#and I know you don't want to respond until later alex but I wanted to get this up in case I forget

[earlgreyflowers]

39. we’re not just friends and you know it with max x teammate!best friend! reader. please and thank you!

A/N time for some Max appreciation besties <3

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Max was starting to think he was the most readable person on earth, with every single member of the paddock seemingly pointing out how obvious his crush on you was.

"Dude, your eyes are literally always on them." Daniel laughs, nudging Max with his elbow as they walk. Max feels a blush rise to his cheeks, "Are they? I haven't noticed." He mutters, his eyes glued to your figure as you talk to GP in the Red Bull garage. Daniel shakes his head, following Max's eye line to meet the shape of you, now waving at your best friend. Max breaks out in a large grin, waving back at you before speeding up to join you sooner.

"He's so obvious." Charles says, rolling his eyes at his childhood rival. "We need to get involved." Daniel states, "Let him know that we all know, and to make a goddamn move already before someone else does." Charles nods in agreement, "I'll let Carlos know the plan."

Daniel smiles, "Perfect, he'll tell Lando and then Lando will tell everyone."

"I'll tell everyone what?" Lando asks, appearing from nowhere. "That Max is in love with Y/N." Charles explains, watching Max interact with you. "Oh been there, done that. I told everyone like two weeks ago, catch up guys." Lando explains, leaving the two smirking that their plan was apparently already in action.

It's a week later when Lando brings the subject up to Max. They're out playing padel, and you're sat on a bench with a book, soaking up the sun and attempting to ignore the yells of Lando and Alex. Lando and Max are stood by the net, casually chatting whilst George and Alex get some water. "So, do you like Y/N or something?" He asks, head tilted at Max as he fumbles his words trying to respond.

"Why would you think that? Me and Y/N? What? How could you think that?" He blurts, hand scratching the back of his neck as he avoids eye contact with Lando, eyes glancing over to you to make sure you're not listening. "You keep staring at her like you're in love with her man, all heart-eyes and gross." Lando explains, causing Max to scoff out a nervous laugh as George and Alex rejoin them.

"Are you talking about Y/N?" Alex asks, smiling when Max gets impossibly more flustered. "So you can all tell then?" Max asks, nervousness overtaking his tone. "Yes, you look at her like she created the universe," George says, "And also you look like you want to kill us whenever we speak to her." He concludes, eyebrows raising at Max in an accusatory manner.

"I need to tell her don't I?" He asks, a resounding yes coming from the group.

The thought of telling you how he felt was eating Max up inside, making him cold and distant towards you. Every weekend you could be you were in the Red Bull garage, a large 33 sprawled across your back as you cheered him on. Max barely acknowledge you during these weekends, instead insisting that he's not happy with the performance of the car and needs to focus on being faster. You roll your eyes, "Sure, you've won 8 races in a row but you need the car to be faster. I'm not stupid Max." You tell him before leaving the paddock without him and heading back to the hotel.

Max sits in the garage glumly after you leave, cowering away from the disappointed head shakes that Daniel sends his way after he sees you leave. He doesn't register anything until he finds himself outside your hotel door, hand raised ready to knock. Before he can make contact with the wood of the door it swings open, revealing his very mad best friend, you.

"I know you're mad at me, please let me in and I can explain." Max grovels, eyes wide with sadness as he pleads for you to humour him. You say nothing, stepping aside and letting him walk in, his shoulders visibly relaxing at your kindness. You sit on the edge of your hotel bed, watching as Max paces the room. You want to stand and help him, bury yourself in his chest until he calms down but you need him to explain himself.

"Did I do something?" You ask quietly, Max halting in his movements. "No, no Y/n you could never do anything." He says, standing in front of you. His hand rests under your chin, tilting your head towards him. He stares down at you, an unrecognisable glint in his eye.

"Then why have you been so distant with me Max? I just- I can't do this." You explain, eyebrows crinkling in worry. "Do what?" He asks, thumb swiping gently back and forth against your chin as he forces you to look at him. "I can't lose my best friend." Max's eyes close at your words, jaw clenching. "That word." He murmurs, frustration seeping into his tone, "I hate that word."

"What word? Lose?" You ask, confusion growing by the minute. Max takes a deep breath, "Friend." He tells you, your heart dropping at his words.

"We're not just friends, and you know it." He explains, "You know that you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my support system. Yes, you are my best friend, of course you are. I could never picture my life without you by my side, but that's not because you're my best friend. It's because I'm in love with you."

Your eyes widen at his words, smile creeping over your lips. "I knew telling Lando would work." You laugh, "He can't keep his mouth shut." Max looks at you in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I told Lando how much I liked you, how much I loved you, and he told me to leave to him, clearly whatever he did worked." You smile, watching as Max mirrors the same smile. "You're lucky I love you, je nachtmerrie." You giggle at his words, "Say it again." You request, voice dropping to a whisper as Max leans in.

"I love you schatje."

His pillowy lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, your stomach churning with pleasure as you slip your hand behind his neck. He follows your lead, deepening the kiss and swirling his tongue with your own. You surrender yourself to him, allowing his tongue to dominate your own as he leans toward you. He breaks his lips from yours before attaching them to your neck, sucking and biting as he explores your body.

You feel the vibrations of his soft groans against your skin, relishing in the fact that he can finally touch you the way he's always wanted. "Been waiting so long for this dropje, can I do everything I've been thinking of?" He asks, kneeling down in front of you as his hands slide under your hoodie. You nod, smiling at your best friend as he lifts your hoodie. He licks his lip, trapping at between his teeth with a muted groan as he sees the lack of bra underneath your clothes.

"So pretty, my god." He mutters, lips meeting the soft skin in between your breasts before traveling over the mounds. His large hands encompass your chest, kneading and squeezing your tits as his tongue swirls around your nipples. You whimper at the feeling, expressing your pleasure with a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. Your nipples are hard from a combination of his tongue and the cool air circulating the room, your back arching at the tingly pleasure shooting down your spine.

His lips trail down your stomach, leaving a wet line cooled by the breeze, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Max's fingers edge into the band of your shorts, tugging them down. He groans at the lack of underwear there too, evidence that you had showered when you got back from the track. Max places kisses on your inner thighs, smirking when your muscles clench at the feeling of his lips. He admires the way your pussy glistens under the light of your lamp, the sheen of wetness making his mouth water.

He licks his lips before hovering closer to your core, the tickle of his breath causing your walls to clench around nothing. Max groans at the movement, "Are you desperate schatje?" You whine at his question, bucking your hips toward his face.

"Please Max, need you."

He smirks at your whiny tone before flattening his tongue against your pussy, using the muscle to split open your folds. He moans against you at the taste, his tongue swirling around your clit. You watch as he pulls his face away, a string of your juices connecting his lips to you. His eyes have darkened beyond recognition, lust clouding his senses. Max dives back in, tongue flicking and sucking every inch that it can reach.

He pays attention to what makes you moan louder, what makes your walls clench and your thighs tighten around his head. He's certain that he could die a happy man between your legs, drowning in the sweet juices that coat his tongue. He seals his lips around your clit, sloppily slurping and sucking as you squirm above him. The tip of his finger swirls around your wetness, soaked now in both arousal and spit just like Max's chin.

He feels the way your pussy jumps at his touch, slipping his finger in gently, curling it up against your g-spot. The moan you let out his heaven to Max's ears, his cock throbbing in his jeans as he seeks friction for the ache.

"Fuck Max, you're gonna make me cum." You whine, hand raking through Max's hair as you pray he never stops. He groans louder at the force of your hand against his head, doubling his efforts until all that can be heard in the room are your moans and the wet sounds of his tongue between your legs. He flicks his tongue as fast as he can, ignoring the burn in his jaw and the need to breathe as he gets smothered by your thighs. He's rewarded when your orgasm hits, flooding his tongue with the taste of you as your hips flinch in sensitivity.

Max stands from the bed, quickly ridding himself of his clothes. In your hazy state you still manage to admire him, the thickness of his thighs, the bulging muscles in his arms, his toned stomach. But it's the soft smile on his face that you can't help but reciprocate that sends butterflies floating in your tummy and a shiver down your spine.

He clambers back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows above you. Max's lips slot against your own, the faint taste of your cum making its way into your mouth with every swirl of his tongue. Your soft hand wraps around the base of his cock, slowly sliding up before swiping your thumb over the weeping tip. You bring your thumb up to your mouth, sucking it into your mouth and relishing in the salty taste of his precum.

Max's eyes widen at the sight, practically whimpering at the realisation his biggest wet dream is coming true. "You're amazing," he utters, voice thick with desire. "Please tell me I can fuck you schatje, I need to feel you." You barely grace him with a verbal answer, grasping his cock and guiding him towards your entrance.

He thrusts himself forward, his thick tip stretching your walls. Your back arches at the mixture of pleasure and pain, eyes fluttering shut. Max's head drops down to your shoulder, body shuddering with a groan as he feels the warmth of your pussy.

"I've wanted this for so long, dreamt of it so many times," He whispers against your skin, sucking a purple mark as he bottoms out. Your walls encase him like a vice, his eyes practically rolling with every slow grind of his cock into your pussy. Your legs wrap around his hips, encouraging his deep strokes, nails scratching against his muscular shoulders.

You're surrounded by Max, his scent clings to you as he fills you up, feeling him in the depths of your stomach with each thrust. You slip your hand between the two of you, rubbing against your swollen clit as the wet noises of your pussy echo through the room. Max frowns at the feeling of your hand bumping his stomach.

He leans back from his position crouched over the top of you, knocking your hand from your pussy and making you whine. "Max please." You beg, desperate to cum one more time.

"I know, I know, but you have me know you don't need to do that." He explains, splaying his large hand across your stomach, his thumb dipping down to swipe against your clit. His rhythm increases, thrusting harder and faster into you, your arousal spilling out around his cock. "Cum for me schatje come on, not gonna stop until you do." Max mutters, hitting that spot inside you with every drag of his hips.

Your jaw drops and your eyes roll as your orgasm washes over your body, goosebumps covering your skin in its wake. Max barely lasts long enough to prolong your orgasm before he pulls out, stroking his cock until white ropes of cum splash over your stomach. He groans with each pulse, his arm dropping as he struggles to hold himself up.

He slips off the bed, returning with a towel from the bathroom to clean you up. He sidles up next to you, bundling you up in his arms, encasing you in his warmth.

"I love you, always have." He whispers, assuming your deep breaths as a sign of sleep, a smile gracing his face as you cuddle deeper into him.

Thanks for the help, is the text Lando receives before Max goes to sleep

No problem, heard it went well for you, is the reply Max sees when he wakes up.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #smut prompts #smut requests #smut writing #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #mv33 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv33 #mv1 #mv33 smut #mv1 smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you

[mywritingonlyfans]

Your Boy. // Alex Turner X Reader! (Smut)

prompt: reader feels briefly insecure and alex is there to listen to her. (some fem oral, riding, missionary and some more comfy and goofy and sex stuff)

words: 3.1K

a/n: this fic was originally written with alex, but yes i posted it here before intended for someone else. but since i'll be posting it on wattpad i thought it was fair to post here as well.

You appeared distant, your gaze unfocused, but it was evident that your unease had nothing to do with sadness caused by him. Silence filled the car, a departure from the usual comfort it provided between you. Your eyes were fixed on the road, avoiding his, a shift that had taken place sometime before leaving the party. As he drove, he lightly brushed his fingers over your knees, his touch gentle, leaving his hand there for reassurance once he realized that you weren't feeling unwell because of him. The guitar calluses traveled the place with dexterity, meant for you. Your delicate hand touched his, fingers playfully interlocking, and you found solace in that simple contact. He found himself smiling gently at the gesture.

"Do you want to talk, doll?" he inquired, acknowledging your discomfort. You shook your head, still displaying signs of a troubled mind. He respected your response, considering revisiting the topic at a later time. It was intriguing to think that even with his eyes half-closed and his fists clenched, he could sense that something was amiss with you. He disliked seeing you worried, getting a sight of you like that did that to him.

Upon arriving home, things unfolded as usual. He shed his blazer as you removed your coat, and in the midst of heavy breaths, he embraced you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms wrapped around you with tenderness before you pulled back slightly. No words were exchanged, but he stood there with you. Persistent tears welled in your eyes, emotions too strong to contain. You had hoped to avoid this; thinking that you would just sleep with him intertwined the way you loved, and by morning, everything would be clear. However, you now felt that you couldn't do that, you needed his extra warmth to help this pass, even if you wished it could just go away on its own.

In your mind, avoiding moments like this would possibly make you seem more mature in his eyes. But all he really wanted was for you to feel comfortable enough with him, that any of your concerns could be shared with him. After all, he loved you, and it was only fair that you’d both be a safe space for each other. Cupping your face, he carefully kissed you, and you responded with slow, pleasurable movements, allowing him to guide you through it. Gradually, he kissed away your tears, until a soft smile broke through your silent deep sighs. You embraced him, seeking comfort in his chest, finding his embrace unlike any other. He kissed the top of your head in silence, waiting until you let go calmly.

"I feel so silly," you whispered, wiping your cheeks with your hands and allowing his eyes to comfort you. In truth, he held no judgment in them.

"You're not," he said, his voice strong, sharp accent yet comforting. It could whisk away your worries and clear your mind. "If it's bugging you, then it ain't silly," he added, his hands resting easy on your waist, fingers pressing gently. He motioned for you to settle on his lap as he made himself comfy on the couch near the entrance. A soft chuckle slipped from you, and his gaze locked onto yours. This time, the silence felt easygoing, and you held his eye until you felt like talking. He had a knack for calming you down.

"I'm kinda feeling a hint of jealousy, not a big deal, but it's niggling at me. But I want you to know it's not 'cause I don't trust you. That ain't it," you explained. Your body was rigid and your hands cold. He nodded, giving you space to keep going if you wanted. A shiver trickled down your spine as you held him closer, the hug cozy, every inch of his frame against yours. You could feel the warmth of his chest as he responded with a comforting sigh. Despite the run-in with that woman who'd tried to get his attention earlier, he hadn't even hesitated to brush her off. By now, he'd forgotten what her face looked like.

"I'm all yours," his words felt like a lullaby, urging you to nestle into the crook of his neck, his scent enveloping you as he molded himself around you. The way he said it, so sure and free of doubt, soothed you. You held on tighter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he chuckled softly and shifted to make sure you were comfy. Slowly, his hands started to wander over your dress. Even though it was kinda sensual, his touch and the way he looked at you were more about admiration than anything else.

"I get that," you giggled, your cheeks turning a bit hot as you admitted it. You knew he'd never given you reason to doubt. He nodded and his fingers brushed your chin, his brown-puppy eyes tracing every feature on your face. "I'm having trouble wrapping my head ‘round it, babe," a tiny wrinkle formed between his brows, showing his confusion. A gentle kiss from you smoothed it out.

"She was pretty attractive, and she's your age," you sighed, your words getting caught in your throat. "I get you don't really care about that stuff, ‘bout her, but you can't always predict who you might fall for, you know? And it scares me that it could happen, even if I can't explain why it’s bothering me so much right now..." He listened close, catching some of it, and he felt grateful you were sharing your feelings with him, even with you worrying over nothing. But he couldn't lie that he had his own fears about losing you and he'd circled around these thoughts sometimes too. Seeing you upset tugged at his heart.

"I love hearing what's on your mind," his warm hands traveled up your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze as he pulled them closer. He wanted you to feel heard. You nibbled your lip, a tingling creeping up your face. He chuckled, like you both knew where this was heading. "I think you're perfect, this dress makes you even more stunning, and I love how confident you get when you're with me. And I love how you look at me," his cheeks and nose had a cute flush. His voice dropped low, like it was meant for you only, and you laughed with your eyes at him.

It was good to watch because most of all, he was still shy, and it was remarkable, but he wanted to see you well.

"Do you ever think you might fall for someone else?" His question had you shaking your head right away. You couldn't imagine finding anyone even close to him, or even having room to think about it. "I know I couldn't. I'm so caught up thinking about you, there's no space for anyone else. And I love that," you nodded, his words resonating deep inside. As you brought his lips to yours, you relished the surprised sigh that escaped him. Although the kiss ended softly, he held your face firmly, his earlier intention still clear in his mind since leaving the house.

"You're my girl," he affirmed, brows serious and jaw clenched. Your blood was already pumping through your veins at that declaration. Your fingers found the first buttons of his shirt, undoing them coolly and freeing a bit of his bare skin while his words echoed in your head, his gaze intently fixed on you. Your hands slipped inside his shirt, and he relaxed as he felt you trail your touch from his chest hair to his shoulders. "Can I unbutton all of them?" you asked sweetly, anticipation lacing your voice. God, he wanted to show you right there that there'd never be anyone for him but you. He nodded, your trembling fingers undoing the last few buttons. It was cute how you got a bit flustered in these initial moments, as if you'd never been there before. He could never get much of that.

"I sorta need you," your breath hitched, and he chuckled, understanding. "I can feel it, little one," he took your hand in his and kissed it, then you traced the sharp line of his cheekbone and ran your thumb over his redness. He closed his eyes, and you found yourself melting into his embrace, adoring the more pronounced lines of his expressions, the way they smiled and relaxed along with him, making it clear that he didn't regulate his age with yours. But it was lovely. He was so attractive, in a way that was hard to keep up with when he was this close. You brushed his hair away from his face and touched your lips to his forehead, placing kisses along his nose, cheeks and down his neck, and over his shoulders until you found your way to his chest. Your body was restless, and while you might not have recognized it, he could feel the heat building beneath you. He let out a low grunt, spreading out across the seat as you wriggled on top of him, peppering him with kisses and playful bites.

"I think I should show you just how much you're my girl, don't you think?" His voice was firm, sending shivers to your soul. His hands were thicker, more striking than yours, and you couldn't help but notice the contrast. He motioned for you to stand in front of him, and you obliged. Things moved in their own time, but in your perspective, everything seemed to slow down, your stomach churning at the mere thought.

"I don't want any bad thoughts lingering in your head, not even the most fleeting ones, got it?" Still seated, he lifted the hem of your dress, placing wet kisses on your thighs until he reached your lower belly. His nose nuzzled into your skin, so gentle it made you feel slightly guilty for being this desperate. Alex chuckled as he observed how readily you lifted the fabric to give him better access, and with his eyes on you, he trailed his fingertips along your pulsating nerve, seemingly begging for his touch. You pulled back a little, but he shook his head. "Don't move, little one," he anchored your hip with a firm grip, his fingers circling the area, your body involuntarily pressing into his touch for more. He let out a deep, drawn-out sigh as he felt you make his tips sticky through the thin fabric. His throat tightened as his temples throbbed, his body yearning to feel you melt under his mouth as you always did so wonderfully.

Without dragging it out for too long, as he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it for much time, he delicately interlocked his fingers with the hems and pulled them down. His lips moistened as he saw the lace peel off you with some difficulty due to how damp it was. And sure, there was indeed a wet patch on your panties. For balance, you grasped his shoulders, squeezing eagerly with a pleading gaze, and he shut his eyes, kissing the area, his mouth watering and devoid of prior thoughts. He held you firmly in place and licked from the center up, gathering your essence on his tongue, his eyes closing in pure pleasure at being able to feel you. Yours clenched shut, and your mouth fell open as you experienced the warm sensation and perfect pressure of how he sucked you, as if it truly granted him as much bliss as it did for you.

You gently grasped the back of his head, urging him closer, and you could sense him smiling as you struggled to remain composed for him. As you caressed his soft hair, he nuzzled the tip of his nose against your clit before sucking it between his lips, causing you to moan so wantonly. He was already a mess, lost in your scent and taste enveloping him, while you panted breathlessly. When you opened your eyes and saw his hair, those delicate tresses, both ash and dark intertwined in a chaotic dance, you became a bit more alert, tugging on the strands to have him look at you. He deserved your attention that night too; you didn't want this to go unnoticed.

With his eyes locked onto yours, your body still trembling, you found your words stuck in your throat. He was just as desperate as you, though he concealed it well. The snug trousers he wore due to his position, and the zipper left open, which you only noticed now, made you wonder how uncomfortable he was. "Can I ride you, babe?" You were soft and mesmerizing to him. He appreciated how you always asked, an act so delicate for such a moment, but it had become characteristic, and he would certainly miss it if you changed.

"I want to be good for you," you whispered, and he couldn't deny that even if he tried as he shed the layers of fabric that held your disapproval. He marveled at how flustered and nervous you sounded, unable to control both your mind and your senses at the same time. And in a matter of seconds, you were on his lap once again, your head nestled on his shoulder as he kissed your neck and face. You began to grind against him, your touches growing more fervent.

As he burned against your skin, he lifted you, albeit clumsily, hoisting up your dress and letting you settle onto him with a prolonged groan, your needy hands clinging to his arm. You held onto him, your muscles quivering as you gazed into his calm eyes, his expression relaxed as you took your time to adjust to him. You were sore and wet, feeling him all over you, full and comfortable, even if not fully stretched due to your eagerness. But every second was worth it.

You worked your way onto him, lifting yourself slightly and settling back down, taking him all into you. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, husky and accentuated, filling you up completely. “Aren’t you, doll?”

His words took effect on you, and his gaze held the purest contentment as he watched you stumble through forming responses, not that he needed them. His movements were slow, letting you take the lead. Your lips were slightly parted, legs tightly wrapped around him. In fact, you were only holding yourself together because he was supporting you. The straps of your dress slipped to the side, gracefully as if watching a painting dry. Assisting you, he squeezed your thighs, using his thumb to press between your legs, exerting pressure on your clit. Your body immediately responded to the extra stimulus, and you collapsed onto him with a slight moan.

"It's okay, pretty girl, I've got you," he whispered amidst more persistent sighs, his hands gaining a rhythm against your hips, making your body more relaxed and ready to accommodate him. You rubbed yourself on him just beautifully. His lips grazed your collarbone, wet kisses and nips tracing over your exposed skin. He lowered the straps further, your breasts on display for him, in a gentle sway prompted by you. He took one in his mouth, your nails grazing him, marks he knew would be left, but he relished in it. He sucked on the flesh, releasing it with a wet sound before giving the same attention to the other, fingertips skimming over the erect nipple and then warm tongue soothing you through it all. He gave them time and attention, enveloping them slowly, taking it to himself until the tip of his nose was all dipped in your scent and then letting go cunningly, lost in desire. Your hands tangled in his hair, a sound escaping him as he rested his forehead against yours, leaving you even more soaked. Your legs grew sluggish, and you found yourself grinding against him more than riding, a detail he didn't miss. He lifted with you briefly, and soon you were lying on your back, him atop you. His face was still close, breath mixing with yours in the warm space between you. You clung to his shirt collar firmly, both for control and to keep him close, and he chuckled. "Please, I'm aching, Al," your vision blurred as tears formed, your body trembling without any movement from him. He trailed his nose across yours, his hair falling onto your face, which you brushed aside to kiss him better. You hugged him tight, curling into his chest, and gradually, air filled your lungs as your body was brought up and down with his.

"You're being so good to me. Look at what you do to me, fuck. How could you even think you're not just mine, and only mine alone?" His voice was disoriented, dark and staggered, clearly needing to focus intently to sound coherent. And then his gaze locked onto you, eagerly waiting to take in every last bit of it. He was gentle, even in his urgency, and you loved that he knew your body so well that you didn't have to tell him what you needed. With him deep inside you, feeling your senses growing restless, he braced his hands above your head, applying more pressure, your eyes closing as he held you tight to him. The tears running down your cheeks that would soon be kissed clean. He loved to watch it. He whispered soothingly for you to calm down, sweet nothings while he thrust you through that sensation until your mind was filled with his rough, broken moans as he peaked along with you. His body collapsed onto yours, the weight becoming comfortable, your fingers tracing lines along the spots of his back, and he didn't fail to kiss your exposed skin. "I love you," you said, breathless, his hand affectionately running over you.

 And you were right; you'd fall asleep next to him, entwined, and wake up with a clearer mind. You could already imagine getting up in his shirt, going to sit on his lap while he wore his glasses and had a book ready to be put aside for your more important presence. No one else could bring you the comfort he did. He settled beside you, both your breaths gradually returning to normal, and just before his lips brushed yours in a smile, he whispered in his lazy voice, "I love you, and I'm yours, only yours, my girl."

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3

...

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#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you

[wordsbyrian]

Meet the Culers - Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary/Request: @dying-to-live-living-to-die "Ona x USWNT!Reader where R goes with her back to Spain for the holidays & ends up getting interrogated by Ona's national teammates"

A/N: yea, I don't actually have anything to say, enjoy the fic.

Every year since you joined the USWNT, and they found out that you prefer not to interact with your family during the holidays, you’ve had to deal with them fighting over who you were going to spend Christmas with.

This year is different though because you had sent them a mass text saying that you were going to Spain with your girlfriend this year.

You hadn’t given them any more information than that so now you’re fielding calls and texts from them trying to force you to tell them who your girlfriend is.

Your team moms, Alex and Kelley, had taken this the worst because you usually told them everything. You not telling them you’ve had a girlfriend for a year and a half already was pretty shocking to them.

Which explains the phone call you're currently having in the middle of Manchester airport.

“Can the two of you stop yelling at me for a second,” you say, waiting until they’re silent to continue, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you guys, I knew you would react like this.”

“How do you want us to react, Y/N/N,” Alex asks, “Two days ago, you didn’t have a girlfriend and today, you’re darting off to Spain with her.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a girlfriend, you just didn’t know.”

“You’re proving my point for me, Y/N,” she says.

“Listen, Y/N,” Kelley cuts in, “You have to understand where we're coming from.”

“No I don't,” you cut her off, “Once again, you guys are treating me like a child and in case you've forgotten, I'm not.”

“Y/N.”

“No, seriously, who do you guys think I went to Switzerland with?”

There’s a moment of silence as the older players take in what you’ve said.

“You went to Switzerland with her,” Alex asks, “Like last month when you went to Switzerland, you were with her?”

“I mean yea. We went to see her brother.”

“You’ve met her brother,” Kelley asks, trying to wrap her head around it, “Things are pretty serious, huh?”

“I’d say we’re serious, she is taking me to meet the rest of her family.”

You hear both of them sigh, seemingly having a silent conversation on the other end of the line.

“Okay, Y/N/N, here’s the deal,” Alex says, “You can go to Spain but you text us when you land and you text us at least once a day.”

“I was going to Spain whether you said I could or not but I agree to your terms,” you tell them, “The plane’s started boarding, text you later, bye.”

You hang up before they have a chance to respond, grabbing your stuff and moving to stand in line with your girlfriend.

“So we’re pretty serious,” she asks, smirking.

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your eyes, “I’d say we’re pretty serious, Ona.”

A few days later, after having spent a couple of days with her family and exploring both her hometown and Barcelona, you and Ona find yourselves seated in Estadi Johan Cruyff watching some of her national teammates play.

The way that they move together is one of the best things you’ve ever seen. And if we’re being honest, it makes you jealous that your team, both national and club, are nowhere near that efficient.

Barcelona dominates the entire match and by the final whistle blows, the score is a stunning 7-0 for La Blaugrana.

This is when your day took a significant turn because instead of watching the game and heading home like had originally been the plan. You’re sitting in a restaurant with a significant portion of the Spanish national team because Ona had been spotted by her teammates.

So there you are sitting in the restaurant with Ona’s hand on your thigh doing your best to follow the conversation in a language you are barely beginning to understand.

For the most part, you aren’t struggling too much. There’s a lot of talk about the game and everyone’s holiday plans and even a moment where you hear Irene Paredes ask Ona why you’re wearing shorts, to which she just gets a head shake in response.

It isn’t until dessert that the interrogation you’re expecting starts, except the first question isn’t one you’re expecting.

“What’s your zodiac sign,” Patri asks, kicking it off.

“Uh, Cancer,” you say, watching confused as she nods seriously.

“What do you want to do when you retire from football,” Mapi asks.

“Probably do some writing for TV or film, it’s what I was studying in college.”

This seems to be a good enough answer for the older woman because she nods as though you just told her the secret of the universe.

“How did your family react when you told them that you have a girlfriend,” Panos questions.

“Most of my family is dead and the ones that aren’t are better left unmentioned,” you say seriously.

“What about your American teammates,” Sandra doubles down, “Morgan and O’Hara rarely let you out of their sight.”

“I think they took it pretty well.”

Ona glares at you, “You spent 30 minutes getting yelled at over the phones before our flight and before that you turned your phone off for days after telling them.”

“That was because I didn’t feel like answering 1000 questions,” you say casually, “Besides any reaction that didn’t involve them dragging me back to the States is a good one.”

“Why would they have taken you back to America? Do they not like Ona,” Alexia asks glaring at you.

“It's not that. They just think it’s normal to treat me like I’m 14, not 24.”

Somewhere to your left you hear something mumbled and while you don't understand every word, you do recognize the Catalan words for 14 and years, so you respond anyway.

“Yes, I am aware that I look like an overgrown 14-year-old.”

That gets a couple of laughs from the gathered Spaniards and when you see Pina’s cheeks heat slightly, you immediately know who made the comment.

The interrogation slows down after that and it’s not long before your group finds itself walking the streets of Barcelona.

You and Ona are near the middle of the group, your arm around her shoulders, speaking to each other softly.

When she mentions that she’s a little cold, you do your best to avoid the eyes on you as you remove your hoodie and hand it to her, revealing the tank top you have on underneath.

This is apparently the final straw for Paredes who grabs you by the shoulders from behind, spins you around, and starts speaking to you in rapid Spanish.

After standing there staring at her blankly for a few moments, you decide to tell her what she should already know.

“I have no clue what you’re trying to tell me.”

She stops for a moment before she speaks again, this time in English.

“It’s 15 degrees (Celsius) out and you are wearing shorts and a tank top, why?”

“Well,” you begin, “I’m pretty sure it’s like -10 Celsius in my hometown right now and they probably have at least a meter of snow on the ground so this is actually pretty nice for me.”

While Paredes stomps off muttering something about crazy Americans, you’re dragged off by Mapi and out of the corner of your eye you can see Alexia doing the same with your girlfriend.

“Escuchame loca,” she says, “I’m starting to like you but if you hurt Ona. I’ll kill you.”

This, unsurprisingly, is not the first time you’ve been threatened over a girl so you take this in stride. It’s not even the first time you’ve been threatened over Ona this week, She has a very large Uncle who is definitely not as nice as she made him out to be.

All of that being said, you have no issue pretending to be scared as the blonde centerback promises violence against you should you hurt her friend.

Eventually, the night draws to a close; you and Ona are in the car headed back to her parent's house.

Barely bothering to take your eyes off the sights outside the window, you speak.

“Your teammates aren’t that bad,” you tell her.

“Really,” Ona sounds shocked, “Mapi wasn’t too mean to you at the end?”

“No worse than your uncle.”

“Tio Josep isn’t scary, amor,” she says, “Besides I think your teammates will be worse.”

You pause for a moment, strongly considering the possibility.

“I think I’m gonna just keep you away from them,” you tell her seriously, “Especially Alex and Kelley.”

“Good luck with that.”

#ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #womens soccer #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #muwfc imagine #muwfc x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader

[pippin-katz]

Reverse Character Bleed

Okay I wrote about this already, but it was on a reblog of a GIF set, so I decided to make its own post. I've decided to use a phrase to attempt to describe why Taylor and Nicholas' performances feel so different to watch.

I'm referring to it as reverse character bleed.

Character bleed is a term used to for when an actor subconsciously starts adopting behaviors and personality traits of the character they are playing. They don't do it intentionally. Sometimes when you spend so much time in the mindset of a character, it's a little difficult to turn it off completely. There are moments where you might find yourself thinking how the character would respond rather than how you would respond.

This is, again, subconscious. I'm not referring to a situation like an actor being asked what their favorite flavor of ice cream is, and in their head they think, "What would [x]'s favorite flavor be?" An easy example of what I am referring to would be their favorite color, because that changes over time for a lot of people anyway.

Say that your favorite color is yellow, but you're in a scenario where you are seeing the color blue a lot. You don't feel any sort of way about blue; you don't dislike it, but you don't like it either.

So, you are seeing blue everywhere. Maybe it's the color of your team's jersey, or the fabric you're working with, or paint you're using.

If you are enjoying the experience, you will likely develop a positive opinion of that color blue. This is because of the association of blue with the fun or happiness or excitement you felt during that experience. Obviously! Everyone knows about color association! But this can happen without realizing it until later, when someone asks you, "What's your favorite color?"

The thing about a lot opinions of this nature is that you don't typically spend a lot of time actually thinking about them on your own. You don't typically sit down for twenty minutes, pondering what your favorite color is in your head. Likes and dislikes, at least common ones, are typically better suited for conversations, not your internal dialogue (if you have that).

So, you probably were never randomly sitting around and had the thought, "I think my favorite color is blue instead of yellow."

But when someone asks you, instead of immediately responding with yellow, you pause to consider it. Because now you have another color that you associate strong, positive feelings with, that you did not even realize were there.

It's that subconsciousness that I'm referring to with character bleeding. Actors wouldn't notice until someone points it out. Think about how we can see similarities between Taylor and Alex, but Taylor seems to think they're nothing alike.

The interesting thing here is that this is not a case of character bleed. Character bleed would be Taylor and Nicholas adopting traits of Alex and Henry. But this is the reverse. It feels like Alex and Henry subconsciously adopted traits and behaviors from Taylor and Nicholas.

Now, what the hell do I mean by this? Let me talk you through it!

The best example of this reverse character bleed in my opinion is the scene of Henry holding Alex's hand when Alex asks for him to take a walk with him.

Time for the GIFs:

Taylor and Nicholas are close friends in real life.

When you are friends with someone, you care about them and their wellbeing. If they are upset, you want to comfort them. If they get hurt, you want to help them and do what you can to protect them from getting hurt whenever you're with them.

Take the adorable moment from their first GQ article where the journalist describes Taylor as "sinking into protective mode" when discussing Nicholas' injury.

As silly as this is to read, it's probably accurate!

It's in the past, but again, when someone you care about gets hurt, you want to protect them. It's natural to feel protective after the fact, especially if you weren't there to help.

Back in high school, my best friend and I were in theatre. There was a show that she did, that I didn't, and there was a small stunt that involved her character and dry ice. She had to crouch down in a box to look like she fell down a chute with the dry ice effect helping sell it.

Someone spilled the dry ice into the box, and my friend ended up touching it with her bare hands and her legs. She got burned, obviously, but no one did anything about it. The show kept going, and even though her character was practically done for the show, no one took her to the hospital or emergency room for the ice burns.

I was furious when I heard about it. If I had been there, I would have cussed out our director/teacher and fucking demanded that someone take her to the doctor. Fuck the show, ice burn from dry ice is no-joke. I still get angry whenever I think about it.

This is to say that Taylor having a noticeable reaction to the discussion of Nicholas' injury is completely realistic. He doesn't have a reason to get angry like I did for my friend, but he experiences the same worry/concern after the fact.

Caring for your friend's wellbeing includes their mental health, obviously. So, consider: Taylor and Nicholas are at an event together. For some reason, Taylor starts feeling anxious or nauseous. Nicholas is going to be worried about him. That's just a fact of friendship.

Somehow that real life connection makes Henry’s concern for Alex feel more genuine and sincere.

It's as though Alex and Henry subconsciously adopted traits and behaviors from Taylor and Nicholas, rather than the other way around. Reverse character bleed is the only way I can think to describe it.

Anyway, that's all! I'm really excited to see them together again in the sequel! 🩵

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont-diaz #taylor zakhar perez #henry hanover-stuart fox #nicholas galitzine #firstprince

[multifamdomfan]

Hi, if requests are still open and if you still write for Hamilton could I request an imagine where the fem!reader was Alex’s wife, they met and fell in love during the Winter's ball. And, she first met him when she was in the war (dressed as a man) but Alex never knew it was her until he found out himself. And maybe has a near-death experience fighting in a duel for any reason you want. And years later, she maybe becomes a lawyer/statesman or whatever as long as she's not a housewife and she finds out Alex had an affair and she like goes to Laurens for comfort but he ends up confessing he has loved her since day one when they met at the Winter's ball but saw she was so much happier with Alex (and it's kind of like an Angelica situation.) and how he would have never if he knew that was what Alex was going to do to her. And finally, he asked her to be with him. Also, could you please make the reader Washington's adopted daughter? I know it's a lot but even if you don't do it, thank you for just reading it. I just kinda wanted a lot of angst followed by fluff but since I can't stand the thought of having been with some who cheated on me and didn't love me, could you please make Alex still love the reader but realize if he wanted her to be happy, he would have to let her go and as soon as the Reader is thinking "You know what? I should forgive." He just dies. I feel bad for the Reader, not gonna lie. Thank you again. <33

Prompts: "May I have this dance?" (Hamilton to Reader) "Shit, are you bleeding?!" (Hamilton to Reader) “You need to leave. Right now.” (Reader to Hamilton) “You need to let her go.” (Anyone who seems right to Hamilton) "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?" (Laurens to Reader) But hey, it’s up to you, I'm just giving suggestions on what I was thinking.

Note: And yes, in my fantasy world, Laurens doesn't die and is still alive in Act II.

😮😍 I love this request! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I hope you don't mind but I'm turning this into a two part.

warning: angst,character death,cheating

Why does love hurt so much? Pt. 1

I was reading my book in my room when my dad, George Washington, knocked gently against the door. Well if you want to get technical he's my adoptive dad. My biological parents when I was young and was sent to the orphanage when George and his wife ,Martha, adopted me. I closed my book and put it down and called out "Come in!" When Dad came in I immediately knew that something was wrong. He was fiddling with his hands and his eyes cast down onto the floor looking frantic. "What is it father?"

"Y/N I need to tell you something," I looked at him curiously while Dad was looking like he was trying to find the right words to say. "There is really no way to say this but I'm going to go to war." He said this quickly and nervously watching to see how I'll react.I didn't respond, not at first I looked at him with a blank expression trying to comprehend what he just said.

"What?" He remained silent like he was waiting for me to tell, scream, or do something. "Let me come with you, I can help!"

"No! You're not coming, it's too dangerous."

"But you're going! You will be there to look after me and you taught me to use a gun since I was ten!"

"I won't always be there to look after you, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. Just promise me that you won't follow me."

I sighed in defeat "I promise." Dad came up to me and hugged me. I hugged back thinking about how I lied to his face.

I put my hair that's now shoulder length and tied my hair up. I looked down at myself with my uniform on with bandages over my breast to flatten them out. I nodded at my reflection in approval before walking out of my tent. My dad found out that I was pretending to be a man to fight in the war immediately but he kept my secret.

I approached my friends Lafayette, Hercules, John, and Alexander. We became friends quickly, and no. They have no idea that I'm a woman and plan to keep it that way. There is one problem, I developed a crush on one of the four men. It's Alex, I couldn't help it. He's passionate, smart, and kind. "Hey James!" Hercules called over to me.

Yes James is the name that I chose because it was my biological dad's name. "Hi." I responded, lowering my voice and octive to keep from sounding too feminine. I sat next to Alexander and joined in on the conversation before we heard a loud noise. We all turned our heads to see what it was. It was the red coats, we sprung into action grabbing our guns.

There was death all around us with an overwhelming smell of blood but we had to keep moving I killed a couple men before they could kill me first. Then I was a man aiming for Alexander about to shoot, without thinking I shoved him out of the way and took the bullet. All I could hear was a distant yelling at the word "James!" He quickly rushed over and got in my field of vision. "Shit, you're bleeding."

"You need to leave. Right now." I responded not wanting him to find out. Alex ignored what I said and ripped my shirt off and saw the bandages being soaked with blood. He looked shocked at first but knew it wasn't the time to talk about it and used my shirt to apply pressure to the wound and rushed me to the medics.

#alexander hamilton #alexander hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader #hamilton musical #hercules #marquis de lafayette #john laurens #john laurens x reader #george washingdad #martha washington #george washington

[lovelytsunoda]

ironic // george russell

summary: george and y/n are finally tying the knot, but trust everything to go wrong that weekend, in all of the right ways. inspired by a selection of verses from ‘ironic’ by alanis morrissette

it’s like rain on your wedding day

pairing: george russell x wife!reader

warnings: dramatic irony, mentions of omens from the universe. I do a little bit of projecting. alex and charles are the reason george is almost late for his wedding. ive only ever had a proper manicure once so its probably unrealistic as hell.

authors note: welcome to the end of the cozy collection 2022 !! i hope you enjoyed it, and im really looking forward to bringing you guys the christmas collection later in november.

reference points: (wedding dress) (george's suit) (the altar)(the song she’ll walk down the aisle to)(engagement ring)(blanket station)(wedding cake)

kings lynn, norfolk.

george russell was on top of the world.

it was a feeling better than winning the formula 2 championship, or getting pole position in hungary, or even when he was signed to mercedes. because in just forty-eight hours, the love of his life would become mrs. russell.

what he was not looking forward to, was when she would leave. keeping with radition, the bride and groom were to spend forty-eight hours apart, sleeping in different beds and not allowed to see each other under any circumstance, until they saw each other again at the outdoor ceremony.

"baby, lily's here." y/n murmured softly against george's lips. "i have to go."

"i don't want you to leave." the mercedes driver responded, chasing the kiss. "i want to stay here with you, for the rest of my life."

y/n giggled, pulling away and gently tapping geroge on the end of his nose with the pads of her finger. "its just two days, and then we have three whole weeks together on the french coast."

"two days is too long."

"but you'll be with charles and alex, having a bros weekend."

"it's a bros weekend every time i go to a race, darling." george persists, trying to get his bride to be to stay with him. "do you have the dress?"

"lily has it, and alex has your suit. i really need to go, georgie."

"okay." the brit relented, giving y/n a tight hug before letting her go. "i miss you already."

"see you soon, husband."

its a black fly in your chardonnay

they were in a pub in norfolk, a secluded table by the back, large bottle of chardonnay in the middle of the table. lily he and charlotte sine sat at the head of the table, left in charge of planning the entire schedule while their boyfriends kept george occupied. a few of y/n's college friends were there as well, but just for the dinner rather than the whole weekend.

"i propose a toast!" charlotte proclaimed, popping the bottle open. "to the future mrs. russell!"

the girls around the table echoed that sentiment, y/n hiding her face in her hands as she laughed. "go ahead and tell the whole pub, won't you."

"so," taylor, one of her roomates in college was the first to ask "are you nervous for the wedding."

"a little. it's a little scary, you know. the whole 'commitment for life' thing. not that i see george and i ever having problems, im just thinking 'but what if we do'?"

"sweetie, if i can deal with charles for as long as i have, you can spend the rest of your life with george." charlotte joked. "i've never seen two people more made for each other."

"can i get an amen?" lily quipped, raising her glass to the ceiling.

"amen!" the table chorused, also raising their glasses.

"to y/n and george!" taylor added, clinking glasses with the bride-to-be.

when y/n brought the glass to her lips, a small shape floating in the chardonnay stopped her. scrunching up her nose, she lowered the glass, eyes zeroing in on the the dark shape in her wine.

"there's a fly in my drink! this is an omen." she panicked, placing the glass back down on the table. "something is going to go wrong at that wedding, i can already tell."

"sweetie, i think you're overthinking this." lily frowned, rubbing her hands up and down y/n's arms. "let's just get you another glass and get shitfaced."

"that sounds like a really good idea."

it's the good advice that you just didn't take

george could be a moody bastard when he wanted to be, and alex and charles were learning that very quickly as they stood at the tee of the golf hole, waiting for charles to hit the small white ball.

"you guys have been apart for six hours. it's not a big deal, george. goddamn, are you whipped." alex remarked, clapping the groom on the shoulder.

"i can't remember the last time we were apart for more than a normal workday. or woken up without her in the bed next to me, inhaling the scent of her shampoo." george whined as charles finally took the shot. "i miss her like hell, give me a break."

"i told you this was a bad idea." alex insisted. "i knew that you couldn't stand to be away from her for this long."

george rolled his eyes. staying apart hadn't been his idea. after enlisting his mother to help with the wedding planning, mrs. russell had insisted on good old british tradition, and he was too much of a mama's boy to say no.

he figured that it was the least he could do, and that it would all be worth it when he got to hold y/n again, or when he saw her walking down the aisle to the song they had picked together, an acoustic cover of ‘mr brightside’, the song that was playing in the pub the night that they had their first kiss.

"even when she's at work, we still text each other. we've grown attached."

"as all couples do." charles agreed. "but she has you wrapped around her finger tighter than that engagement ring, mate."

"if you hadn't told charlotte to confiscate her phone for the weekend, i wouldn't be so miserable right now."

"may i remind you that i also have your phone? no contact, remember? not until the wedding."

"not until the wedding." george mocked in a high-pitched whine as he stepped up to take the shot, balancing the small plastic golf ball on the metal tee. "you're evil, charlie. pure evil."

the mercedes driver swung the golf club, using it like a walking stick to rest his weight on as he watched the golf ball soar across the course.

behind him, still leaning against the cart, alex checked his phone, reading through a message from lily.

"i bet you're going to wish you took dear old dad's advice and decided to move the ceremony indoors."

panic shot through geroge's veins. "what?"

"lily just said that the chance of rain on saturday just shot up from 10% to 25%. if it rains during your outdoor ceremony, it's not gonna look good."

"fuck! does y/n know?"

alex shook his head. "lily hasn't told her."

"she's already worried enough, tell lily not to say anything. besides, there's still only a small chance of rain, right?"

"whatever you say, buddy." charles laughed, clapping george on the shoulder

life has a funny, funny way of sneaking up on you

the salon had an airy, yet energetic feel to it as y/n sat perched in the white leather chair, a table between her and the esthetician as the young woman delicately painted her tan french tips.

"this still feels so unreal." she remarked, one hand still underneath the blue light fan that would dry the clear base coat on her fingernails.

"i guess life has a funny way of sneaking up on you, doesn't it?" charlotte said knowingly, around the same time as an alanis morrissette song began to play in the background.

'ironic', which was ironic since the sine girl had just inadvertently quoted one of the lyrics.

"seriously, guys. i didn't think that this was ever going to happen for me, that i was going to go through life not knowing what romantic love was, what it felt like to love and be loved, so to speak. never on earth did i imagine that i'd meet someone like george. because i didn't think little old me was the kind of girl that would attract someone as incredible and beautiful and sweet as him."

"stop selling yourself short, sweetheart." lily said softly. "the past is in the past, and george is everything you ever wanted."

y/n sighed. "i just feel like tomorrow i could wake up and realize that this has all been some cruel dream, that i'm going to wake up alone and miserable."

lily took her hand out of the blue light machine and reached across to y/n's seat, with the golfer pinching the bride's skin between her fingers. y/n jumped, the esthetician tsking as she used a q-tip coated in acetone to fix the nail design.

"lily muni he, what was that for!?"

"to make sure that you're not dreaming and remind you that this is real, and you're allowed to be happy now."

y/n's face softened, some of the anxiety subsiding as she grounded herself in the moment.

this is real. i've found the one.

"thanks, lily. you truly are the best bridesmaid i could ever ask for."

"hey!" charlotte shouted in mock hurt, a smile on her face. "what about me?"

a traffic jam when you're already late

george russell was woken up by harsh sunlight and yelling. and then hitting, as alex albon ran around the bad, battering the groom's body with a pillow as he encouraged ( well, more like threatened ) the mercedes driver out of bed.

"what the hell is wrong with you guys?" george said groggily, looking over at charles, who had just ripped the drapes open

"we overslept." the monegasque said simply, striding over the the walk in closet. "alex, where did you put the suits?"

george sat up, exhausted and still half asleep. falling asleep the night before had been hard. after just forty-eight hours, y/n's side of the bed had already started to lose her signature scent, the smell of warm vanilla and cinnamon in the bath and body works lotion that she lathered on before bed. they had spent so long together that it had been two years since the driver had slept in a bed alone.

"how did we oversleep? you wankers were supposed to wake me."

alex shrugged. "that couch you have in the den is mighty comfortable."

"so is the guest bedroom." charles agreed, exiting the closet with three garment bags in his arms. "put this on before we go, we can do your flowered pin thingy and your hair in the car."

approximately half an hour later, after a rushed breakfast and some spilled coffee as charles tried to keep everybody organized, the wedding party was on the road.

until they weren't.

"bloody hell, alex!" george shouted from the backseat of the mercedes. "we've been stuck in traffic for forty five minutes! y/n is probably pacing the altar, scared half to death that i've left her there!"

"the gps said there wasn't any traffic!"

"what have i said about trusting that thing! half the time it doesn't even work! google maps said there was traffic, the news said there was traffic! but because the gps system said there wasn't, you thought 'why the fuck not'?"

"stop moving or you'll ruin your hair!" charles scolded the brit, trying to work the hair gel through geroge's amber locks

alex switched gears on the car, reversing slightly and pulling off of the country road onto the grass, tentatively pulling ahead of the traffic while other commuters who were stuck in the fray turned to look at the sports car pulling off the road with anger, shock and a little bit of envy.

charles looked around nervously "alex, mate, what the fuck are you doing?"

"getting georgie boy to his wedding on time." alex grinned. "hold on to your seats, this is going to be unpleasant." he said simply before gunning the engine.

it's like meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting becoming his beautiful wife

"stop pacing, you're going to ruin your shoes!"

"my shoes are the last thing i care about right now, taylor! where the fuck is george?"

they had been waiting at the venue for almost and hour for george to show up. the guests were sitting in their outdoor chairs, humming nervously with each other as they wrapped themselves in the blankets from the baskets placed at the end of each row. susie wolff was sitting near the front with her husband toto and their son jack, and she turned around to look at y/n sympathetically, the entire wedding wondering where the groom's half of the wedding party was.

"i'm sure he's on his way." charlotte insisted. "he's with alex and charles."

"forgive me if that doesn't instill me with a lot of confidence."

"alex isn't answering his phone." lily frowned. "knowing him, that means the radio in his car is on the fritz again. he probably listened to the gps and got them stuck in traffic."

"why don't i call charles?" charlotte offered

y/n opened her mouth, about to charlotte that it was a wonderful idea, when lewis hamilton's shout carried across the setup. "they're here!"

eyes widening, lily ushered y/n back into the tent where they had spent the morning getting ready, and where the reception for the outdoor wedding would be held, despite her insistence that she wanted to see her husband-to-be, with lily claiming that she would see her groom soon enough, after her father had walked her down the aisle.

soon enough, after some floundering around from the groom's part of the ceremony, as well as the time it took to get the audience to quiet down, the ceremony began, with the acoustic version of mr brightside echoing through the field, none other than lando norris behind the table, cell phone in hand as he tried his hardest to be a dj given the limited supplies that were outside of the tent.

george walked down the aisle first, followed by charles and alex, with the four boys taking their place at the altar. lewis hamilton stood behind the lectern, honored to be asked to speak at his teammates ceremony.

the bridesmaids came out first: charlotte, lily and taylor. george sucked in a breath, nervously smoothing the front of his earthen brown suit as y/n came out of the tent, arm linked through her father's. the audience promptly rose to their feet, and george's eyes were glued to his bride as she walked down the aisle, nervousness evident on her face as her father looked like he was holding back tears.

her mother took the bouquet from her as her parents sat down in the front row, music fading out as y/n stood in front of her bridesmaids, resisting the urge to reach for geroge's hands.

she'd only been to three weddings in her lifetime, she was the first of her friends to get married, so how was she supposed to know what she was supposed to do on her special day, standing in front of the man she loved more than anything.

george broke first, taking his bride's hands in his. her hands were cold, probably from being outside in the cotswold cold. as lewis began to speak, he locked eyes with her, mouthing 'i love you'.

she smiled, blowing him a kiss back.

it's like rain on your wedding day

two hours later, the ceremony was over, and everyone had gone into the tent to thaw out for the reception, space heaters turned on and lando behind the dj booth, while the wedding party plus lewis all stayed outside for wedding photos, trying so many arrangements and configurations that they were all fed up with the photographer by the time it was time to just take portraits of the bride and groom, with the sun dipping behind the clouds.

geroge twirled his bride around, pulling her in close for a sweet kiss, a stupid grin on his face.

"my beautiful mrs. russell." he said dremaily, holding her close as they stared lovingly into each other's eyes, the photographer snapping pictures behind him.

"i love you." she smiled, kissing him softly as the photographer took another shot. "and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life loving you more and more every day."

and that's when the first droplet fell, hitting y/n right in the forehead. she recoiled, george following suit as a droplet broke apart on his skin.

"is that rain?"

"you said it wasn't supposed to rain!"

alex cleared his throat, already stripping out of his suit jacket to hold over lily's head as a shield. "yeah, about that.."

the rain just kept coming down, the happy couple too stunned to really do anything until susie came bounding out of the tent, blazer in hand, eager to get the bride inside before her tulle dress was ruined.

they ran across the field, y/n bunching up the dress in her hands as she stumbled along on her heels, giggling and laughing as george followed, laughing equally as hard and using his own suit jacket to cover his head.

the photographer was behind them, snapping pictures all the way.

it’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

once they were safely inside the tent, space heaters warming up their insides, a cream coloured hoodie with the date embroidered on the hood and ‘mrs russell’ printed on the back pulled over the upper half of her body to keep y/n warm, it was time to divvy up the wedding cake.

they stood in front of the triple-tiered cake, y/n carefully removing the two ceramic owl toppers that were on the top of the cake, gently setting them down on one of the ikea plates. she kissed george gently, and lando began to play my chemical romance’s ‘bulletproof heart’ in the background as the groom began to look for the knife.

“toto!” he shouted, turning his head to try and find the mercedes team principal. “you were with the caterers when they set up, have you seen the knife?”

the austrian looked up from the table he was sitting at with his son. “is there not a knife up there already?”

“would I be asking if there was?”

susie shook her head, smacking her husband in the shoulder as she got up, rushing over to the rolling cutlery cart behind the table where the cake was set up.

she rooted through the cutlery for a good five minutes before turning back to the shoulder couple. “there aren’t any knives, loves!”

y/n rolled her eyes. “susie, just give me a spoon. nothing else has gone right today, so I’m just gonna say fuck it at this point!”

the tent cheered, and susie smiled as she brought over a large golden spoon. george stood behind his wife, his warm hands over hers as they used the edge of the serving spoon to make the first cut into the soft pastry of the cake, camera flashes going off in front of them as they laughed.

“I love you, mrs. russell.” george said softly, kissing her cheek.

“I love you even more, mr. russell.”

#the cozy collection 2022 #george russell x reader #george russell #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste #alanis morrisette #wedding saga #Spotify

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Twenty-Three

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Morpheus is a Pouty/Sulky Boi, Reader Argues with Matthew Over Hotdogs, Hob is Amused by Morpheus’s Relationship with Reader, Morpheus is a Simp for Reader (And Doesn’t Know He’s Showing It).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later). 

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Morpheus was picking apart the bread loaf in his hands, flicking the tiny crumbs at the pigeons in front of him, pecking away at the grass. He had a conundrum on his hands. His bonded and consort defied him at almost every corner, constantly picked fights with him, and when you weren’t starting a fight, you were testing every bit of restraint he had to not take off with you and ravish you until the end of time. What kind of woman was capable of such a feat? Y/N Burgess. He had to choose the one human that vexed him to no end and could bring him to his knees with a single look. You had no idea the power you held over him. 

He flicked another breadcrumb and watched as the pigeons eagerly fought over the morsel. Then a soccer ball was flying toward his head. Morpheus caught it without effort as a young man jogged over. 

“Sorry, man. Nice catch, though.” The man said with a soft chuckle. Morpheus offered him the soccer ball once more. The man took it with another smile. “Thank you,” He turned away and walked passed Death slowly approaching Morpheus. She sat down next to him and rubbed her hands together. They sat in silence for a moment. 

“What are you doin’?” Death asked, peering at the half-torn piece of bread in Morpheus’s hands.  

“I’m feeding the pigeons,” Morpheus responded drolly.

“You do that too much, you know what you get?" Death questioned, leaning over with a smile. “Fat pigeons. That’s from Mary Poppins. Did you ever see it?”

“No,” Another period of silence. Death let out a sigh. Difficult and solitary as usual. Eons could go by and her brother wouldn’t change. 

“Okay, so what's the matter?” She asked, giving her younger brother a look. He had his realm back, a woman who would always love him and be by his side, a loyal subject. What did he have to mope and pout about?

“What do you mean?” Morpheus questioned, taking another morsel of bread and throwing it to the waiting pigeons. The birds fought over the piece as Death snorted. 

“I can tell something's wrong. I mean, look at you. Sittin' here, moping, pigeon-feeding. It's not like you.” She said, eying the pigeons once more. Feeding them couldn’t be this riveting, could it? No, not when he had Y/N Burgess as a bonded. No one could get bored with you around. 

“No. Perhaps it isn't. I don't know what's wrong, but... You're right. Something is the matter.” Morpheus sighed, looking down at the bread he held. His fingers rotated and picked at it absentmindedly, his thoughts unsettled and unorganized. “When they captured me, I just had one thought. Vengeance. It wasn't as satisfying as I'd expected. Meanwhile, my kingdom had fallen apart. My tools long since stolen and scattered. And so I embarked upon a journey to find them. Which I did. I'm now more powerful than I have been in eons.”

“And yet... Here you are, feeding the pigeons.”

“You see, until then, I'd had a true quest. A purpose beyond my function and then suddenly, it was over, and... I felt disappointed. Let down. Empty. Does that make sense? I was so sure that once I got everything back, I'd feel good. But in some ways, I feel worse than when I started. I feel like... overwhelmed. I don’t know what to do to keep her happy and I fear that I will never be able to keep her safe from those who wish to hurt me. She’s so precious and delicate.”

“You could have called me, you know.” Death reminded her brother. “You’re not alone, how many siblings do you have? Six? And you didn’t ask any of us for help?”

“I didn't want to worry you,” Morpheus spoke in his defense. 

“Oh, I don't believe it. Let me tell you something, Dream.” Death snatched the bread from Morpheus’s hands and brandished it at him. “And I'm only gonna say this once, so you better pay attention. You are utterly the stupidest, most self-centered, pathetic excuse for an anthropomorphic personification on this or any other plane. Feeling sorry for yourself because your little game is over and you haven't got the balls to go out and find a new one?”

“I didn't think you—“ Morpheus’s protest was short-lived as Death went off on him again. 

“Exactly. You didn't think. Do you have any idea how much Y/N came to your defense when I spoke with her? Do you even appreciate the fact that you will have someone who will love you unconditionally for the rest of time? You have someone waiting for you, at home, and you’re here moping!”

“How do you know Y/N?” Morpheus questioned in confusion. “When did you speak with her? She never mentioned—“

“She was drunk off her arse over you, that’s what. Doesn’t even remember talking to me.” Death snorted in disgust. “Do you know what she said to me that night?” Morpheus said nothing. “She said that we didn’t deserve you, that you deserved siblings that actually acted like siblings. Went right off on me actually. She thinks the world of you, Dream. Don’t take that for granted.”

“I would never,” Morpheus replied quietly. “She has gotten me through many dark times.” 

“Then why do you keep yanking her around like she’s on a leash? Do you not care for how she feels?” Now Morpheus was getting angry, how dare his sister insinuate that he would ever care so little for the one he had bound to himself? Had he not done everything he could to keep you safe from his enemies?

“I have many enemies, sister, surely you can understand why I feel the need to make sure that something so precious to me is protected? I can’t do that if I let my guard down,” Death rolled her eyes. “She is new to our world, I won’t let her get hurt any more than she already has. You know not what she has suffered.”

“You’re not getting it, Dream.” She stated, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Y/N isn’t as defenseless as you think, and neither is she going to break. She’s got balls where you don’t.” His eyebrow went up incredulously. “And your enemies? If they know what’s good for them, they should be scared of her.” 

It was about two days after you had woken that Morpheus had tracked you down. You were still giving him the relative cold shoulder regarding his cold feet but tried your best to remain cordial with him. He was complicated and it was probably centuries since his last relationship. He was rusty. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself to feel better. That rejection still hurt. At least you were finally venturing back into the waking world. You didn’t know exactly what you were going there for, but it would be nice to have a sense of normalcy. 

Well, at least as normal as one could be with a talking raven and an Endless who couldn’t decide if he wanted you or not. No, that wasn’t right. He did want you, but for some ungodly reason, he did his best to stay as far away as possible. Fine then, you would simply enjoy yourself as much as you could, without him. See how he liked that. 

So while Morpheus met up with whoever he was meeting with at a place called The New Inn, you sat outside, taking up a seat at a patio table. Matthew was standing on the table, cocking his head side to side as you stared off into the distance. 

“What do you think he’s doing in there?” You questioned after a period of silence. Matthew did his bird form of a shrug. 

“Who knows, he doesn’t seem like the type to have friends, let alone make one… but that’s what he told me. It sounds like they have history.” 

“Trying to befriend Morpheus is like trying to befriend a rock.” You huffed out, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “You aren’t going to get very far. He doesn’t want anyone even remotely close to him.” 

“He cares for you,” Matthew protested like the saint of a raven he was. You let out a wry chuckle and shook your head, drumming your fingernails on the table. 

“Hardly counts, he doesn’t have much of a choice.” You said in refute. “Every time I think I’ll get any form of affection, he starts pulling away and I— it hurts. I know he wants me but when he pulls away the sting of rejection puts even more cracks in my already chipped heart. Can’t he see that? Does he not see how much it hurts?” 

Matthew hopped a few paces closer to you and picked at the sleeve of the light jacket you had on. Your eyes dropped down to his. 

“I can’t say I understand him that well since I’m still new at this… and don’t repeat what I’m about to tell you because he’ll probably pluck all my feathers… but I think he’s scared,” Matthew explained, shuffling his wings nervously. 

“What does a being like him have to be scared about? I’m a bumbling human who is now immortal and essentially, has no idea what she is doing.” You said, waving your hand about. 

“Y/N, he’s never had a lasting relationship.” Matthew reminded you. “But you? You are what he will always have. You’re something that no matter what happens, he will always have you to return to. You aren’t going to be able to betray him, not in the way he fears. When has he ever had that kind of security?” 

“I’m not a goddamn security blanket.” You mumbled out, planting your chin in hand and leaning against the tabletop. “But you have a point.” 

“Yes, I do,” Matthew said proudly, his chest puffing out. “Now I’m starving, what do they have to eat around here?” 

You looked around the immediate vicinity and didn’t find much. 

“No idea, never been in this part of London before, but…” You pulled your phone from your jacket pocket and held it up for Matthew to see. “I’ve got yelp and we can certainly remedy that.”

Huddling over your phone, Matthew hopped closer and peered at the screen as you opened the yelp app and did a search of the area for restaurants that had takeout. Your thumb tabbed through a few listings and you found a highly-rated deli that was only a block or two away. The reviews raved about the sandwiches and by the time you were opening the menu your stomach was rumbling in excitement. 

“Ooh, Ooh! I recognize that stand!” Matthew cried out in excitement, airing out a few bird noises as his eyes focused on something in the distance. Your eyebrow went up as your nose wrinkled. Hotdogs? Again!? Most definitely not. 

“We’re going to the deli, the sandwiches are rated the best in the city,” You spoke as you scanned the rest of the deli menu, noting that there was a section for hotdogs. That would surely appease the flapping raven, would it not?

“Does it look like I can eat a sandwich Y/N!?” Matthew flapped his midnight wings in exaggerated emphasis. “No, I have wings. Wings which I cannot use to eat a sandwich!”

You pinched your forehead with a heavy sigh. Why did the raven have to have such an addiction to hotdogs? Given the amount he consumed, one would think that he would turn into one. 

“The deli has a hot dog on the menu Matthew, we don’t have to go to a hot dog stand just to get one!” You spoke, waving your hand in front of you while opening up the maps app and rising to your feet. 

“But the stall has the best hot dogs!” The bird complained. You rounded on him. 

“We have had hot dogs for lunch the last three days!! I am having a damn sandwich for lunch and that is final, Matthew!” A movement to the side caught your attention, and turning in place, you saw Morpheus staring at you in amusement. Might as well ask him if he wanted one, he probably didn’t but it didn’t help to be polite. He might be acting like an arse to you, but you didn’t have to be one. “Do you want a bloody sandwich?” He blinked at you in puzzlement. “Do. You. Want. A bloody sandwich!?” Morpheus still looked confused and you finally shook your head, at your wit's end. “You know what, I’m just going to get you one. You are being entirely unhelpful, I’m done quarreling about this with a bird.”

“I’m a raven, thank you very much!” Matthew squawked back in outrage as you started marching your way in the direction your phone said to go. You ignored his irked complaint.

“Come along, Matthew, I’ll explain the hot dog options as we walk.” Matthew flapped after you, soaring down to land on your shoulder. 

“Who is that again?” Hob questioned, thoroughly puzzled by what had just taken place. He had learned a little about the woman named Y/N Burgess, but he didn’t quite know what to expect. Certainly not that. Morpheus aired out a sigh. 

“My consort.”

“Consort, eh?” Hob repeated looking up at Morpheus with a sly smile. “Never thought I’d see the day where you actually looked at a human let alone got into a relationship with one.” 

Morpheus didn’t respond and continued to stare after the receding woman fondly. Observing his long-time friend, Hob was sure that the Endless didn’t even realize he was looking after Y/N with such a soft look. One of adoration. Oh yes, his prickly friend had changed in the years since they last met, and Hob was certain it was for the better. 

Date Published: 10/31/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

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#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream the endless #morpheus

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

A Hero's Judgement, Pt. 6 of 6

Kara doesn't return to the hospital. A week later, Lena is released-- wheeled out in a chair that goes home with her. Updates from Alex are brief, leaving Kara to stew in a lack of detail and her internal resentment.

She's never felt like this before-- so directionless, so helpless. The anger and hurt that had prompted her to cut ties with Lena is still there, simmering under the surface where it has lingered since that day in the lab.

Kara tries to push it down, tries to contain like she has for over a year. But it refuses to subside. Instead it churns and tumbles in her gut until she's nauseous with uncertainty.

She hasn't moved on, that much is clear. Nor has she moved on from Lena. And now she feels that familiar pull, that desperate need to be near. But that same hurt holds her back, this time for Lena's sake rather than her own.

Lena doesn't deserve to carry the burden of Kara's unresolved emotions. As she once said, her contrition has been demonstrated with every professional encounter, every time she agrees to help for no other reason than their need.

Lena has earned Kara's forgiveness. Now Kara needs to figure out how to give it.

---

Weeks after Lena's release from the hospital, Kara can't take the distance between them any longer. She makes her way to Lena's apartment, whose door opens long moments after Kara's knock.

Lena sits across the threshold in a low-backed wheelchair. She gazes up at Kara in surprise before her features smooth into indifference.

"If you're looking for Alex, she and Kelly left an hour ago," Lena tells her.

Kara steadies herself with a deep breath. "I'm here for you."

Lena doesn't respond.

"Can we talk?"

For a long moment, Lena doesn't respond. Her gaze falls from Kara's, sliding askance as her features turn sober. In the end, her answer comes in the form of Lena rolling her chair back to allow Kara to enter.

Walking into Lena's apartment feels odd. There are changes since she's last been here, but the bones are the same. It's still Lena's space. Kara closes the door behind her, and follows Lena as she rolls her way deeper into the room.

When Lena expertly twists the wheels of her to face Kara once more, Kara wants to ask how she's doing. How she's feeling, how she's processing. What comes out of her mouth is entirely different.

"I've never not cared about you," she says. Her words are blunt but her voice is as gentle as she can manage. Lena's eyes lock on her, and Kara holds her gaze for a moment before she lets it fall away. "I think, maybe, I cared too much."

Lena doesn't respond. Her expression remains wary, but she allows Kara to continue.

"That's why it hurt so much. Why I didn't see a way back for us. But when I saw you in that car, I-- everything seemed... different. Not that what happened suddenly didn't matter, but-- it now seems so solveable. I should have trusted us to heal. But Lena--"

Her voice catches. Taking a moment to collect herself, Kara closes her eyes and breathes.

"I need you to understand that it was never my intention to hurt you. And it tore me up for years to know that I did. That I was. But you... letting me believe that we'd be okay, and then trapping me in Kryptonite-- it was cruel, and malicious. And I... I didn't know what to do with a version of you who would do that."

This time, it's Lena's turn to hide her gaze. Her fingers fidget in her lap, squirming under the accusation. A year ago, Kara would have been glad to see it, to see Lena so uncomfortable to be confronted by her actions. But now-- it only breaks her heart.

"But what I realize now is... that version of you only existed because of the choices I made. It doesn't make it right, but-- now I understand."

When Lena still can't bring herself to meet Kara's gaze, Kara steps closer and lowers herself to one knee before Lena. Only then does Lena lift her eyes.

"I don't want to spend my life without you in it," Kara says softly. "You have every right to be angry with me for shutting you out, but..." Kara extends both hands towards Lena, palms up in offering. "Maybe we can overcome this time. Together."

Green eyes grow damp. After a long moment, Lena places her hands in Kara's.

"My anger burned out a long time ago," she admits quietly. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to send you packing." Lena offers a wan smile. "When Lex told me your secret, it felt like none of friendship was real. And when you so easily accepted that we were good that it only deepened my belief that it meant nothing to you."

There's a click in Lena's throat when she swallows.

"I grieved you, Kara. Our friendship... it felt like everything that meant anything had suddenly died. Twice. But-- I respected your choice to not accept my apology."

Kara wants to tell her that she loves Lena for that. As much as it had hurt that Lena didn't try again, that respect is so very Lena. Kara shouldn't have expected anything different.

"But to do so I had to set boundaries of my own," Lena continues. In the pause that follows, Kara thinks that's the end of it, decision made. Lena surprises her again.

"Even so-- what kind of person would I be if I didn't give you the same chance I so desperately wanted for myself?"

A sob of relief bubbles out of Kara. She sniffs, shrugging to rub the tears from her cheeks without breaking the seal of their joined hands. It takes long minutes before Lena can gather her voice again to continue.

"There's no way to go back to the way things were. But maybe..." Lena's breath stutters in her chest. "Maybe we can grow into something better."

Kara offers a tearful smile. "I'd like that."

"I don't have much experience being the bigger person," she murmurs, huffing a quiet chuckle. But her gaze is guardedly hopeful. "I may need some of your guidance."

Kara nods as a fresh round of tears leaks from the corners of her eyes. "Anything you need," she vows.

She squeezes Lena's hands.

"I'll be here."

#supercorp #a heros judgement #angst #the end!!

[sharpestasp]

AvP (Film)

Alexa Woods lives in rarefied environments. The reason she's in just a camisole may have been male gaze, but honestly? She'd be warm in an environment set to be 'chilly-comfortable' for the others.

Her interaction over the gun shows her initial pacifism, and sets the mark for why a yautja would initially ignore her as not-prey.

Sam Troughton doesn't look as much like his dad as Sean Pertwee looks like his.

Her smooth competence on weighing the "panic" situation when Weyland falls, and only making the singular move needed to stop his descent is so on point for later events.

So, same queen since last hunt? If so, how did they get her chained when the xenomorphs broached containment? Do the elders come back to reset the hunting ground?

For that matter, those tubes, the lighting in them? Looks like the young warriors are sent down in cryo. Betting they don't even get a briefing until they uplink their arm-comps -- OR MORE LIKELY -- they have to match their environment to their training to figure out WHICH hunting ground they are on.

This is one of the worst movies for ancient language translation, BTW.

Also, the incubation period on these is... insanely fast. I mean, we know from comics that xenomorphs, like cephalopods, manipulate their genetic structure, either by hatching out from species with needed traits, or just flat out engineering their children. It's one reason Grid is so lethally intelligent in this. Grid is the Queen's ultimate success.

I do like Weyland's ending. He's the only human I can confirm that Scar killed, but I sincerely doubt Chopper and Celtic got all the humans above.

Alexa seeing the truth of allowing the xenomorphs to escape, so clearly.

Her awareness of her environment is UNCANNY.

I really want to know what vital organ she hit to kill the xenomorph that way with the spear.

And I say again, they would have been dead then and there, if Grid hadn't been summoned back to the Queen.

Alexa Woods has a spine of adamantium. Her approach on Scar to insist on going with him is GREAT.

What in hoolies do the yautja make their weapons of, and why is their armor not as acid-resistant, inquiring minds want to know.

Freeing the Queen incorporates something from that AU, Alien3, but instead of Grid choosing sacrifices among its sibs, they all injure the Queen herself. Which makes scary sense; she can take more damage than they can, and they need as many drones as they can keep alive to serve her, drag back prey.

There is a deep deep moment here, with Sebastian, Alexa, and Scar. Her refusing to let Scar kill Sebastian, then doing it herself once Sebastian reminds her the xenomorphs can't reach the surface? It's a clear sign that Scar is responding to her authoritative nature.

Also, may I say, Alexa is the best fucking shape any human can be in. She keeps up with a young yautja. Who is bigger (longer-legged) and from a warrior culture where the weak die.

She failed, she did not bring a single one out alive, and you SEE that as she looks back at what they escaped.

So, because Scar was stupid, he's implanted. He knows it. I wonder what he meant to do if the elders did not arrive quickly enough? He was obviously concerned, to mark Alexa, so the elders would KNOW she was a blooded Hunter.

(By the way, in the book, it's armor they make for her, not just a shield)

Again with that uncanny awareness of environment, avoiding the Queen's jaws.

The renown that Scar would have reaped, having killed a Queen with MELEE weapons... it's immense by comics and novel canon.

Alexa remains the best tool-using being ever.

That ship remains hella impressive. And I LOVE that the two times I saw an Elder gift a weapon to a human, it was a black person. That's like, a key statement, I feel.

And we all know my AU of the ending is Scar gets saved, Alex goes with, no Pred-Alien happens, and the travesty of a sequel remained unmade.

I know I watched Predators after that one. But I have not seen The Predator that came out recently and I have yet to see Prey. I still very much enjoy this movie.

#avp #aliens vs predator #film liveblog

[fixfoxnox]

Something In The Orange - Part 2

Chapter Summary: As Roach's return to the military continues, he learns he isn't as alone as he thought. Time passes, and he gets closer to the 141.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, sorta graphic depictions of violence

Note: This fic is also being posted to my Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there!

Word Count: 7k

"Hold on don't let go

It's worth the climb

These mountains become

Hills over time

And when the what if's

Outweigh all the knowns

You're right where you wanted"

"Hold On" - Cawlings

Getting his name back was the shock that Roach needed to pull that uncertainty that realizing Griggs didn’t remember had brought to him. All at once he felt filled with hope, hope that he didn’t think he’d truly had until that moment. He was one step closer to being himself again, and it felt good. 

As the years went on, Roach’s name stuck, and along with his actual name, he and Jackson made names for themselves within their unit. In fact, they were considered good enough that when Griggs was placed in charge of the Demon Dogs, he requested that Roach and Jackson be transferred to the unit with him. It was a step in the right direction for Roach and he couldn’t help but be pleased. He felt closer than ever to the 141, he just didn’t quite know how close he was.

“I don’t feel good about this.”

Roach turned to raise an eyebrow at Jackson. “Nervous?”

Jackson snorted, “When am I ever nervous?”

Roach gave a chuckle, “Fair point, but hey,” he nudge his side, “You know if you are you can talk to me about it.” Roach pushed himself up further in the back of their transport. He and Jackson sat side by side, whispering to one another to avoid being heard by their teammates across from them. They were being transported to meet up with a soldier by the name of Alex and some resistance fighters. They were supposed to aid them in capturing the elusive Omar Sulaman, also known as the Wolf. “Even if you’re not nervous if you want to talk to me about anything, you can.”

Jackson had been seemingly lost in thought the whole journey to the meetup area. Roach had never seen him like that before, the man almost always seemed to have a rather cool and collected air surrounding him. 

Roach watched with a raised eyebrow as Jackson glanced around the transport almost skittishly before his eyes found Roach’s again. “Okay, but listen, you’re not allowed to say I’m crazy.”

Taken aback, Roach responded, “Of course, what’s up?”

Jackson leaned towards him, “I feel like I’ve been here before.”

Roach shook his head, “I mean, Jackson we’ve been in this area before-”

“No! Not like that, I mean,” Jackson shook his head, “This all feels so familiar to me. The location, the situation, Griggs, being Sergeant Paul Jackson. Hell even the hunt for the Wolf,” he stopped then and muttered something to himself that Roach only just barely caught but was enough to send a shiver down his spine: “at least it isn’t Al-Asad again.”

“Al-Asad?” Roach questioned, “Khaled Al-Asad?”

Jackson stared at him in surprise and disbelief, “Roach? How do you know that name?”

Roach sat up fully then, staring Jackson down, “Al-Asad was a puppet in the middle east, he was being used by Imran Zakhaev. Marines were sent to hunt him down in the middle east but nearly thirty thousand of them died because of a-”

“Nuclear bomb,” Jackson finished for him. The two stared at each other in shock for a moment, understanding slowly filling both of them. “I died when the nuke went off,” Jackson admitted. 

Roach sucked in a breath, no wonder he hadn’t ever heard of Jackson in his old life. There were so many names on that list, and Jackson had never been mentioned in any of the lists of important people who’d died. “I was killed too,” Roach admitted, “Betrayed and shot years later while trying to hunt down Imran Zakhev’s successor.”

“Holy shit,” Jackson muttered, “But you remember. Like me, you remember?”

Roach nodded and the two sat with the new information for several seconds, trying to take in the fact that they’d finally met someone else like them, that they’d been sitting beside each other as friends for years, never knowing that the other had suffered an eerily similar fate to them. 

Just as Roach opened his mouth to ask a question, their transport stopped, the other members of their team climbing out of the truck with no knowledge of the discovery their teammates had just made. Knowing that the two needed to move, Roach settled on, “We’ll talk more later, and hey,” he made sure to look Jackson in the eyes, “I swear this won’t be the same as last time.”

The beginning of the raid was fairly easy thanks to the tanks and air support that followed the ground crew. Alex or Echo 3-1 proved to be useful when the group came to several booby traps set up. Roach made sure to watch Alex disarm them, trying his best to learn the process just in case they needed it later. 

Once they’d made it through the alleys, they were able to meet back up with the tanks, one look at Jackson let Roach know how nervous the other man was becoming, even more so when the tanks were taken out by an IED and they were forced to find cover as they were faced with an onslaught of enemies. 

Very quickly, both Roach and Jackson realized that the onslaught would be too much for the group if they kept on how they were. “Demon 1-2, this is Roach, we need to move now. If we stay here we’ll get pinned down.”

“I’m with Roach, we’ve got to move!” Jackson replied as well, popping up to take out a group of four enemies who had gotten dangerously close to their position. Roach did the same a moment later.

“I agree,” Griggs responded in their ears, suddenly they heard him shout, “Pop smoke and flank, up the high side!”

“Popping smoke!” Alex called. As soon as the grenade popped and smoke began filling the air the group pushed up and engaged the enemies that had been holding them back. They took them down fairly easily, but things could never truly be that simple, a mounted machine gunner coming through on a truck made sure of that. Only a second later and Alex had thrown smoke again, allowing the group to take down the gunner and push further up to flank the retreating enemies. 

The next area came with a machine gunner hidden away in a nest in one of the buildings, his near-constant fire forcing the group to hide until smoke was thrown yet again. “Jackson, Roach, you two stay out here and cover us,” Griggs told them as he and Alex were able to push up to the building with the machine gunner’s nest. 

Roach did as he was told, moving up a bit further to begin mowing down enemies in a way that he’d often been told left “no enemies for everyone else to take down.” Jackson joined him a moment later, their gunfire allowing them to continue to push up further until they’d pushed the enemies back past the building and closer to the hospital that they were aiming for. 

Another moment later and they were joined once again by Griggs, Alex, and the rest of the squad as they continued to push towards the hospital, jumping from cover to cover and doing their best to thin the enemy forces out. As they grew closer, Griggs decided it would be best to call in one of the gunships to aid them, “Demon 1-2 to Red Hammer 7 - We're taking fire from troops defending the south entrance of the hospital - Request immediate suppression, over.” Then, moments later, “Marines! Hold up! We have overhead ordnance comin' hot on this grid!”

Sure enough, moments later and the group were all watching, some cheering as the building lit up with gunfire and missiles. The small break couldn’t last long though and once again the group was on the move up to the hospital, still having to fight their way in. It was once they’d cleared the lobby that Griggs stopped and made his way over to Roach and Jackson. “Jackson, you take three demons and make your way up the back, Roach, you stick with me.” Roach wanted to complain, but Griggs didn’t give any room for that, turning back to rejoin Alex.

“You gonna be okay?” He asked, turning towards Jackson who was looking rather uncomfortable with his marching orders. Roach couldn’t blame him, he was sure that if this mission had been similar in the slightest to the one he’d died on, he’d be nervous as well. 

Jackson nodded to him after a moment, “I’ll make it.” He held a fist out to Roach, “See you on the other side.” Roach gave him a soft smile before bumping their fists together. They both gave each other one last nod before Jackson and his three men were taking off to the other side of the hospital and Roach was rushing to catch up with Griggs and the others. 

The group pushed further into the hospital, suddenly coming face to face with several civilians and Al-Quatala fighters, Roach was quick to call, “Civies ahead!”

“Civilians,” Griggs mimicked, “Check fire! Check fire!”

Very slowly the group progressed, making sure to avoid hitting any of the civilians trying to escape the hospital as they pushed on. Eventually, they made it to the stairs of the second floor, “All stations, Demons are moving up to the second deck. No sign of the Wolf.” Roach could hear Griggs and Alex exchange some words after that, but he ignored them as the group came up to the second floor where they were faced with rooms of wounded and dead civilians. 

“Shit,” Roach breathed out.

“Just… check ‘em,” Roach heard Griggs say, “Check all of ‘em.”

Roach watched carefully as the group made their way into the room, his eyes locking on to one of the civilians ahead who seemed to be more alert than the others. Sure enough, moments later and the “civilian” was jumping for a gun sitting next to him. Roach raised his gun to take out the target, but it seemed that Alex had been paying attention just the same and was quick to send the man to the ground. 

Roach felt relief flood his system as Griggs called that the room was clear, but that relief was quick to fade as he heard Griggs ask into the comms, “1-2 to Demon 3, how copy?” That was Jackson’s group. 

“Demon 3 dropped off, sergeant,” Another member of the team mentioned.

“Shit,” Griggs said, “Find them!” he called to the team. Roach felt like his heart was in his throat. He nearly wished he had a cross around his neck then, some form of comfort that would help him feel as though his prayer for his friend's safety would actually work.

The group continued pushing up into the building only to be met with a long hallway where Al-Quatala had set up another machine gunner at the end of the hallway. The rest of the team held back, but Roach, determined to get to his friend quicker, and Alex alternated throwing out smoke grenades that allowed them to slowly move up, taking out enemies along their way to the gunner’s nest where eventually Alex dropped the man and the rest of the team was able to move up behind them. 

Finally, the group pushed up to the room that held the man they’d come for, the Wolf. Griggs and Alex used the snake cam to see what was going on inside and after a moment Alex pulled back to report, “Positive ID on the Wolf, three marine hostages. He’s gonna kill them, we’ve got to breach.”

Roach felt his heart drop when he learned that there were only three in the room. He could only hope that one of them was Jackson. As Alex moved around the back of the room to flank them, Roach moved in position to breach. 

When the go was called the group bust into the room and took about the Al-Quatala fighters that were left standing, Alex already pinning the Wolf to the ground. 

Roach was quick to move around and help untie each of the Marines, noting with dread that Jackson wasn’t among them. “Sergeant, Jackson’s not here.”

Griggs turned from where he’d been speaking to Alex and after taking in the three marines he let out a curse. He walked over to one of the Marines who was a bit more present, “Hey, brother, where’s Jackson?”

The man took a moment to respond before, “Trip mine on the way up, the Al-Quatala fighters set it off while we were close to it. Jackson took the brunt of it so they left him behind.

Griggs was quick to look over to Roach, “Roach.”

That was all Roach needed and soon he was darting out of the room and heading as quickly as he could down the winding hallways of the path that the marines would have taken. He could feel his heart in his throat and he knew that a few other Marines were racing after him, but he wouldn’t dare stop to wait for them, not when Jackson could be dead on the ground at that point. 

“Jackson? Paul!” Roach turned down one of the hallways and immediately spotted where the trip wire had been set off. It took him only a moment later to spot his friend. Sergeant Paul Jackson was laying in a pool of his own blood, one of his legs mangled beyond anything Roach had seen on anyone living. 

Roach slid to his knees next to his friend, checking his pulse and finding a weak one fairly quickly. He moved as fast as he could then, kneeling just above Jackson’s bleeding leg, where he guessed the artery was, and placing his full body weight there. He was quick to pull his scarf out from around his neck then a carabiner from his belt. He wrapped the scarf around Jackson’s leg did his first loop and tightened it as much as he could. He looped the scarf through the carabiner next tying that as tight as he could. Immediately after he started to twist the thing around. Just as he continued twisting it two of the other marines ran around the corner, both stopping short at the sight of Jackson.

Roach continued twisting but quickly barked out, “Left, you call medics, right, see if you can find an actual tourniquet, NOW!”

As the two marines lept into action Roach turned his attention back to the task at hand and finished turning the carabiner to the best of his ability. Holding it as tight as he could, he pulled a rubber band off of his wrist and used it to secure the makeshift tourniquet before using the ends of his scarf to add another layer of security and ensure it stayed tightened.

He kept pressure on Jackson’s leg with his own body weight as well, hoping that it would help keep his friend from tipping over into death's arms. It wasn’t even ten minutes later and the medical evac team was swarming the hallway. One of the medics took over holding the pressure the same as Roach had and within a few seconds Jackson was being attached to a cot and moved outside to be airlifted to the nearest working hospital. 

Roach followed the medics the whole way out, watching as Jackson was lifted up into the air and carried off. It wasn’t until a medic approached him that he pulled his gaze away from the chopper.

“Are you hurt?”

Roach looked down at himself, finally noticing the blood that soaked his hands and his clothes. “No,” he spoke quietly, “It’s not my blood.”

Roach didn’t get to visit Jackson until a few weeks later when he finally had a bit of leave that he immediately used up to rush to the hospital where his friend had found himself a resident for the time being. 

The nurse was kind enough to point him in the direction of Jackson’s room. Roach walked as fast as he could to the room without running down the hallway, quite a feat in his opinion. 

He stopped dead outside of the room when he arrived, finding that Jackson's room was nearly filled to the brim with people that he could only assume were the man’s family. Roach watched silently from the door, observing the way that Jackson laughed at something one of his family members said. It made the heaviness that had settled on his chest over the past few weeks disappear. Seeing his friend with color back in his cheeks and so full of life was enough for Roach.

Just as Roach turned to leave he heard a call, “Sanderson?”

He turned back abruptly to find the eyes of every person in the room looking at him. His nerves shot up, but he did his best to focus his gaze on Jackson who was giving him a wide grin. “You’ve not called me that in a while.”

Jackson shrugged, “I figured it would seem less rude to my family if I called you Sanderson, you know some people probably wouldn’t take too kindly to being called Roach.” Jackson turned to his family then, “Guys, this is Gary Sanderson, we call him Roach. He’s the one who applied the tourniquet to my leg.”

In a flash, Roach was being dragged into the hospital room with numerous people crying and pulling him into hugs. All he could do was look to Jackson for help, but the man seemed to find his awkwardness amusing as he just gave a shrug and a grin to his friend. Eventually, after hearing nearly everyone’s thanks for saving Jackson, the group decided to leave the two alone for a few minutes. 

Roach sat down shakily next to Jackson’s bedside. There was a comfortable silence that filled the air for a moment, neither quite sure where to start. Finally, Jackson broke the silence. “What have you heard?”

Roach shook his head, “Griggs just gave us the basics. You were alive, stable, they had to amputate your leg.”

Jackson nodded, taking in Roach’s words for a moment, “The doctors said if it hadn’t been for your tourniquet I would have been a goner.” Roach felt nauseous at those words. If he’d been any later or hadn’t been able to stem the bleeding…the thought of what could have happened sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ve been honorably discharged, of course.”

“How do you feel about that?” Roach asked after a minute. Jackson took a second to answer, considering his words carefully.

“Honestly?” He asked after a moment, Roach encouraging him with a nod, “Honestly, it's a bit of a relief.” Jackson turned to look fully at Roach, “I joined the military again because, well, I thought it would be the only way I could get back to normal.” He shook his head, “Then when I got back into it, I just felt…afraid. Afraid and sad I guess.” He let out a sigh, “I think I’m ready to live a life outside of the military, to really use my second chance.”

Roach nodded, fiddling with his hands for a moment, “I’m gonna miss you in the squad.” He paused, “I know that’s a bit selfish, but it’s the truth.”

Jackson let out a barked laugh, “It’s not selfish, I’ll miss seeing your dumb ass on the daily too.” Roach let out a chuckle at that, “And hey, I expect some phone calls, and maybe even some visits from time to time.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Roach threw out playfully. There was another bout of silence for a moment before suddenly Jackson was fixing Roach with a hard and serious look that took most of the air out of his lungs in an instant. 

“Listen to me Roach, I know what it feels like to be you, desperately reaching for the normalcy of a life that's gone. Do not let it consume you.” Roach looked away, “I’m serious Roach. I know that you think getting back to some semblance of your old life will help, but that may not be an option. If you let your old life control you, you’ll get yourself killed.” There was a pause, “Tell me you understand.”

Roach gave a hesitant nod, but it wasn’t until he gave a fully confident one that Jackson leaned back in his bed, tiredness in his eyes but satisfaction clear on his face. After a moment Roach stood, “I’ve got to get back to base. Get some rest, Paul.” 

He moved to leave the room only to be stopped by a call of his name from Jackson. He turned only to be forced to catch a box the man threw at him. “A replacement,” was all Jackson said in response to his look of confusion, “Stay safe, Roach.”

Roach didn’t open the box until he was back on base and in the safety of his bunk. It was a nice little red box, nothing fancy aside from the ribbon that kept it closed. He carefully pulled the ribbon to the side, setting it down beside him before lifting the lid off the box. A small smile crossed his face as he took in the contents. 

Folded neatly in the box was a scarf, meant to replace the one he’d used to make the tourniquet for Jackson’s leg. It was a similar beige to his last one, though this one had a few more embellishments, particularly a few embroidered bugs that decorated the edges of the scarf. 

He pulled it delicately from the box and saw that one corner of the scarf had also been embroidered with “Roach” in black. 

Roach set the scarf out on his lap, observing it for a moment longer with a smile on his face before his eyes trailed up and locked on to the bunk next to his, where Jackson had slept for the past several years. He felt the smile fall from his face as, for the first time in years, a feeling of loneliness settled onto his shoulders. 

The next three years were rather lonely for Roach. He continued to make visits with Jackson, his friend having been released from the hospital a few months after the hunting party for the Wolf. Roach couldn’t spend all of his time with Jackson though, so he decided it was time to refocus himself and return to the reason he’d come back to the military in the first place. 

Soon after the end of the operation to capture the Wolf, Roach decided he needed to leave the Demon Dogs. While he appreciated being brought onto a specialized team with Griggs, Roach also recognized that he was unlikely to be scouted out of the group. Military respect went a long way and almost no one would be willing to swipe up a member of another team. So, he returned to a regular squad with glowing reviews from Griggs added to his file. 

While Roach couldn’t exactly check to see if the 141 had already formed, he could keep an ear to the ground and piece things together with his own knowledge, which is exactly how he learned that this world had its own Shepherd, and the man had already betrayed his country. 

“...officials are saying a power surge is to blame for an explosion over downtown Chicago last night due to severe winds leaving thousands of residents in the dark.”

Roach found that listening to the radio in between missions wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t the real reason he’d taken to sitting at the second level of the training complex. No, the real reason was quite simple. Roach found that the second level of the training complex was the perfect area to listen in on others' conversations. Particularly some of the higher-ups on the base, as well as the soldiers who liked to use an area nearby for their breaks. 

At first, he’d felt bad about the practice, eavesdropping wasn’t exactly something he liked to do. Soon that guilt disappeared. He found that people on base knew that he would frequently sit and rest at the training area, but none of them thought it wise to move to different locations for their conversation. If his fellow soldiers weren’t bothered, then Roach wasn’t either. 

“Yeah sure, power surge.”

“What? You think something else was going on?”

“I don’t think, I know.” Roach perked up a bit at the voice. Private Smith, a rather chatty and egotistical newcomer to the unit, but a newcomer with a lot of good information on things going on outside of the base. He was behind the training center nearly every night to smoke and chat shit with one of his friends on base. “You know my brother works at the pentagon?”

“Course, he’s pretty up there in rank.”

“Well, he told me that the explosion was actually from a missile.”

“No fucking way dude.”

“No seriously! Apparently, General Shepherd was illegally sending missiles to some guys in Russia, but Al-Quatala got a hold of them. They launched one at the Pentagon.”

Roach could feel his heart start beating faster at the mention of Shepherd, he’d hoped that Shepherd of all people wouldn’t have made it over to this new world. Or, that this world's Shepherd would be dead before he’d had a chance to come across him. 

“Shit dude, tell me they brought the asshole in?”

“Nah, coward dipped before the guys could grab him.”

Roach felt his stomach churn at the news. He brought a hand up to his throat, hoping somehow the pressure would keep him from puking his guts up. Not only was Shepherd still alive, but he was missing. Out, somewhere in the world, was the man who’d killed Roach and the man he loved. 

“Man, I wonder what squad got caught cleaning that mess up.”

“It was a multinational group,” Roach snapped back to the men’s conversation then, his entire world came to a stop as he froze completely, “My brother called them Taskforce 141.”

That day couldn’t really let Roach’s emotions rest. His luck had never been good enough for that. 

With the hit that learning Shepherd was alive, came the warring feeling of joy in learning that Taskforce 141 was still around and already in action. Those two things alone would have kept Roach up all night, but the world decided that it wasn’t quite enough. That night, on a Russian plane, a terrorist attack occurred, with only one of the attackers left behind to be found, an American.

Luckily the attack hadn’t been enough to bring about WW3, something Roach was grateful to learn after weeks of anxiety after Makarov’s terrorist attack. No one but him and, maybe, Taskforce 141 knew it was Makarov, but Russia and the US were much more willing to try to avoid war in this life, something Roach was endlessly thankful for. 

Over those weeks Roach had found himself clutching the cross necklace he’d made a point to get after that fateful mission with Jackson. He didn’t find himself returning to the religion that he’d abandoned before joining the military in his first life, he didn’t think he could ever do that. But, he found that the weight of the cross provided him with comfort and reminded him of the home and family that he had in this life. He was sure he’d switch it out eventually, but for now, it did the job he needed it to. 

It was while fiddling with his cross and trying not to let his mind spiral during dinner that Roach overheard two of the cadets at one of the nearby tables discussing the new arrivals at the base. He didn’t pay any mind to them at first, knowing that people were constantly coming on and off of the base, and with that the soldiers were constantly gossiping. So it wasn’t the discussion of the new arrivals that caught Roach’s attention, but rather what they were saying about the new arrivals. 

“You see those guys that touched down today?”

“The Europeans?”

“Yeah!”

Roach was already tuned in to the conversation at the mention of Europeans, it wasn’t every day that the base hosted SAS or other European forces. Still, he was only loosely paying attention. 

“Yeah dude, those guys were weird as hell. And talk about breaking regulation?”

“I know! The guy with the mohawk? Like seriously?”

“The mohawk guy? I was talking more about the dude with the creepy skull mask. He caught me looking at him and I really thought he was going to shoot me.”

Standing from the table abruptly caught the attention of a good few people, but Roach paid them no mind, shooting out an excuse about feeling tired before oh so quickly leaving the cafeteria and rushing to the outside of the base. It was already late, so he did his best to quickly pinpoint where exactly the Taskforce would have gone. 

There was no doubt that the team would end up speaking with the Platoon Sergeant of the unit Roach was on, and, knowing his SFC, the discussion would be likely to pass by Roach’s usual perch at the training area. So, taking a chance, Roach took off towards the training area, hoping above all hope that he wasn’t too late and would be able to catch sight of the people he’d spent his entire life trying to find again. 

The rush up to the second story of the training area was nothing new, and nothing that had to be rushed as nearly an hour passed with nothing happening. Roach tried not to be impatient as he waited, but after waiting almost an entire life again to see them, he felt he had a right to be impatient. Luckily he didn’t have to wait much longer than an hour. 

Just as he started to believe that he’d been too late, his straining ears could hear a number of people approaching, being led by his Sergeant. 

“...up there is our training area.”

“We’ll want to see your men run it. Along with a few other tests.” Roach easily identified the voice as belonging to Captain Price. He felt his heart skip a beat, knowing that just below him were the members of Taskforce 141. 

“Right. Listen, Price, I have to ask. What is this about?” Roach could hear the group stop just below where he sat. “You know you’re welcome here, but why exactly do you need to see my men run the training area? And you asked for their files? I’d like to not be kept in the dark on my own base.”

Roach could hear a bit of shuffling around below, his mind racing as he took in the information. Could Price be scouting for new members of the 141?

Finally, there was a sigh before, “You know about the terrorist attack right?”

“The one on the plane in Russia? What about it?”

“It was organized by a man named Makarov, he’d hoped to start a war between the US and Russia. It failed. For now.”

“...you’re going after him?”

Roach tried to ignore the way that his nerves had been set alight at the confirmation of Makarov's existence in this world. Needing a distraction, he began slowly peeking over the edge of the training area, hoping that if he moved slowly enough, he would go unnoticed. It seemed to work as soon he was looking over the edge of the training area and down at the group below him. 

The first person his eyes locked onto was Captain Price. The man looked exactly the same as Roach remembered, though maybe a bit younger than he’d been when Roach had met him in his first life. Still, he was eerily similar to the way he’d been when Roach had last seen him, all the way down to the facial hair and hat that Roach had always secretly thought was a bit silly. It was, oddly enough, nice to see the man. Even though Roach hadn’t spent much time with the Captain, he was a friendly face from the 141 and a man that Soap had trusted more than anyone else. 

The darker-skinned man next to him was unfamiliar to Roach, so his eyes skipped over to the next person who happened to be none other than Soap. Soap also looked extremely similar to how Roach remembered him, though he had to admit, far younger. The most notable difference was that his beard wasn’t fully grown in, instead being nothing more than what Roach would call a bit of scruff. The sight of Soap had a happy feeling fluttering through Roach’s chest. The two had become close friends during Roach’s time on the 141, and the man had been one of the few people that Roach worked with who had never abandoned him during a scenario where lady luck tried to take him out. 

Soap was standing quite close to another person, and it wasn’t until Roach locked his eyes onto the different, yet easily recognizable, skeleton mask that he realized exactly who it was. Ghost. 

Roach couldn’t see his face, but that didn’t matter, this was how Roach knew him to be a majority of the time. He felt his heart pick up the pace and his cheeks flush. After all the years Roach had spent trying to hold on to the memory of the man he loved, he’d been terribly worried that when he finally saw Ghost again, things would be too different. Seeing Ghost and feeling that rush of affection through his body was one of the best feelings in the world. 

Roach couldn’t pull his eyes away from the man, trying desperately to commit the sight of him to memory as Captain Price continued to speak. 

“Aye, we’re going after him. It’s an assassination mission at its core, but the unfortunate fact is that we need another person.”

“Why?” 

Price glanced back at his team, “We’re only four. While we’re experienced, we don’t know the area and Makarov is clever. We want one of your men to be our guide.”

“If they’re just a guide, then why the pickiness on who you choose?”

“They’ve got to be able to hold their own,” The darker-skinned individual chimed in. Based on his voice, Roach connected that he was British and started to run through the names of possible people who he could be. The closeness to Price rang in his mind. He remembered Soap mentioning an old teammate who’d died in the hunt for Zhakaev. Was it Gaz?

“This is a very dangerous op, if they aren’t good, it might be that none of us make it out alive.”

This was Roach’s opportunity. Though it was supposed to be temporary, perhaps if he proved himself it would turn into something a bit more permanent. It was exactly what he’d been waiting for. The conversation continued between the group, but Roach’s eyes moved back to Ghost, once again taking time to just watch. 

Ghost’s mask looked different, though Roach was sure it was something that the Ghost from his past life would have loved to have. He couldn’t help but wonder how this Ghost had made the mask.

It was while Roach was absentmindedly following this line of thought that Ghost began looking around the area, as though alerted to a pair of eyes baring down on him. It didn’t take very long for his eyes to drift up to where Roach was peeking out from the training area. 

When their eyes met, Roach was quick to drop back down so he couldn’t be seen, an icy feeling flooding his system at the knowledge that he was caught. Sure enough, only a second later and he could hear Ghost’s voice. 

“Quiet! We’re being watched.”

“What?”

“Training area, second floor.”

“Woah, Woah! Put the weapons up!” Roach could have laughed. Of course, the taskforces first reaction would be to pull their weapons.

“We need to go see who that is. It could be one of Makarov’s men!” Price’s voice was hard. Roach could hear the hatred for Makarov in his voice, a hatred that was similar to what Roach had heard from the man in his past life. 

“It’s not one of Makarov’s men! Just, just hold on.” The Sergeant sounded a bit tired and Roach winced, knowing exactly what was about to happen. “Sanderson?”

Roach considered his options. He could just run off back to the barracks, but with his luck, he’d get caught and be in more trouble than it was worth. His Sergeant already knew it was him, so what point was there in trying anyways? So, with those quick thoughts in his mind, he decided to just bite the bullet and stand. He didn’t quite like that this was the 141’s first time meeting him, but he couldn’t control everything. 

He pushed himself to his feet and ever so hesitantly peeked out from behind the wall of the training area until finally he could be fully seen. “Sergeant,” he nodded meekly. 

“How long you been up there soldier?” Came the harsh-sounding question from Price. 

Roach winced a bit. He’d always made an effort not to get in trouble on base, he absolutely despised being yelled at. “About an hour and a half sir.” He responded. 

Price seemed a bit surprised at that answer, but Roach’s Sergeant chimed in on his behalf, “There was no malicious intent or following Price. Roach likes to sit up on the second deck of the training area. Everyone on base knows that if you stop here to talk he may overhear you.” The Sergeant ran a hand down his face, “It’s my fault for not remembering.”

“Roach?” Came the question from Soap.

“It’s what everyone calls him, he’s had the name practically since he enlisted.”

“I remember your file,” Came the voice of Price. Roach’s eyes shot over to him. “You used to be on Grigg’s squad right? The Demon Dogs?”

“Yes sir,” Roach responded.

“You were on one of the teams that helped with the initial capture of the Wolf. What are you doing back on a basic squad like this? No offense Sergeant.” Roach watched as his Sergeant waved Price off before everyone’s gaze was once again directed at him.

Roach shuffled for a moment before clearing his throat. He couldn’t exactly tell them he’d left the Demon Dogs in hopes of eventually joining their task force, so instead, he offered the next available truth he could. “I joined the Unit with Sergeant Paul Jackson. He was the reason I joined. During the mission for the Wolf, he was injured, an injury that resulted in his discharge. I didn’t really have a reason to stay anymore.”

There was a moment of silence before Price nodded to him. “How much of our conversation did you hear, Roach?”

There was silence for a moment as Roach shuffled awkwardly. “Almost the entire thing sir.”

Price nodded, “Can I trust that you won’t go sharing this around the base?”

Roach nodded rapidly, “Wouldn’t have anyone to tell even if I wanted to sir. And even if I did, you’d know it was me who spread the word.”

Price gave a bit of a chuckle, “I suppose that’s true. Go to bed, Roach. I want you at the top of your game for the tests tomorrow.” Price gave a dismissive nod and, with one last look to Ghost, who was giving him a rather scrutinizing look, Roach gave a salute to his Sergeant before turning and scurrying down the training area, his heart beating rapidly in his chest the entire way back to the barracks.  

“You’re thinking about the eavesdropper?” Gaz asked with a bit of surprise as he spotted Price looking over the file of one Gary “Roach” Sanderson. 

“The lad seems a bit meek to help us out on this Price,” Soap called from his place beside Ghost. Ghost wasn’t very touchy, but he’d allowed an exception for Soap who was pressed right at his side with his head on his shoulder tiredly. 

“Only meek because we caught him out I think,” Price responded. Roach’s file was filled with glowing reviews from practically anyone and everyone who’d met him. He had a number of amazing accomplishments in his file as well. Price was quite surprised to see that he wasn’t a higher rank, that and that he hadn’t already been scooped up by a special ops team. Of course, there were the Demon Dogs which, according to Griggs’ letter in Roach’s file, he’d excelled in. According to his file, he’d turned down only a few offers to join special ops teams and all but ignored applying for promotions. “Kids file is insane.”

“Good insane or bad insane?” Gaz questioned, leaning over Price’s shoulder. 

“Look for yourself.” Price slid the computer in front of Gaz, allowing the other man to see the file better. 

Gaz let out a low whistle, “And the kids only on a basic team? The fuck’s wrong with him?”

Price chuckled, “Nothing wrong with him, apparently it's more like what’s wrong with the teams. He’s turned down offers from six different ones.”

“I wonder what he’s waiting for.” The line came from Ghost, ever the silent member of the team. It was a bit of a surprise to hear him speak on the subject. 

“Maybe people?” Soap questioned, “Kid said he only joined the Demons cause of that Sergeant Jackson and left after he did.”

Price let out a humming noise and used the database to pull up the file of one Sergeant Paul Jackson. “Let’s see here. According to Jackson’s file, the two were essentially partners on their teams. They were with Griggs before he formed the demons. Hold on…shit.”

“What?”

“During the hunt for the wolf, I thought the kid was on one of the Demon teams that were covering from the outside.” Price turned the computer to Gaz again and pulled out his phone, “The kid was on the primary team. With Alex.”

“Who are you calling?”

“I’m getting the opinion of someone I trust.” 

The room was quiet as the phone rang for a few moments, finally, on the last ring, someone answered. “Price?”

“Alex. Don’t worry, the world isn’t ending.”

“Well, that’s a relief. What do you need?”

“I was wondering if you remembered a Gary Sanderson, would’ve been called Roach, he was one of the Demon Dogs that was with you and Griggs when you went after the Wolf. He would have been with a Sergeant Paul Jackson.”

“Scouting for new members?” Alex chuckled for a moment, “Yeah, I remember the kid. Hard to forget someone with skill like that.”

“Yeah?” Price asked, “Tell me.”

“Kid was good, really good. Helped me push up a blocked hallway with a machine gunner nest at one end without taking a shot kinda good.” He paused for a moment, “I think the biggest thing from that mission though was the deal with Jackson. Guy got injured and would have bled out if it wasn’t for Roach. He applied an emergency tourniquet to the guy's leg, was good enough that Jackson got out with only losing his leg. If anyone else had found him? I’m pretty sure the guy would’ve been a goner.”

Price took in the information with a nod, “And his shooting?”

Alex let out a low whistle, “He’s good, really good. Have you watched his end-of-basics test yet?” Alex responded, “Watch it. That was the kids shooting after basic, imagine how good he is now.” There was a moment of quiet before, “Hey, I hate to do this but I gotta go, something just came up with Farah.”

“Alright, thanks for the help.” Price was already pulling up the video from Roach’s file before he hung up. 

“A glowing review from Keller too,” Gaz commented. “Kid must be good.”

“We’ll see,” Price said simply.

Prev: Part 1

Next: Part 3

#call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john price #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #ghost x roach #ghost x soap #simon riley #gary sanderson #gary roach sanderson #paul jackson #kyle gaz garrick

[countrymusiclover]

35 - Letter Storm

Part 36

Country Rancher

Tags @whateverthecostner @rosie-posie08 @kaycejdutton @kayceduttonn @kcloveswrestling @the-morning-star-falls @kaymudd @hcwthewestwaswcn

Thunder roared outside the large windows of the Dutton house. Kayce and I had called in today and asked the assistant to call us if it was an emergency. I had started working at the Livestock Office again since the Sheriff and I no longer have issues. Rummaging around in the bag that Bree had found the other day with letters from Spencer and Cara Dutton. Picking up the pile of papers I headed into the living room seeing my husband sitting on the couch. "Where are the kids at, Kayc?"

"Tate is playing with the twins inside the barn. And I think Carter and Bree are upstairs thinking of baby names. Oh and don't tell her but I took one of the security cameras from work and hid it in her room." He sends me a smirk while I round the couch plopping down beside him.

Raising a brow at his words there were some times that he went overboard. This was one of those moments. "Kayce, don't you think that is a little much. I mean she's already pregnant."

"Doesn't mean they can't still sleep together again, darling. What are those letters you have?" He draped his arm behind me scooting closer seeing the envelopes in my lap.

Unfolding one of the letters I had pulled out I lay my head on his chest with him moving his arm to wrap around my waist. "Bree found them one morning. I haven’t read any of them so I just thought it would be interesting too. They seem to be dated from your ancestors named Spencer and Cara Dutton.”

"Well go ahead and read one then." He told me simply looking up at the window seeing that the rain was starting to pick up and hit the glass softly.

Shifting so I was snuggled up against his warm embrace I cleared my throat attempting to read the old handwriting. "Alex, I am not good at writing. I am just a man of action who doesn't waste moments in life. When I met you I was struggling with what happened during the war. I didn't really care what happened when I was hunting animals. You have made my life better since then so I decided to write this letter to you. For when we are reunited at my family's ranch. I will find a way back to you, Spencer."

"I think I remember dad mentioning that there was a hunter in our family. What do the other ones say, Y/n?" He asked me to move some of them around and hand me another one. He honestly enjoyed it when I would read to him like he was still a child. I figured it had something to do with losing his mother at such a young age.

I did wish some days that I could get to know my mother in law. Be able to tell her how much I loved and adored her youngest son. That she could see her beautiful grandchildren the way John does. Evelyn Dutton was missed by everyone in this household. "Um let's see. Oh here's one that's written from Alex I think…Dear Spencer, I am burning to be with you again. I managed to get off the ship we were on and am now hoping to find passage to Montana. My love for you only grows during the time we are apart. Until we reunite, my love.”

“Awe this is so sweet. I can’t believe that they were separated.” My husband responded back, lifting up and meeting my gaze. We heard footsteps coming from down the stairs where we both turned our heads seeing our daughter and Carter.

Bree had her bag in her hands, sending me a look. “Hey mom. Dad, could we go get something to eat in town. I am craving ice cream and we are out?”

Kayce and I turned our heads back at each other both sharing the same look. The rain had stopped for a little bit and it wasn’t supposed to storm any worse until later tonight. “I guess so but just remember that you need to be back before the storm comes. I don’t want any of my children outside tonight.”

“We will be. Thanks uh…Mrs. Dutton.” Carter tipped his hat, taking my daughter’s hand in his, leading her out the front door towards the truck since he was old enough to drive now.

It was an hour after they left that the thunder and lightning had begun picking up. Kayce had gone to bring the other kids inside the house and close up the barn. Closing the fridge I had put some microwaved pizza on some plates giving them to the kids to eat. Kayce and I had crawled into bed where he opened one of the drawers of the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled out a notepad showing it to me. “I went and snooped in our daughter's room and I found this. I think that’s why she was keeping the letters.”

“She was thinking of baby names. Jewels, Gordon, Harrison, Spencer and Olivia.” I read off the names on the list seeing the lights of the house flickering on and then remained off longer where when they came back on we heard multiple sets of feet on the wooden floor.

The bedroom door got kicked open suddenly where we lifted up noticing that Elsa and Dallas were huddled together. “Mommy, can we sleep with you?” She asked, squeezing her teddy bear to her chest.

“Of course, sweetie.” I patted the bedside where she ran forward climbing up and getting in between her daddy and I.

Kayce turned his focus back to his younger son seeing that he was standing in the doorway. “You want up here too, bud. You’re mother and I don’t mind.” The lights went off again where he made a noise at us.

He still remained standing there glancing out into the hallway until I heard Tate’s voice. “Dad, he’s acting like me…I thought I was too old too - ah!” He jumped now standing behind his younger brother, sending us a concerned look.

“Come on Tate. Age don’t matter right now.” Tossing the covers aside I picked up my little boy in my arms waiting for Kayce’s other child to climb in our bed. The power completely went out where the twins latched onto us in fear.

Tate layed his head on my stomach hearing the front door get slammed open telling us that his sister was home. I didn’t feel like getting out of the bed so I just texted her that I was happy she was safe. “At least they got home safe. Now our kids are here.” Kayce draped his arm over my shoulder kissing my forehead.

Shutting my eyes I was about asleep until my phone went off on the nightstand. I scooted myself out of the bed doing my best to not wake up the kids since it was hard enough getting them to sleep when there was a heavy storm. Stepping into the hallway I didn’t check the caller ID. “Hello who is this exactly?”

“Y/n, this is Jamie. There’s some interesting information I discovered recently. And I don’t think you want your children to learn what their grandpa really does on that ranch.” He responded through the phone making me glance over my shoulder seeing that Kayce was still fast asleep.

Pressing the phone back to my ear I whispered. “What do you want from me, Jamie. And under no circumstances will you come after my children.”

“I want John to pay. What I want from you is help me become Governor or I will pull up your records with the sheriff and bring all that past drama back into your life.” The former Dutton threatened where I hung up the phone running my fingers through my hair heading back to bed. Jamie had no right to do any kind of threat against me.

#country rancher #kayceduttonxreader #kayce dutton x fem!reader #kayce dutton x reader #kayce dutton #luke grimes #oc : bree dutton #oc : dallas dutton #oc : elsa dutton #carter yellowstone #yellowstone tv #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone series #yellowstone #ryan yellowstone #yellowstone season 5 #wattpad fanfiction #ask box is open for feedback #comments really appreciated #rip x beth #beth wheeler #rip wheeler #cole hauser #kelly reilly #john dutton #kevin costner #kayce dutton x reader fanfiction #yellowstone tv show #jamie dutton #tate dutton

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

SUMMARY: Robyn struggles with learning something new. Meanwhile, Jake and Robyn spend the day together and decide to open up to one another.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter is a long one. Longer than I'd anticipated, actually. But there was so much I wanted to cover, and I didn't want to put it off until later.

SONG CREDITS: "Tupelo Honey," by Van Morrison

IMAGE CREDITS:

🌟 Dancer's Feet - Shutterstock

🌟 Pumpkin Patch - Stocksnap.io

🌟 Tupelo Honey - Nyssa Ogeche

     "All right, ladies! This is where the real fun begins. This is where you get to let go of your inhibitions and show 'em what you're made of. Follow my lead!"

     Dancing in the back of the class, Robyn's eyes widened in shock as the instructor - a vivacious and charismatic dancer with blonde hair and a fit figure - gyrated her hips and torso in a sensual manner. As she mimicked the instructor's movements, moving along to the beat of the pulsing music, Robyn found herself torn between the desire to cut loose and the need to hold back. It was one thing to move seductively when she was in the company of a man. Then, and only then, was it natural for her to sway her hips just so. But to let go like this, in front of a crowd of people? This was definitely outside of her comfort zone.

     Sam, on the other hand, wasn't inhibited. As she gyrated her hips and torso in time with the music, she couldn't help but glance over at Robyn. "Hey, Rob! She told us to gyrate!"

     "I AM gyrating!" Robyn responded through gritted teeth, her eyes focused on the instructor.

     "You look like you have rigor mortis. Loosen up!"

     "I'm TRYING!"

     A woman to Sam's left scowled, having grown tired of the friends' bickering. "Will you two shut up? I'm tryin' to dance here!"

     "Didn't think you could dance with a stick up your ass!" Sam snapped at the other woman, who rolled her eyes and flipped her hair with attitude. After giving the woman a warning glare, Sam continued. "Look, Rob. You wanted to take this class for a reason: to loosen up and have fun. So loosen up and have fun."

     Robyn couldn't deny the truth of Sam's words. After all, she was the one who'd decided to sign up for freestyle dance classes. She was sick and tired of sitting on the sidelines and watching as Sam and Chloe danced with confidence. Hadn't she promised herself that she would try different things and embrace new experiences? Didn't she owe it to herself to let go and have fun?

     Robyn and the other students spun together in unison, coming to a stop when the music ended. As the students began to disperse, Robyn and Sam wandered over to one of the benches. The woman who'd complained about them gave them yet another nasty look and one more hair flip before she stomped off.

     "Good luck with that stick removal surgery, Karen!" Sam called out, amused when the woman flipped her off on the way out.

     "One of these days, you're going to get yourself into trouble. And knowing my luck, I'll be caught in the crossfire," Robyn warned, grinning in spite of herself.

     Sam waved off Robyn's comment. "Seriously, Rob. You have to loosen up. If it helps ... just pretend that you're Jennifer Beals in Flashdance."

     "You know she didn't do her own dancing. Right?" Robyn said before she took a sip from her water bottle.

     "That's not the point. When Alex was on stage, she was confident. She owned the room. She was a fuckin' goddess. She danced her heart out because she loved it. Just be like her."

     "How?"

     "Block out everyone else. Focus on the music and the way it makes you feel."

     The two women gathered their belongings, heading for the door. "Is that what you do?"

     "Yup. When I dance, I do it for me. I don't care about impressing people. I'm there to blow off steam and have fun. You just need to stop thinking and start moving. The other people in the club? They're too busy having fun to give a fuck about anything else."

     "Stop thinking. Start moving. Got it." They turned a corner, the building's exit in sight. "It's just so hard to not criticize every movement I make." They stepped outside and leaned against the wall, waiting for their Uber driver to arrive. "I blame my stepmother."

     "Of course you do." Sam rolled her eyes, fishing a cigarette out of the pack.

     "You don't know what she's like, Sam. She's a perfectionist. I know she loves me. She's given me no reason to doubt that. But even now, all these years later, I can still hear her voice in my head, saying: 'No, no, no! You're not doing it right! Try harder!' "

     Sam blew out a perfect circle of smoke, giving Robyn a teasing smirk. "You hear voices in your head? You need help." When her friend remained downcast, she continued. "She's really that bad?"

     "Yes. I love my family. But when I'm around my stepmother, I feel like I'll never be good enough."

     "That sucks." Robyn nodded in agreement. "But you still keep in touch with them. Right?"

     "Of course. We exchange letters. Postcards. I video chat with my sister and brother every other week." Robyn paused, kicking a pebble off of the sidewalk. "They want me to come home, Sam." She glanced at her friend, giving her a smile when she saw her expression. "Not for a permanent stay. My parents' anniversary is at the end of November."

     "Are you going?"

     "Yes. The ticket has been purchased. Arrangements have been made. Rebecca has given me approval to go on holiday for two weeks." Robyn fell silent for a moment. "I want to see my family. I do."

     "You just don't want to deal with Mommy Dearest breathing down your neck. I get it." When Robyn looked at her, Sam raised a brow. "You think you're the only one who's gone through something like this? Why do you think I left Chicago?" The Uber driver pulled the car up to the curb, and Sam tossed her cigarette to the ground. Grinding it out with the toe of her tennis shoe, she said "Look. We all have demons we need to face. Yours just happens to come in the form of an over-critical stepmother."

     Sliding into the back of the car, Robyn muttered "Oh, joy."

     After providing her address to the driver, Sam gave Robyn a playful nudge. "So, how are things between you and the sexy bartender? Things looked pretty hot and heavy between you two at the baseball game. I thought we were going to have to turn a hose on you two."

     Robyn blushed, rolling her eyes. "He was just teaching me the proper swinger's stance. He wasn't feeling me up. And to answer your question, things are fine."

     Sam eyed her skeptically. "You still want to jump each other's bones every time you're around each other, though."

     Letting out a sigh, Robyn nodded. "Yes. I don't know what it is, Sam! I've never felt so attracted to someone before."

     "It's the bad boy thing. As much as you nice girls hate to admit it, you're attracted to the smoldering, dangerous type." Sam shook her head. "I don't get it. I mean, I know you need time to get over Ethan. But can't you do that by bonking the ever-living daylights out of Jake?"

     Robyn laughed. "I don't think that's how it works, Sam. And besides, I don't want Jake to be a distraction. If and when we get together, I want it to be for the right reasons. I don't want to rush into anything. I want us to get to know each other without throwing sex into the mix."

     "Hmm. You do you. I just don't think I could hold out for something real."

     Now it was Robyn's turn to give Sam a nudge. "What about Scott? He asked about you at Home Bar."

     Sam let out a huff. "Oh, please. I'm too much woman for him."

     Dropping her teasing demeanor, Robyn inquired "Why won't you try for an actual, real relationship, Sam? That's something I've never understood. Aren't you tired of all of those one-night stands?"

     Sam sighed. "I know you care, which is why I'm letting you get away with asking me that. Let's say that I give a guy a chance. Let's say we have an actual, real relationship. We fall in love and move in together. Then BAM! Something happens, and it ends in disaster. What then? Come on, Rob. We all know that there is no such thing as a happy ending. Relationships end. If not in a break-up, then in death. No, thank you."

     "Well, that's pessimistic."

     "I'm not a pessimist, Rob. I'm a realist."

     Robyn fell silent for a few seconds, feeling the weight of Sam's words. She couldn't deny that her friend was telling the truth. Still, she couldn't imagine being so terrified of experiencing loss that she'd close her heart off to love. What a lonely existence.

     "So, did you let Jake in on our plans for today?"

     "Of course."

     "And?"

     "He said that he'll think about it."

     Sam scoffed. "What do you mean, he'll think about it?"

     "Halloween isn't exactly his thing."

     "So what? That boy needs to get over himself and whatever hang-up he has about Halloween, and he needs to bring his sexy ass to the pumpkin patch ASAP. Text him. If you don't, you know I will. And I won't be Little Miss Nicey-Nice, either."

     "Sam, he's probably still asleep."

     "Do it, or I will," Sam warned.

     Robyn's expression was stubborn and unyielding. "I'm not going to pester him, Sam. If he comes, he comes. If not ..." She shrugged, trying to make it seem like she didn't care.

     "Don't act like you don't care, Rob. You and I both know that you want him to be there. And aren't you the one who says that you want to spend more time with Jake, without sex being involved? Well, here's your chance." She picked up Robyn's phone and held it out to her. "Call him. Text him. Whatever. But get him there."

     Robyn made a frustrated sound. "Oh, fine. If it'll get you off of my back," she said as she typed out a quick text message.

     Good morning, Jake. I hope this doesn't wake you. Just wondering if you'll be joining us at the pumpkin patch.

     She hesitated for a moment, adding:

I hope you'll be there. See you soon? - Robyn

     After sending the message, she turned to glare playfully at her friend. "There. Happy?"

     "Ecstatic," Sam replied with a grin.

     Several minutes later, Sam and Robyn were stepping inside the apartment shared by Chloe and Sam. Chloe was absent at the moment, having decided to spend the night at Will's apartment. While Sam took what she promised would be a quick shower, Robyn resigned herself to waiting in the living room.

     Heaving out a sigh, Robyn settled down on an orange papasan chair. Trying to suppress the urge to look at her phone every five seconds, she snatched up one of Chloe's fashion magazines and flipped through it. When she realized that she'd flipped through the same pages multiple times, she returned the magazine to its place on the coffee table.

     Her impatience growing, she began to aimlessly explore the living room. She closely inspected the bookshelves and gazed at the photographs on the walls, smiling at one picture in particular. It had been taken a few years ago, just before she'd met Ethan. They had visited Sam's favorite bar, and Chloe had insisted on taking a selfie to mark the occasion. Chloe and Robyn stood on either side of Sam, all three of them had their tongues sticking out as they flashed the "rock on," sign.

     Robyn laughed at the photograph, her mind drifting back to Jake. She thought about checking her phone, wondering if she'd put it on silent by accident. She knew she should continue to distract herself, but the anticipation of hearing from Jake hovered over her. Why was he taking so long to reply? Was it because he was busy? Was he still sleeping? Or maybe he simply wasn't interested in spending time with her.

     She let out another sigh as she flopped down onto the sofa, hugging a throw pillow against her chest. "Look at you. Behaving like a lovesick teenager," she muttered to herself as she stared at the clock on the wall.

     After what felt like an eternity, Robyn's phone buzzed in her pocket. Her heart skipping a beat, she smiled when she saw that she'd received a new message from Jake.

Meet you at the pumpkin patch, Firecracker. See you soon. - Jake

     Robyn didn't know what made her feel more giddy: the fact that Jake had given her a nickname that, given the circumstances, was rather intimate; or the fact that he was willing to set aside his disinterest in Halloween-themed activities to spend time with her.

     Sam stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a bath sheet as she towel-dried her hair. Amused, she watched as Robyn nibbled on her fingernail and then eagerly typed out a quick message. "You're grinning like an idiot. Let me guess. He's coming."

     "Yes, he is," Robyn confirmed, sending the message before she set the phone down on the coffee table. Pushing herself up out of the papasan chair, she stretched her arms. "I hope you left me some warm water."

     "You sure you don't want to take a cold shower? I mean, you look pretty excited. Maybe you should cool down," Sam retorted with a wink.

     Robyn rolled her eyes. "Ha, ha. Very funny." She began to make tracks for the bathroom, coming to a stop when a thought occurred to her. Not feeling that she could trust Sam to be alone with her phone, she snatched it up from the coffee table.

     "What? You don't trust me?" Sam blinked at her innocently.

     "I know how you operate, Sam. Jake told me about you threatening to castrate him." She made the 'snip-snip' gesture for emphasis.

     "What? I was only joking!"

     "Uh-huh. Sure, Sam! I believe you!"

     Robyn made her way to the bathroom, a spring in her step. She closed the door behind herself, shaking her head at the mess Sam had left behind. Apparently, Sam felt that it was too much of an effort to put her clothes in the hamper, even though it sat just a short distance away from the shower. Robyn wasn't exactly a clean freak, but this was just ridiculous. With a grimace, she gathered up the dirty laundry and deposited it into the hamper. Her toiletry bag had been left out on the counter, and she unzipped it to retrieve the bathing supplies she'd packed. Her eyes widened in shock when she found that a certain someone had snuck a few condom packets into her toiletry bag when she wasn't looking.

     "Very funny, Sam!!"

     "Hey! Doesn't hurt to be prepared! Just do me a favor. Don't go at it at the pumpkin patch. They frown at that kind of thing."

     Robyn let out a huff, turning her gaze upward in annoyance. She set the pile of condoms down on the counter, nibbling her bottom lip when she began to reconsider. While she wasn't ready to enter into a sexual relationship with Jake, it certainly wouldn't hurt to keep a few on hand. After gathering her bathing supplies, she tossed the condoms back into the bag.

     She turned on the shower, the sound of cascading water filling the room. She adjusted the temperature and then stepped under the warm jets, closing her eyes as the spray relaxed her muscles. Her mind began to drift again, and she found herself imagining that it was Jake's fingers - and not her own - that were gently massaging her scalp and caressing her skin. Images of Jake flashed in her mind - his warm smile, his sparkling blue eyes, those pouty lips - igniting a fire within her.

     "Hey, Rob! Are you planning to live in that shower?"

     Robyn snapped back to reality, hastily rinsing off the suds and shutting off the water. She pushed the shower door aside and reached for the towel she'd set out, patting her face dry before she tended to her hair. A few minutes later, she wrapped herself in the towel and emerged from the bathroom.

     Sam laughed loudly when she saw the blush that graced Robyn's cheeks. "Well, well, well! Someone was having fun in there."

     "Oh, shut up," Robyn snapped as she stomped her way to Chloe's bedroom.

     Jake stood at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, his gaze shifting from the sun-kissed fields to the people milling about. He wasn't a fan of Halloween. Robyn had picked up on that fact, simply by observing the subtle furrow in his brow when she mentioned the topic. Still, this was an opportunity to be with her. She'd spent enough time with him in his world - in the dim lights of the restaurant during Shift Drinks and in the noisy din of Home Bar. Surely, it was only fair that he spend time with her in her world, where it was bright and full of laughter that wasn't alcohol-induced.

     "Hey, sexy bartender! We're over here!"

     The autumn breeze rustled through his dark locks as he spotted the group sitting at a picnic table just a few feet away. He shook his head at Sam's boisterous greeting, hesitating for a moment before he made his approach.

     "Well, it's about time you showed up. We were going to send out a search party," Chloe joked.

     "Late as always," Will added with a smirk.

     "You know me. Punctuality has never been my strong suit," Jake retorted, sitting down on the bench next to Robyn. When she favored him with one of her sweet, genuine smiles, he began to feel more at ease. She had that way about her, he'd discovered. "Told you I'd make it," he said, his voice low enough for only Robyn to hear.

     "I'm glad you did."

     Will furrowed his brow in concern as he watched the quiet exchange between Jake and Robyn. Chloe had insisted that Jake genuinely seemed to care for Robyn, but Will had a difficult time suppressing the unease he felt as he witnessed Jake's flirtations with the beautiful brunette. He'd spent so much time watching Jake bounce from one woman to the next, with little to no regard for their feelings, and he couldn't help but worry that the bartender would do the same thing to Robyn. Still, people were capable of change. Sometimes for the better. Could it be that Jake was changing as well?

     The group made small talk, and Jake pretended to be genuinely interested in Will's rambling about the movie he'd watched during his most recent visit to the Film Forum. All the while, he couldn't help but steal glances at Robyn, admiring the way her hair caught the sunlight and loving the way her laughter flowed through the air like music. He angled his body slightly towards her, slipping his hand into the pocket of his cardigan and feeling the cool glass jar hidden inside. He carefully removed the container from its hiding place, making sure no one noticed. One of Robyn's hands was resting on her lap, and Jake realized that this was the perfect moment to make his move.

     Robyn blinked in surprise, her gaze meeting his as her hand clutched the jar. "Jake, what is this?"

     "Just a little something I found," he answered nonchalantly, smirking at her.

     Chloe announced that she was going to the farm store with Will and Sam, and Robyn gave her a distracted nod. Finally left alone with Jake, she looked down at the container. She tilted her head to the side, curious when she saw that the jar held a light golden amber substance with a subtle green cast. She turned the container over, taking note of the label that bore the image of honey bees wearing halos, hovering around a business name.

     "Tupelo honey?" Robyn was flustered, taken aback by the gift. "Jake, this type of honey is rare. Not to mention expensive. How did you --"

     "I have my ways," he replied with a smirk. What was he supposed to do? Admit that he'd been inspired to scour the internet for days, searching for this particular honey after listening to a song that made him instantly think of Robyn? He was a little too guarded for that.

     "This is incredible. Thank you. I --"

     Chloe stuck her head through the open doorway of the store, making Robyn jump as she loudly called out to her. "Hey, Rob! They have pumpkin smoothies. You guys want one?"

     Jake and Robyn shared an amused smile, and she lifted a brow at him. "Want one? They're delicious." She wriggled her brows at him. "My treat."

     He said nothing, giving her a nod instead. She carefully placed the jar in her purse, ensuring that it was wrapped in the scarf she kept inside, and approached the store. When she reached the building's entrance, she suddenly felt a tug on her heart. She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip, and gave in to the urge to jog  back to Jake. She knew that this was probably a bad idea; that it was too soon and that she was being too impulsive. But as her pulse quickened with a mixture of nervousness and excitement, she decided to ignore that little voice in her head that was nagging at her.

     Jake had turned around so that he was leaning against the tabletop, his elbows braced against it. "Forget something?"

     Robyn said nothing as she leaned down to plant a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips. Before Jake could return the favor and draw her into a deeper kiss, she pulled away with a blush on her cheeks and a smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

     "You're welcome."

     Later that afternoon, the group gathered at Sam and Chloe's apartment. Shaking her head in amusement, Robyn watched as Sam lugged her pumpkin over to the tarp-covered living room floor.

     "Every year, Sam. Every year, you choose the biggest pumpkin you can find. And every year, you have to lug the thing into the cab, into the elevator, and then into your flat. Why?"

     "Well, you know what they say," Sam began, setting the pumpkin down on the floor, "the bigger, the better."

     "You're going to hurt yourself one of these days," Robyn cautioned, closing the door. Jake chuckled next to her, and she looked up at him. "Every year, Jake, Sam goes for the biggest one she can find. Meanwhile, Chloe gravitates toward the one she thinks is the cutest."

     "And what's your method?" he inquired as they joined the group on the floor.

     "Me?" She shrugged, sitting down next to him. "I know I may sound insane for admitting this, but I choose the one that calls out to me."

     "Are you hearing voices again, Rob?" Sam teased, reaching for one of the knives that had been set out on the tarp. She held it up and smirked. "Are you sure you should handle a knife?"

     Robyn rolled her eyes. "What's your method, Jake?"

     Jake stuck the knife through the top of the pumpkin, cutting a circle through it. "I don't have one." Certain that the others weren't really paying attention, he quietly admitted "I've never carved a pumpkin before."

     Robyn set the top of her pumpkin aside, turning to blink at him in surprise. "Never?"

     He shook his head. "No. My mother did the carving. Simone, too. I was too young to use a knife."

     "What about when you were older?" Robyn wondered as they worked on pulling the seeds out of their respective pumpkins.

     Jake shrugged. "By then, I wasn't into Halloween."

     Robyn was about to ask him why he had an aversion to one of her favorite holidays, but she was interrupted when Will exclaimed "I can't believe you're using stencils! Part of the fun is drawing your own design. You know, free-styling it."

     "Hey! If you want to free-style it, be my guest. But some of us - myself included - suck at drawing!" Sam argued, having snatched up a stencil that bore the image of a tarantula resting on its web.

     "But --"

     "There's no point in arguing with her, babe," Chloe interrupted, tossing the guts of her pumpkin into the bowl. "And besides, the witch stencil has my name on it," she added, sticking her tongue out at him as she grabbed the stencil in question.

     "Traitor." Will looked over at Jake and Robyn. "Help me out, guys."

     "I'm stayin' out of it," Jake said with a smirk.

     "I think you've been outvoted, Will," Robyn added. "Might as well accept defeat."

     "You're all traitors," Will teased, gesturing at them. "Each and every one of you."

     Sam lined up her stencil and began to trace the design onto her pumpkin. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just shut up and carve."

     Jake and Robyn shared an amused look before they returned to their work. "So, what about you? Do you free-style it?"

     "Sometimes. Only if I feel inspired." Robyn took the cap off of a marker and began to sketch her design, acutely aware of the fact that Jake was watching her. A light blush forming on her cheeks, she tried to concentrate on her work. "Aren't you supposed to focus on your own pumpkin, Jake?"

     The bartender said nothing, examining the stencils that remained. He reached for the stencil that bore the image of an open mouth bearing vampire fangs.

     "Vampire fangs? Nice one," Sam commented.

     "You know, you'd make a great vampire." Chloe received strange looks from Robyn, Will and Jake. "For Halloween."

     Sam stopped her work for a moment, looking the bartender up and down. Pursing her lips in thought, she agreed. "Yeah. I can see that. With that dark hair and those smoldering good looks, you'd make a great Jerry Dandridge."

     "Which version?" Chloe asked. "Chris Sarandon or Colin Farrell?"

     "Farrell, definitely."

     Jake cringed inwardly as he listened to the two women's discussion. As a child, he adored Halloween. He looked forward to dressing up as his favorite superhero, literary character, or movie monster. But Halloween had lost its allure when he was still a child, and he'd never been able to recapture his enthusiasm for the holiday. "Thanks for the suggestions, but I'm not into dressing up."

     "Well, you're no fun," Sam muttered. "Guess you'll miss out on Robyn's big costume reveal."

     "Yeah. She's holding out on us this year. All she'll tell us is that is different than anything she's worn before," Chloe complained.

     "Good things come to those who wait." Giving Jake a smile, Robyn murmured "If you change your mind, we're going to Haven. I'm not much for nightclubs, but they throw an amazing Halloween celebration. You're welcome to join us, even if you don't dress up."

     Jake fell silent for a few moments. "I'll think about it."

     "What about scary movies, Jake? Are you into those?" Chloe questioned.

     "They're all right, I guess. Depends on the movie," Jake responded distractedly, focusing on his carving.

     Taking advantage of Jake's focus on his pumpkin, Chloe pointed at him and mouthed "Invite him," to Robyn.

     Like I wasn't going to do that already? Robyn thought. "We're planning on watching a few films later on. It's our little tradition."

     "Come on, Rob! You left out the best part!" Sam stated. "We don't just watch scary movies, Jake. We pig out on junk food and get drunk. I made Gummy Worm Shooters, Chloe made her special popcorn, and Robyn made ... whatever the hell she made."

     "Reese's Pieces Krispy Treats," Robyn interjected.

     "And if anything, you'll get a kick out of Robyn freaking out at every jump scare." Chloe gave Robyn a wink when the brunette scowled at her.

     "It's hilarious," Sam stated. "Last year, she fell over in her chair. Her legs went straight up in the air. Popcorn was dumped everywhere."

     "I still have nightmares about that bloody doll, by the way!" Robyn grumbled.

     Will looked up in curiosity. "Which doll? Chucky?"

     Robyn shook her head. "No. The doll from Trilogy of Terror."

     "Oh! The Zuni hunter doll?"

     Robyn shuddered, and Sam continued. "We even have a drinking game. One shot for every time Robyn jumps. Two if she falls over."

     Robyn's blush deepened as the others laughed at her. Even Jake seemed to chuckle at her expense. "Well, I've watched at least one of the movies we've picked out. So I doubt the so-called jump scares in that one will get to me."

     "Yeah. But you haven't watched The Conjuring," Chloe pointed out.

     "Ooh! Jump scares galore!" Will interjected with a wide grin.

     "Now who's the traitor? Look at you. Laughing at my expense," Robyn retorted, giving him a pointed look before she turned to Jake. "So, are you going to join us?" She bat her eyes at him in a dramatic fashion. "You absolutely must witness my humiliation."

     Jake stared at her, feeling swayed by the hopeful look in her captivating gaze. "Well, how can I say no to that?"

     Settled on the sofa next to Jake, Robyn stared at the screen in shock as the credits rolled. "Well, that was ... bracing," she muttered, trying her best to shake off the lingering unease. Going by what her friends had told her, she figured that The Conjuring would be full of tension and jump scares. But Robyn was, according to her friends, a "great, big scaredy cat," and she just knew she'd have nightmares. If not tonight, then sometime in the near future.

     Sitting on the floor with Will's arms around her, Chloe gave Robyn a smile. "Come on, Rob! You know you loved it."

     "At least Jake was holding the popcorn bowl. But I was looking forward to seeing her fall over again," Sam commented as she put the DVD back in its case.

     "Ha, ha. Very funny." Robyn moved the throw blanket off of her lap and stood up, stretching the kinks out of her back. "Thanks for the nightmares, Sam."

     "You're welcome!" Sam chirped happily. "So, who's up for another movie? How about a classic this time?" She held up two DVDs: A Nightmare on Elm Street and the original Halloween.

     Will glanced at his phone screen, frowning. "It's pretty late, and Jake and I have to work tomorrow." Giving his co-worker a sarcastic grin, he added "And we'll both show up on time. Right?"

     "Whatever you say, Will."

     "Yeah. I'm beat, too," Chloe added as she stood up. Though, going by the way she was staring at Will, sleep wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Once he was standing, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom. "Night, guys!" she called as she waved at them.

     When the door closed behind the happy couple, Sam grumbled to herself. "Guess I'll have to break out the noise-canceling headphones again. So, what about you two? You in the mood for a little Freddy or Michael?"

     "Sorry, Sam. But I'm exhausted. I think I'll turn in. Next time?" Robyn answered as she began the clean-up process.

     "Ugh. Fine." Her eyes full of mischief, she turned her gaze to Jake. "Are you spending the night, Jake? The pull-out is surprisingly comfy. And we all know Robyn needs someone to protect her from the boogeyman."

     Robyn shot a deadly glare in her friend's direction. "Sam, go to bed."

     Sam mock-saluted Robyn before she strolled toward her bedroom. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kids," she said before she disappeared into her bedroom.

     The door closed behind Sam, leaving Jake and Robyn in awkward silence. Deciding to make himself useful, if only to break up the tension, he gathered up the items that Robyn wasn't able to carry.

     Robyn led the way to the kitchen. "So, are you spending the night?"

     Jake dumped the plates, napkins and cups into the trash bin. "Might as well. Besides, Sam did say the pull-out is comfy."

     Her back was turned to him as she put the bowls in the sink. This meant that he missed out on her rather comical look of nervousness. When she'd invited Jake to take part in this day of fun, she'd had no idea that he'd end up spending the night. And she certainly hadn't planned on sharing a bed with him. "Yes. It is very comfortable. I've slept on it many times." She ensured that the Krispy Treats were covered before she gave Jake a nod, trying to hide her nervousness. "We'd better set it up, then."

     Jake followed Robyn into the living room, furrowing his brow in confusion as she began to remove the cushions. "What are you doing?"

     "Setting up the sofa bed."

     "But why? I mean, I'm just one person. I can sleep on the sofa as is." When she gave him a pointed look, realization dawned on him. "Oh. You're not crashing in Sam's room?"

     She laughed softly. "If I did that, I would never be able to sleep." She looked over her shoulder in the direction of Sam's room and then returned her gaze to Jake. Whispering conspiratorially, she informed him "She won't admit it, and I will throttle you if you say anything to her. She snores. It's horrible, Jake. Not only that, but she never stays still. The one and only time we shared a bed, she ended up draped over me. So no, I will not sleep in Sam's room."

     Jake watched as she crossed over to the linen closet. "So we're sharing a bed, then?" He, unlike Robyn, felt no sense of unease at the concept. In fact, he looked forward to it. He enjoyed having her so close to him, even without the promise of sex. Though she probably didn't realize it, she had the ability to make him feel at ease. She had a relaxing presence about her, and he felt drawn by it.

     Holding a stack of sheets and pillowcases, Robyn turned to face Jake. She gave him another nod. "I wouldn't recommend sleeping on the floor. I tried that once." She set the stack down on a papasan chair, adding "It's not as though we haven't shared a bed before. And we're both adults. I think we can control ourselves," she reasoned, not noticing the little smirk on his face. "It's decided, then."

     Robyn retrieved the pillows and then, with Jake's assistance, set up the sofa bed. That little nervous flutter came back when he unbuckled his belt and began to unfasten his jeans. She turned away, a little too late, when he glanced in her direction as he began to slide out of his pants.

     "Why so shy, Rob? You've seen me in my birthday suit. Remember? I didn't think the sight of me in my boxers would rattle you."

     Robyn pretended to cough a bit. "I'm going to get ready. When I come back, I expect you to not be in your birthday suit." Trying to ignore Jake's laughter, she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Leaning against the door for a few seconds, she let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You can do this, Rob. You've slept with him before, and he didn't jump you. It'll be fine."

     She emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in black pajamas with pink flowers scattered about. Jake was already lounging in bed, his lower half covered by the sheet and blanket.

     "See? No birthday suit, as promised," he announced with a grin.

     She gave him a little smile before she moved over to the kitchen island, where the Jack o Lanterns had been lined up. Having ensured that every candle was put out, she returned to the living room. After a moment's hesitation, she moved the bedding aside and made herself comfortable. Lying in the darkness of the living room, the only sounds being Jake's breathing and the occasional car honking outside, Robyn stared up at the ceiling. Thinking that she'd be more comfortable in a different position, she moved onto her side. Pulling the covers up to her shoulders and snuggling into the pillow, she closed her eyes and waited for the sweet relief that sleep would grant her.

     No such luck.

     Robyn's eyes snapped open when she heard giggling, followed by the sound of a few deep moans, coming from Chloe's bedroom. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, wishing she'd remembered to pack her ear plugs. She groaned softly, moving the pillow so it was over her head.

     "Aren't you afraid you'll suffocate?"

     Underneath the pillow, she let out an annoyed huff. "It would be worth it if I didn't have to hear them going at it all night." Realizing that the pillow wasn't helping, she moved it back to its correct position and then rolled onto her back. "At this rate, I won't be able to go to sleep." Thinking for a moment, she reached for the lamp sitting on the side table and switched it on.

     Jake watched with curiosity as Robyn pushed the blankets aside and made a move to get out of bed. "Where are you going?"

     She stopped, looking at him over her shoulder. "Out to the balcony. I don't want to keep you up with my tossing and turning. I can't sleep, and it's a beautiful night. Might as well enjoy it. Just leave the lamp on until I make it over to the door. I don't want to trip over anything."

     "Don't be ridiculous. It's cold, and it's going to rain. You'll freeze. Look, the noise will stop eventually."

     She considered Jake's words as she looked out the window and eyed the balcony. "Fine. You win," she announced, laying down and pulling the covers over herself once more. A happy squeal came from Chloe's room, and Robyn rolled her eyes. "Well, this isn't awkward at all." They both laughed at the situation they were in, and she turned onto her side to look at him. "I'm sorry I'm keeping you awake."

     "It's not you. I'm a night owl. Remember?" he responded, mirroring Robyn's position.

     "I think I know how we can pass the time." Jake bounced his eyebrows suggestively, and Robyn playfully swatted his arm. "Not that. I was thinking about a little game."

     He furrowed his brow at her, skeptical. "What kind of game?"

     "Ever heard of Confessions?" Jake shook his head. "It's this board game that I played with Sam and Chloe a while back. You draw a card, and then you have to talk about whatever the card says. Say I drew a card that asks me to describe my most embarrassing moment. I would have to do just that."

     He thought about Robyn's suggestion, weighing the pros and cons. Pro: he would have the chance to get to know her better. Con: she may ask something deeply personal; something that touched a nerve. "What if I don't want to answer the question?"

     "Then you don't have to. No pressure, Jake."

     He was quiet for a few seconds, hesitating. "All right. But I get to ask the first question. What is your most embarrassing moment?"

     Robyn laughed. "Ooh! Going for the jugular. I like it. All right. I'll give you this one. When I was sixteen, my family went on holiday with my boyfriend and his family. There was a lake, and ... one night, Andrew and I decided to take advantage of it."

     "Uh-oh. I think I know where this is going."

     "We thought our families were in bed. But we weren't counting on his parents' decision to take a romantic stroll past the lake. There we were, engaged in a very steamy kiss that was well on its way to becoming more  ... in our birthday suits." They shared a laugh and, once she was able to talk again, she added "It was beyond embarrassing. And, of course, my family found out about it. Needless to say, my parents grounded me for a month. It was horrible." Another moment of laughter, and whatever awkwardness they felt began to melt away. "All right. Your turn. Get ready, because it's deeply personal."

     "Give it your best shot."

     "Do you have any talents that I don't know about?"

     Jake gave her one of those smirks that she found so endearing. "That depends. Are we talking about in bed, or ..."

     "Jake, if you don't want to answer --"

     "All right, all right. I'll answer. Just don't laugh. Okay?"

     Robyn nodded, crossing her heart. "I promise."

     "You know that movie Cocktail? The one where Tom Cruise plays a flair bartender?"

     "There's actually a name for that?"

     He nodded in confirmation. "There is. Anyway, just so happens that I can do that. I don't do it often. Only when my side-job calls for it. But I've got some moves."

     "Why would you be ashamed of that? I'll have you know that I find that incredibly sexy. I mean, I'm no fan of Tom Cruise. But when I watch that film ..."

     "You're kidding."

     "I'm not joking. Let's call it a guilty pleasure. Now, I believe you have a question to ask me."

     "All right. Same question: do you have any talents that I don't know about?" Robyn thought about this for a moment. When Jake picked up on her hesitation, he joked "Let me guess. You're a contortionist. You can turn yourself into a pretzel. Which, by the way, is a talent that comes in handy while in bed."

     "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jake, but I'm not a contortionist. And I don't see how my hidden talent would be useful in bed." She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She didn't know why she was so reluctant to disclose this information. It was nothing to be ashamed of. "All right. Here goes. I can play the violin."

     Jake raised his brows, and Robyn couldn't tell if he was surprised or impressed ... or maybe both.

     "Quite well, according to my parents. They're both musicians. My father used to be a concert pianist, and my stepmother was a violinist. That's how they met. The violinist who usually worked with my father took ill, and my stepmother was selected to replace him. Long story short, my parents encouraged all three of us children - Linnet, Callum, and myself - to develop a love for music. We each selected an instrument that we'd like to learn."

     "And you chose the violin."

     "I remember when I was little ... I must have been ten-years-old ... I would sit in the music room for what seemed like hours, listening to my stepmother as she practiced. I would watch her with such ... fascination. She just seemed so happy; so full of peace and joy. I wanted to be just like her. And when I asked her to teach me, her face just lit up."

     "Does she still play?"

     There it was: the can of worms that was bound to be open. Robyn's expression became downcast, and Jake observed her with a mixture of concern and confusion.

     "Unfortunately, no. She was forced to retire. Her hands stopped working the way they were supposed to. She tried to put on a brave face, but I could tell that it broke her heart. And to be honest, I think she resents me. Before she developed this condition, she was patient with me. If I made a mistake, she'd do her best to encourage me and make me feel like I could - I don't know - figure it out. But when she had to give up the violin, she became impatient. Stern. The light in her eyes just ... disappeared. It made it difficult for me to enjoy playing."

     Jake frowned. "Did you stop playing?"

     "No. I just became more selective about where I played. If I played in front of her, I felt guilty; like I was rubbing it in her face. I still play. Just not often, and not in front of an audience. The last person I played for was Andrew, my ex-boyfriend. Now when I play, I do it for myself." She became quiet for a few seconds, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. "I even have a recording that my father made of the two of us playing Bach's Minuet in G Major. I listen to it sometimes, when I'm feeling homesick."

     "Well, if you ever feel like having an audience of one ... I'm available." Robyn looked at him in surprise. "What?"

     "Nothing. It's just ... I didn't think you were into that kind of music. I know you enjoy listening to jazz. But I just didn't know --"

     He laughed softly. "You never noticed my music collection?"

     "Yes. Of course. But I didn't snoop through it."

     "If you had, you would have found Bach and Mozart in-between Nirvana and Duke Ellington. I enjoy all kinds of music. Well, except for rap, heavy metal, and that New Age shit."

     Robyn giggled, her eyes lighting up. "Well, I'm sorry I misjudged you. And if you're serious about listening to me play ... maybe. One day. Now, I believe it's my turn to ask you a question. That ring that you always wear. What does it mean to you?" She narrowed her eyes at him and teased "You're not married. Are you?"

     "No. Not married. The ring was given to me by when I graduated from high school. I never take it off."

     "The person who gave it to you must have been special. A girlfriend, perhaps?" she asked cheekily.

     Should he tell her that the 'someone special,' was Simone? No. Some doors were best left unopened. "No. Just a friend. Now, what about you? Have you ever been married?"

     "No. The closest I got was discussing the possibility of marriage. Andrew and I talked about it several times. And, of course, there's Ethan. But I've come to realize that he was never serious about wanting to marry me. He just dangled the idea in front of me, hoping I'd stick around. But no, I've never been married."

     They became quiet again, their gazes locked. There it was again: that sexual tension and magnetic attraction that, more often than not, seemed to permeate the air all around them. Robyn's eyelids began to feel heavy, and she let out a tiny yawn.

     "Guess we'd better get some sleep," Jake said, all the while studying her face.

     Their faces were just inches apart, and it seemed as though time slowed down. Without hesitation, as though operating on instinct, he reached out and pushed aside a few strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. That all-too-familiar flutter formed in Robyn's stomach, and the rational part of her mind encouraged her to pull away. That part of her reminded her that she'd been hurt before; that being with Jake was risky and that she couldn't afford to be hurt again. But then, her irrational side kicked in and began to taunt her with what could be if maybe - just maybe - she let down her guard and stopped playing it safe.

     His hand came to rest on her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. Choosing to ignore her rational side, if only for a few moments, she didn't pull away when Jake's face began to move closer. Their lips were just about to meet when the sound of footsteps filled the room, and they quickly moved away from each other as Sam stumbled her way to the bathroom. The door closed behind her, and Jake and Robyn let out disappointed sighs.

     "Well, that was a mood-killer," he joked.

     Robyn nodded, her eyes drifting down to his pouty lips. The spell broken, she said "I suppose we should go to sleep. You have to work tomorrow."

     He wanted to argue with her; to insist that he could manage. But the spell had definitely been broken, and he doubted that the mood could be recaptured. Feeling the weight of disappointment fall upon him, he watched as she reached over and switched off the lamp.

     Robyn was the first to succumb to the need for sleep, her breathing eventually becoming steady and rhythmic. Jake knew he should follow suit; that he shouldn't watch her so intently. But he couldn't help it. His eyes traced the contours of her delicate features, taking note of how peaceful she looked. Her dark eyelashes cast subtle shadows on her cheeks, the free strands of hair framing her face nicely. The vanilla scent of her perfume wafted toward him, tickling his senses. As he studied her, a mixture of excitement and trepidation settled within his chest. He felt a magnetic pull toward her; a longing to be even closer. What were these feelings that were surging up within him? They were new to him, and they both thrilled and terrified him.

     Sam emerged from the bathroom, snapping Jake out of the daze he was in. She slipped into her bedroom and closed the door, seemingly unaware of what had taken place in the living room. Switching off his lamp and rolling onto his back, Jake closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths. Sleep eluded him as he grappled with his emotions, and the silence in the room was deafening. After stealing one more glance at Robyn, he finally closed his eyes and surrendered himself to what he knew would be a fitful slumber.

@anastacia-lynn

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[honeycombhq-22]

Episode 2: Episodes

[Eng Dub] | [Jap Dub]

*insert intro music*

Before Episode 69

Location: The Sharp Residence

Jude grabbed his pillow, shoved his head into it and—

*inhales* "AHhHhhHHhhhh!!!!"

"Absolutely irritating!— how AG-GRI-VA-TING!!!"

On the other side of his bedroom, awkwardly sat Axel and Mark on one of Jude's long, luxurious black leather bedroom couches waiting for him to finish.

Mark and Jude had come back from confronting Mr Hillman regarding Caleb's recruitment, and Jude wasn't pleased with his response. At all. So when Jude asked the Raimon captain to come over, Mark was very hesitant.

Axel was there, because Mark needed reinforcements.

"Coach decided to invite him BECAUSE HE'S A TALENTED YOUNG MAN?" He lifted his head to breathe, then shoved it back into the pillow. "TALENT WHERE?! HE USED A DUMB, STUPID, STEROID CRYSTAL!"

Now, reader, you might wonder, "Since when did Jude have so much anger?"

It all started after being separated from his sister, Celia, back in the orphanage. Days passed, and after realising that he may never see her again, he developed a bit of a temper.

He'd thrash, kick, scream— even after his nonbiological father found his sister's adoptive parents' address. It wasn't until the crimson eyed toddler met the infamous Ray Dark who placed him in Junior Anger Management.

Many years later, the boy passed his JAM classes and became the notorious cool, calm and collected genius playmaker.

Though he isn't as angry as he used to be, he does have moments that do trigger him. When times like that happen, he'd suppress it all in until he finally was alone. Then he'd scream, yell, and shout it all out into his 'anger pillow'.

This could last a couple of seconds... or like the last episode, 30 minutes.

Mark peered over the armchair to Jude's piled collection of football magazines, his eyes glistening with curiosity.

"THAT, THAT IRKSOME!—"

Axel shook his head.

That'll make him MORE mad

"LITTLE—"

With a sigh, Mark retracted his hand, slumping into the couch with a soft, bored groan.

"GODDAMN VEXATIOUS DECIEVER!!!"

Jude's short breathes filled the silent room and the two shared a look.

You talk

No, YOU talk

I don't want to talk!

I'm not talking after last time.

Fine.

The defeated sighed.

"...You okay..?" Mark asked with a cautious smile.

He sighed, "...yeah."

"..."

Jude cleared his throat. "Right. The actual reason I brought you here."

-

"Hmm... I don't know about this one."

Standing in front of his full body mirror, Jude wore the selection team's white uniform kit. He twisted his torso, making his blue cape glide gracefully.

"There's a lot of blue in my opinion." Axel spoke.

Jude nodded, "You're right."

While waiting for Jude to finish fitting another cape, the platinum blonde turned and asked, "How did your team's practice go?"

"Great actually! Kevin, Shawn, Jack— just everyone's gotten so much stronger over the months!" Mark beamed. "Oh! We even have a victory ritual. If someone scores a goal, we tackle them!"

The flame striker let out a quiet laugh of disbelief. "And the new candidates, how were they?"

Before the chocolate haired boy could respond, Jude walked out with a yellow cape flowing behind him. As soon as it caught their sight, the two immediately shook their heads.

"Yeah I know... I thought maybe a complimentary colour with the shorts?" He eyed his reflection before pivoting back into the walk-in closet.

"Hmm..." Mark pondered. He rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb, his eyes squinting. "Archer, well..." his head leaned to the side. "I don't think he's... comfortable yet. So Xavier suggested he stay in the back."

"'Not comfortable'? I wasn't there to watch your whole practice, but just by a glance during warmups, you can tell he's just a beginner." Jude commented, walking out with a red cape. "Are you sure you want him to be a part of your last line of defence?"

"Oh come on Jude, Jack and Hurley will be there too." Mark waved dismissively. His smile grew bigger, "And Alex isn't bad at all!"

"...Okay." Jude said sceptically.

Having known Jude long enough, he decided to change the subject quickly. "Hey, I like this one!" He pointed.

Axel nodded, "Me too."

Jude eyed his reflection, letting out a small breath. "Then it's settled." He placed his hands on his hips, a small smile of pride on him, "The red cape it is."

—

"Are you sure you'll be alright Axel? It's getting pretty late." Mark asked staring at the sky.

Axel kindly waved dismissively, "I'll be fine. My neighbourhood isn't too far."

The brown headed boy answered his friend's reassurance with a smile. "Okay." He turned to face Axel again after opening the door to his home, "Message me when you get home!"

Axel waved and began his stroll home.

Should we maybe have a team bonding type of ritual?

Because the state of our team dynamic right now is... well...

Flashback ***

Team B watched as Team A stepped outside chatting with one another happily. Before stepping out, Kevin whispered a much needed 'goodluck' to Nathan, Jude and Axel before leaving the team in their awkward silence.

Jordan huffed, "Looks like the grass is greener on that side. D'you have a strategy to beat them, Jude?"

"With Mark, Jack, Shawn...Hurley... and Xavier, their team is a lot more rounded than ours." The aquamarine boy mumbled his thoughts not realising someone behind him listening.

"So our team's lacking." Shadow deadpanned making Nathan's eyes grow wide.

"Come on, that's not what he meant, right Nathan?" Thor intervened wrapping his arm around said boy's neck.

"Nathan is right though. Their team is very rounded, defensively and offensively. It looks like we're more offensively strong. So let's try and bring out that strength." Isaac reasoned.

His glasses beamed before he pointed at himself confidently, "Which is why I can be up front alongside you, Axel. My brother may have thought he could be an Ace, but I show true potential, isn't that right, Axel?" The boy boldly awaited Axel's response only to, thankfully, be interrupted by Jude.

Said Genius on the Pitch stepped to the new player, making the young boy stiffen, "Austin, right?"

"Y-yes sir— I mean— yes!"

"You said you can play any position. Can you be up front for the match?"

"Striker?! A-along with—" He glanced to the Flame Striker and squeaked. "I—I don't think I should be at the front line along with THEE Axel Blaze. Haha... I don't want to hold him back, you know!"

The playmaker sighed, "Fine. Shadow?"

"I don't think I'm strong enough yet."

"I think you should. You and Axel are similar but have totally different plays." Thor encouraged slapping Shadow in the back. The latter coughed, surprised at how hard his slap was.

"Hey, I don't mean to stir the pot, but isn't your move a bit similar to Axel's fire tornado?" Jordan enquired, blinking innocently.

"It's a carbon copy if you ask me. It's just gloomier and darker." Scotty snickered, earning a slap at the back of the head from Thor.

"Tch," they heard from the corner of the hall, to see Caleb resting his back against a wall. "You're all acting like a bunch of pussies." He commented making his way to the group.

Darren blinked in confusion, about to ask what was a puss— when Nathan placed his hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Put me up next to the famous Flame Striker." Caleb declared, staring Axel dead in the eye.

"No." The platinum blonde replied with a glare.

"Why not, scared I'll be just as good as you next?"

"What do you mean by 'next'?"

"Ncaw Judie," Caleb twisted his torso, smirking at Jude. "You didn't tell them that Dark declared me just as smart as you."

"He never said that, Caleb." Jude stated. Little people noticing his jaw clenching.

"You can't," Axel began turning Caleb's attention, "because you're a Midfielder."

He looked the platinum blonde up and down before letting out a mocking laugh, "If that'll make you sleep good at night, Blaze."

"He can't just talk to Axel like that!" Austin gritted quietly.

"Caleb, where are you going?" Nathan asked.

"Leaving," he deadpanned and lifted his arm, shimmering his fingers as a wave, "Toodles."

"Hey!" Jordan stepped forward, "Don't you know the saying 'Many hands make light work'? We need all hands on deck!"

The boy halted. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about winning or losing as a team. All you have to do is just show off to the coach." His head turned over his shoulder, showing a smirk. "And just so you dim-witted co-ops know, I'm playing for myself only."

Darren looked around hopelessly, "Guys... what should we do?"."

Shadow slung his kitbag onto his shoulder, heading to the door, "I'm going."

Nathan sighed after Shadow's figure disappeared, "I think you should apologise to Shadow."

"What?! Me!?" Scotty pointed at himself. "I was giving the guy constructive criticism!" He defended folding his arms.

"It wasn't nice what you said, Scotty." Darren chimed in.

"Of course you'd say so." Scotty snickered.

"What are you talking about?" Darren asked softly.

"UGH, JUST GO AND APOLOGISE SCOTTY!" Thor yelled, fed up with the boy's nonsense.

***End of flashback

He heaved a sigh.

Very unorganised.

*pat*

Hm?

The boy's face scrunched softly as he watched the light water droplets slowly fall heavier with each passing second.

Not this again.

He jogged to the nearest shelter, the most popular spot for students nearby, Spark's Stores, and stood under the eave of the convenient store at the entrance.

He looked around and sighed.

This is my only shelter... from here on, I'll have to sprint.

*tap*

Axel's heart skipped a beat and out of instinct, he spun to the source, his leg about to lift when he stopped himself.

"Oh," He relaxed, "You scared me."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh, I'm sorry."

He waved her off reassuringly.

Then they stood stood in silence.

"..."

"..."

"...."

This is awkward... He glanced to his right, then quickly stared at the streets beginning to drown with puddles. I only met her yesterday... there's nothing I can really say.

I don't normally start conversations with our managers either... they normally initiate conversations with me...

Think!

What would Sue and Tori want to talk about?

'My Darling—'

'I'll be going to the store to buy my Darling—'

'Oh how I miss my Darlin—'

Nevermind Sue.

He sweatdropped quietly.

'I'm gonna practice more to perfect The Tower!'

Yeah! I can ask about her prac—

"You looked... deep in thought earlier." She broke the silence looking at the street as well.

He exhaled quietly, making her eyes glance up at him, "I was trying to find a way to avoid the rain."

"You don't have an umbrella or raincoat?"

He shook his head.

The girl unzipped her kitbag and pulled out a transparent umbrella motioning it to him.

Once he realised her offer he softly pushed the umbrella towards her. "Oh no," he softly spoke, "You don't have to."

"I don't mind. My house is just down the road." She pointed. "You can return it on the day of the selection match... if that's okay with you?"

"Thanks," he bowed his head and stepped out into the pouring rain that reflected off of her umbrella.

Feeling guilty again, Axel decided to turn back around to thank Alex again, only to see she had already begun her walk home with her tracksuit jacket acting as her umbrella.

Axel must've stared for too long because the girl stopped and turned to him making his breath hitch with embarrassment.

Right when he was about to scold himself for looking like a weirdo, the white-haired girl waved to him goodbye with a small smile before continuing down the road.

He cleared his throat.

Right, I need to get home.

The boy stood in front of his family gate with a proud expression, knowing little about the speeding truck approaching.

He sighed.

Home sweet ho—

-

"I'm home," she called into the house but was met with silence.

She placed her kitbag down, hung her jacket on a hanger, and was about to walk when she remembered.

Right. Shoes

After slipping into a pair of light blue slippers, she made her way into the house.

She sighed, then smiled. "Tante! I did well in practice today. And I caught a lot of loose balls and got complimented. The managers are really sweet. They helped me learn a few of the players' names!"

Silence.

"I'll be going to bed now. Goodnight!"

And as soon as she stepped into the hallway, her smile dropped, and her steps came to a halt. She sighed again then turned back, grabbed her kitbag, and made her way to her bedroom.

She flipped the light on then closed the blinds of her window and flopped onto her bed face first.

Her face began to burn from embarrassment.

'You don't have an umbrella or raincoat?'

Why did I say that?

Of course he doesn't, why else would he, AXEL BLAZE, be trying to avoid the rain!

She groaned into the pillow as her head began tp throb from the racing thoughts.

I should've just hid behind that aisle.

🌄[2 Mar 2024]🌄

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | [𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝙴𝙿𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙳𝙴]

Outro:

#inazuma japan #inazuma 11 #ina11 #inazuma eleven reimagined #endou mamoru #fanfic #inazuma eleven #jude sharp #mark evans #kidou yuuto #gouenji shuuya #axel blaze #fudou akio #caleb stonewall #oc #Spotify

[legolasghosty]

hi dino bones bestie, hope you’re having a great week!! can i request fluffy prompt 6. “Should I bring you some lunch today?” for willex? also good luck with the school papers!

OKAY HELLO HI I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!! School was nuts and I had no time and no spoons, but it's spring break now so I have a dash of free time! Here you go, my dino bones bestie! Hope you like it!!!!

Willie closes his office door behind Danny, then lets his head fall forward against the cool surface. They don't regret becoming a therapist, not by a long shot, but sometimes it's just... exhausting. It's exhausting to care so much.

He wishes he could reach inside Danny's head and rewire the little part that makes him do everything in 4s, even just for a day to give the kid a break from his own mind. Or snap his fingers and get the teachers to stop deadnaming Amy. Or just fix any one of so many issues their patients had to deal with every day. But they can't. And some days, it just kills them.

He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out their phone. Maybe he can catch Alex between recording sessions. Talking with their husband has always been a great way to get Willie out of his head. Even if it's just over text.

Willie - How goes the studio things?

Alex responds in less than a minute, so one of his bandmates must be in the booth at the moment.

Alexander Ortega <3 - Pretty good! Luke and Reggie have only resorted to throwing things at each other once! How are things at the office?

Willie chuckles, the nervous energy in his fingers fading a bit at Alex's lighthearted words.

Willie - Things are going okay here. I'm just tired.

Alexander Ortega <3 - Good tired or bad tired?

Willie - ...sad tired? I just wish there was more I could do to help everybody.

Alexander Ortega <3 - That makes sense. You care about them. Do you want to talk about it?

Willie considers it for a moment. They do want to talk about it. Alex has some kind of listening magic that lets him listen to Willie ramble on for half an hour and somehow get what they were trying to say. (Alex always rolls his eyes when Willie calls it magic, claiming it's just cause they've known each other for so long, but Willie knows the truth.) And that sounds really good right about now.

But Willie has another appointment in half an hour. He can't really fall apart right now, because there won't be the time to pick up the pieces. It will have to wait until after their next 2 appointments. Their afternoon is open, just some paperwork to deal with. And he'll have dinner at home with Alex. They just have to wait a bit.

Willie - I got another appointment soon. But later talking would be great.

Alexander Ortega <3 - Your last one gets out at 2, right? Should I bring you some lunch after that? Or we can go out if you want. With the way Julie and Luke are looking at each other, I'm pretty sure we're going to call it good on the recording soon anyways. Before everyone else in here starts having to play 3rd wheel.

Willie laughs. They can almost picture the heart eyes going between the couple. Julie and Luke always get like that when they're singing together. He has a feeling Alex knew the story would make him laugh.

Willie - YES that would be amazing!!! I love you so much!!! Just pick something up on the way, I don't really care what as long as it has calories.

Alexander Ortega <3 - Yes Ma'am! I love you too, see you at 2 <333

Willie leans back in his chair. They're still exhausted, but it's a bit better now. Alex always manages to do that. Even when the both of them are having a terrible day, just being with Alex makes Willie feel more at ease. It really is like magic. In their personal opinion.

#and then Alex shows up with stupid American Chinese food and like 10 fortune cookies #and they eat on the floor in Willie's office with the window cracked open to let the smell out #and there is lots of talking about serious and not serious stuff #and they definitely feed each other fortune cookie pieces #and Willie feels better #it's not perfect of course #but talking through it with Alex helps a lot #they're in love your honor #also side note Alex definitely took Willie's last name to annoy his parents #like also because he loves the idea of it being immediately obvious that he's Willie's person #but the spiting his parents thing was definitely a vote in its favor #okay I have more thoughts but I've rambled too long so I'll shut up now! #legolas tag #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #willex #jatp #alex mercer #willie jatp #legolas filled prompt

[blackoctober-blog]

A Terrible Nightmare

Synopsis: Mrs. Jones had called Suzanne and her family to going visit her, but their car was already broken and mad about her husband forgetting to fixing before, they had an usual fight until arriving back home. Annoyed and disappointed, James decided to sleep on living room while Suzanne stayed on bedroom. However, this her last action gave terrible nightmares as consequences. Will she finally learn?

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

Sunday. Suzanne and James were finishing their last things until the brunet man would turn the car finally. Mary and Lilly were playing to brushing hair until the couple called them to go in, the girls ran to sit and put their seat belt.

"Is everybody ready?" He've asked. All of the girls responded with excitement and then, James started to drive the car, however the car started to make loud noises until it stopped in the middle from the way. At first, they thought there was no gas or there was some piece of wood on motor, but the car was completely broken. And which made Suzanne be completely mad and highly stressed and while James tried to confort and fix the issue, Suzanne just said him a lot of aggressive names until James lost his patience.

"Fine. I had been tired from you treating me as shit for so long. You only disrespect me and forget that I have so many feelings as you do. You know, I'm done. Completely done." And then, Suzanne tried to touch his shoulder but he was so mad that didn't want to say any word to his woman.. The kids watched in shock and sadness. Lilly started to cry silently while Mary hugged her.

"Don't cry, little sis... It wasn't nothing." She whispered sweetly. Suzanne sat on car while James just ordered her to be quiet while he pushed back to Billy's garage, his old peer. Billy fixed his car and guaranteed this thing wouldn't happen again and it took like for hours. When it came ready, it was like 21:00 pm, Suzanne had asleep on belt and the girls embraced each other, the man thanked his old pal and finally drove back to their home. During their way, million of thoughts came to James' mind - his harsh childhood, non-good relations to his parents, Suzanne from math' class, their first date, their marriage and then, when they had their first kid.

Even he loving Suzanne since the first time he took his eyes from her, he was tired. Thoughts about divorce and try to move on own way couldn't stop screaming on his brain, finally at the Carter's residence, first he took his two daughers to sleep on their beds and then, he did the same to Suzanne, carrying the tired woman on his arms and leaving on their bed and covering her on blanket.

"I hope you're having sweet dreams." And closed the bedroom's door, James walked to the kitchen, where he cooked some dinner and then, boiled a camomile tea. Later, the tired man decided to watch some TV show to relax until his eyes closed and he felt asleep.

On bedroom, Suzanne was sleeping calmly but this peace was interrupted until tears started to rolling from your eyes. She've rolled right to the left, you could hear her calling for James.

"No, please! Wait!'' She tried to run after James but he didn't stop. And one time, he've suffered a car accident, making to wake up from hospital. His expression were like confused and under anesthesia' effects.

"Who brought me here?'' He asked. The doctor explained he was such a lucky man, once he couldn't survive after a young woman took him from the car and called the ambulance for rescue. When James asked who was supposed to be that woman, the doctor said Suzanne's name. At first, James tried to jump from the window but it were all locked and after some hours and a lot of efforts, James decided to calm himself and try to understand about what's going towards her. She've explained that lost her memories and couldn't remember anything except her high schooler times, before to get any relationship, both from Alex and then James. And she wished to ask him about their marriage's photo that she've found on his apartment.

James thought his ex-wife was kidding or maybe trying to manipulate, however he found she genuinely looked lost and unsure to understand about what happened. And some hours later, completely recovered, James left the hospital and accepted to help Suzanne about her lost memories when they were to reveal their marriage, the blonde woman had awake and finding that it was all a dream. Sweats couldn't stop from her body but she needed to reflect.

"I shouldn't be so mean to him that way. I have to apologize for all I done.'' And quickly, she jumped from the bed and ran after the living room, her relief came when she found he was just asleep and snoring soft on couch.

"Jimmy.. Jimmy?" He opened his eyes.

"Huh? What's wrong, Suzie? Couldn't you get to sleep again?'' His tone was gentle and polite, but isn't hard to say that he was still a bit mad for what she've done about him. Suzanne couldn't maintain painful tears and hugged him strongly.

"Forgive me, Jimmy. Shouldn't have been so mean to you like I did.'' James couldn't resist and hugged her back. At beginning, she was thinking as he didn't love her anymore due his silence but the brunet man surprised the blonde with a romantic kiss. Suzanne wrapped the arms around the man and both laid, kissing passionately even with tears rolling to her eyes. Wipping with his fingers, James revealed and vented for everything it happened but later, she understood all his words and both hugged each other in forgiveness. Then, the couple felt asleep on couch but now to happy expression.

The End.

#horrorblog78 #black-october-blog #suzanne jones #james carter

[bridgertonbabe]

well ok now that you gave us soft teacher!benophie can we have a wee bit soft takemyhand!benophie moments? I miss them 😭

Okay so we're fast-forwarding to Benophie and their babies;

Benedict had set himself a little mission, a mission which Sophie wasn't privy to. Thanks to Agatha Danbury counselling her, Sophie had shared with Benedict all of her insecurities and anxieties in being a mother, of wanting to make Charlie proud and never letting him down, and wanting him to know just how much she loved him with every fibre of her being. Benedict knew without a doubt that Charlie knew he was loved by his mother and that Charlie utterly loved Sophie; and he knew the exact thing that would assure Sophie of their son's love for her. The mission Benedict had assigned for himself was to ensure that Charlie's first word was "mama". Whenever Charlie began babbling incoherently, Benedict would respond by constantly repeating "mama" over and over again, hoping his son would pick it up and imitate it. "Look, Charlie! It's mama! Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, mama, mama!" Was what he said to Charlie every time Sophie entered the room (she never even questioned it, simply assuming her husband was stuck in baby-talk mode). He would even hold a photo of Sophie in front of Charlie and keep repeating "mama", trying in vain to ingrain the word into Charlie's growing mind. It wouldn't be until the week before Charlie's first birthday that Benedict discovered if his mission had been a success. "There's my fairly odd baby!" Sophie cooed as she entered the room and saw Charlie, dressed as Poof from Fairly OddParents, in the arms of Benedict, dressed as Cosmo ahead of the Bridgerton Halloween party later on that evening. Charlie perked up once he saw his mother, a look of awe lighting up his face as she approached, and then - "Mama!" Sophie halted and gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth, her eyes round and she exchanged looks with an ecstatic Benedict. "Did he just say-" she began to ask but she was interrupted. "Mama!" Charlie cried out enthusiastically once more, making grabby hands at his beloved mother. A whimper escaped Sophie as her eyes welled up with tears, overcome with emotion from being wanted by her baby. "Who do you want?" Benedict chanted to his son. "Mama!" "When do you want her?" "Mama!" "Well, come on, Soph!" Benedict beckoned her over. "Don't leave him hanging!" Sophie surged forward, catching Charlie in her arms as her son lurched out of Benedict's grasp in his eagerness to unite with her. "Mama!" he beamed and peppered her cheek with his attempt at kisses. "Mama." he sighed into her skin, perfectly content to be in her arms. Benedict would never forget the look of absolute joy on his wife's face as she rocked their son in her arms, blissfully proud to have achieved his mission in bringing Sophie nothing but pure happiness.

Sophie had bathed Charlie and tucked him into bed when she poked her head into the nursery to check on Alex, only to discover his crib empty. She looked around but the house was empty and there was only one other place her youngest could be. With a baby monitor in hand to make sure Charlie was alright, she walked down the garden and entered her husband's studio. Sure enough, there was Benedict and Alex, the pair of them splattered in paint, with their eighteen month old son sitting atop a messy canvas. "And what do we have here?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow up at the pair of them. "Mama, mama, mama!" Alex greeted her with a toothy grin (Benedict had also ensured his first word was the same as his brother's), waving his paint-stained hands at her. "We've been painting." Benedict informed her. "Oh, no way." she replied sarcastically, her husband pulling a face at her in return. "And what's the meaning behind this piece?" she enquired as she studied the mess before her. "It's a way for Alex to express himself." Benedict answered. Sophie grinned, having sensed this latest work of art would be like the one hung up in Charlie's bedroom, which Charlie himself had created, ending up in much the same state as Alex currently was. "Well it looks wonderful." Sophie smiled fondly as she noticed tiny multicoloured footprints trailing across the canvas. "But now it's time for bath and bed?" Benedict supplied. "Exactly." she nodded. "I'll take him up." Benedict volunteered. "You had better." she retorted, motioning to her white top. Once Benedict had deposited Alex in the bath, Sophie took over scrubbing the paint off of the toddler, who spent most of the bathtime giggling as he played around with the bubble bath. Once he was all fresh and clean, and once she had towelled him dry, Alex was worn out and fell asleep as soon as she laid him in his crib. When she entered her bedroom, she was surprised to see her husband still stained with paint. "Were you planning on washing tonight?" she asked him, placing the baby monitors on the bedside table as he stripped his top off. "Ben, how on earth did you manage to get paint under your shirt?" she tsked. "I'm an artist, it happens." he shrugged with a crooked grin and began stripping his trousers off. "So are you planning on washing tonight or not?" she asked again. "I was thinking," he drawled once he had kicked his trousers to the side and fixed her with a knowing grin, "perhaps you might want to help me wash this off." "So you think after bathing our sons that I would want to clean you up as well?" she raised an eyebrow. Benedict shrugged, a smirk still pulled on his face. "You've never passed on an opportunity to get wet before." he replied playfully. She glowered at him but she could only maintain it for so long before she sighed. "Dammit, I can't believe that worked." he snickered and wound his arms around her. "Ben, my top!" she squawked, eyeing his paint-stained arms. "Oh no, let me help you with that." he chuckled and quickly stripped her of her shirt. "In fact, let me help you with all of it." he said before drawing her into a kiss as he fiddled with the button of her jeans.

#asks #take my hand now and forever #benophie #sophie x benedict #benophie babies #charles bridgerton #alexander bridgerton #i've got more to post but i've been hit with the character limit