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#and if you didn't could you pass this around :) thanks
sunrizef1 · 17 hours
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The Alchemy
Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader
Warnings: Cursing
Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx
Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)
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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”
Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.
“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.
Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”
There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.
“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.
The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.
The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.
You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.
You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.
You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.
Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.
Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.
He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.
When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.
He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.
“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”
You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”
“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.
You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”
“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!
“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”
The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”
“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”
Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”
You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”
“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.
“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.
He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”
You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.
But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.
He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.
“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.
You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him
“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.
“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.
You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.
No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.
Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.
Oh, that cheeky bastard.
Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.
When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.
Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.
You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.
You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.
A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.
But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.
“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.
“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”
He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.
“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.
As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.
“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.
“I’d love to.”
Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”
You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.
“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.
“You sure?”
You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”
“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.
“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.
Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.
When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.
Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.
The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.
He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.
That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.
A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.
It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.
Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.
You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.
So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.
“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”
You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”
“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”
You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”
There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”
“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”
“You can't pick the garage?”
“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”
“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.
“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.
Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.
When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.
You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.
On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.
He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.
“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.
Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”
Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”
Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.
“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.
“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.
“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.
“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.
“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.
“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.
Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”
With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.
“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.
Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.
He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.
“What’s up mate?”
“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.
Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”
Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.
“What was that about?”
“No idea.”
Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.
His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.
“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.
“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.
“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.
Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”
You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.
Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.
But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.
As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.
He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.
“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”
Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.
It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.
“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.
“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.
Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.
When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.
“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.
Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”
Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”
Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”
Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”
Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”
“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”
When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”
Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.
“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.
You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.
You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.
You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.
“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.
“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.
Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”
You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.
“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.
You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”
Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”
Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”
He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”
You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.
James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.
“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”
You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.
“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”
Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”
Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.
Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”
You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.
“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”
You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”
James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”
You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.
“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”
He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.
It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.
P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.
You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.
You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.
The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.
Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.
Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.
He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.
When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.
Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.
Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”
You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”
Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”
You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”
You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.
Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.
You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.
Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.
“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.
Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”
Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”
Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”
Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”
They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.
The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.
Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.
You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.
“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”
A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.
“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.
“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.
The Alchemy - y/n l/n
Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.
Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.
“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.
“Thanks man, it’s about me.”
Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.
Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.
You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.
As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.
———————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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coco-loco-nut · 2 days
Text
Book Club - Part 5
Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader
Summary: the wedding, not too much grid involvement (sorry!!!)
masterlist
________
You didn't expect planning a wedding to be this hard. You and Lance agreed on something more low-key, but that doesn't really happen when you are both famous in your own right and you are marrying the son of a billionaire, so you settled on a fancy but small wedding. Lawrence funded the whole wedding, wanting the day to go off without a hitch, besides you and Lance getting hitched obviously. Lance took care of planning the Honeymoon, leaving you and Lawrence to plan the wedding.
"Y/n, go take a break. You are stressing out over nothing my dear. Let me handle it, your wedding shouldn't be stressful," Lawrence rests his hand on your shoulder and you nod, taking a deep breath. Your soon-to-be father-in-law has done a great job so far at bringing your vision to life, so you trusted him to argue with the beach venue in Greece. You walked away and went to the mini library of the Switzerland home.
Your bridal party/mini vacation to a small beach town in Corsica, planned by none other than George Russell and Chloe Stroll, was fabulous. The weekend flew by so quick, and Daniel made it his personal mission to get you drunk off your ass 24/7. The whole book club, besides Fernando made up your bridal party, in addition to George, Logan, and Chloe.
“Y/n, you look beautiful,” Chloe and Claire help the stylists put finishing touches on you. The greek sun has tanned you perfectly the past couple days, and given you a beautiful glow. There is a knock on the door and Chloe is quick to open it. Your bridal party walks in, dressed in their tan suits.
“My daughter, you look stunning,” Kimi hugs you, he is giving you away on your request.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Your bridal party consists of Chloe (your maid of honor), the book club (minus Fernando who is with his teammate), George, and Logan. Logan’s groomsmen is also filled with drivers as well as Chloe’s husband Scotty who is serving as his Best Man.
“Alright, time for one last meeting before testing,” Checo says, one of your wedding photographers making sure to catch the moment on camera. An hour filled with laughter passes quickly and soon enough, Lawrence is guiding you to your first look with Lance. It was one thing that you and Lance were certain of, wanting the private moment for yourselves.
Lance is standing on the balcony staring at the ocean, waiting for you. You spot a photographer standing in a corner of the large space, trying to remain invisible as you slip onto the balcony.
“Come here often?” your voice shakes slightly as the breath leaves you. He looks utterly handsome in his suit and perfectly styled hair.
“I- you look- wow,” he says, taking in every inch of you. Both of you look at each other, tears pricking in your eyes.
“I can, and will, say the same thing about you,” you grin, stepping towards him. He carefully pulls you into him, kissing you.
“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he rests his forehead on yours.
“Half an hour,” you could hear the sounds of your guests filling in.
“Then they will be able to see the most beautiful woman in the world,” Lance smiles, your heart racing.
“It will be a shame that they won’t be looking at you. How will they know that I am the luckiest girl in the world,” you return his smile.
“No, I am the luckiest guy. I get to marry a multitalented woman. You are an incredible racer, the most beautiful woman on earth, the kindest soul, and yet you choose me,” he continues his flattery.
“I am a good racer, not incredible,” you laugh. You aren’t like Max, Charles, Lando or Carlos, you don’t fight for podiums as often, but you do tend to hang around P4 or P5. You aren’t a world championship winning driver, it’s why Red Bull signed you to replace Checo in the upcoming season following his retirement. They need a solid second driver, and they know that Max will teach you more and push you.
“Nonsense, my baby is going to be driving for Red Bull, they chose you for a reason,” Lance reassures you.
“Y/n, Lance, one more minute,” Chloe interrupts.
“I’ll see you out there,” you squeeze his hands, a motion he returns. After a quick kiss, you follow him off the balcony. Your stylists do some quick touch ups before your party is escorted outside, you watch as the procession starts, Lance leading the pairs down the aisle. The grid takes the coupling in stride, holding arms with each other and making everyone giggle at them, including you.
“Are you ready, Kirppu?” Kimi asks, tears in his eyes.
“Remember, I’m training you for whenever those three get married,” you glance at your adoptive siblings.
“I know, they adore their older sister. Let’s not make Lance wait any longer,” Kimi sighs as you squeeze his arm. You and Kimi walk gracefully down the aisle, a wide smile on your face, and Kimi’s usually stoic face full of emotion. When the officiant, aka Sebastian Vettel, asks who is giving you away, he proudly identifies himself as your father, and when he sits down beside Minttu he is crying like a baby. The ceremony flies by, but you and Lance soak in every detail. Your vows to each other are short and sweet, not needing to say a lot to profess your love to each other.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Sebastian says, Lance wastes no time in wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss. The guys on both sides of you go nuts, Kimi cries again, and you pull apart with a grin. Lance picks you up and carries you down the aisle.
The reception takes place on the beach, you changed into a shorter, flowier, white dress for dancing and sand purposes, Lance’s suit jacket is off and the top few shirt buttons are undone. You and Lance entered first for the sole purpose of wanting to see how the ‘couples’ entered. Each driver pairing made the both of you laugh your butts off, very glad that there is video evidence of it.
You both refused to let Netflix film and other celebrity news outlets photograph any parts of the wedding, they weren’t invited and if they wanted media from it, they can pay the both of you a hefty sum. The security provisions for keeping away paparazzi meant that everyone was able to truly enjoy themselves.
“Family photo!” Minttu says, pulling you and Lance over as the reception starts. The first picture is just Robin, Rianna, and you carefully holding Grace, then Lance gets added in, then Kimi and Minttu join, then Lance leaves the picture so it is only you 6.
“My icecubes,” Kimi smiles at the pictures adoringly.
“One day we are going to drive for Ferrari together, just like Iskä,” Robin looks up at you and you smile, knowing that you will be far to old to do that when he is in F1.
“Heck yeah, little bro,” you hug him. Maybe you will get to be his race engineer, congratulating him when he wins his first championship.
“You two will be champions of the world together,” Lance winks at you and Robin.
“You look like a princess and a prince,” Rianna says, you pick her up and hug her. Kimi is silently combusting while watching his kids be cute together.
“That makes you a princess too, since you are my little sister,” you tickle her and she squirms out of your arms into Lance’s.
“I’ll protect you, don’t worry,” he angles her away from you as she laughs.
“Hey!” you laugh as well.
“Ok kids, let your older sister and brother greet their other guests,” Minttu says, Lances heart swells hearing himself included. You both make your laps around the tables, greeting the guests before dinner is served. The speeches are wonderful, and before you know it, you are dancing with Kimi for your Father-Daughter dance.
“Are you ok, Dad? You are crying more than I think you ever have,” you smile softly, as he uses a had to wipe his eyes.
“I just never expected to grow so close to you when I offered to mentor you, and now you are for all intents and purposes my daughter, and I’m so proud of how much you’ve accomplished this past year. If I had it my way, your last name would be Räikkönen, not Stroll now,” Kimi sniffles.
“About that. My new legal name is Y/n Räikkönen-Stroll. I talked to the family about it and they agreed, I was going to wait to surprise you,” you reveal, his smile quickly growing.
“I’m so happy to call you my daughter,” he hugs you as the song ends.
“No more happy as I am to call you my dad,” you squeeze him tight. As the night ends, you and Lance are whisked away to catch the private jet to wherever Lance planned the Honeymoon.
instagram
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y/username now and forever Y/n Räikkönen-Stroll ily @/lancestroll
lancestroll can’t wait to spend forever with you ❤️
fernandoalonso félicitations , beautiful wedding!
kimiraikkonen Congratulations, Kirppu, so glad to have a new addition to the family.
y/username thanks dad!
sebastianvettel Congrats to the happy couple! Always a good wedding when Kimi cries!
logansargeant poor Nico, his grid wife has a grid husband now
nicohulkenberg No one can separate us, our love is eternal
y/username who said I can’t have both! 🥰
lancestroll @y/username …me, your husband???
redbullracing our favorite grid couple! p.s. let us know what name your are racing under - Admin
y/username Y/n Räikkönen, two Strolls on the grid would be too chaotic. love you admin 🫶
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jgracie · 2 days
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WHERE’S THE TROPHY? HE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO ME!
↳ part one!
(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader
masterlist | rules
on the radio . . . the alchemy (taylor swift)
an this is dedicated to everyone who said i should write a part 2 thank u for supporting my agenda <3 AND thank you to all the people who helped me understand hs football culture i hope this was a realistic depiction 😓 !!
football never failed to make you feel anxious. before you started dating jason, you didn't really care for it, only showing up for games because you liked the whole 'team spirit' thing and because it was a good excuse to hang out with your friends. now, however, things have changed
since it was jason's whole life, you took it upon yourself to learn all about the rules of the game and the roles of the different players (with a special interest in jason's role for no reason in particular). now, whenever you showed up to a game, you'd actually be watching your school's every move, ignoring your friends' banter and focusing on jason and jason alone
'this is just a friendly match' is the mantra you kept repeating in your head as you watched. you knew that deep down, having a match sprung up on him like this bothered jason, even though it wouldn't count for anything. you also knew that this would affect his skill regarding the game. at this point, you've memorised jason's every move by heart, and you could tell that today just wasn't his day
the rest of the team looked pretty hopeless too. with their captain in this condition, how could they stay positive? they relied on jason to lift their spirits and up their motivation. little did they (and you) know, jason relied on you to lift him up
ever since you started actually paying attention to games, cheering him and only him on, wearing his jersey with his surname plastered on your back, his prowess went from amazing to formidable. there were times when juggling schoolwork, social life and being the captain of the football team really got to him, and he almost considered shutting himself off from the world. but then he'd remember your sugary smile and kind words and addictive lips and he'd feel rejuvenated. just the thought of you alone was like a lifeline to him
this was one of those times. he turned to look at you, sitting all pretty on the bleachers. despite being in the midst of a sea of purple, jason could pinpoint you within a millisecond. he gave you a small grin, and you waved at him as you sported a smile of your own
"go jason!" you yelled, your voice making jason feel like he ate some of the ambrosia greek demigods would in those myths you learnt about in class. all of a sudden, he was full of energy and quickly passed that on to his teammates, hyping them all up for the rest of the game. they could still win this
and they did. others believed it was a miracle, but jason knew what it was. it was you. if you weren't there, they probably would've suffered a scathingly embarrassing loss against CHB high, who'd been shading them for their 'too rigid' style of playing. begrudgingly, their headmaster brought out the trophy, about to present it to jason when he realised the boy had disappeared
jason didn't care about the trophy. instead of collecting it, taking a few pictures and making a speech, he ran over to you - nearly jumping over the barrier between the bleachers and the pitch to give you a very heated kiss. how could he care about the trophy when his real prize had been here all along?
(the picture of the two of you kissing had been passed around school and you'd gotten teased relentlessly afterwards, but you didn't care. you truly were in your own world - who were you to fight the alchemy?)
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youaresimplylovely · 12 hours
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"Daddy can you pass me the salt?"
. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠.
Pairings: Carlos Sainz x Wife!Reader
Summary: In which Y/N tries out the "Daddy can you pass me the salt?" trend during dinner with your family and your husband Carlos
Words: 647
Proofread!!
A/N: another one shot for u guys ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡
Everyday and every scroll you make on TikTok, that trend always popped up. The "daddy can pass me the salt?" where girls would do the trend on their father and their boyfriend or husband. The reactions were always funny, you wondered how your father would react.
That's why when you had a dinner scheduled with your family and your husband this weekend, you didn't hesitate to not try it out.
 ̄ ̄
The dinner was going great and to your surprise and to a big coincidence well you like to think it's a coincidence. The salt was next to your father as you guys ate. You were sat next to your husband, across from you was your mother and your brother. And your father, which was in the middle front of the table with the salt next to his plate.
You decided it was time to try it out, you may regret it but life's full of it so why not? You said to yourself. Taking a deep breath you say the words "Daddy can you pass me the salt?"
Carlos didn't think much of the situation, his hand stretching to grab the salt as his hand met with your father who was gonna reach the salt out for you too.
You weren't joking when Carlos had dead ass fear in his eyes. He quickly took his hand out, putting it on his hands as he rubs it on his lap.
Chuckling nervously and stuttering while your father looks at him. "i- Sir- i-" he stutters, he couldn't even finish his words.
Your brother laughed at the situation, your mother couldn't help but laugh too. "Which daddy?" Your brother snickers eventually bursting into laughed
You glare at him, chuckling nervously as your gaze shifts back to your father.
His eyebrows raised, a small smile pursing his lips. "Daddy-" Before you could finish your sentence you were cut off by your father.
"What? No I'm not your daddy, you need salt right? Yeah ask your daddy" he chuckles, his eyebrows still raised as he looks at Carlos.
"Dad-" again, you were cut off. Was it right you did the trend? Your thought to yourself, you wish you had recorded it for memory.
"Y/N." Your father says sternly, looking at you and Carlos while he wipes his mouth with a napkin.
You sigh, in defeat. When your father called you by your first name you knew he was serious. You pout, turning your head to face Carlos as you take a deep breath. "daddy... can you pass me the salt please?" You say in a low voice, clearly embarrassed from the situation.
Your father chuckles at you while he watches the situation unfold. Boy did your mother and brother find it amusing.
Carlos chuckles, despite him being embarrassed he was amused as well. He looks at your father, giving him a nod as he reaches his hand to grab the salt and passing it to you with a sweet smile.
You look down, taking the salt and you mumble a thank you to Carlos. Your family laughs the situation off, you thought your father would be mad but he wasn't. Your husband joined in on the laughing as the dinner continued. You couldn't help but laugh as well. Maybe the trend wasn't so bad after all.
 ̄ ̄
You and your husband arrived back at your house. Laying your body on the couch, sighing softly. Carlos sat next to you with a wide smile on his face.
"what?" You chuckle asking him with a curious look, noticing his wide smile.
He sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I guess I'm your daddy now." He laughs.
"Oh shut up!" You exclaim, playfully hitting his shoulder but you had a smile on your face.
Then again, you were thankful that your family supported your relationship and how you have the best husband in the world.
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cute-sucker · 1 day
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three mistakes
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words: 880 tags: kook!pope x reader note: thank you @princessbrunette for reading the draft !! love u <3
when pope first met you he didn't think much.
after all he was the smartest kid in the grade, so of course you were insignificant. you may have been a scholarship kid, a nice one at that. that was your number one mistake, and there were three that you committed that first week you arrived at kook academy.
two. you were a little too sweet on him, he thought because you always smiled brightly at him, and wore those cute little skirts. last week you had given him a brownie that you said you, "made." but then you dropped the napkin and leaned down to get it for him it was the school uniform, but you sure knew how to lay it sweet.
so what? you were pretty, but pope didn't fall for that sort of thing. nah, he had seen enough pretty bimbos, and after you were new. you couldn't change anything.
three. that was until science class. it was one of his easier subject but then again what subject was hard for him? and then he was laughing to his friends, the desk pushed back, and a smirk on his face. you were sitting in front of him, head bowed down and deep in thought. you were still thinking even after the teacher had left for a few minutes.
he had a sudden thought, just a small comment might tip you off. he'd experienced this with other girls. they liked it to argue, or teasingly fight, and you were there in front of him, just waiting to be messed with.
but what to say to you? pope had to be sly with these comments, just something to make your cheeks go red without causing your smile to wilt. it was art what pope could do with his sweet mouth, and pretty soft eyes. some said that his dick was the size of his ego, and some put it a little nicer — that he was charming. but that didn't matter because when he looked at you he knew he had to say something sweet but scandalous enough to cause you to giggle. he would never admit this—but he wanted to hear your laugh.
suddenly he remembered the butterfly necklace you always had on. it was silver, and so shiny on you. he swore that there was some sort of school regulation about jelewy, but you had managed to pass by with that cute necklace. it was little dangly thing that lay before your chest. it had dainty wings, and glittery in the sun. it reminded him of you.
"y'know i always thought butterflies were like cockroaches with wings. ugly you know?" pope muttered to his friend. but he couldn't help but gesture at you in a sly moment, and his friends got it. they sniggered, and pope knew in another life he would ditch the bastards for how stupid they were. antoni was the smartest of the bunch.
it was almost as if that piqued your interest. you turned around, doe eyes wide almost as if you were shocked and taken aback.
"i think butterflies are beautiful," you whispered outraged, tightly holding onto your necklace. pope could barely keep in his laughter at your dumbstruck expression. he leaned in to take a full look at your face before looking back at his friends with a mock surprised face.
"yea' you think?" he whispered crudely. "can a dumb little bunny like you think?"
suddenly, you seemed to coil in, biting your lip, hot tears welting up in your eyes. he could see the way your hands shook beneath the desk as you furiously turned around to face him. "butterflies can see ultraviolet colors that are invisible to the human eye," you cried out.
pope found him stopping in his tracks because he swore there were tears in your eyes when you whispered out the fact. yet, he couldn't find himself to care, somehow he found himself enjoying the look on your face. almost wonderstruck, he found himself taking in your pretty face.
what he wanted to say to you was, "so what?" but he found grinning at you like you were a child.
his friends were laughing behind his back, and but he could feel the stinging sensation that what you had said had mattered a lot more than the stupid conversations that he had.
and somewhere in the middle of this, you were glaring at him, and then sniffed before turning away from him.
but he shrugged it off. what could you do anyways? huh? cry to your parents about how pope heyward couldn't take you seriously. for all you knew, if your parents did complain, the dean of kook academy probably shrug you off because pope heyward was an asset to their school. but there was something inside of him, something soft and nice said that knew he should say sorry, yet when the bell rung he watched you leave the room in a rush only leaving him with a dirty glare.
so he forgot about it. you were just another dirt poor scholorship kid? the last one had to leave because they couldn't take the academics. funny. maybe the same would happen to you.
⊹˚. ♡
you ran home crying, mascara running down your face, as you pulled your tiny skirt down. you had tried to be nice, you had tried to kind and most of all you had tried your best to be friends with everyone. goddamn it you had even given heyward a brownie! he clearly didn't like you.
what was it? what was so wrong with you that he felt the need to be mean to you? all you had done was tried. you had always tried, as your head felt empty and studied till your hands were sore from highlighting and your eyes felt bleary from scanning pages. until it all paid off and you were off to kook academy.
your cousin kiara had told you to wear your butterfly charm, and the two of you made brownies. she had yelled bye to you that first day, and now you sat next to her crying your eyes out.
"what went wrong?" she asked you quietly, as you burrowed your head into your pillow. you groaned, and shook your head furiously.
"don't wanna talk about it," you whispered looking up at her. she looked at you sternly, and you finally let out a soft sigh, "it's pope heyward," at this she rolled her eyes, tilting her head as she thought of a plan. you hoped that somehow she would find an answer - a solution to your problem
"i think you should get back at heyward. be smarter than him. that's how assholes like him work. they have crazy big egos but that's all he has. he looks wimpy to me," she scoffed looking at the previous yearbook where you had furiously crossed out pope's face.
"yeah right," you huffed at her, crossing your arms as your eyebrows were knit together. "he's ten times smarter than me."
"no, i think your underestimating yourself. just wait and see, and don't you dare lose the butterfly charm."
so you listened to her, and the next day you had little pink bows with butterfly imprints. in fact you strutted up to pope and gave him a dirty look, and you saw the way his eyes got wide before he opted for his all-knowing smirk.
"looking like a really pretty bunny. did you wear those bows for me?" he snickered, nudging his friends when he said that. you gritted your teeth and just walked the other way.
you were going to beat him. you knew you were going to. today the class was getting their results back for the major english assignments. you were hoping to get something high enough to throw in his face, and you knew you would relish the look on his face.
"class, we'll be handing out test scores now for the written passage. ," your teacher droned before stopping before your test and handing you yours with a smile. you felt happiness bloom in your heart-it had to be good right?
quickly you turned it around, and looked at the circled number. 100, a pristine number that was circled along with a "distinct voice." you felt yourself beaming, until you felt a tap on your back. it was heyward, yet he looked uneasy. he was glancing at your hidden paper.
"what did you get?"
of course he'd want to know. he'd want to know what you got so he could average it himself. after all this was your first test of the year, and he was checking if you really were the scholarship kid that could get the best grades. you found yourself smiling secretly, biting your lip.
finally he gave you a pointed look, "do i need to clarify? what did you get on your test?" he asked exasperated.
you bit your lip from beaming too hard, and shrugged in a nonchalant manner. "full marks, i guess."
"what does that mean?" he grinned, "is that a 60% for you? would make sense, bunny," he muttered, his brown eyes glinting with humour. now you would have been sadder, but instead there was a venomous bite to your speech.
"do i need to clarify? it's a hundred percent."
he shut up, glaring at you, "you're lying."
"yeah, what did you get?" you bit back.
he shook his head, "none of your business."
so that was it. you let it go and turned away looking pleased. the last went by easier, and the golden hundred was still shining in the paper. it was a triumph. a win that pope heyward understood.
it was here that pope realised that he had made one mistake.
he had underestimated you.
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widowmaxff · 3 days
Note
In overwhelmed, it mentions that Y/N used to be in a dark hole and how Wanda is afraid she’d go back to it. Can you write about it? Like what happened?
hope ur ok
pairings: mom!wanda × daughter!reader (platonic)
warnings: depressed reader, cryingg, bad thoughts, and sad sad things
a/n: okay how did you pay so much attention to what i wrote in overwhelmed bc i didnt even remember writing that 😭 BUT THANK YOU for the request i literally just ramble what was in my head but hope you like it love!
HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!
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You don't know when it started, much less why it started. Maybe a few days ago, a month ago, maybe a year ago the signs that something was wrong started to appear. It was almost as if these feelings were always there, just hidden by a layer that was slowly removed and made everything more difficult. It seemed like there were days when you could easily deal with it, maybe ignoring it or just hiding it very well, you didn't know. But there were days that were more difficult. It was more difficult to get out of bed, your appetite was barely there, you didn't want to leave your room, just stay in darkness and total silence. Even though this silence made your head spin, it was better than anyone talking and making you even more depressed.
If someone asked the people closest to you if you were sensitive, you were sure that more than half of them would say no. They would talk about how you had a frozen heart, that you didn't cry when you watched a sad movie, that you didn't fall in love with the character when watching or reading a novel, that you didn't care when someone was fighting with you. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. You felt hard feelings most of the time, including when watching sad films. Maybe you just don't like showing the sadness and emptiness you feel. It makes you feel weak, worthless, and selfish, especially selfish. You shouldn't feel this way, not when you had the perfect life: a loving mother, food on the table, new clothes, and expensive sneakers. Then why?
You didn't really care that you felt depressed, you knew that eventually it would pass, just like every other time - even if that feeling came back some time later, even worse. It wasn't like anyone noticed and said anything to you, even though you were sure most of the adults around you blamed it on teenage hormones when they saw you sulking or just isolating yourself in your room all day. Maybe a few questions like 'are you okay?', even though they knew you would respond with something positive even if everything was falling apart. But there was always someone. Someone who knew that it wasn't just teenage hormones but something that was slowly consuming you. Wanda, your mother, was that someone, and she certainly didn't let those details slip.
The first time you actually showed that you were in a depressing state was on a random Thursday at six-thirty in the morning. Wanda didn't mind much in the first moments when you refused to get out of bed, it was normal for any teenager to not be able to stand school. But when you finally decided to show up for the morning in the Compound's kitchen, she was surprised. You had big black bags under your eyes that were tired and red, looking like you hadn't slept well that night and maybe you had been crying most of it. Wanda didn't take long to ask if something had happened and if you were okay, only receiving a murmur of something like ‘'m fine' before turning back to look at the emptiness of space. Tony who was nearby joked “Maybe the red eyes are because of something she used. Don't tell me you snuck out to a party, Mini Maximoff?”, you'd laugh on any other day, even replying something like 'Yes, I did some hard drugs at a party. How do you know?', but that wasn't the case. Stark laughed to himself after saying that sentence but soon the sound of his voice disappeared when he realized that you hadn't heard him and, apparently, nothing around you.
The second time was right after a mission Wanda had done. It was only three days away from you and everything seemed different when she came back. The first thing she noticed was that you didn't run into her arms when she stepped inside the Compound, much less respond to the messages she sent you a few hours earlier. Obviously like a worried mother she went after you, not taking long to find you in your room with all the lights off, two blankets around your body and how it looked like the things in your room had been in the same place since your mother left for the mission. She turned on the light in your room, hearing a soft growl leave your lips. You were awake and conscious, so it didn't make sense for you to want to be lying down and almost sinking into your mattress at four o'clock in the afternoon. She remembered when you were little and couldn't sleep if at least one light wasn't on, now it was ironic to think that you just lived in the darkness and emptiness of your room without fear that some monster would catch you, because no monster could hurt you like depression was.
Wanda couldn't count how many more episodes like those happened and lasted for several days. She was worried, very worried. She was afraid that you would end up doing something that would hurt you, end everything. It was obvious that your mother tried to ask you what was wrong, how she could help you, but you always said that you just woke up on the wrong foot that morning and that everything was fine. Of course, how were you going to tell her what was happening if you didn't even know. There was no reason for you to feel down like that and not even the absurd desire to just want to close your eyes and not open them again. And every day that passed, this dark hole you were in would get deeper and deeper. You knew you needed to ask for help before it was too late. 
It was no longer strange when once again that week you had no will to live. You look at the clock next to your bed and realize that your mother would be coming to your room to call you for another day in two minutes and a few seconds. Just the thought of 'one more day' made you want to throw up the food you didn't even eat the day before, as that empty feeling made your hunger go away. But as much as vomiting, you wanted to cry, cry until you couldn't take it anymore. And it was no surprise when the tears started to fall and you couldn't stop. Even though you are not a loud person, trying to keep yourself in your own bubble, the sobs wanted to get out of your throat anyway.
“Darling?” Wanda didn't mind knocking on your bedroom door in the morning, since you would be sleeping, well, not at that moment. When she heard the choking sounds you were making to keep from crying, she didn't take long to run towards your body on the bed and get under your covers, pressing you against her chest giving the perfect comfort to let you know that you weren't alone. “Oh, my love.” Wanda has seen you cry, many, many times, but it was so different to see you cry as if you were drowning in a sea and needed help from someone, anyone. “It's okay, Mama is here.” With each passing minute it seemed like the tears were getting even bigger than before, but you tried to focus on Wanda's heartbeat as you placed your hand on her chest, making you feel calmer despite all the panic. 
The lullaby that starts to leave her lips and go straight to your ear makes you start paying attention to the soft melody and not your terrible thoughts. The language Wanda sang in, Sokovian, was not understood by you, but you still remembered when she sang you to sleep on the days you had nightmares. It was as if Wanda was using her magic to calm you down, even though you knew she would never use her powers on you without your permission, but her voice was so sweet that it was more powerful than any of her red magic. Your breathing becomes soft and your movements slow, as if you were choosing the right words to get rid of that moment, but with your mother there it was almost impossible to lie.
“I wanna get help,” You murmur for just her to hear, despite there being no one else in the room with you two. “b-but I don’t even know why I’m like this.” Your crying had stopped, but you still choked to say a few words. Admitting those words out loud seemed like a challenge for you, and when you said them, a weight seemed to lift off your back despite not having yet deciphered all your feelings. And Wanda knew that. She knew how hard you were to avoid looking like a weak person even if you weren't, even if asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness but rather of improvement.
Your mother kisses your head, taking a few seconds before cupping your face and looking at it. “I'm so proud of you, my angel.” You didn't see pity or lies in the expression on her face. You didn't see disappointment and much less as if you were a problem for her. “I'm glad you want to ask for help, and I'm here for it, yeah?” You felt a little guilty when you saw a tear come out of your mother's eyes, but she was still smiling. The same smile you saw when you woke up, or when you told her some good news, or even when you told her a joke. Wanda never wanted you to feel anything negative about her. She never took out any frustration on you, never made you feel bad when you got a bad grade at school, or when you accidentally knocked a glass on the floor. “I will help you with whatever you need, my love. It will be slow, but I promise that the tightness in your chest will pass, okay?”
“I trust you.” She nods before pulling you into a hug that she knew you needed more than anything at that moment. The process would take a long time until you felt well again, you both knew that, but it was never too late. It's never too late to ask for help, because it's normal to need someone to pull you out of the dark hole sometimes, it's normal to not feel good all the time. Having feelings is normal, even if sometimes they are too deep, or too shallow. You just needed to realize that you were never alone, that people around care about you and will always want the best for you. 
“I love you so much. Always remember that.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
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reallyromealone · 19 hours
Text
Title: miscommunication
Fandom: Scott Pilgrim vs the world
Characters: Julie, Wallace, Scott, ramona
Fic type: story hurt to comfort
Pairings: Wallace x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, miscommunication
Notes:
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
(name) sat quietly in the train, staring at the passing city lights as the C.N tower could be seen in the distance, glowing red tonight...
But that didn't matter.
None of it mattered.
He felt his eyes water as the GO train robot spoke "Next stop, Union station" he was just so tired as he got off and walked through the platform to Old Union.
His eyes were watery as he walked through the old station hall to Bayview and took a deep breath of the fall air that overtook Toronto, freezing the tears of heartbreak that threatened to fall down his cheeks.
He was just so tired of Wallace Wells.
The two just had another fight, (name) wanted to take their relationship forward but Wallace said he liked living on his own... The two arguing and now here he was...
Walking to his lonesome apartment.
His apartment was six city blocks from the station, but he didn't care as he walked down the streets with clouded thoughts rushing through his head, was he not good enough? He didn't mean to push he just wanted to know... Hell, he hadn't even been to his own boyfriend's apartment.
When he got home, he slid against his apartment door and sobbed, the sound of the city muddling his sobs.
Why wasn't he good enough?
(Name) Was sluggish as he made coffee after coffee, Julie watched in the corner but didn't comment as she was already well aware of what happened from the texts from Wallace, the black-haired man worried sick after (name) ran off during a fight, the spectacled woman ripping into him for his cowardice and to just be honest with (name).
"Julie... I'm going on break..." (Name) Whispered as he went to the back area, between storage and boxes was the break area and he sat down on one of the small plastic folding chairs and just stared off... "Oi! This Friday, I have a party and I better see your ass there!" Julie smacked the back of (name) 's head and the other huffed but knew she worried, the two close friends and he knew she had his back.
(Name) Stood in the corner of the party with a sigh, normally he would be with Wallace and their friends but there was no sign of his boyfriend anywhere, and (name) just took a sip and stared "You good?" A voice spoke out and (name) glanced up to see a pink-haired girl "Oh, you're Julia's friend right? Romina?" (Name) Said softly to the other "Yeah, what's your deal?"
"... It's kind of heavy" (name) mumbled and Ramona dragged him to a couch "I got time to kill," she said simply and (name) chuckled and explained how he wanted to move in with his boyfriend and how hurt that he was being shut out without even a bit of conversation "it's like he doesn't even want to be in a relationship with me..." (Name) Whispered and Ramona sighed "Call him on his shit," she said simply and (name) furrowed his eyebrows "Go to his place tomorrow and call him on it"
"Yeah... I think I'll try that" (name) said calmly as he looked at the other "Thanks"
"No problem " She smiled softly and watched as (name) walked off.
(Name) Didn't wait till tomorrow, having taken three shots of vodka and stood in front of his boyfriend's apartment and knocked on the door, swaying slightly as the door opened to reveal "Who are you?" (Name) Grumbled as he looked behind to see the single bed "I'm Scott, I love it here?" Scott said confused and (name) squinted "And you live with Wallace... And share a bed?" He felt his heart break a bit more as the other nodded "Uh, yeah... Do you see another bed?"
"He's cheating on me?" (Name) Whispered and Scott looked confused as (name) turned around pulled out his phone and drunkenly dumped Wallace.
'wr don hv fun witgkfk spot' was what Wallace got as he arrived at the party in a hot outfit and an apology ready for (name) who was supposed to be there as his world shattered around him.
When he got back to his apartment, Scott looked confused "Someone came here, he was looking for you, real angry" Scott said as Wallace looked over "said something about cheating"
Oh no.
Wallace needed to find (name).
(Name) Sobbed as he sat on a bench in a high park, drunk and sad as he thought about the events that took place.
Was this why he was so avoidant of living with him?
His phone kept going off but (name) ignored it as he looked around, he remembered coming here with Wallace after their first date and... More tears fell out of his eyes as he sobbed uncontrollably.
It was sheer luck that Wallace found (name) in the massive city, seeing him curled up and crying "(name), shit..." Wallace was always so cool and passive but now he was panicking as (name) drunkenly pulled away from him "Go be with Spot!" He drunkenly yelled and on another day Wallace would have found (name)s incorrect name of his parasite of a roommate funny but he just wanted his boyfriend to not be crying and angry "Baby I'm not fucking or doing anything with Scott, I would never do that to you" he said to (name) who drunkenly shook his head "you sleep with him! He was wearing your shirt!"
"Because he just showed up at my place and won't leave!"
"You don't wanna live with me because you have that twink..." (Name) Wobbled "Why don't you want me? I-I want you all the time and I don't get it!" Wallace always avoided answering this when they argued and now it was the make or break of this relationship "I'm terrified" Wallace admitted "If we lived together you would realize I'm not so cool and stuff as you think and you will hate me"
"You're fucking stupid... You know how many times I cried because you made me feel like this!" (Name) Let Wallace hold him close as he cried again over his stupid boyfriend "You're not cheating?" (Name) Wobbly asked and Wallace kissed his head "I would rather die than date Scott Pilgrim, he's that fucker dating the 17-year-old" Wallace explained and (name) sobered a bit as he cuddled Wallace's side '"will you at least think about moving together? I promise I won't get bored of you or anything... I just wanna wake up to you"
Wallace smiled and kissed his boyfriend, the taste of beer and vodka on his lips "I will now let's go home, you are fucking shit fa-- and you threw up in the bushes, I'm calling a cab"
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Text
A Woman Like You Shouldn’t be Tucked Away
𖤐Pairing: Price x F! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: smut, fluff, language, mention misogyny, toxic ex-relationship, age gap, groping, blind date, kissing/making out, P in V, hand job, blowjob, strangers to lovers,
𖤐Summary: You try something new for once and that “something new” is blind dating, your friend had set you up with someone and you don’t know how you’ll feel about him
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Y/n’s foot taps the ground impatiently.
He’s late, she thought to herself. She had decided to step out of her comfort zone and she wanted to try something new and that was trying blind dating.
Y/n’s friend had met a guy trough a website that had connected you to Military people, she had met him and then had suggested Y/n to meet his friend who was looking to start dating again.
All she knew about him is that he is a widower. His wife had passed away from a heart attack and he thought about not dating again, but he wanted to get back into looking for someone again.
Y/n had thought about leaving a few times but gave him the benefit of the doubt and stayed for a little bit. Maybe he’s nervous because he’s meeting someone new? Who knows.
As her fingers ran around the rim of her wine glass someone had moved the chair in front of her, she jumps and looks up seeing a man.
“Are you John Price?” She asked.
“Yes…I’m sorry I’m late…just a bit nervous,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants.
“It’s okay…I’m nervous as well,” she says.
John had ordered his food and drink and they waited, there was close to no conversation, but every so often.
"My friend said...you're a widower?"
"Yep...trying to get back into the dating world again."
"How long was it since she passed?" Y/n asked, hoping it wasn't a touchy subject.
"6 years..."
"Wow. I'm sorry for your lost."
"It's okay...I'm okay," he says. "Tell me about you...did you date?"
"I dated my ex for 5 years..."
"Can I ask what happened for you two to break it off?" He asked.
"...He was...misogynistic."
"Oh wow...what would he say?"
"He wasn't like this in the beginning of our relationship. He started getting social media and then over time became very misogynistic, I use to make more money than him, and he started calling me names like a whore and slut because he accused me of selling pictures of myself for money, which wasn't the case." Y/n could go on and on about this ex of hers.
"Then...when I quit my old job because of some co-workers, and when I was looking for a new job he would tell me that I should stay home and be a good little housewife and do chores and make him his dinner before he gets home. So, I had enough and left him within a week because I was over it...sorry...I'm rambling," she says.
"No, no, it's okay, I understand...but a woman like you shouldn't be tucked away." He says.
Y/n's face started to heat up, she was blushing. "T-Thank you," she says with a soft smile of her face.
"Did he...do anything else?" He asked.
"He was just an asshole..." she says. Soon their food arrived and the waiter coming back to refill their drinks.
John hadn't eaten he was listening to Y/n as she talked, which was kind of crazy for Y/n...she hardly talked and most of the time no one listened to her, so it was surreal that someone like John Price was even listening to her or even looking her.
John then leaned forward, his rough calloused hands had touched her smooth, bare knee and then moving up to her soft plush thigh. She jumps and stops eating, putting her fork down and she looks up at John who was still looking at her.
She clears her throat. "A-Are you going to eat?" She asked him.
"I will," he says, his hands still touching her thigh and then soon his hands left her thigh and he starts to eat. In a way, Y/n didn't want his hand to leave her, with his touch she felt safe versus her ex who seem to only been with her for sex.
Soon after John and Y/n were done eating and Y/n wasn't drinking anymore. John then talks about his life and Y/n listens to him like he did with her, almost looking at him.
"Anyways...this was fun, Y/n."
"Really?" She says kind of surprised.
"Yeah...when you wanna meet for the second date?" He asked, giving her his phone and she put her number into his phone giving it back.
"Umm~ I-I don't know...I didn't think I'd even get this far," she gives him an awkward giggle.
"We'll talk about it..." he says
They both get up from the table and John walked with Y/n to her car opening the driver door for her.
"I'll text you later?" He says. She just nods.
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3 Months Later
Y/n laid on her stomach on with her book in her hands, an oversized shirt that was actually Price's. Price had asked Y/n to come stay the night with him every now and then.
Price had came out of the shower, towel around his waist and another rubbing his hair dry. Y/n didn't know Price had came out of the shower till she felt a semi wet hand on the back of her thigh, giving her a soft kiss.
"John?"
"Hmm?" He hums. She looks over her shoulder his hands going up her shirt and squeezing her butt earning a soft moan from her.
"What are you doing?" She asked. He doesn't answer but just keeps kissing her thighs. She moans and looks back at her book. The bed shifts and his legs are on either side of her.
Price leans over her kissing her neck and rubbing his hands up her shirt squeezing her breasts now. She just smiles at him and kissed his cheek.
"You smell good," she says.
"You do too."
"I smell like sweat," she says.
"Nah, you smell good," he repeats. Price then rubs himself against her. She moans throwing her head back, her head on his shoulder as his hand was under her chin kissing her jawline and cheek.
"Let me do the work," he says, kissing down her body. He removes his towel from his waist and then he lifts the bottom of her shirt up revealing her panties, he pulls them off her lower half, lifting herself up just a bit to make it easy for him.
He starts to pump himself a few times before gently sliding himself inside of her. Y/n was a moaning mess, mewling at his slow and soft thrusts. Price smirks at her sudden moans.
Since the day she met Price, he was always gentle with her, their second date was at the movies and he didn't leave her thigh alone the entire movie.
Their first time doing it together was soft and gentle, Price didn't want to hurt Y/n it's not something he'd do to a woman he's interested in.
Price held Y/n's hands above her head as he slightly started to pick up the pace, she moans and her legs wrap around his waist.
He picks up the pace, the time pulling her to his lap and helping her bounce on him, her hands resting on his shoulders, his hands resting on her butt squeezing her and kissing her neck, leaving behind a few small purple hickies.
Price loves this girl, who would hurt her is the question? Price then leaned forward their lips landing on each other, soft and gentle as he lays her back on her back and then starts moving faster and he feels her squeezing around him.
"Oh fuck!" He threw his head back.
"J-John," he leans down holding her head and kissing her lips.
He just smiles as he moves faster and faster, he sits up placing his hand on her lower stomach feeling his dick bulging from her stomach.
"Fuck," the both curse.
Y/n grabbed the bottom of her shirt lifting it up and putting the end in her mouth. She ended up coming, John felt it wanting to escape from her. He pulls out, he puts his head back and was catching his breath as Y/n was too.
Y/n let go of the end of her shirt and she felt like melting into the bed.
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2 Years Later
Y/n and Price were living together now. Price sat in the living room as Y/n was coming to the living room with a mug of hot tea for Price and one for her.
She sits next to him, she placed her mug on the coffee table in front of them, she smiles up at him as he was focused on the TV, she smirks and starts moving her hand onto his crotch rubbing him and watching as his face was becoming red.
"watch that hand of yours."
"Or what?" She teased, her hands then starts unbuckling his jeans a pulling his dick out and starts pumping him a few times. He groans and bucks his hips up into her hand.
Y/n looks up at him licking the corner of her mouth and leaning down licking his tip and kissing his tip as well. Price tries his best to look at the TV and distract his mind, but his little girlfriend was good at giving him head.
He tossed his head back, groaning and bucking his hips up. She slightly gags every time his tip hits the back of her throat. Y/n looks up at him through her hair.
"F-Fuck," he moans, leaning back and he placed his hand on the back of her head. She moves his hand away from her head and moved her mouth from his dick.
"Love," he groans. She just smiles and climbs on top of him and she moves her panties to the side and she slowly slides herself onto him.
"Fuck," they both moan.
"You are an evil woman."
"Me? Never," she smiles at him as she slowly grinds on him, earning a groan from his lips.
"Fuck me," he moans. She wanted to say something snarky but Price kisses her from saying anything. "No words from you," he says.
"Y-You don't even know what I-I was going to say," she teases.
"I already am," he says.
"Damn," she smiles kissing him.
"God I wanna come," he moans.
"Do it," she teased him. She was moving a bit faster on him, his hands holding her waist and he felt like coming inside of her.
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deerlottie · 1 day
Note
ex gf lottie + statement when you get hurt on the plane, reconciliation, pls?
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warnings: angst, fluff, martinez!reader for plot reasons.... probably shit medical advice idk, not proofread
you wake up to the feeling of being dragged, garbled voices speaking in a rushed manner. as you come to, you can make out lottie's voice in the mix of everyone else's. you're propped against something when you get the energy to open your eyes, and the sight that greets you has you in shock.
everyone's in a panic, and the plane you were just on a minute ago crashed into the ground with bodies surrounding it.
"hey, hey, don't look." lottie, your ex-girlfriend, grabs your chin softly and faces you towards her. she has a couple of scratches on her face and her clothes are covered in soot.
"l-lottie?" you gurgle, spitting up blood. you suddenly feel lightheaded, seeing black dots in your vision as you try to keep yourself awake.
"shit, where are you hurt?" lottie pats you down urgently, her stomach dropping as she touches something sharp lodged in your abdomen. she lifts your shirt up and finds a piece of metal from the plane sticking out of you. it doesn't look too deep, she thinks. maybe she can just pull it out?
"don't," you plead, already knowing what she's planning to do as she grips onto your shoulders. "please, just, keep it—"
you let out a roaring scream as lottie pulls it out, murmuring apologies as she covers your gash with her hands, yelling for misty to come over with the bandages. darkness clouds your vision, and you pass out in lottie's arms.
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you wake up again, but this next time to a fire. you're lying in someone's lap, their fingers tangled in your hair as they play with it. you know who it is in an instant.
"you could've given me a warning, you know." you croak out, voice hoarse.
lottie's sudden jolt makes you groan in pain, clutching your bandaged stomach. she helps you sit up gently, looking at you with a regretful expression. "i know, i just- i wasn't thinking. i was scared and when you passed out i thought you were-"
she stops herself, taking a deep breath. she doesn't wanna think about that. all she cares about is that you're here and alive and breathing next to her. she wouldn't be able to live with herself if you had died like that, especially after what happened between you two just a few days prior to the game that won them the spot to nationals.
you still have bitter feelings about it.
how could she break up with you? you thought she loved you. she broke up with you when you had come to congratulate her in the lockeroom before rushing out, leaving you heartbroken and confused as to why.
how awkward it was when your dad said he was bringing you and your brothers on this trip.
you avoided lottie like the plague in the airport and on the plane, sitting the farthest you could away from her, thankful that she did the same. the last thing you remember is falling asleep on travis' shoulder before you woke up to excruciating pain.
lottie clears her throat, contemplating whether or not it's the right time to tell you. she decides for it, thinking that you deserve to know. "your dad - he, um...he didn't make it. i'm sorry."
you feel bile running up your throat, turning towards her with a blank expression. she immediately goes in to comfort you, rubbing her hand down your back but you push her away, standing up.
"don't touch me." you spit, and her eyebrows furrow. you begin to walk away, not even knowing where but all you know is that you want to get away from here. you clutch onto your stomach as you walk, heavy breaths coming out of your mouth from the discomfort.
"you shouldn't be walking," she yells after you, trying to grab your arm. "please, just, sit down."
"oh, now you care about me?" you flip back around, anger in your eyes. "fuck you, lottie."
"listen - i know you're grieving, but you don't have to be an asshole about it." she immediately knows she said the wrong thing, but she's too upset to care. "stop being so stubborn and sit down. you're gonna make your injury worse."
you scoff and continue walking into the unknown woods, lottie following right behind you. every step you take, you can feel blood gush out, and you collapse onto your knees when you feel a sharp pain in your abdomen.
lottie rushes up to you, leaning you against a tree stump to help you. your shirt is soaked with blood. she's gonna need misty to rebandage you. she starts to get worried as you mumble incoherently, head leaning back as you stare up into the night sky.
"why did you break up with me?" you suddenly ask. her mouth gapes open as you look at her with dazed eyes. "you never told me why."
she scoffs, shaking her head as she helps you up again. she puts your arm around her shoulder as she slowly walks with you back to the camp.
"i could die from this, you know." you mumble, egging her on a bit. "you're just gonna let me die without knowing why?"
lottie rolls her eyes at your attempt at humor, huffing out before admitting why. "it was my parent's idea. they thought i wasn't focused enough on nationals and said i should break up with you. i didn't want to but you know me and my mommy issues."
"so, i tried to ignore you and push down my feelings but it just made it worse. i was gonna talk to you about it before we left at the airport, but you wanted nothing to do with me." she continues, glancing at you.
you slow down, signaling for lottie to stop walking. "i thought you were ignoring me. i thought you hated my guts."
"i could never hate you," she tentatively brings a hand up to your shoulder, which travels to cup your cheek. "i love you. always. i should've just talked to you about it instead of running away."
"that's right, you big idiot." you pull her in for a kiss, a kiss that you've missed for those oh, so lonesome 7 days. she sighs into your mouth, tangling her hands in your hair to bring you in deeper. you groan as pain stabs you in the stomach again, resting your head against her shoulder as she starts walking again.
"you owe me a lot of make up kisses, by the way."
lottie taglist: @nebuloustraveller @ethvrealz @jadeisnothere5
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rrafecameronsslut · 2 days
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𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤
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warnings: fluff, teasing, flirting, slight sexual tension
Rafe x ¡Maybank!Reader
Rafe Cameron, gone soft for a Pouge—well, not just any Pouge, JJ fucking Maybanks sister. Y/N Maybank. She forgot her jacket at home, her brother who'd had already started flirting with a girl, didn't notice his sister shivering under the cold breeze, but Rafe did. He walked before he thought, taking long strides over to Y/N. "Hey, stupid. You forgot your jacket?" Rafe scoffs as you nod slowly, teeth chattering. "Have mine, and keep it." Rafe wraps his jacket around you, zipping it up, his fingers grazing along your sides.
"I know how to put on a jacket." You grumble out, annoyed that Rafe was treating you like you were disabled, when you were capable of doing it yourself.
"My jacket, my rules. And I decided to help you, wasn't sure if you knew how since you forgot yours at home, or 'sumin like that. Besides, it's cold out here. You're shivering." Rafe retorts, not looking the least bit fazed by your annoyance.
You can't help but feel a little warmth creeping into your cheeks. He's got a point. You're shivering like a madwoman. And he does have a really warm jacket. You let out a sigh, deciding to just go with it.
"Fine. Thanks for the jacket, I guess." You mumble, looking away. Rafe chuckles, and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Don't mention it. I'm just a nice guy like that." He winks, making you want to punch him.
The night passes by in a blur of music, dancing, and annoyingly cold air. You and Rafe end up spending most of it together, him teasing you mercilessly about your lack of dancing skills and your tendency to trip over nothing. You can't help but laugh though, feeling surprisingly comfortable around him despite his constant taunting.
As the party winds down, you find yourself standing near the edge of the yard, watching as the last stragglers file out of the house. Rafe appears at your side, nodding his head to the beat of an unheard song still playing inside. "You know, I could get used to hanging out with you like this, Maybank."
You glance over at him, noticing how his eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light. "Oh yeah? And what, just so I can be your personal dance partner?" You tease, pushing him playfully. He grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer.
"Maybe." He whispers, leaning in until his breath tickles your ear. "But also because I think we'd get along pretty well."
You shiver again, not from the cold this time. The way he's looking at you, like there's something more there... something you're not quite ready to face yet. "Maybe," you find yourself saying, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I still think you're a jerk most of the time."
Rafe laughs, leaning back to look at you. "Oh yeah? You love it when I'm a jerk." He teases, moving even closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. He whispers softly into your ear, nipping it softly "Maybe I should shove my cock down your throat to get you to shut up."
Your breath hitches, and your heart races. You're not sure if it's because of what he just said or the way he's looking at you. You try to think of something to say, but your mind goes blank. He senses your hesitation, and his grin widens. "It's okay, Y/N. You can tell me. You want me to fuck you, don't you?"—Truth be told, all Rafe wanted to do was fuck her senseless, to the point where she couldn’t say anything besides his name.
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rougecreator1 · 21 hours
Note
Heyy, can I ask you for a poly!plastics x reader where reader faints (maybe because of the heat or whatever) and the plastics be just the plastics (I mean, I’m Imagine Gretchen freaks out) ? Thank you so much
Heatwave ||
|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader
(i myself am poly)
|| Warnings: swearing, Regina being Regina, Reader fainting/going unconscious, heat exhaustion, hinted at anxiety
|| Summary: It's HOT. Regina is unaffected and makes them go outside for lunch, Reader faints from the heat and her girls (along with Ms. Norbury) take care of her.
Requests open!
Started: April 22nd
Finished: April 22nd
~~~
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Today was hot. You were in a simple tank top and shorts and you still felt like you were dying. Being in class was awful; everyone's body heat combined with the heat from outside. Absolutely sucked. Windows were open, but there wasn't much wind so you were sure it was just making things worse.
The bell finally went for lunch and you stood, feeling dizzy for a moment but you shook your head and walked to the cafeteria to meet up with your girlfriends.
When you got there, you noticed that they were also feeling the heat. Gretchen was in a crop top so cropped it may as well have just been a bra and she still looked like she was dying. Regina, somehow, remained unbothered and unsweaty. How she managed that you had no idea. Your guess? She was like Jade West from Victorious and didn't sweat because it was "gross". Karen had her head on the table, arms stretched out in front of her and in Gretchen's direction as they were sitting across from each other. Gretchen gave her a soft look and squeezed her hands.
You smiled a little watching the two and took a seat next to Regina.
"How are you so unbothered?" You asked, curiosity getting the better of you as you studied the blonde. She looked perfect as always. Not sweaty or anything like the rest of you.
"Because it's not a big deal?" Regina raised an eyebrow. She didn't see why everyone was being so dramatic about some heat.
"Come on, we're going out for lunch." Regina got up, all three of you groaned in protest but she shot you all a look that quieted you quickly.
Sharing a glance with Gretchen (who looked ready to cry at the thought of going outside) you both got up and helped Karen up, who really did not want to go out either, and followed after Regina. Practically dragging Karen behind you.
When you got outside, you felt the sun hit your skin almost immediately. It made your head feel dizzy. As you walked down the steps, keeping one arm around Karen while Gretchen held her other side, you stumbled forwards. Gretchen gasped which got Regina's attention and she turned around, catching you before you could stumble to the bottom of the steps. Luckily she hadn't been too far ahead from the three of you so she could react fast. Plus, not being bothered by the heat also helped her reaction time.
"Oh my God! Y/N!" Gretchen was freaking out, it didn't help that she had to watch as your eyes closed.
Regina's eyes widened a little and she forced herself not to (at least outwardly) panic. Internally she was a mess, though. Could you blame her. You just passed out in her arms.
"Gretchen!" Regina snapped, looking at Gretchen who immediately stopped. Her chest rising and falling quickly while her arms remained around Karen, whose eyes were wide as she silently panicked. Feeling frozen in place," Get Ms. Norbury."
Ms. Norbury was the first teacher that came to Regina's mind. Why? She doesn't know. She just seemed like the right choice.
Gretchen pulled Karen along back inside while Regina had you sit down on the steps, sitting with you as she gently laid your body across her lap. Sighing deeply at the sight of you.
Your cheeks were red, hell not just your cheeks. Your whole face was red. Sweat dripped from your hair and you looked a sickly pale. The sight made Regina nervous. She touched the back of her hand to your cheek and noticed just how burning hot you were.
"Shit." Regina muttered under her breath, scanning the area for anything that could help.
She spotted a shady tree, only problem was a bunch of people were chilling under there. She scowled and stood, picking you up and carrying you over her shoulder. She struggled slightly, but managed to find a comfortable position with it and kept her balance as she marched up to the group. Eyes furrowed with an intense gaze.
They immediately noticed Regina and panicked, scrambling off in different directions. Regina smirked and set you down in the grass, leaning your back against the tree.
She looked down at you, arms folded across her chest," Come on, baby..."
As if hearing her, you slowly started to come to. Struggling to open your eyes. When you got them open, you lifted your gaze to Regina.
"There's my pretty girl." Regina whispered, bending down so she was eye level with you as her hand rested to your cheek. You leaned into her touch," You okay, baby?"
"Hot." You mumbled, not having the energy to speak in full sentences.
"Yes, I know you are." Regina couldn't help but tease, you huffed and your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red than they already were. Regina laughed a little and sat next to you, wishing she had some water or something she could give you.
She took out her phone and texted the group chat all four of you share.
|| Regina: one of you fill a cup of water.
You got the notification, but you didn't have the energy to check. Regina looked back at you and kissed your cheek softly.
"Just rest here, Gretchen and Karen have gone to get Ms. Norbury." Regina informs you.
You give her a small nod in response.
You guys didn't have to wait much longer. A few minutes pass and the doors open, Ms. Norbury walks out and scans the area before her eyes land on you and Regina. She walks over, Gretchen and Karen following behind. Karen holding the cup of water. Gretchen had gotten it, but Karen insisted on being the one to take it to you.
Ms. Norbury bent down to your level as Karen handed you the cup, giving you a smile. You took it gratefully and took a long drink before pouring the rest on your head.
Some of it splashed onto Regina, making the blonde quickly stand away and groan in frustration.
"Heads up next time." She huffed at you, you fought the urge to laugh.
Ms. Norbury sighed and did a once over," How do you feel?"
You turned your head to Ms. Norbury and shrugged a little," Not as bad now that I've had water."
Ms. Norbury nods," Let's bring you inside where it's cooler. You can go to the teacher's lounge, there's a fan there you can cool down with. Come on, up you get."
You started getting up, Gretchen came to your aide and linked her arm with yours. Helping to keep you steady. You were sure you could have managed on your own, but you could tell Gretchen was really worried about you. So you let her help you out and whispered a thank you to her.
Gretchen guided you inside, a still annoyed Regina followed with Karen attempting to dab up some of the water on Regina with the bottom of her shirt. Regina narrowed her eyes at her but didn't make a move to stop her.
Ms. Norbury walked with you and Gretchen, in case something happened she wanted to be close to you so she could react faster.
You'd spend the rest of the day in the teacher's lounge, staying away from heat while your girlfriends took care of you.
You felt better by finale period bell.
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cherrycrushes · 3 days
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can you please write more for benedict ?? i love the one you did about his muse !!! (no pressure obvs <33)
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a dream with an artist - oneshot
b. bridgerton x reader.
a/n: yess tysm! also this is based off the faye webster song called a dream with a baseball player :)
sitting on a chaise, you were surrounded by the warmth of the sunlight. it was slowly turning into the evening. you were reading a book, with benedict's head on your lap. stroking his hair softly as you read the words on the page out loud. his soft snores echoing in the drawing room.
his hands that were now fallen, were occupied with his sketch book and quill. he had dozed off while sketching items in the room to your voice.
"lady y/n! lady y/n!"
and you woke up. sitting up, you saw your lady's maid standing at the entrance of your door.
"well good morning to you as well, miss. clark," you yawned and stretched. "what ever seems to be the problem?"
"miss y/n, pardon my intrusion, but your grandmother has passed this morning," miss. clark bows deeply. you could feel your heart shatter.
as the daughter of a marquis, your family has lots of power. power that could be taken advantage of. you knew because of your grandmothers death that many men would console you in an attempt to rise the ranks. though you knew you had your eyes set on a certain bridgerton, you had to be careful.
miss clark raises from her bow at her silence, and passes you the letter. opened, which you presume was because of your mother, and you could see the stamp of black wax on the end of it.
the letter described that your grandmother had passed in her sleep, discovered by one of her servants. it was expected of your family to be at her funeral in a churchyard. her wishes are to be surrounded by her family and other family friends.
off you were, facing your mother and father on the other side of a carriage. dressed in black italian gauze over a white slip, black gloves reaching until your elbow, you looked out the window. the drive was quiet, as your father acted as stoic as ever and your mother itching to say something. she tapped her finger rapidly on her knee, as if to muster up courage.
"you know, dearest, the bridgertons may be there," she said awkwardly.
you raised an eyebrow at her. it would make sense that they would- your mother and dowager viscountess bridgerton being close friends. you wish you could say the same to her children. the only way you've interacted with any of them is with benedict in your dreams.
"that's interesting, mother," you tried to dismiss.
usually when mourning, you didn't like to talk. a bit overcome with sadness. it would be easy for you to avoid people at the funeral, being known as mysterious to the ton. the carriage arrived at the church as your parents exited first. you walked up, hearing whispers about you as you did.
as the society mourning continued, you had spaced out the entire time. the reception was over before you knew it, and you were at your mothers side to accept any prayers.
the bridgerton family were over, giving their thoughts and prayers. while you weren't paying attention, you finally looked up from the ground. only to make eye contact with the second oldest bridgerton. you two shared the moment, as if telling each other to meet later and talk.
so you did, after the amount of families you have talked to. you were at a table, enjoying the sights of finger food and eavesdropping. you turned around as someone cleared his throat behind you.
"lady y/n pemberton," benedict announced. "good to see you."
he took your hand and pressed a kiss against it, causing a faint heat creep up on your cheeks.
"a pleasure to see you as well, mr. bridgerton," you replied, clearing your throat. "thank you for your prayers earlier."
realizing your mistake, you had tried to correct yourself.
"and your families' as well! it was sweet," you scrambled.
he chuckled lightly at your response. "no problem. i hope everything goes well in mourning of course?"
to this you simply nod. wanting to melt away in the crowd due to your embarrassment.
he bid his farewells, which you returned. red on your face increasing.
how did you fall in love with someone you didn't know?
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roxygen22 · 23 hours
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Timothee sickfic but you chose whatever sickness
With Female reader plz
Since I just posted a Timothée/Laurie sickfic yesterday, I switched to a sick reader instead.
Stay With Me
C/W: fever, fainting, hospitals
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I heard a muffled voice as I came to, like I was underwater. When did I fall asleep? I felt someone shaking my shoulders.
"[incoherent mumbling]...[y/n]...[Y/N]!" The voice became clearer. Timothée's voice. "There you are. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me," I heard him say in a panic. I felt him kiss my forehead. "Oh f*ck, you're burning up."
I blinked and looked around, confused. Why am I in my bedroom floor? When did Timothée get here? I saw the outline of Timothée's form, but I couldn't focus on it. I only knew it was him by the sound of his voice. It sounded like he was calling someone. I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop my eyelids from closing again...so tired...
The next time I woke, I heard the distinct sound of a heart rate monitor. I could smell noxious aroma of disinfectant. Am I in the hospital? Why am I here? The beeping intensified as I became more cognizant - and fearful - of my surroundings. It took a lot of effort to finally get my eyes open. All I could see at first was the harsh fluorescent light above me.
Once I could focus, I looked over and spotted Timothée's head on the bed. His frame was slumped over from his seat next to me. His hand held mine as he slept using his forearm as a pillow. He jumped up from his seat when he felt me stir. I saw the look of sheer relief on his face when he locked eyes with me.
"Oh, [Y/N], baby, you're awake! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Timothée sandwiched my hand between his and kissed it repeatedly. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"What-" I tried to ask what happened, but my throat was too dry to make more than a raspy sound.
"Shh, shhh, don't strain your voice. Here, let's get you some water." He used one hand to support my head and the other to hold the cup as I took tiny sips from the straw. It felt like I hadn't drank anything in days.
"What happened?" I finally managed to get the words out.
"You didn't answer the door when I came by to pick you up for dinner. I got worried because I hadn't heard from you since we exchanged texts that morning, so I used my key to get in. I found you passed out in your bedroom floor. I have no idea how long you were like that. You-" his voice cracked. "You weren't responsive when I tried to wake you up. When you came to, it wasn't for long. You were feverish, too. I got scared and called 911. They brought you to the hospital."
"Do they know what's wrong with me? How long have I been here?" I had so many questions, but that was all I could muster.
"You've been in and out of consciousness for two days. But even when you were awake, you weren't lucid. They ran tests - you contracted West Nile Virus."
"Two days?! Have YOU been here for two days?" You dropped your head to the pillow. "All of those mosquito bites from the photography walk."
Timothée nodded. "That's what tipped them off to check for WNV first. They asked me about your travel history and habits. They wanted me to stay in the waiting room until they confirmed you didn't have anything contagious, but they relented if I agreed to mask and glove up after I kept bugging the nurses for updates. I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"You hate hospitals," I whimpered.
He half-smiled. "Not as much as I hated the thought of you being alone and scared." He kissed my hand again.
Timothée stayed with me until I was discharged days later, only leaving long enough to go shower and grab some clothes for both of us. He drove me home and helped me to my apartment. He cleaned out my fridge of any expired foods and went shopping to restock it. He waited on me hand and foot and even tucked me into bed. When he acted like he was about to leave, I asked:
"Stay with me, Timmy. Please."
"Always," Timothée whispered as he settled under the covers next to me.
<><><><><>
Masterlist
Tag List:
@croatianprincess
@bluizh
@jindongdongie
@groovyqueer
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0san-ta0 · 2 days
Text
I Wish to Forget About You| g. clarkey
synopsis ★ george and y/n break up because of conflicting life paths but your heart just can't let the memories go.
pairing ★ fem!reader x george clarkey
author's notes ★ I hope you're having an amazing day/night! an impromptu fic cause I was in my feelings!! hope you enjoy!! <3
life with him was just perfect. he was everything you could ever want or need in a man. smart, kind, attentive, loving, patient, funny and the list could go on forever. waking up next to him every morning felt like heaven and you thanked your lucky stars everytime your eyes laid on his sleeping figure. how he would make you breakfast every morning no matter how packed his schedule was and you would return the favour by making sure when he got home he had a home cooked meal waiting for him. your nightly routine of laying in the couch together whilst he ranted about his day with your fingers raking through his hair and he urged for you to tell him about yours. the numerous odd gifts you received from his travels with his friends which made him think of you. your apartment had become a statement of your love for each other, his hoodies where draped everywhere, his shoes near the door and the gaming system near your TV along with the numerous bits and bobs from his travels. you changed so much for him, for yourself, all because you saw the man you would spend the rest of your life with.
if only you knew, how horribly it would all end and leave you feeling as if there was nothing left for you. it started off with small things, he began staying out more due to the new people he was meeting or when started getting more opportunities to go abroad and experience new things and make new connections. sadly, you had your own life with content that needed to be made and people to meet, so were you supposed to stop for him, to get to spend more time with your boyfriend? the small things started to grow as he started to appear around your apartment less and you could count on your hand the last time he stepped foot inside. you made an effort to text him on his trips, call and just make sure he new you loved him and missed his presence. but, as time wore on the replies got shorter and shorter before it started to become a short 'k' or 'ok'. you loved him. you couldn't even begin to fathom stopping him from accomplishing his dreams because you felt lonely.
you never imagined the day would come that you would sit alone in your apartment, clutching his hoodie's to your chest with sobs racking your body. never in a million years would you have thought that you would lay here feeling the cold wood underneath your cheek as you tried to convince yourself that he still loved you. that maybe he just hadn't seen you 20 texts and 12 calls or that he didn't have time. when did he start not having time for you? earlier after another week of not seeing george you tried to text him to come over to your apartment to talk. you tried calling, you tried texting again, then calling and then texting again until it became utterly apparent that he wasn't going to answer. you felt defeated, deciding that maybe you could clean up to pass the time before he answered. which led you to picking up his hoodie which was draped across your couch from the last time he was over. you brought it up to your nose to take in his scent stupidly, and it broke the seal on your emotions which resulted in you dragging yourself to floor tears spilling from your eyes.
two hours later you had recovered as best you could, eyes still puffy and red whilst your throat felt raw and you didn't even want to get started on your face. you lay on the couch, the tv providing you with ambient noise to distract you from your thoughts that threatened to consume you. the sound of keys clinking together came from outside the door along with the familiar voice of your 'boyfriend' as the door swung open.
"y/n?" george called softly, all the lights in your apartment were off except for the faint television glow.
he walked inside locking the door behind him and moving towards the sound of the television. his eyes came to fall on your figure curled up on the couch with a pillow stuffed in your arms. he smiles softly walking around the edge and moving to sit next to you. you sit up and stare at him, at this point you didn't have the energy to do anything else.
"where were you?" you asked, your voice came out barely above a whisper. your eyes glanced over him, in the pale light you could see he was dressed nicely. a black button down shirt and some jeans, with that same stupid smile on his face. he seemed to be doing well whilst you were stuck in here bawling your eyes out about him. honestly the thought made you angry but you couldn't find the strength to let it bubble to the surface.
he raises his eyebrows in surprise, "what do you mean? I told you that the sidemen invited me to go out with them to celebrate the shoot?"
you smile, a small giggle escaped your lips as you started into his eyes. "george, sweetheart are you sure you told ME that?" you made sure to emphasize the 'me' because to the best of your knowledge you hadn't spoken to this man in days.
"of course I told you about it. I told you about when the they brought it up on Monday."
you stared at him incredulously, "George you mean the same Monday that you were in a whole other country filming with chip? the same Monday which marked the third day which you didn't even read my messages? the same fucking Monday which I stayed up until 3 in the morning to catch you when you weren't filming in hopes that you would respond to me with atleast a hello." by this point your voice was getting higher and higher as your anger came to the surface.
he shook his head, "you knew that we were extra busy with those videos. when would I have time to text you back? when I was literally driving in the country side in a three wheeled vehicle?"
you could tell that he was starting to get annoyed, in your mind he had no reason to be annoyed because whilst he was out partying his life away you were here. sitting alone questioning why you were even still together, why you were putting yourself through this and supposedly dragging him down with you.
"look I asked you here because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to ask you if you still wanted this." she gestured between the two of you.
"if you still wanted us. and before you open you open your mouth and try to say anything I want to say my piece."
you held your hand up and took a breath, "george over the last few months you've been distant and cold and I've tried so many times to try and talk to you. I've tried to tell you how I felt but every single time you have something new going on or you're to tired or any of your mirage of excuses. and now I'm fucking tired of crying myself to sleep hoping that somewhere in your heeart you still love me and you still care about me. I'm tired of praying that you'll come home, that you'll answer my God damned calls. I'm tired of struggling and I think we should take a break."
he stared at you mouth agape for a few moments, he reached his hand over to take yours. you pulled away and scooted back to put more distance between the two of you.
"please y/n! you need to rethink this, I need you." he whispers, leaning towards you.
you stood up from the ccouch, walking toward your bedroom, "i've spent weeks thinking about this, about us and I don't want us to end but you genuinely hurt me. even if I don't want us to end I cant keep living like this, the constant sadness and fear isn't good for me."
you reached a hand to wipe your cheeks as your tears had started to fall again. "I know its late, you can sleep on the couch for tonight and tomorrow you can gather your things and go home. As much as it hurts me, staying with you like this is even worse."
with that you turned on your heel and walked into your bedroom closing the door behind you softly before throwing yourself onto you bed to begin sobbing again.
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Text
Portugal Pretenders
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Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader
Warnings: fake dating, the boys love to tease virg, past players make an appearance, takes place at robbo's wedding (I just made up random dates, forgive me if it's not accurate lmao), begging for a favour, wedding softness, some teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a few awkward moments, julia and thiago are their biggest fans, some nsfw humour, virg doesn't know how to use an iron, some childishness at the end, all around sweetness.
Word Count: 7.9k
Author's Note: okay, I've come back to bring you all a new virg fic, since you've been living in my inbox, asking for it. hopefully you like it as much as I do.
---
"And this one's for you," Andy says, passing the light green envelope over to Virgil, catching his friend on his way out. "You've got a plus one, make sure you bring that girlfriend of yours you're always talking about."
Virgil nods, a smile on his face as he takes the invite from Andy. The panic fills his head, slowly moving down to his chest as he walks out of the training centre.
Andy's wedding was coming up in a few weeks. The boys have known about it for months, and as much as Andy insisted to Rachel that they don't need actual invites, she still sent them with her husband to be.
The defender finds himself driving home, thinking about how on earth he was going to find someone to join him at this wedding.
See, the thing was, the boys thought he was seeing something. That wasn't a total lie, as he was seeing someone but it ended as quickly as it started. He wasn't sure how to tell his friends that it was over and it spiralled, coming up with random details to tell them every time they asked about this non-existent girlfriend.
He didn't think Andy would go as far as giving him a plus one.
Virgil pulls into the driveway, opening the envelope as he reads the invite.
Celebrating the marriage of Andy Robertson and Rachel Roberts.
Rehearsal Dinner: July 2nd, 2022 at 7pm
Wedding Ceremony: July 3rd, 2022 at 3pm - Evening Reception to follow.
Join us in Faro, Portugal!
The rest of the details were on the back of the card, the invite was white with green accents to match the envelope. Must be their theme, he thinks, making a mental note to see if he has anything green to match.
He gets out of the car, putting the envelope in his pocket when he sees his neighbour, y/n, pulling into her driveway. He waves to her, the woman smiles at him as she pops her trunk open, a million bags waiting to be taken into the house.
"Need some help?" He offers, crossing the lawn to her driveway.
You smile, nodding. "Sure. Thank you, Virgil."
Virgil starts taking the bags out of the trunk, carrying them over to the front door as you unlock it. "I'm surprised you're home so early." He says.
"Keeping tabs on me?"
"No," he shakes his head, cheeks red. "I meant.. I usually see you come in late."
"Closed the clinic early today, we've got a staff party tomorrow, hence.." You gestured to the bags. Virgil nods, helping her carry them into her kitchen.
The two of you were on friendly terms, Virgil often helped you out around the house if you were busy. Despite being a footballer, he tended to take care of the yard work and you stopped by to make sure were in order at his place if he was away for a match or pre season training.
"How about a cup of tea?" You offered and he smiled, "you sure? I don't want to be a bother."
"Not a bother at all, make yourself at home. It's the least I could do to thank you for your help."
"It wasn't much help, I only carried the bags to the kitchen." He chuckles, sitting on a stool by the counter.
You shrugged, "still. It would have taken me like, 12 trips to get all of them, you used your big footballer muscles and did it in one."
Virgil smiles, watching as you filled the kettle with water and took two mugs out of the cupboard across from him; one with little flowers along the rim of it and the other a red mug Liverpool logo on the front.
"Surprised you have that," he says, you drop the teabags into the mug. "What? This?" You nodded to the red mug. "It'd just be wrong not to support the local team." You two laughed, you referred to Liverpool as if it was a rec league team.
You two are there in silence, you leaned on the counter as you stood across from the footballer. The man looked around while you looked at him, counting to yourself quietly. Once Virgil hears your whispers, he looks over at you with furrowed brows.
"What are you counting?"
"Your wrinkles," you say nonchalantly, pointing to his forehead as you count each one. Virgil rolls his eyes playfully, swatting your hand away. "You okay?"
He nods. "Yeah."
"You sure? I mean, you usually can't see the wrinkles on that big forehead on yours. So unless you've aged drastically since I've last seen you, I'd say you're worried about something."
"Is that your official diagnosis, Dr. L/n?"
"Yup," you nodded, smiling at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. "100%, now tell me, what's on your mind?"
"Well," he sighs as he starts. "I was invited to a wedding today."
"And? Is it for an ex or some cousin you hate?"
"No, nothing like that. It's actually Andy, you know, Robbo?"
You nodded, shutting the stove off when the kettle begans whistling. "He finally put a ring on Rachel? Good for them, tell them congratulations for me."
Virgil smiles, "I will."
"Wait, so if it's for Andy, what's the problem? I thought you two were good friends."
Virgil makes a face, wondering if he should really tell you what's bothering him. "We are, I uh.. I need a date for a wedding."
You laughed, "that's what's worrying you? C'mon Virgil, you're a footballer. You're handsome, you're young..ish- regardless, it shouldn't be too hard for you to get a date."
He rolls his eyes at your comment, "yeah well, easier said than done. Especially since I've - never mind."
"Oh no," you turn to face him after pouring the water into the mugs. "You're not going to leave me hanging like that! What, since you've..?
"Since I've been telling the guys I have a girlfriend. That's why Andy gave me a plus one, I really thought he wouldn't do that."
Your brows furrowed, you were beyond confused now. "Okay, you've officially lost me. You're nervous to ask her to be your date? Or - oh my god! Is she a married woman, Virgil?!"
"No!" He laughed, shaking his head at your outrageous suggestion. "I'd never date a married woman, in fact, I'm not dating anyone."
You were getting the milk from the fridge when what he said finally processed. You turn to face the man, "so wait, let me see if I got this right. You've been telling them you're seeing someone but you're not actually seeing anyone?" You say, looking for some clarification. Virgil nods, avoiding your gaze.
"Why would you lie to them?"
"I really didn't mean too! It wasn't a lie in the beginning. I was seeing this girl, she was cool but we didn't want the same things so it just sort of.. ended? They kept asking and I don't know why I didn't want to tell them the truth but I wasn't sure what to say so I played along and now, well, you know where I've ended up."
You sigh, unsure what to tell him. You didn't even think there was advice to help someone who's gotten themselves into such a position.
"That's a messed up thing you're in, dude." You added the milk to his mug, handing him the one with the flowers. Virgil nods, stirring the spoon in the mug.
"Do you have sugar?"
"Mhm hm," you turned, reaching up into the cupboard to get the sugar from the middle shelf.
Virgil watched, admiring you; not only on a surface level but deeper than that. He likes spending time with you, even if it was something as simple as a chat across the lawn. You were beautiful and kind, funny and smart, your humour was witty and you were charming. You could talk yourself out of a crime if need be - you were exactly who he was looking for.
Seems his lies have sent him in your direction; imagine if he hadn't helped you take your bags in today.
You turned to him with the sugar, you could feel him staring at you but he was sitting there, elbow on the counter with his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he smiled at you.
"What?"
"Will you be my date to the wedding?" He asks and you laugh, taking the top off the sugar jar.
"You're not serious."
"I am, what are you doing in 3 weeks?"
"Probably work, but I can't be your date, virgil."
He pouts, much like a child when they're told no. "Why not?"
"How would that work?"
"It's fine, I'll handle everything y/n. You just need to pack your bags and get the time off work. Hotels, flights, everything we need there, I'll take care of."
"Wait, the wedding isn't here?"
"Portugal," he says, doesn't miss the slight raise of your eyebrows.
"I've always said I'd go back to Portugal, even if it's just for a short time."
"See," Virgil says, "it's like my lying led us here, this can be a good thing for both of us. I'll have a girlfriend for the weekend and you get to visit Portugal again."
You can't help but laugh at his justification. "Please," he says, "I'm begging you now. I'll own you big time." His hands clasped together under his chin as he looked at you with big, brown, puppy eyes.
"Like season passes to your box at Anfield big time?" You asked, a raised eyebrow. Virgil laughs, nodding. "Exactly like that."
"You've got a deal then." You tell him, he smiles. "Perfect, I can't thank you enough."
"Mhm hm, now drink your tea before it gets cold."
--
The week of the wedding arrives faster than expected, you had been in prep mode all week; getting your hair and nails done, trying to pack whatever you think you'd need for a wedding.
A celebrity's wedding isn't different from a normal one, is it? Is that what a footballer is? A celebrity ? Can you call it a celebrity wedding- Your thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.
It's Virgil, a big smile on his face despite it being 8am. "Why are you so happy?" You asked upon opening the door.
"Oh, good morning to you too, sunshine. Are you ready to go?" He makes a face, chuckling. He starts carrying your luggage out of the house as you make one last walk through, assuming you had everything and things were in place for the few days you'd be away.
"Yup, all set." You notice he was putting your suitcase into his car. "You're driving?"
"Yeah, I figured it'd be faster than an Uber."
"We've got," you glanced at your phone, "4 hours before our flight."
"I know, it's fine." He waves you off, shutting the trunk before opening the passenger side door for you. You lock up and walk over the lawn to his driveway, getting into the car.
It was a short drive to the airport, the music played quietly and Virgil hummed as he drove. He glances over to see you typing away on your phone. "Who are you texting so early?"
"Playing the possessive boyfriend already, Virgil?" A raised eyebrow as you looked at the man. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head. "I'm kidding," you rested a hand on his knee. He looks down and you move your hand. "I was just replying to some work stuff, I've never left them for so long."
"It's only 3 days, they'll be fine. Plus, don't they know you're on vacation?"
"Not really," you set the phone on your lap, "I told them I had some family stuff, couldn't exactly explain that Virgil Van Dijk was asking me- no, begging me, to be his fake wedding date."
"Technically," he points a finger at you, "it's a real wedding date, you're just my fake girlfriend."
"Technicalities, Virgil."
He laughs, pulling into the parking lot. The two of you head into the airport and after checking in, the woman sends the two of you down a hallway that seemed like a dead end.
You didn't travel often but you knew this seemed.. sketchy to say the least.
"Where are we going?" You asked Virgil, the man opens the door for you and leads you right onto the tarmac. There's a plane a few feet away and you turn to look at him, dot connecting in your head. "Private?" You asked him another question.
He nods, "figured I'd spoil my girlfriend," he jokes, smiling at you as you two walked over to the plane.
You sat across from Virgil, checking your phone for the millionth time since you've left home. "You know, they won't be able to reach you when we're in the air, I'm sure they'll be fine."
"I know," you switched it off and set it down before the plane took off.
The two of you were eating breakfast, a rather large spread for being in the air and considering the flight was barely 3 hours.
"So," you set the fork down on the plate, "get me the details, who's gonna be at the wedding?"
Virgil takes a sip of his coffee, "well, Andy and Rachel obviously."
"Obviously," you chuckled.
"Thiago, Jordan, Millie, Adam and their wives, Ox and his girlfriend, us and then Trent."
"What, Trent doesn't get a plus one?"
He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. Plus he's in the states, he said he's coming but we have to see."
You nod, the two of you chat a bit more. Virgil updates you on a few matches, how they think they're going to do, what it's like being captain. You tell him how the clinic is doing, how you're liking it so far compared to when you used to work at the hospital. Just small details that might come up in a conversation with his teammates.
Once you landed, Virgil collected your luggage and you were off to the hotel. It was a short walk to the venue from the hotel, the two of you put your stuff away and decided to go for a walk, grabbing a coffee before heading back to the hotel.
The rehearsal dinner was in a few hours, giving you two more than enough time to get ready. "We need to get our story straight," he says to you when you come in from the balcony.
"What story ?"
"Our outfits," he says with total seriousness, "what are you wearing tonight?"
You shook your head with a small smile on your face, taking the two dresses out of the wardrobe to show him; a light blue dress with a halter top, the small white flowers going from the waist to the bottom hem and the other was a burnt orange that was backless.
"I figured the blue was a bit more family friendly, classy enough without being too dressy," you hold it up to yourself to show him. He nods, "yeah, good. It's pretty."
You hung it back in the wardrobe before turning to him. "What are you going to wear?"
"We need to match." He was already searching through his suitcase for the shirt to match your dress. "Do we really need to?" You sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him.
He nods, pulling out the baby blue shirt. "This is close enough, no?"
"Yeah, but why does it look like you've had it rolled up in the bottom of a box for like.. 4 years?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the state of it. Virgil shakes the shirt, trying to rid it of the permanent wrinkles. "Do you not have an iron, Virgil?"
"I do, but uh, I forgot to iron it."
You shook your head, getting up to search for the iron you knew you saw. You find it in the drawer in the wardrobe, handing it to him. Virgil spreads the shirt on the bed, plugging the iron in before fiddling with the settings. He looks between the iron, the shirt and you, a bit clueless before attempting to iron the shirt.
He works on the sleeve, making it worse than it was before, you watch as he helplessly works at the shirt. You figured maybe you were making him nervous in some weird way so you excused yourself to the bathroom to unpack your makeup and hair stuff.
When you came back, 7 minutes later, he was still working on the same sleeve. Your lips pressed together, arms folded over your chest as you watched.
"What?" He asked, glancing at you.
"You're terrible at that. Do you not know how to iron?"
He sighs, "it's been years since I've had to do it, I usually just get my stuff dry cleaned."
You smiled as you walked over, taking the iron from him and putting him out of his misery. "If I leave you to iron this, you might take the whole 3 hours to finish it. Why don't you go shower or whatever you need to do, I'll do it for you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go. Before you ruin the shirt," you shook your head, switching the setting from wool to cotton. You wondered how he ended up on wool to begin with. "Thank you," he smiles, walking into the bathroom.
While he showers, you finish up on his shirt and hang it on a hanger in the wardrobe. You also looked for his pants, ironing the 3 pairs of dress pants he had brought as you didn't know which one he'd be wearing.
Virgil returns to the room post shower, white towel wrapped around him that sat right below his hips, and you had just shut the wardrobe after hanging up his pants. You turn to find him behind you, your eyes fixed on the man; the water dripping down his chest, down to his stomach and it stops at the towel wrapped around his waist.
"You're staring, y/n." He says, you can hear the smirk on his face before your eyes meet his face.
It's not like you've never seen him shirtless before, he used the pool in his yard quite often, not to mention the glimpse of him you catch in the media or what the Liverpool account posts.
Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before speaking. "I uh, I ironed your pants as well, I wasn't sure which ones you were gonna wear so I ironed all of them."
He smiles, "thanks."
You nod, excusing yourself to the bathroom to shower. You shut the door, back pressed to it for a moment before going about your routine. You weren't sure how long you were in there but you had showered, done your hair and you were mid way through your makeup when there was a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" Virgil calls from the other side of the door. "I need to fix my hair." He says and you open the door for him, concealer all over your face, hair pinned up with the robe wrapped around you.
He smiles when he sees you; you look so.. well, beautiful but there was something else, a domesticity of sorts. The two of you getting ready in the same bathroom, there's some intimate in the way you were seeing each other right now. Moving in silence as you both did your own thing beside one another.
You break the silence, "how did we meet?"
"We're neighbours..?" His eyes meet yours in the mirror, confusion all over his face.
"I mean if they ask, your teammates. What did you tell them?"
"Oh," he says, wrapping the hair tie around his hair. "I told them we met through mutual friends, my friend, Kevin. His wife knows you and we were all at the same party and we hit it off from there."
You hum, finishing up on your makeup. You were searching for your lipstick, "and how long have we been together?" You find the one you were looking for.
"Almost a year. If my math is right, it should be like.. 10 months?"
The lipstick in your hand, you look at Virgil with a shocked look on your face. "You've been lying to them for almost a year? How the hell did you manage that?"
His lips pressed together then he shrugs, which makes you laugh. "Okay," you nod, "almost a year it is." You turn back to the mirror, applying your lipstick.
Virgil watches as you do it, your hands steady while you go over your lips, pressing them together to make the colour even. "What do we think?" You asked, turning to him when you notice he's watching.
"Beautiful," he smiles, "truly."
"So cheesy," you chuckled, walking out of the bathroom to change into your dress.
The two of you head down to the venue a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to meet his teammates at the rehearsal dinner.
Before you walked in, Virgil grabbed your hand which caught you off guard. Your fingers interlocked with his and it took you a moment to realize why he did that; the two of you were a couple, of course.
It was already full in there, most of their family had already arrived and a few friends were scattered through the venue. You see a few of his teammates but Virgil leads you to the front, tapping Andy on the shoulder.
"Virg!" Andy smiles, pulling Virgil into a hug. "You made it," he steps back and sees you next to the man, his grin only widening. "You must be the famous girlfriend we hear about all the time."
"That would be me," you smiled, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too, this is Rachel, bride to be." He introduces you to his fiancee. You smiled at her, the two of you exchanging niceties.
"It's nice of you to make it, Andy was saying how he was certain Virgil wouldn't be bringing you." Rachel says, her arm interlocked with Andy's.
"Well to be fair, Virg seemed a bit nervous to ask me to come but I wouldn't miss it for the world. I don't think I've said it but congratulations."
Virgil's heart skips a beat, it wasn't out of ordinary that someone called him Virg, but you've never had. You always called him Virgil, so to hear the nickname come out of your mouth, make him rather.. soft.
"It's my fault," Andy starts, "we did tell Virg to bring you around before but he always said you were busy with work. So I think it's fair of me to think you were fake."
You laughed, "I can assure you I'm alive and real, feel free to pinch me to confirm." Andy laughed at your comment, smiling at his teammate in approval of you. Virgil returns the smile.
"Anyways, make yourselves comfortable, we're going to start the rehearsal soon." Rachel tells the two of you, leading Andy off to greet someone else.
Virgil's hand rests on your lower back, the two of you sitting towards the middle of the chairs, watching as they went through the rehearsal. It was mostly family, his teammates were only there so they could all mingle and catch up as they had been on break for a few weeks at this point.
At some point after they were done the run through, Virgil suggested drinks and you followed him to the bar, his hand once again on your lower back.
"Virg!" You hear someone call for him, the two of you turning at the same time to see who was coming his way. Both Jordan and Millie were making their way over to the two of you.
"Hey," Virgil smiles at his teammates. "Guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend. This is Jordan and James."
You smiled at the men, "it's nice to meet you both."
"We thought you weren't coming," Millie says and Jordan follows up with a, "it's nice to meet you, we thought you weren't real."
"That seems to be the general consensus tonight," you laughed.
Ox makes his way over to the bar, seeing his teammate with a woman he's never seen before. "You must be Virgil's girlfriend, I'm Ox." He introduces himself.
"I'm y/n, nice to meet you."
"I can't believe you're actually here."
You turn to Virgil, making a face at him. "Why do all your teammates think I'm not real?"
"He wouldn't show us pictures," Millie says, shrugging. "I guess that's true," you nudged Virgil, "between Virg's practices and games, and then with my work, we barely get time to see each other and when we do, we're not on our phones."
Jordan makes a face, looking between you and Virgil and you instantly know what he's thinking. "No!" You laughed, shaking your head. "That's so not what I meant."
"What is it that you do, y/n?" Ox pipes up.
"I'm a doctor, an OB actually."
"Oh wow," Ox smiles at his teammate. "She's good, you've got good taste, big man. I see why she hasn't been around."
You smile, your phone buzzing in your hand. You excuse yourself, walking away to take the phone call. You can hear the boys talking behind you, you glance over your shoulder and smile at Virgil, the man's heart skipping a beat. Despite you not being his actual girlfriend, it did feel good to get the approval from his teammates.
Virgil hadn't even realized how long he had been chatting with his teammates, he went in search of you and found you just outside, chatting with Julia, the two of you talking about their kids.
"There you are," Virgil says, walking down the steps towards you. You smile at him, "I see you've met Julia." He gives the woman a quick hug before standing beside you.
"Yeah," you smiled at her, "I'm mad at you, you know."
"What for?" His brows furrowed, looking at you. He's wondering what he could have possibly done.
"You've been hiding me from her, Julia and I are best friends now."
The blonde smiles at you, "yes we are. We've already made plans to get lunch when we get back to Liverpool. I can't believe you've never brought her around before, Virgil." She tells him, her voice similar to the one she uses when she scolded her children, and or Thiago, when they misbehave.
"Oh well, I'm sure y/n's told you about her hectic schedule. Blame her, not me. I do hope you two have fun at this lunch." He laughs, his arm over your shoulder.
The rest of the night was quiet, everyone caught up with each other with their summer plans and you met the rest of the players and their partners over the course of the night. Eventually you two decide to call it a night, heading back to the hotel.
You were by the door, taking your heels off when you saw Virgil stop in the middle of the room, in front of the bed.
"What's wrong?" You asked him, walking over. You seem to realize what he's thinking; there's only one bed.
Not like they've taken a bed out of the room while you were gone but you two had been too tired and too busy getting ready for the dinner that neither of you seemed to register that there was in fact, only one bed in the room.
It didn't occur to Virgil when booking the room that you'd need a separate bed, you weren't really a couple after all.
"I'll take the couch," you tell him, not wanting him to feel bad for his slight mess up.
He shook his head, turning to you. "No, it's fine. I'll take the couch, you take the bed."
You glance at the couch next to the window, it was spacious - that's if you were under 5 foot. There's no way he'd sleep comfortably if he did manage to fit on it.
"You know what, we're both adults. We'll sleep together." You tell him, his eyes widening at your words. "Not what I meant," you smack his arm. "We can both fit on the bed comfortably, no need for either of us to suffer on the couch."
"You're sure?" He asks and you nod, "of course, but hands to yourself mister." You pointed a finger to him, making him laugh.
Virgil raises his hands, "I swear I'll be on my best behaviour," he says, watching you walk into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
--
The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you from your sleep. You shut your eyes, trying to get a few more minutes but you can hear the shower running and then shuts off followed by the bathroom door opening. The smell of Virgil's body wash fills the room and you sit up, rubbing your eyes.
"Mornin' sunshine," he smiles at you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You yawn, stretching as you try to wake yourself up. "What time is it?"
"10:27," he looks at the clock, "how about some breakfast?"
"Yes please," you get out of bed, fixing the comforter as you walk to the bathroom. "Lots of coffee please," you smiled at him, shutting the door.
Virgil orders room service while you shower, you return to the room just as it arrives. The two of you sit on the couch, eating breakfast in comfortable silence. Virgil grabs his phone, "Andy sent over some pictures from last night," he shows you a few photos that the groom to be had sent.
"Those are cute, send them to me."
Your phone buzzes on the bed and you look over at the clock, "shit, I've got to do my hair." You set the cup down on the table and walk towards the bathroom. "Do you need the bathroom?"
"No, I'm good." he tells you, "do your thing."
You walk in and walk back out, leaning on the door frame. "What are you wearing today?"
He smiles, "don't worry, I ironed it and put it in the closet."
"Properly?" You asked, walking over to confirm.
"Yes," he shook his head, watching as you took the shirt out to confirm that he did in fact iron it properly. "Wow, good job. Big upgrade from yesterday."
"Watched a YouTube video," he says, making you laugh.
You leave Virgil in the room, off to shower and then to start on your makeup and hair as you weren't 100% sure what look you wanted to do. Virgil left you alone, letting you get ready in peace. He could hear the music playing, your humming accompanying the melody.
He thought to himself that it was something he could get used to, that his house would feel so quiet and empty without you humming.
The line between real and fake seemed to be getting blurred more and more as the time went by.
"Virg?" You called for the man, he got up from his spot on the couch. He had been ready for some time, you still had an hour before you needed to leave. "Yeah?"
"Can you zip me up?"
You stepped out of the bathroom, hair pulled over your shoulder with your dress on. He smiles, nodding as he walks over to you; the sage green dress hugged your body in the right places, it was as if the dress was made for you and only you.
Virgil's hand rests on your waist, the other holds the zipper and gives it a soft tug, pulling it up to the top. The hand holding the zipper now turns into fingers trailing down the curve of your spine, coming to rest on the other side of your hip. "There you go."
Turning around to face him, Virgil's hands remained on your hips. "Thank you," you look up. He nods, "you look.. wow."
You can't help but laugh, straightening his shirt. "You look pretty wow yourself."
Virgil lets go of you when you take a step back, walking to the vanity to put your jewelry on. It takes the two of you half an hour to gather the last minute things you needed, assuring you were ready before heading out for the ceremony.
It's a short walk to the venue, everyone was being ushered into the church to take their seats while the bridal party was lining up to walk in when you two arrived.
The weather was beautiful, the sun was out and the church was full with their families and friends; they couldn't ask for a better start to their wedding day.
The ceremony was short and sweet, Andy and Rachel exchanging vows and promises, everyone was beyond happy for them.
Most of the guests were now outside, the doors to the church open as everyone was heading out.
You stood next to Virgil by the stairs, letting him block the sun from your face as you checked your phone. You hear the footsteps before you hear the voice. "You're actually here, you're real?" The Scouse accent thick, Trent.
"I am real," you looked up, smiling at the man who looks like he's seen better days. "You must be Trent."
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Excuse me." He says, covering a yawn with his hand.
Before you two could speak, Andy was calling the two players over for a group photo. You stop Virgil, standing on your tiptoes to reach his collar, his hand on your hip you keep you steady as you fix it before sending him on his way; a small act of intimacy that you'd only find between a couple.
You had been checking your emails, something you knew Virgil would complain about if he caught you doing it yet again. You were so caught up that you hadn't noticed him calling your name. When you do, you look up, making a hand motion as to ask him what he wants. He waved you over, pointing to the spot in front of him. Your brows furrowed, still unsure what he wanted as the dots didn't seem to connect. Virgil realized as much, pointing towards the photographer and then back to the spot in front of him.
Only then did it click what he meant.
You head over, joining the other girlfriends and wives in the photo. Andy and Rachel were front and centre, the rest of you around them.
"Alright everyone, squeeze in a bit more please!" The photographer shouts, showing you all with his hands to move closer to each other.
Virgil moves you from beside him to in front of him, his arm over your shoulder and your hand instinctively reaches up, fingers interlocking with his.
The photographer gives everyone a moment to situate themselves, "perfect, alright everyone look here! Smile!"
A few moments later, you were all allowed to move. Andy and Rachel were off to take some more photos, there was only about 30 minutes before the reception which wasn't too far from the church.
Everyone makes their way over, waiting for the official entrance from Andy and Rachel as Mr and Mrs Robertson for the first time.
You were sat next to Virgil, Jordan and his wife, Rebecca, to the right of Virgil and Thiago and Julia to your left.
Andy and Rachel were having their first dance, the whole venue was quiet as you all watched the two of them, wrapped up in love and giggling as they whispered to each other mid dance.
You wiped the outer corner of your eye, blinking a few times in an attempt to save your makeup. Virgil turns slightly when he hears a small sniffle. He sees your watery eyes, smiling to himself and leans in to whisper to you; "are you crying?"
"Shut up," you whispered back, turning him back around with a small nudge. "Weddings make me emotional."
The evening was quiet, dinner consisted of everyone chatting, Andy and Rachel made the rounds to say hello to everyone who they didn't get a chance to talk to at the church. Eventually they reopened the bar and the dance floor, everyone started making their way around, mingling, drinking and dancing.
You were replying to a message when Virgil came over, two shot glasses in hand. He passes one to you, "to Andy and Rachel," he says, tapping his glass to you. The two of you down the shots, tequila, based on the after taste.
"Okay, let's go dance!"
"I don't dance, Virg."
"It's a wedding, you have to dance!" He takes your phone from you, putting it into his pocket and grabbing your hand. "Virg," you groaned, the man ignores your pleas and takes you to the dance floor, spinning you around.
Before you know it, the two of you are giggling and dancing, his arms over your shoulders as he hugs you from behind, swaying to the music.
"I'm gonna get a drink," you tell him and the man lets you go while nodding before shimmying his way over to Trent, who looks like he was about to fall asleep in his chair. You laughed, leaving Virgil to bother Trent as you walked to the bar.
You had barely made it to the bar when someone shouted for you. "Y/n!" You see Thiago off to the side, "can you take a picture for us?"
"Sure," you take the phone from him, he and Julia standing together, arms wrapped around each other as they smiled, then Thiago kissed her.
Sometimes you wonder what it'd be like if you had a stable and loving relationship like theirs.
"I thought you got lost!" Virgil says, walking towards you. You shook your head, handing the phone back over to Thiago. The Spaniard then turns, passing the phone to Virgil. "Okay now you come in, let him take the picture."
"Are you sure?" You asked, Thiago was already pulling you into the photo.
He nods, you and Julia on either side of him, the 3 of you smiling as Virgil takes the photo, the camera flashing. Thiago steps out, letting you and Julia have some together, his wife telling him something about they have enough pictures of them together. You laughed, the two of you smiling for the camera.
"Do you want one together?" Thiago looks at Virgil, who then looks at you and you shrug, waving him over. Virgil hands his phone to Thiago while Julia replaces him by her husband's side.
Virgil's arm over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, the two of you smiling while Virgil pulls you into his side. "Alright Virg, give your lady a kiss." Thiago says, smiling.
Your 'boyfriend's' cheeks are red, a flush he can blame on the Portuguese heat or the liquor but you know the real reason. "Come on man, what are you waiting for?!" Thiago says, laughing at Virgil's shyness.
"Leave them alone," Julia tells her husband, rolling her eyes at his childishness.
"It's fine," you whisper to Virgil, turning to him a bit. He looks at you, whispering back, "you sure?" You stood close, the air between you two charged with a mixture of tension and anticipation.
"Mhm hm," your hand rests on his chest while he leans down, you tip toe a bit, meeting him half way when he kisses you.
But as your hand found its way to Virgil's cheek and your lips met against each other's, something shifted. What was meant to be a quick moment blossomed into something real, something raw. When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, a shared realization dawned upon them.
The kiss may have been staged, but the feelings it stirred within were undeniably genuine.
As you glanced at each other, a silent understanding passed between you and Virgil. This fake relationship may have begun as a charade, but perhaps, just perhaps, it held the promise of something more.
Thiago grinned, "perfect. The picture of love," he says, handing the phone back to Virgil. You smiled, your own cheeks now flushed and red. You reached over, your thumb brushed over his lips to wipe away the lipstick left behind. Virgil's arm wraps around your shoulder, the two of you chatting as you join Thiago and Julia for a round of shots.
The night wrapped up just after midnight, everyone waiting at the front to wish Andy and Rachel well, seeing them off as they left before everyone else headed to wherever home was after that.
Virgil's jacket over your shoulders while you walked back to the hotel. Despite the humidity earlier in the day, there was now a slight chill in the air.
"Did you have a good time?" He asks, opening the door for you. "I did," you walk in, waiting for the elevator to your room. "Thank you for bringing me."
"Thank you for coming, you really saved my ass."
It hits you in the moment that this was in fact, fake. You were doing him a favour, you weren't a couple, you never will be. Just a good friend helping him out in a tough situation.
When you returned to the room, Virgil announced that he's gonna go take a shower while you got ready for bed. The two of you moved in silence, you sat at the vanity taking your makeup off while the sound of the water running filled the room. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't real yet again.
All the feelings felt over the weekend were just for show. Certainly Virgil didn't feel the same way you did.
The steam filled the bathroom, Virgil lets the water run as he stands there. The kiss was real, the moments you shared were real, his feelings for you were real.
How the hell was he used to bring it up without it being awkward?
The shower shut off just as you were about to get into bed. Your phone bus is on the nightstand, and you reach over to grab it. There's a notification from Instagram.
juliavigas tagged you in a post. - 2mins ago.
You opened it, checking to see what she posted. There's a few photos from the wedding. Some of her and Thiago, the venue, one of you and her, as well as the one with you, her and Thiago. She also included the one in front of the church, Virgil's arm wrapped around you as you all smiled.
Virgil finds his way to the bed, sitting next to you. "What's so interesting?"
"Julia posted some pictures," you show your phone, letting him scroll through the pictures. "I guess everyone will think we're together now." He looks at the one in front of the church before handing the phone back to you.
"Wasn't that the whole point?" You ask, setting your phone on the nightstand.
"I guess so," he shrugs, the two of you sitting there in silence, the tv playing quietly in the background. There's a million thoughts going through his head at this very moment.
As he looked over at you, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Virgil couldn't help but admire your beauty, the way your eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored a flickering flame. It was in shared moments like these that he felt a pull, a force pulling him closer, urging him to take that leap of faith. But as the silence went on, Virgil felt the weight of his hesitation, suffocating him with its embrace.
How could he confess his feelings when the fear of rejection spun around in his mind, an unwelcome shadow over his every thought?
He glances at you once more, your eyes meeting in a brief exchange, Virgil felt a sense of longing wash over him, a wave of emotion threatening to consume him whole.
Still, the words remained unspoken, trapped behind the barricade of his uncertainty.
He had to take the leap of faith, he wouldn't know if he didn't try.
"What are we?" He blurts out, breaking the silence.
You turn, looking at him with a confused expression. "What are.. what do you mean?"
"Well.. we.. we kissed, so like, are we.. what are we?"
"We're not in high school, Virg. A kiss is a kiss, no?"
His smile fades, your heart breaking the moment you see that. He nods, turning his attention back to the tv. "Yeah, no. Of course."
"I'm kidding," your hand rests over his on the bed, "if you're asking me if I like.. if I like you, then I'll only answer if you put it into a note, like high school." You raised your eyebrows, making him chuckle.
"Yeah, okay." He nods. The topic was dropped, the tension lifting slightly.
--
The next morning, you and Virgil leave bright and early, heading to the airport for your flight back to England. The plane had barely taken off and you were still not fully awake, nursing your coffee as Virgil's fingers drummed on his knee.
"Dude," you groaned, "I have a headache, it sounds like you're playing a gong right now."
He stops tapping on his leg, brows furrowed and lips twisted in a weird expression. "Can you play a gong? Is that what it is?"
"I don't know, you know what I mean." You tell him, leaning your head back, eyes shut. You barely got all but 3 minutes of silence before Virgil speaks up again. "Do you have a pen?"
You open your eyes, reaching over to dig through your purse next to you before fishing out a pen and handing it to him. You watch him as he uncaps it, scribbling something down on the napkin in front of him, sliding it over the table to you with the pen.
'Do you like me? Check yes or no.' The two little boxes labeled yes and no under his question.
You smile, shaking your head at his childishness and the fact that he took what you said seriously. You picked up the pen, checking a box and sliding it over to him.
The yes was checked, Virgil glances at you with a cheeky smile before picking up the pen, flipping over the napkin and writing something else before sliding it back to you.
'Will you be my girlfriend?' the same yes and no boxes drawn under the question.
Your answer was yes but you wouldn't give into him so quickly. You picked up the pen, chin in the palm of your head thinking as if it was the hardest question of your life. You can see Virgil shifting nervously in his seat, and it's as if you can hear him overthinking his decision to ask you.
To put him out of his misery, you check a box and slide it back over to him.
There's a sigh of relief when he sees you've checked yes. You toss the pen at him playfully, shaking your head. "You're so cheesy."
"You said to ask it in a note!" He says, folding the napkin and putting it into his pocket.
"I didn't think you'd actually do it!" You laughed, the man shook his head and unbuckled, leaving over the table. His hands cupping your face, smiling at you before he kisses you.
Your hand interlocked with his, stretched over the table when he sat back down. "How about when we get back, I take you on an actual date?"
Your thumb brushes over his hand. "Not sick of me yet?"
"Could never get sick of you, y/n."
--
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desire-mona · 2 days
Text
realising none of u have seen my writing before which is. a good thing probably. anyway i thrive best in letter writing format so here's a letter todd wrote to neil after he took a gun induced nap
(obvious tw for death and suicide and general grief adjacent feelings)
-
December 20th, 1959
Neil,
I’ve tried to write this about 7 separate times now, but I feel like I can never get the right combination of words to properly describe how I’m feeling. I don't really know why I’m writing this in the first place, I know you won't be able to read it. I guess I don't need a reason. I don't think I’ll be able to get it right no matter how many times I try, so forgive me if this doesn't make sense.
It's been about 5 days since you killed yourself passed and I still can't confidently say that it feels real. Mr. Keating got fired, Charlie got expelled, Cameron was behind all of it, and I can’t even bring myself to hate him for it. I'm angry, obviously, I’ve never been more furious with anyone in my life, but something in me knows that you wouldn't have hated him either. Things like that have been running through my mind a lot, I find myself operating under what I think you would’ve done, or at least wanted me to do. I hope I’m getting it right. I yelled at Cameron after he ratted us out, and it wasn't like those times before, nobody expected it of me. I like to think you would’ve been proud of me for that.
It's really quiet without you here, in ways that I didn't think I’d notice. You were never all that loud, which I appreciated, but even the small things being gone make me feel like I'm going insane. It's hard getting to sleep without hearing your breathing from across the room. Is that creepy? Sorry. Sometimes I open the window just so I can hear anything but silence. I usually just end up wondering how people can go about their days when someone so important is dead. How are people laughing and enjoying themselves when it feels like my entire world came to a screeching halt? How dare they continue with their lives without even acknowledging how much has changed? That’s about when I close the window, our the room starts to get cold after a while.
I'm trying to stay that more confident version of myself that you were helping me become, I could tell you liked a more outgoing Todd. I think he was buried with you, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to dig him back up. I hope that’s okay, I know how patient you were with me. Thank you for that by the way, you were the first person to give me the time of day when it came to that. It was really special, I wish I had the chance to tell you. There are a lot of things I wish I had the chance to tell you, you were the only person I ever wanted to say things like that to. I'm really sorry that I never did, I realize now that it probably would’ve done you some good to hear it. God only knows how little kindness your father gave you, if I had known how bad it was then I would’ve you deserved better than that. You deserved a lot more than what the world gave you, I think we all do. No amount of sorry’s can fix that.
I miss being near you.
I miss you.
I miss having you around. I’d forgive you if you came back and told us it was all a joke. I wouldn’t be mad at all, I promise.
- Todd Anderson
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