the same weekend as her bachelorette, and I lied. I told Gwen that I had already signed up previously before her engagement, and that there wasn't any way for me to back out because they wouldn't be able to get help last minute. I told her that it had slipped my mind until three weeks before the trip.

I expected her to be angry - to curse me out and tell me how ungrateful I was that she would even include me, and then I'd just deny her.

But she didn't.

Gwen didn't even care that I wasn't able to go, and I can't tell you how much of a relief it was to know that I wasn't going to get a mouthful from her regarding it. I knew overall she'd probably have a better time without me there anyway, but I still expected her to have something snarky to say.

During her trip away, Harry had asked if I wanted to come over to help him put together some ideas on gifts to get his groomsmen, but I declined. The last thing I needed was my mother to find out that I had gone over there when Gwen was out of town. I would've never heard the end of that.

Harry had tried to talk to me about what happened at the engagement party on a few separate occasions, but I dismissed his invitation to do so every time. I just told him that we both had alcohol in our system, and that I didn't know what I was saying when it came to separating ourselves from each other. Even though I said I didn't mean it, I know he could still feel that I was gradually doing it. It sucked because now I was the one to sporadically text him when he used to be the one doing that to me.

But it was necessary - for both of us.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, I lick over my bottom lip as I click on the notification to open up our message thread.

From: Harry 8:47 pm Hey, are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about the party tomorrow. I know you haven't given me an answer, but I'd really just like to go over the details with you.

I read over the words a couple of times to get them to register - chewing subconsciously on the inside of my cheek while doing so. Almost every part of me wanted to go, to be there for him, but something inside of me was telling me it would be a mistake to go. I had the fear of Gwen overreacting about it, or my mom using it to justify her claim of me playing some 'game' with my sister and her relationship.

Then there was the part of my brain that kept nagging me, reminding me that this could really be one of the last times Harry and I get together - just the two of us. The wedding was in a month, and after that, I knew that I would probably hardly see Gwen and Harry both.

I push myself up from my desk and head over to my couch. I lay myself down on it, staring up at the ceiling as I contemplate whether or not to call Harry, but I know that ultimately I need to.

"Here goes nothing," I whisper to myself as I press the call button next to his contact, bringing the phone up to my ear.

My fingers play with the hem of the cropped tank top I have on, my legs sprawled out across the cushions of my couch in my cotton pajama shorts. The phone rings a few times before I hear it click.

"Hey."

I close my eyes at the sound of his voice - a bolt of electricity shooting straight to my heart. My stomach stirs due to the giddiness I'm feeling just by talking to him.

My body's reaction to his just his voice was enough evidence to tell me no matter how much I tried to distance myself from him, my feelings would still remain.

"Hey you," I say back, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth.

"I'm not bothering you at work or anything, right?"

My lips turn up into a soft smile as I shake my head - even though I know he can't see me. "No, I'm just at home. Laying on the couch now, but I was working on some sketches before I called."

"Oh yeah?" I can hear the excitement in his voice, and it causes me to smile even wider. "That's fucking awesome, Carter. The shop's been treating you well since you finished your apprenticeship?"

It stung a bit to know that we hadn't really discussed that accomplishment together, but we've just never had the time to do so. My father was the only one that really talked to me about it, and even though he was hesitant about the whole tattoo thing in the beginning, I could tell that he was over the moon that I had actually completed that goal for myself.

"Really well, actually," I tell him honestly. "I've had a lot of clients come through. Some of them have even booked me on the spot for another tattoo after they see the work I can do. I'm working on two pretty decent sized pieces right now. One is a thigh piece for this girl, and the other is a quarter sleeve for this older guy. He's fucking badass, dude. The piece is for his grandchildren."

I almost hold back from saying what I say next, but I also can't help but let it slip out. "He reminds me a bit of you, actually. His one arm is completely tatted, but the arm I'm tattooing is pretty much blank except for a few here and there. He said he was keeping it clear for sentimental ones."

"Damn, no way," he laughs into the phone, and I can tell that he's smiling just as wide as I am. "Well, if he reminded you of me, how do I look as a grandfather? Tell me the truth."

I burst out laughing, tossing my head back a bit on the pillow it was resting on. "Harry, he doesn't look like you or anything!"

"Sorry, I just had to ask, you know? I hope I'm sexy when my hair is all silver and shit."

"If you have any hair left at that age," I tease with a smirk - knowing that Harry has freaked out in the past several times about going bald at some point.

"I know you didn't just say that," as angry as he tries to sound, his tone is still playful. "You better take that back right now."

I giggle softly. "Or what?"

"Then I revoke the invitation to my party," he responds, and I can see the smug look he'd be wearing on his face right now if I were to be with him.

"The party that I haven't even said 'yes' to, by the way, so your threat is a little low on the scale there."

There's a beat of silence, and I can feel that the conversation is about to shift. I close my eyes - bracing myself for what he could say next.

"Do you really not want to come? I won't make you feel bad or anything if you don't want to. I just...I don't know. I've just always pictured you being there for it since I started planning it," his voice shows vulnerability, and it initiates a tug to my heartstrings.

"It's not that I don't want to, Harry. I just don't know if it's the best idea with how things have been," I sigh, starting to pull on a stray string on my shorts.

I knew that I didn't need to elaborate on what I meant any further. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

"I've already talked to Gwen about it, and I'm not going to lie, she did try to fight me on a little bit. I let it rest for a while before I brought it up again, but I explained myself further the second time, and then she understood. She's okay with you going."

I let silence take over again for a moment as I process his words.

"I just know that we can get a little wild together," I start, closing my eyes as I drape my forearm over them. "I just don't want her to get upset if we get too drunk or something."

"It's my bachelor party, Carter. I think she expects for me to get a little wild," he chuckles. "Within reason, of course."

I'm quiet for a little longer before I speak again. "I just don't want to cause more issues than I already have."

I was never told about what happened between Gwen and Harry after I left their engagement party, and I didn't care to know. I'm sure that he got yelled at. Him being belittled or talked down to was something that I didn't wish to hear about. Harry didn't deserve that. The only person that had tried to talk to me further about everything that happened that night other than Harry was my father. He said that he wanted to hear what I had to say because he knew that my mom was probably exaggerating what she had seen.

For the first time, I opened up to my father about my feelings towards Harry. He had been none the wiser when it came to how I felt towards my best friend. I was surprised that my mother hadn't told him about what she had suspected, but he said that she had never uttered a word about it. Just like Kieran, he actually encouraged me to speak up, and as much as that warmed my heart that he now understood me, it also made me feel guilty. Guilty because now I wasn't just coming between Harry and Gwen, I was also coming between my parents.

One parent furious that I could ever feel such a way, and the other trying to steer me towards pure honesty with the one person who needed to hear my feelings the most.

"I understand where you're coming from, please know that I do, but...I know I've said it before-"

"But who knows when we'll find the time to do these things once you're married?" I ask, dropping my arm back down away from my eyes to rest my hand on my stomach. "Yeah, you may have said that to me once or twice."

I hear Harry sigh through the phone, and I curl my fingers into a fist - knuckles brushing against my skin. Never in my life have I ever been anxious around him like I have been these past few months. It was an odd feeling. I just never knew what he would say next, and I think it's because most of what we talked about had to deal with a lot of outside forces. Our friendship was now being slightly controlled by those around us.

"Yeah," Harry breathes.

My heart is slightly rattling against my chest now, and I don't even know how to respond. I want to ask why it's so important for us to spend so much time together before he's married, but I know that his answer won't match why it's so important to me.

That causes me to swallow the question down.

I try to steer the conversation away from Gwen and my mother being why I'm so hesitant so that it can grow a bit lighter. "Your groomsmen won't think it's weird that you've asked a girl to come along?"

I knew most of Harry's friends, a couple of his groomsmen were guys we had gone to college with, but a couple were also from back home in Holmes Chapel. Those were the guys I had never met before. Harry always talked about taking me there, but we never got around to it after finishing college. I had only met his parents before because they came here to visit him.

"Well, you know that Lance and Gavin will be more than happy to see you. I told them I was trying to get you to come, and they were hoping I could convince you," he huffs a laugh before continuing. "Ross and Shane are aware of who you are, and they don't think it's strange if you're there. They know how close we are - how much you mean to me."

Harry has said that last phrase so many times in our friendship, and it never ceases to cause my whole body to tingle. I know him saying that means something completely different than when I say it to him. It serves as a permanent reminder that I have to take his words for what they are - not what I want them to be.

"You don't have to stay the whole time. Even if you just come for a couple of drinks, I'll be happy. I'm actually keeping it really low-key. We're going to one of the bars that's not too far from you, I think? It's called Chemistry."

I knew of the bar he was speaking of, and he was right, it was only a couple of blocks down from my apartment.

"Yeah, that's just a little ways down from me," I run my fingers through my hair. Swallowing down my doubts, I conjure up all the courage to power through. "I'll meet you there. What time?"

"Wait, really?!" The octave of Harry's voice changes drastically, and I can tell he's both excited and shocked that I've agreed.

"Really," I laugh, still pushing my nervousness down. "Just tell me what time, H, and I'll be there."

"We're planning to meet around ten. Does that work for you?"

"That's perfect. I get off at eight tomorrow, so that gives me plenty of time to come home and freshen up before going back out."

"Fuck, okay," he laughs, and I can tell he's more than excited. "I'm so happy you agreed. You know I'd never make you feel guilty for not coming, but I just really wanted you to be there."

"I'll be more than happy to be there," I say, twirling a piece of hair around my finger. "Always want to be there for you."

"Same with you," Harry croons. "I've got to get to bed, but I'll see you tomorrow night, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then, Harry."

"Goodnight, Carter."

"Goodnight."

We disconnect the call, and I rest my phone on my sternum as I stare up at the ceiling again. I'm glad that I found it in myself to finally agree to go to his party, however, I'm just hoping that it's everything he wants. I would hate for Gwen to completely change her tune come tomorrow, and go off on Harry for having me there. I'd feel so guilty.

I push myself off the couch to head back over to my desk, and I hesitantly pull out one of the sketches I've been working on here and there lately. My fingertips brush over the paper as I stare down at the design, and I pick up my pencil to continue adding to it.

It was the heart that Harry had said he wanted after the wedding was over. The anatomical heart.

I haven't told him that I was working on this. I was hoping that I could surprise him with it once their honeymoon was over, and have it be part of a secret wedding gift.

After a couple more hours, I had put Harry's sketch away for later, and I finished up on the two that I had been working on for my clients. I store them away properly to take back to the shop tomorrow, and I head to bed - willing away the anxiousness as to what tomorrow could bring.

⋆★★⋆

I've probably changed my outfit at least ten times now, but I think I finally decided on the one I was going to wear tonight.

Standing in front of my full length mirror, I nibble on my thumbnail as I take in my appearance. I've settled on an off the shoulder flowy white top with bell sleeves, and a pair of dark brown trousers that were a bit cropped at the bottom, so I rolled them up a little more. It looked formal enough, but was still casual so it didn't look like I was trying too hard.

I straightened my hair for the first time in a while, and I also put on a little more makeup than usual. It had been a while since I had gone out at all, so I was planning on making the most of it.

Catching sight of the clock out of the corner of my eye, I realize it's half past ten. "Shit," I hiss, quickly turning to dig through my shoes in my closet to find a pair.

I decide on a pair of all white platform Vans authentics, pulling them on quickly before grabbing my jacket and my purse - throwing them onto my body as well. Racing out of my apartment, I turn around to lock it up as fast as possible before I'm heading down the street.

Thankfully it hasn't gotten too cold yet given that it's early November, but today is a bit windy, and it's drizzling - it definitely makes it feel cooler than it is. I pull my hood over my head and shove my hands into my pockets to keep them warm, although I won't be walking very far.

I had tried all day at work to keep my nerves at bay, and thankfully I had a day packed with clients so I was able to keep tonight off of my mind for the most part. This was the first time Harry and I would be around each other without my mother or Gwen watching our every move, and I hope that we can fall back into the same routine.

I just have to make sure that I remember to keep that barrier up between us.

My thumbnail swipes across my cuticle in my pocket as I walk, and I'm nibbling on my lower lip out of stress. I just don't want Harry's night to get ruined because of me coming. I'd feel so awful, and guilty if that were to happen. I just have to hope that Gwen really does stick to her word, and that she won't make a big deal about me coming.

I approach the bar and pull the door open, immediately putting my hood down as I step into the main area. My eyes search over the crowd to spot Harry, Gavin or Lance, but I'm having no such luck. There's a couple different rooms to this bar, so I'm guessing they must be in one of those that's off the side of the main room. I turn my body to make my way through the mass of people, heading towards the room to the left first as I know that's where the dart boards are, as well as the pool tables.

Finally I make my way into the new area, and I catch sight of Gavin. He's facing my direction, and I see a large smile appear on his face once we make eye contact. "Carter!"

Harry's back is to me, and he immediately whips his head around. He sends me the boyish grin that I'm so familiar with - causing my heart to flutter. There's still a good amount of people between myself and the table they've seemed to take over, but I notice that Lance is starting to make his way through the crowd to me.

"No fucking way," he chuckles as he throws his arms around me.

I laugh as I wrap my arms around him as well. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

Soon Gavin appears beside him, and I give him a large hug before we head towards the table to join Harry and his friends from Holmes Chapel - Lance's arm around my shoulders. I send a soft smile over to Harry's friends as I shrug my jacket off. I place my purse onto the table as Gavin takes my jacket, and I see he puts it on the back of the barstool with his own.

I've yet to look over at Harry since I've gotten to the table, and it's mostly because I noticed how good he looks as soon as I set my eyes on him. He's wearing a rainbow striped shirt with a pair of light washed blue jeans that are flared. Looking down at our feet, I notice that he's also wearing white Vans authentics, and I take in a deep breath - the small coincidence having me feel a certain way.

"What do you want to drink, Carter? I was just going to get a round," Lance says, and I purse my lips as I stand on my tiptoes to peer over his shoulder so I can see the beer taps.

"I'll just take a Modelo for now, please," I respond, and he gives me a nod before heading towards the bar.

I figure it's best to stick to beer for my main drink since I'm sure we'll be doing plenty of shots, and I tend to last longer on these kinds of nights if I choose not to drink a cocktail in between.

"Hey," I hear Harry's voice, and I finally look up to meet his sage eyes. "I thought you maybe weren't going to show for a second there."

He laughs softly, and I shake my head. "I told you I wanted to be here for you. I wouldn't miss this after telling you I'd be here. Time just got away from me a little bit."

He nods before stepping forward to wrap his arms around me. I close my eyes and sigh softly as I nuzzle my face into his chest. My arms find their way around his waist like normal, and I can feel his cheek pressing to the top of my head. I hate how at peace I feel when I'm in his embrace like this. We haven't hugged like this since the engagement party, and it's almost embarrassing how much I've missed it.

"Oh, I'm being so rude," I hear Harry say as we pull apart, but he keeps one of his arms around my torso as he turns us to face his two friends that I've yet to meet. "Carter, this is Ross and Shane, my friends from back home that I was telling you about."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you," I tell them, reaching one my hands out to give them each a proper greeting.

"It's nice to finally meet the infamous Carter," I hear Ross say, and I feel heat rising in my cheeks. "Felt like I already had, especially in the college years since you're all this one wanted to talk about."

He points his finger at Harry as he speaks, and I look up to see Harry blushing as well. "I talked about other things," he tries to say, but I hear Shane scoff as well.

"Yeah, okay," he says jokingly. "We both know that's a lie."

We're interrupted by Lance coming back with a tray of drinks - passing them out to each of us just as we ordered. I see that there's six shots in the middle of the tray as well and he nods to them. "Everyone grab a shot," he says before looking over at me. "We were waiting until you were here to get the first round of them."

"You guys didn't need to do that," I say, but I'm still smiling at the kind gesture. "Thank you though."

"It wasn't complete without you here," Harry shrugs as he holds my eyes - both of us with a shot glass in hand.

I don't know what to say back, and I'm fortunate that Gavin begins to speak. "Shots in the air everyone! Cheers to Harry's last big night out as a bachelor!"

We all cheers our shots together following by tapping them on the table below before tipping them back to our mouths. I wince as the liquor coats my tongue, and I swallow quickly to get the taste away as quickly as possible while reaching out for my beer. I gulp down a few good sips of it before the taste seems to dull.

"How out of commission are you, Carter? You used to drink those shots like they were water," Lance comments, and I reach my hand out to press against his cheek - pushing his face away.

"I'll leave right now if you're not nice to me," I threaten, and Harry is quick to gasp.

"Absolutely not," he says and I feel his arm snake around my waist before he's pulling me into his side. "Stop bullying Carter. She can't leave."

I stick my tongue out playfully at Lance as I curl into Harry's side, holding the pint glass in both of my hands. Gavin rolls his eyes at us before speaking.

"Here we go," he shakes his head. "Just like old times - no one fuck with Carter or else you're going to deal with Harry."

"Damn fucking straight," Harry says, holding his own beer towards me, and I smirk before tapping my glass against his.

We each take another sip of our drinks, and I notice that Harry hasn't made any movement to remove his arm from around my waist. I glance down to my side where his fingers are resting - watching as they slightly curl around my hip as he starts talking to both Ross and Shane.

I can feel a shiver run up my spine at the sensation it brings as his thumb glides over my hip bone, causing me to suck in a deep breath through my nose. This touch wasn't something out of the ordinary for us, but I had gone months without having this sort of contact with him. The absence of it was causing this moment to feel bigger than it was, and I was cursing myself internally for the way it was affecting me.

Every part of me is telling me to move away, and to let his arm fall back by his side, but I can't. It's so selfish, and I know it means way more to me to have him hold me like this. I just keep remembering that this is probably it. So, I'll take a bit of Kieran's advice for tonight, and I'll be a little selfish.

Without trying to think too much into it, I curl into Harry's side even more as I take another sip of my beer as I keep my eyes on both Ross and Shane. They're talking about how Harry is planning a trip to come to Holmes Chapel a few months after the wedding, and I find myself cringing when they bring up Gwen going with him as well. The mention of her name almost has me pulling away from Harry, but I remain.

As Harry is talking to Ross and Shane, I'm keeping up the conversation with both Gavin and Lance. I hadn't seen them in a few years, so it was nice to know what they had been up to since the last time we saw each other.

"Okay, let's take a group photo here at the table, and then there's a photo booth near the pool tables that we can take pictures in too," Lance says as he puts some of our beer glasses together onto the table to create a makeshift phone stand before doing a self-timer.

We step back from the table a bit so that we're all in the frame, and as much as I hate it, I make it a point to stand between Gavin and Lance instead of standing next to Harry. I know this photo will end up on social media, and I know that Gwen would probably blow Harry's phone up if she saw us standing in the photo next to each other.

Once we click a few pictures on Lance's phone, we gather our stuff and head over to the pool tables as the guys are talking about playing a few games. The first game was Ross and Shane against Gavin and Lance, so Harry and I stood against the wall as we sipped our beers. I was almost out, and so was he.

"Do you want me to grab you another?" I ask, looking up at him with the inside of my cheek between my teeth.

"Yeah, in a minute. Do you want to go in the photo booth? We can snap some pictures just the two of us before we take the group ones," Harry suggests, pointing over to it. "And then we can get another round."

I smile up at him, finishing up the rest of my beer as we place our empty glasses down onto the table that was near us. "That sounds like a good plan."

Harry places his hand on my lower back as we maneuver through the people to get to the photo booth, and then we step inside. I raise my eyebrows when I realize it's larger than your typical one, but you stand instead of sitting down. I watch as Harry swipes his card to start the machine, and then he goes to adjust the camera.

"Well good thing I wore my platforms today," I joke as he tries to get the right angle to get both of us since I come up just short of his shoulder. "This would be a much worse situation if I hadn't."

Harry chuckles as he gets the camera into a good spot, and then he presses the start button. I move closer to his side as I feel his arm wrap around me. Just before the first picture clicks, Harry pulls me closer and lifts me off the ground so that I'm in the frame better.

I let out a squeal as I was caught completely off guard, and I'm quick to wrap my arms around his neck. He looks up at me, his bunny teeth on full display as he breaks out into a fit of laughter. I'm looking down at him with wide eyes, and soon I'm laughing right along with him as the next picture snaps.

"Wait, hold on, let me get on your back," I state, and he puts me down quickly so I can get behind him.

With my hands securely on his shoulders, he bends down and I straddle his lower back. He lifts up while I lean my head down so my face is right next to his - cheeks pressed together. We're still dying down from our giggles as the next picture goes off. I get a little brave, and I move my hands down from his shoulders to where my hands are now pressed to the center of his chest.

Harry pulls his cheek away from mine to look up at me, and he's still wearing a big smile as we're staring into each other's eyes. At this moment, I've forgotten all about the fact that we're taking pictures. I'm so drawn in by the look that he's giving me with that expression on his face - my pulse quickening just by looking at him.

The final picture snaps, and the flash draws us both of the trance we seemed to have been in. He lowers me to the ground carefully, but instead of letting me walk away, Harry places both of his hands on my hips as he continues to stare down at me.

"I'm really happy that you came, Carter," there's such sincerity to his voice, and I can tell he means every word as he speaks them. "It just feels right having you here. It's like everything about the night is complete."

Lifting a hand up, I do what I've always done. It was a habit I told myself to break, but tonight I choose to break that rule instead. I run my fingers through the front of his curls to move them off his forehead as I tilt my head to the side.

"I'm happy I came too, H. It's been really nice so far."

We move out of the photo booth to collect our photos from the drop, and we're immediately laughing over them. There's two copies so we each take one. I'm quick to put mine into my purse so I don't misplace it, and Harry puts his in the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Another beer?" I ask him with raised eyebrows, and he nods as we begin to head towards the bar.

Once we're at the bar, I feel Harry hook his index and middle finger into one of my belt loops, and I look down at them for a moment. This was something he picked up on doing when we were in college so that we wouldn't lose each other in large crowds, and the longer we've been at this bar tonight the larger the crowd has grown.

The bartender comes over, and I'm quick to lean forward against the surface so he can hear me over both the music, and the voices. I order Harry and I another round of beers as well as a round of shots for our group. I back off the bar a bit as I look over to Harry, and I can see that he's just staring at me with an unreadable expression.

"What?" I laugh, biting down on my bottom lip.

He shakes his head, but he doesn't make any signs of looking away. "Nothing. Just..."

Harry trails off, and I tilt my head to the side. "Just?"

I may be mistaken, but it's almost like I feel Harry's fingers closing down even more around my belt loop, as if he wants to pull me closer, but we're interrupted by a call of my name.

Looking over my shoulder, I'm met with Duncan and a few of the other guys from the shop. "Oh my god, hi," I pull away from Harry as I walk over to them, giving each of them a hug. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Just stopping by for a couple of beers after a show we were at," Duncan says. "How about you?"

"Oh, I'm here for Harry's bachelor party," I say, stepping back to place my hand between Harry's shoulder blades. "You guys remember him, right? I've tattooed him a few times."

Duncan nods and steps forward, extending his hand out to Harry. "Yeah, I remember," he nods. "Nice to see you again, and congratulations on the wedding."

"Thanks, mate," Harry shakes Duncan's hand, giving a small wave to the other guys as well.

"I've got your next round of shots, alright?" Duncan asks.

"Oh, we just ordered-"

"I'll tell them to put it on my tab, and just tell them Duncan has it covered the next time you order some," Duncan interrupts me, and I smile.

"Thank you," Harry speaks up. "You didn't have to do that."

"Not a problem, man. Enjoy your night."

Duncan and the guys head off just as the bartender places our beers down, as well as a small tray with the shots on it. I pull my card out of my pocket so that I can properly start a tab for myself, and the bartender takes it - telling me they'll give it right back.

"No Alfie tonight?" Harry asks, and I let out a hefty sigh.

"He's closing up the shop. We stay open until midnight on the weekends for piercings" I state, already chugging down a few sips of beer. "And I've told you, Harry, it's not like that."

I hardly hear Harry's hum in response due to the volume around us, but I still pick up on it. The bartender comes back over to return my card, and I thank them as I grab the tray of shots while Harry takes my beer for me.

We walk back over to the other guys while Harry's chest is practically pressing against my back. He's not able to grab me in any way since both of his hands are full, so I know he's trying to keep as close as possible.

"Here we go guys!" I announce as I set the tray down on the table.

Just like before, we each take a shot and down them before the others return to their game.

I prop myself up onto the high bar stool that was by our table, and Harry drapes his arm across the back of it. "Carter."

Looking away from the intense game of pool between our friends, I look up into his eyes. "Yes?"

"Thank you for being my best friend," he exhales before running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "I don't know what I would've done without you these past few years."

I set my beer down on the table and place my hands on his shoulders. "I don't know how I possibly would've survived without you, Harry. I'm so grateful for you."

The corner of Harry's lips twitch into a soft smile, but it doesn't meet his eyes.

"Hey, you two!" Gavin's voice sounds off, and I drop my hands away from Harry as I look over for him. "Shane and Ross lost, so it's the two of you against us."

"Do I have to?" I groan, pushing myself off my bar stool.

"Yeah, does she have to? You guys know she sucks at pool," Harry says as he walks behind me, and I turn around to slap the back of my hand against his chest.

"Don't be a fucking dick."

Harry chuckles as we approach the table, and we each take a pool cue. "You guys will give us some slack since it's my bachelor party, right?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure...absolutely not."

I giggle at this answer as I hold my pool cue to my chest.

Tonight feels like old times, and I don't think that I realized I missed it as much as I do until just now.

⋆★★⋆

"See you guys in a few weeks!" I call out after Gavin and Lance as they head down the street towards the hotel they had booked not too far away from the bar.

Shane and Ross had left about an hour ago, both jetlagged from the flight as they just got in today. They would be staying here until the wedding, but they were going to be doing some traveling in our surrounding states since it was their first time in the US.

Harry and I now stand together outside of the building, and I look up to see him with a concerned look on his face as he stares down at his phone.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Ubers are so fucking expensive right now. The surge has the price way up there. It's almost 70 dollars for me to get home," he shakes his head. "Let me check Lyft."

I stay quiet as he does so, and he huffs out a groan. "Almost the same price."

Pursing my lips to the side, I choose my next words very carefully. "Well...how about you come back to mine? You can hang out until the surge ends, or you can stay the night. I don't care either way."

Harry looks over at me for a moment before he shakes his head. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, fuck off with that," I say, hooking one of my arms around his. "It's not imposing when you're my best friend. Now put your phone away and let's walk."

We start down the sidewalk, and I'm starting to feel the effects of the liquor I've drank tonight. I wasn't obliterated by any means, but I was definitely feeling the alcohol. Harry tucks his phone into his pocket, and he keeps me close as we walk.

"Did you have fun tonight?" I ask, resting my cheek against his bicep.

"I did. It was all I could've asked for, really. How about you?"

I nod in response. "I think I probably had the best time I've had in a while with everyone tonight. It's so wild to me that Lance and Grace are having a baby."

"Oh my god, I know," Harry gasps. "We make some pretty good matchmakers, huh?"

I giggle at his statement, curling more into him due to the harsh winds. "We really do."

Harry and I had set Grace and Lance up together during our final year of college. We knew they both were attracted to each other, but neither of them would make the first move. We took it upon ourselves to plan a hangout with just the four of us without telling them. At first Grace and Lance were a bit irritated, but after an hour of us all talking, it was like we had all known each other forever.

"I would say maybe I'm a little better though," I blurt out, squeezing Harry's arm into my chest. "I set you and Gwen up too technically."

It's quiet between us for a few moments before Harry speaks. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

We walk into the building of my apartment, and once we approach my door I unlock it. We head inside, both of us toeing off our shoes and shedding our jackets. "Did you want anything else to drink? I have some tequila."

"Yeah, bring the bottle over to the couch. We can just take turns swigging from it - if that's okay with you," Harry says, and I nod.

Harry plops down onto my couch, and I can see that he's manspreading out of the corner of my eye. I let my eyes dwell for just a moment before I look away - heading into the kitchen. I push onto my tiptoes to grab my bottle of tequila off the top of the fridge, and then I fill up two glasses with water. I skillfully tuck the tequila under my arm so I can bring everything over to the couch without catastrophe, and I thankfully succeed.

Smiling at Harry, I put both waters down on the coffee table with the bottle of tequila in the middle. I collapse onto the couch beside him, and I look over to him with what I know is a drunken smile on my face.

"You should just stay the night," I tell him. "Like old times. One last old time, yeah?"

If I wasn't mistaken, I see something almost resembling pain when I speak those words, but Harry quickly covers it up. "Okay, yeah, I'll stay."

"I can take the couch if you want to take my-"

"I'm not taking your bed, Carter," Harry shakes his head as he reaches out to grab his glass of water. He gulps down half of it before setting it back down. "The couch is just fine. I've spent plenty of nights on it already."

"I know," I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. "It's just...this is your night. I want it to be perfect for you."

The feeling of Harry's hand on my thighs forces me to become more aware, and I open my eyes to look over to him. "It's already been the most perfect night, I promise."

I hum as I look at him. "Well, I'm glad, H. You deserve it."

Sitting up on the couch better, I go to reach out for the tequila bottle at the same time as Harry, and we both break into a fit of giggles. "You do it," he instructs me.

I grab the bottle and pull out the cork before I shuffle onto my knees on the couch. I move closer to him, and I just let my body and mind do what they want for once when it comes to Harry these days. My hand wraps around the back of his neck, and I tilt my chin up.

"Head back," I move my torso so I'm practically hovering over him. "I'll pour it."

Harry keeps his eyes on mine as he does what I've asked. He parts his lips, and I tilt the tequila bottle so the liquor starts to drip into his mouth. I count slowly to five before I stop, but Harry is quick to swallow it all down.

"That's it?"

I roll my eyes playfully, and he snatches the bottle from me. "Your turn then."

My heart skips a bit as I lower my ass down onto the heels of my feet, and Harry moves around so he's over me just a bit. I open my mouth just as he did before I start to taste the tequila against my tongue. I breathe through my nose as the alcohol fills up, and once he stops, I swallow immediately. Groaning, I grab my water to chase it - shaking my head.

"This game sucks, why did I start it?" I choke out, and Harry lets out a loud laugh.

"It's not a game, flower," Harry sets the tequila bottle down. "We're just drinking."

Flower.

It's been years since he's called me that, and I'd honestly forgotten that he ever had. I don't dwell on it though - mostly due to my slightly intoxicated state.

"Can't believe you ever got me into tequila like this," I scold him, although I'm fully teasing. "You're my reason for many, many hangovers, Harry."

Harry reaches out and tugs at my septum piercing. "You love it, don't fucking lie."

I gasp at him, and I push back up onto my knees. "That's not fair. You don't have any piercings for me to get you back."

My eyes trace over his frame, and I smirk as I reach forward. I go to clamp my fingertips down around each of his nipples, but Harry's hands wrap around my wrists in an instant. I let out a yelp of surprise as he pulls them into his chest, and he shakes his head.

"You had four options for that, and you went with the main two? Playing it safe?"

I giggle, going to answer him, but I feel my nose knock against his as I tilt my head up to do so. I didn't realize just how close we were at the moment.

The alcohol is causing my head to swim, and I may be interpreting this all wrong, but I feel him lean in at the same time as me as we keep our sights on each other's eyes.

The next thing I know, our lips are connecting in a soft kiss.

There's a tingle that starts to evolve throughout my body as we keep the small connection - neither one of us really moving. We pull away, and the sound of our wet lips parting fills the room. I flutter my eyes open to look at Harry once again.

Opening my mouth, I go to apologize before I feel Harry's lips on mine once more, and as it deepens, his hands slide down to my forearms until they're dropping to my waist.

He hauls me into his lap, and soon the noises of our lips and tongues clashing against each other is all that bounces off the walls. I can feel my tongue ring rolling along the roof of his mouth as I tangle both sets of my fingers into the back of his curls. Our chests are flush together, and as much as I know this is wrong, the only thing I can think about at the moment is him.

The interaction becomes heated in just a few seconds, and I can feel Harry's fingertips digging into the small of my back from where my top has ridden up. I pull back as he ghosts his hand towards my stomach until he reaches the hem of my shirt. His eyes hold mine as if he's asking for permission, and I give him a nod. My arms raise above my head as he starts to lift my top off my body. He tosses it to the side, leaving me in my strapless bra as I tighten my thighs against his.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my chest heaving.

Harry's eyes look up from the revealed skin to look at my face, and he quickly nods. "Yeah, this is more than okay."

One of his large hands cups my face while the other drops to my thigh, and he pulls me down to connect our lips once more. His thumb swipes over my cheekbone as our tongues glide together.

My mind is absolutely racing, and as chaotic as it feels, I can only focus on how exactly I'm feeling. The one thing that I've wanted for so long is actually happening.

I feel Harry's hands all over me it seems. He caresses my body, treasuring it like I always knew that he would. I moan as I feel his palms encasing my covered breasts - resulting in me rolling my hips against his.

I tilt my head back with a gasp as Harry's lips trail down my jawline, and then my neck. His teeth nip at my collarbone before he works his way back up the side of my neck he didn't tend to before - lips journeying to find mine again.

Harry sucks my bottom lip between the two of his, and I moan. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I grip to his shoulders with an arched back.

"Harry," I whimper, his name muffled as he grazes his teeth along my tongue.

He soon runs his own tongue over mine to soothe the ache, and I can feel his bulge growing against my inner thigh. I trail my hands down his clothed stomach until my fingers grip to the hem of his shirt. He mimics my actions from before with his arms in the air, and I pull his shirt up and off his frame. I look down as I feel my palms in contact with muscles - my hands covering his defined abs.

"Holy shit," I'm dumbfounded at just how fit Harry has gotten. It's been years since I've seen him without a shirt, and even though he's always been very toned, this was another level.

His butterfly tattoo now accentuated his chiseled abs, and I could see the tips of the ferns peeking over the waistband of his jeans - his hips narrowing down into a 'v' shape below the denim. My hands can't stop smoothing across his torso, and I lean forward to have my lips mold against his.

As time goes on, the more I can feel my body heating up, and I want more.

I rock my hips against Harry's with more force, and a groan rattles within him that I feel vibrating back against my hands that are resting on his toned chest.

My lips venture away from his as I begin to tend to the skin of his neck like he did for me - his hands now securely on my hips as he keeps guiding me to grind on him.

"Oh, fuck," Harry moans before I begin to kiss him again.

My hands slide down to his jeans, and I undo the button and pull down his zipper as I lightly suck on the hinge of his jaw.

"That's it," he breathes. "Just like that, Gwen."

My movements cease, and it's like time completely stills as the name that isn't mine leaves his mouth.

I immediately feel tears burning in my eyes as I lift myself up to look at his face - his eyes still closed. After a moment, Harry flutters his eyes open, and he looks at me with confusion before I see the realization take over.

"Carter, I-"

"No, no," I shake my head, climbing off his lap, running a hand through my hair as I search for my shirt. I locate it and tug it over back onto my body as I wrap my arms around myself. "We shouldn't have done this anyway. That...we should just talk about it in the morning when we're sober."

"I didn't mean to, please, I don't want you to go to bed angry at me," Harry goes to reach out for me, but I move even further away.

"I'm telling you, Harry, the conversation needs to happen when we're both in a better state of mind," I tell him. "You know where everything is to get yourself situated."

Racing into my bedroom, I shut the door and press my back against it as I try to catch my breath. I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, and I give it a moment so I can gather myself before I walk into my ensuite. I've never been more thankful for having a full bathroom in my actual room until this moment.

I strip my clothes off after turning the shower on, and once the water is scalding hot, I step underneath it. I let it wash over me as I cover my face with my hands - reflecting on what just happened.

I just made out with Harry. My best friend. My sister's fiancé. The man I'm truly in love with, but he doesn't even know. The man who doesn't love me back in that same way.

Gasping to catch my breath due to how overwhelmed I was getting, I reach out to grab the bar of soap, and I start to lather my body. I continue to rub the bar over my skin again and again until I'm starting to truly scrub.

What Harry and I did just now was so wrong, and I need to scrub his touch off of me.

I exit the shower with bright red skin, and I change into my pajamas before I begin to brush my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror as I do so - pressing a little harder tonight against my gums than I usually do.

His taste is still on me, and I need to rid myself of it.

Once I finish up in the bathroom, I collapse into my bed. I pull the covers completely over my body to hide myself away. As much as I don't feel like I could get sleep after what just happened, I know the alcohol is playing a factor into me feeling tired, and I drift off to sleep.

⋆★★⋆

The next morning, I'm woken up by a muffled voice outside of my bedroom door. I groan as I glance at my phone on the nightstand, and I see it's only a little past ten in the morning. Slipping out from under the covers, I rub my palm into one of my eyes as I open the bedroom door. I recognize the voice as Harry's, and I can tell that he's on the phone with someone.

"I was at Carter's, Gwen. I was going to get an Uber but they were super expensive, and I had one too many drinks at the pub and couldn't drive. I-"

I knew how Gwen could be if she was accusing you of something. I knew that's what she was doing to Harry right now.

She hardly allowed you to speak. It's been that way my whole life. Whether she was trying to say I took a shirt from her closet, or that I misplaced her favorite lipstick - she would always get out what she wanted to say first before hearing anything else.

"You don't believe that I'm actually here at her place right now? Do you want me to go and wake her up because I can? Where else would I-"

I can now hear Harry shuffling around my living room which makes it a little harder to hear the conversation. I'm sure he's trying to gather his things.

"Yeah, I'm about to leave right now. I'll take an Uber back to my car. I'll see you soon."

I give it a few more seconds before I make my presence completely known, and I walk out into the living room to see Harry already by my door - slipping into his shoes.

"Are you already-"

Harry cuts me off before I can even finish my sentence. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Gwen is pissed, and she's not going to hear me out until we're face to face."

I look down at my hands at I fiddle with my fingers, brushing my thumbnail against my cuticle out of a nervous habit. "I was going to fix us breakfast, and then I was going to drive you back to your car at the bar."

"I appreciate that, Carter, but I can't stay. I'll...I'll talk to you later."

I look up just in time as Harry slips out the door, and I feel my heart sink into my stomach.

He didn't even look at me once before he left.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles ff

[badaleesbish]

Toxic ° 2 | Bada Lee x Reader

°SUMMARY:

" 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌."

" 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌."

~ 𝙺𝚎𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚒 - 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌

°CW:

𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳‼️ 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂‼️

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"Bada, don't start your shit with our child here."

Bada turns towards the small girl who is sitting on the floor playing with her dolls and bends down to her level.

"Baby girl, will you go to your room so Mommy and I can talk?"

"Okay, but hurry, I want to go see Aunt Tatter."

"Okay, sweet girl, it will be quick."

You and Bada watched as your daughter skipped off to her room, but once she was out of sight, Bada started her shit once again.

"So Imma ask you again. Where the fuck are you going?"

"Out."

"Dressed like that?"

You placed the finishing touches on your makeup and outfit of choice as Bada stood there waiting for a response to her question. You stood up from your vanity, gathering your belongings, and headed towards your bedroom door, but Bada stepped in your way, causing you to damn near run into her chest.

"Bada, please move. I don't want to fight."

"I don't want to fight either. I just don't want you to go out dressed like that."

"Bada, she'll be here soon. Just let me say bye to my baby."

As you tried to step around Bada to walk out of the room, Bada grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards her, bringing you close to her chest. The grip around your arm tightened as you tried to pull away from her.

"Bada.... let go of me. You're hurting me."

"Who is she?"

"My date, Bada."

Bada clenched her cheek, hearing those words come from your mouth. She didn't like it. It pissed her off. You are hers. No one else can have you and treat you the way she can.

"You're not going."

"Yes, I am. Now, let me go."

"No... you can't do this to me. Baby, please. I need you."

"NO, I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR SHIT ANYMORE, BADA LEE! NOW, LET! ME! GO!"

"Baby..."

As Bada began to speak, a small voice calling out stopped her, dropping your arm as she turned to see the face of her daughter appearing with tears streaming down her little face.

"Mama..."

"Oh, baby, don't cry."

"Why are you and Mommy being mean to each other?"

Your heart began to break as you watched your daughter cry her little eyes out. You walked over picking up your daughter as she cried into your neck. You looked Bada, shaking your head at her actions that caused this whole thing, her anger. Bada stood there with tears in her eyes as she was completely shocked at her own actions and that she made her daughter cry.

"Bada... I think it's time for you to leave."

"My love... I'm so..."

"Just stop, Bada. Leave. Now."

As Bada walked out of your bedroom towards the front door. She could hear your daughter calling out her. Bada gripped the door knob as tears fell from her eyes, leaning her body against the door. As much as she wanted to turn back and try to pick up all the broken pieces of the family picture that had been picked up and put back together over and over again, she couldn't at least not right now.

"MAMA... MAMA..."

Bada opened the front door of your apartment, slamming it behind her, causing the family picture on the wall to crash to the floor.

"I can't sit around and watch you love someone else. I feel like I'm in the way of what you really want."

"Aiki, where is this coming from? I've only been with you in the past month."

"Tell me the truth..."

"I am! I don't know what more you want, Aiki."

Aiki pulled two pregnancy tests from her pocket and shoved them into your face. Your eyes widened as the tests were pushed into your face. There was nothing for you to say. You made this bed, and now you have to lay in it.

"So you're pregnant. You've been sleeping with her."

"Aiki..."

"I am so sick of picking up the fucking pieces after that bitch shatters your heart over and over again."

"Aiki, I'm sorry."

"That's all you have to say... 'Sorry'. Like it's going to fix this shit."

"Baby, please. I was just lonely, and she came over... everything happened so fast."

"So what? You fuck her every time she shows up at your door."

"No..."

"You know what, I'm done. I'm not about to be your second option to a bitch that breaks you down any chance she fucking gets."

Aiki threw the test down and began to gather all her belongings around your apartment as you follow behind her.

"Aiki, this isn't fair."

"What's not fair? You're getting what you want, right?"

"No, because I want you. That moment meant nothing to me, and I regret it."

"I don't believe you. You're just going to go right back to her every time. Love, you can't have your cake and eat it too."

"Aiki, please don't do this to me."

"Goodbye, love."

Aiki placed a peck onto your forehead before walking towards the door, but you grabbed her arm to pull her back to you. Gripping onto her shirt as your tears soaked her shirt. As much as it pains her, Aiki removed your hands from her body and walked out the door as your sobs grew heavier.

You knew everything Aiki said was true. It's like Bada had this grip on you. Her poisonous fangs were sink into you more and more, and you need her poison to survive in a way. You can't love anyone else, have anyone. She is the one. The only one.

You sat on the couch of your quiet apartment, staring at the blank television in front of you as tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn't even sob anymore only allow the tears to fall in silence. A light knock at your door knocked you from the silence trance like state you were in. You shuffled to your feet, slowly walking towards the door opened to see the face of the person that hurt you the most but you loved the most.

"Hey..."

"Hi..."

You stepped aside, allowing Bada to walk into your apartment. Without utter a single word, Bada wrapped her arms around your body, pulling you into her warm embrace as you began to break down in the arms of your ex lover. Bada placed light pecks on the top of your head as she tried to keep her cry silence.

"I'm so sorry, my love. So so so sorry."

As you sobbed her arms, you felt yourself growing angry. She is the reason you are this way. She is the reason why Aiki left. She is the reason you can't love. She is the reason you can't leave. She is the reason for everything.

You pushed Bada away causing her to stumble back a bit. You wanted to hurt like she hurt you, crush her heart like she crushed yours. Your fist pound against her chest as you looked her through the tears in your eyes.

"You did this to me."

"I can't have anyone because of you."

"And I hate you for that."

"I hate you, Bada Lee."

Every blow to Bada's chest made her stumble as you took your anger and rage out on her. Every word broke Bada's heart, the fact that she caused you this much pain and didn't stop. Just kept shattering your heart knowing that every time she left you, she took a piece of your heart with her.

"I hate you for making me love you so much, Bada Lee."

"Why couldn't you just love me, Bada Lee?"

"Why?"

As you lifted your fist to strike Bada once more, she grabbed you wrist stopping you before the impact. Bada brought your hands to her lips placing kisses along your knuckles as you try to pull away. Bada pulled you towards the couch and released your wrist, allowing you the sit down as she sat next to you with her head in her hands. She ran her hands over her face, wiping away her tears as she took a deep breath before speaking.

"I know that there is nothing that I can say that would fix this mess that I caused."

"I just want to know why. Why did you leave me? Why did you cheat on me? Why couldn't you love me as much as I loved you?"

"There's no excuse for the cheating or leaving you, but I have always loved you. Never stopped loving you."

"Well... what was that shit earlier today? You have never done something like that to me as long as we have been together. Honestly, it kinda scared me."

"I was so angry that there was someone else giving you the love and affection that I should have been giving you. Like someone was in my spot. I am so sorry for putting my hands on you, hurting you, and scaring you and our babygirl. I am so sorry."

You sat there listening as Bada's pleads her case, taking in this moment. This is something that was really needed. Some type of closure on your very toxic relationship with Bada. Even though you didn't get the reason behind the cheating, you were just glad that Bada was finally realizing that pain that she has caused the family the two of you created together.

"Again, I know there is nothing that I can say to fix this, but I need my family back. You keep me sane."

"We need you here with us, but how will I ever trust you again?"

"We can start over from the beginning of our relationship, and I'll keep my distance until you're ready to move forward."

"Okay, but I have something to tell you, and I hope it doesn't scare you off again."

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, positioning your body to face Bada. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated, glance fell into your lap as you began to fidget with your fingers. Bada gently placed her hand over yours, her thumb grazed over the palm of your hand. You glanced up to Bada as she gave you a warm smile.

"You can tell me, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. Forever."

You placing your hand into Bada's, interlocking your hands with one another before taking a deep breath to speak.

"Well... I'm pregnant and it's yours. I haven't been with anyone else, sexually anyways."

A smile creeped onto Bada's lips as she leaned in, placing a kiss upon your lips.

"I guess I have three babies to take care of now."

"I guess so. I love you, Bada."

"I love you too, my love."

That's all you wanted to hear from Bada.

She LOVES you.

She meant it this time.

That's all Bada wanted.

Her family back.

She meant it this time.

A/N:

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍! 💙

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 #team bebe #SoundCloud

[miraclesabound]

Just What You Needed

Summary: Your ex finds you while you're having a night out to yourself at The Bear. Thankfully, the staff, including a particular waiter with blue eyes, help keep you safe.

Pairings: Past F!Reader/M!OC, Richie/F!Reader, pre-relationship

Warnings/Tags: Past abusive relationship, attempted kidnapping, assault, Neil Fak being a brief badass, canon-typical language, mention of police, mention of alcohol, Reader getting nickname privileges, first kiss, plans for a first date. Set after Season 2

@grogusmum, @nolita-fairytale, @foreveraimingtowardsthesky, @phoenixhalliwell, @cinewhore, @pettyprocrastination

It's a sultry September night, and as your heels clack along the pavement, you breathe in the warm air. Taking a walk is just what you needed today, even if you weren't already on your way to have dinner at The Bear. Coming to the restaurant in question, you open the door and walk in.

A smartly dressed blonde woman greets you at the host stand, and when you give your information, she brings you to a table close to the door, where you can still enjoy the breeze as the door opens and closes.

There are amazing smells and sounds all around you, and you're thankful for the menu so that you can parse what you're noticing. After maybe two minutes, you hear someone walk up, and you can't help smiling when you see him.

You've never been to this place, you don't know any of the staff - but something about your waiter (he introduces himself as Richard) immediately puts you at ease. After making sure you have a bread plate, he runs through the menu and the specials list for you. His blue eyes are alight with his obvious passion for his job, and between those eyes and his fitted suit, he's making a delightful impression. After reviewing your options, you decide to get a soup appetizer to start and then you'll have a steak entree.

You've just finished your soup when you think you hear someone yell your name outside. You look up, and your heart pounds when you see your ex, Graham, peering into the window. What on earth is he doing here??

Graham throws the door open and storms past the hostess, who does her best to stop him, but he shrugs her off like she's a fly bothering him. He zeroes in on you, and you can smell the alcohol fumes off of him. "Where the fuck have ya been?" he slurs.

Even in your fear, you're infuriated at his assumptions. "Been???" you hiss. "We've been broken up three months, where I've been isn't your concern."

"We're gonna have a talk," he says, and before you can stop him, he grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet. With your heels on, you teeter, and you worry you're going to wrench your ankle. Where the hell is Richard??

--

Richie is in the kitchen with Neil waiting for your entree to come up when he hears you scream for help. Running out, they see you getting pulled away, and that the man who's grabbing you is swatting at Natalie when she tries to get in and help.

Richie wants to tear the guy apart, and Neil must see it in his face, because he puts a hand in front of him. "Dude, you can't catch another assault charge - I'll get the guy, you help Nat with the girl, yeah?"

--

No one can get to you and Graham, and you're genuinely afraid that he's going to take you somewhere and hurt you or worse. Suddenly, a large blur knocks into him, and when you stumble, two sets of arms catch you around the waist, helping you sit down. You realize it's Richard and the hostess helping you, and a large waiter who must outweigh Graham by at least a hundred pounds currently has him in a headlock. Other staff members have come out of the kitchen, and you see someone with a phone out, hopefully calling 911.

Richard taps you on the shoulder and you look at him, focusing on the sapphire flame in his eyes. "Hey, talk to me - is your arm ok?" he asks.

You roll up your sleeve and wince - you can see bruising. "Better wait for the paramedics," you tell him. You look back over - the big guy now has others helping him and you can tell they aren't going to let Graham get anywhere near you again.

"Think you could stand to eat? Your steak was just about ready before this all went down."

You nod. "Yeah, that sounds good - and maybe I should get another gin and tonic while I'm at it."

"I'll get those for you," the hostess says, "and I'll tell Carmy and Syd what happened. Cousin, you got her?"

"Yeah, Nat, I do." As Nat (you wonder if it's short for Natalie or Natasha) walks off, you find yourself leaning heavily on Richard's arm. Thankfully the police and paramedics show up quickly and it's clear who the aggressor was.

--

Richard stays by your side the rest of the evening, even when you know he must have other tables he's looking after. You worry that the other diners may resent you, but whenever you look around, anyone who sees you offers a look of sympathy.

Carmen and Sydney also come to check on you, and you promise them that you don't blame the restaurant for Graham attacking you. That said, you don't argue when Carmen tells you he'll comp your meal. The last thing you want to do is seem ungrateful, especially when so many people came to your defense.

After a luscious dessert, you figure it's time to get on your way, but when you tell Richard this, he says, "Tell me you're not walkin' home??"

"Richard, it's fine, I live close," you insist. "And the weather's still nice."

"Call me Richie," he says. "Please, sweetheart, humor me? We can get you a cab, no problem."

You've always liked the name Richard, but you can see now that "Richie" suits your blue-eyed friend much better. "Ok, Richie."

He helps you up and walks with you to the cab stand, hailing the first one that rolls up and arranging the payment. "Think you'd be willing to visit us again?" he asks. "I can promise it would be more calm."

You smile and kiss his cheek. "Well, Nat would have my reservation info - so let me know if something opens up?"

"Sounds like a date, sweetheart."

Once you're on your way, Richie heads back inside - and if the others see the faint print of lip gloss on his cheek, they keep their thoughts to themselves for once.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie the bear