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randombush3 · 15 days

Text

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago.

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary.

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch.

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional.

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–”

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.”

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same.

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that.

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.”

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.”

You bite your lip.

“Ona, I think I’m gay.”

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be.

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you?

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago.

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you.

…

A year passes.

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes.

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam.

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded.

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up.

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.”

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say.

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you.

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her.

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible.

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it.

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.”

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.”

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.”

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now.

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return.

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.”

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.”

No one in the room is convinced.

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!”

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on.

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually.

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated.

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails.

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.)

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.”

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship.

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is.

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so.

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath.

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–”

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.”

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home.

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas.

It’s a camping trip.

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house.

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path.

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support.

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete.

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol.

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so.

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same.

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona.

Therein lies the issue, actually.

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always.

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop.

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything.

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school.

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow.

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers.

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours.

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes.

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her?

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes.

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology.

It’s not a crush.

Not on Ona.

No.

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested.

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic.

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?”

“I am happy for you, I just said that.”

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions.

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere.

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes.

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself.

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been.

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry.

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat.

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here.

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back.

Milan is great but–

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows.

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure.

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused.

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present.

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background.

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed.

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through.

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you.

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee?

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable.

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap.

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.”

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh.

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #barca femeni #randombush3 #pretend it's not all build up #but it is

389 notes · View notes

luveline · 11 months

Note

Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re up for any marauders requests- so no pressure!!

If you are though, I recently sprained my wrist pretty (really) bad at work and have been not great about taking care of it, resting, ect.

If it’s not too much trouble- could I get a lil thing about the marauders absolutely doting on reader over an injury? Like so soft and sweet it could give you diabetes.

Thank you!!!

hope this is okay sweetness! fem!reader, 2k

"She's trying to stand up again," James says, finger hooked in your belt loop.

You glare at him down on the sofa. "Tattle tale," you scold. It's hard to maintain; he looks very sweet today, everyday, and more than handsome.

Remus stands in the doorway to the living room, the smell of the honey tea he's making on his heels. "Why, dove?" he asks, sounding amusedly horrified. "Can't you stay still for ten minutes?"

"I just thought I'd help with the tea," you say, taking a painful step toward him. James gasps and actually stands himself.

Your eyes widen. James is more of a threat-giver than an enforcer. He loves telling on you or better yet enabling your bad behaviour, but if he's getting up it means he won't be allowing you any further self-detriment.

"Be gentle," Remus says.

James raises his eyebrows at you and crowds you, hands on your hips. He gives you a little push. "Sit back down."

You sit, and your ankle feels better for it immediately, but you cross your arms over your chest and huff so they know you don't appreciate being bossed around. James laughs, more than aware.

"It's for your own good," he says.

Remus returns with your tea and you say thanks even though you're pretending to be annoyed with them both. "I would like to be allowed to get my own tea," you say, pleased when James sits back at your side with his own cup of tea, his arm heavy against you. "It's not as bad as you think it is, I promise."

"You have a bruise bigger than Jersey on your ankle and…" James lowers his voice slightly, "I know it's hurting even when you aren't standing. You get a notch between your brows, right here," he says, tapping the space above your nose.

"The less you use it the quicker it will get better," Remus says.

"That logic only applies to injury," says a new voice. The front door closes, and after a second Sirius appears in his coat and jacket. "The more you use me, the better I get." He winks at you.

You wink back. Delighted, Sirius peels out of his coat and shoes and swiftly takes the empty seat on your left. He kisses your cheek hello, his slender fingers tucked deftly behind your ear so he can turn your face to his.

"Have you been resting?" he asks.

"No," Remus and James say at the same time.

"She's done the opposite," James adds.

"Yes, well, she's not perfect." He shakes his head at you hurriedly, mouthing, "You are perfect."

You know he's joking but you get all melted, tight shoulders lax, head dipping back against the sofa cushions. Sirius hums his approval and strokes your cheek with his thumb. He's not usually the most affectionate of the boys, but when you're injured he acts like you're on your deathbed and deserving of the world's collective sweetness.

"How was work?" you ask him.

"Agony," he says quietly, and he's putting it on, trying to make you squirm. It's working. "I was worried about you."

"I take offence to that," James says.

"I know you're taking care of her," Sirius says, "don't be daft, I just know she won't behave. Especially if I'm not here."

Half of a biscuit soars toward Sirius and hits him in the chest. Entertained, you follow its trajectory back to the source and find Remus in the big armchair, cup of tea cradled atop his knee. "What?" he asks, seemingly chewing the first half of the biscuit.

"Sirius–" James warns.

"Prick," Sirius says.

Remus swallows his biscuit and takes a sip of tea. "Oh, sorry. Slipped."

"Why have you chucked a biscuit at me?" Sirius asks.

James takes the biscuit and eats it. You laugh from behind your hand.

"No reason. Y/N, dovey, do you want a biscuit?" Remus asks you.

You nod and start to stand to retrieve one, but two arms grab your waist. James' arm, tan, steely without any effort, stops you from getting any further. Sirius', less strong but twice as eager, pulls you into his side with a groan.

"Please sit down," he says.

You sigh and let your head drop onto James' shoulder. "I'm sitting. I just want a biscuit."

Remus sits on the coffee table in front of you with a funny look on his face, a mixture of love and disbelief. "I was bringing them to you." He squeezes the tin closed in his lap, his eyes resolutely on yours so you're forced to meet his gaze. He's handsome, too, they all are, but Remus doesn't know it, unaware of the effect his eyes have on you, the colour like browned honey and the little specks of amber that surround his pupil. "I'll give you a biscuit if you promise to stop making it worse."

"Really," James seconds, "we want you to get better, that's all."

You slouch further into his shoulder, away from their doting concern. "It's not as bad as you think it is."

That's a bad lie. You and Sirius had been walking back up the garden steps after a red squirrel stakeout —the squirrels keep eating from Remus' bird feeders and therefore scaring away the birds— and you slipped in a strange way. You ended up sprawled out on your back and you'd burst into laughter, while Sirius looked down on you absolutely horrified. It was only later, an hour or so afterwards, when you'd been helped up and placed affectionately in bed, that your ankle started to ache, and you found you couldn't put any weight on it after all. Your panicked tears had terrified the three of them. They've been ridiculously lovely since then.

"Maybe I could have another look?" Remus asks.

It's a well-organised dance when you're together, and this part's no different. Remus hands the biscuit tin to James as he stands, and Sirius pushes the table back with his foot so Remus has room to kneel down in front of you. James opens the biscuit tin and knows your favourite without having to ask, offering it to you as Remus straightens out your leg.

"Is this compression thing a good idea all of the time?" Sirius asks.

Remus pulls it down, humming as you hiss in pain. "Oh, I know, dove. I'll be really quick," he promises.

"It's not so horribly bruised," James says.

"I hate that we're all looking at my foot right now."

Remus squeezes your toes. If you weren't wearing a sock under the compression support you'd have to break up with him.

"I think it looks less swollen," he says eventually, rolling up your sock and putting the compression back into the proper place. You gasp at the sudden movement and his brows crease in sympathy. "Sorry, dove."

"Let's elevate it, right?" James asks.

"Yes, I think so. I'll get you a pillow," Remus says.

He stands up, turns to leave, and then turns back to press a kiss to your temple.

"Me too," Sirius says, kissing your cheek.

Having refused to move from James' shoulder in your embarrassment, you're out of the way for James to kiss you too, and it's a good thing. Anymore sweetness and you'd probably melt into the threads of the sofa.

"I'll owe you one," James says.

Remus gets a pillow to prop up your foot. James becomes your dedicated human blanket. Sirius looks for a film to watch on the telly while discussing takeaway options, even when Remus claims that he's going to cook tonight.

"Takeaway is too expensive," Remus says.

"Cooking makes a mess that you'll insist on cleaning," Sirius argues.

"Takeaway also makes a mess," James says.

"We can't cook because I can't help," you declare. "And that's not fair. You guys will all be laughing and flirting in the kitchen and I'll be sat here by my lonesome watching Footloose."

"Footloose isn't on until ten," Sirius says, looking at the TV info bar with a smile, "you'd be watching Night Rider."

Remus holds his hand out from the armchair. It's miles from reaching you, but you know he's suggesting an alliance. "How about," he begins softly, "we have a takeaway and those two can do whatever they want."

"Remus," James says.

You stand up on your uninjured foot. The boys groan at your moving but don't argue, letting you limp to the armchair where Remus is sitting with little more than a chorus of defeated sighs. He puts his arms out for you, his hands and grip strong as he helps you down into the seat next to him. There's not really enough room for two, but he makes it, his arm crossing over your chest and under your arm to lock you in against him.

"This is ridiculous," James says.

Sirius shuffles across the sofa into the gap you've left behind. "We could always hide the menus," he says to James. "Neither of them know the numbers. Plus, she can't walk and he can't be bothered."

Remus pulls you in impossibly closer. "That's true."

The two boys opposite spring up from their seats, laughing as they begin plotting a cruel plan. You rub your fingertips up and down the length of the arm holding you, letting your head flop back into Remus' chest as you say, "They'll realise they like us too much to starve us soon enough."

"I know." His hold on you relaxes. "I really do wish you'd stop putting weight on your foot. Please. It needs time to get better."

"Okay," you say, a sucker for him when he talks so softly. "Sorry. No more walking around while it heals."

"Don't be sorry, just get better quickly. I need reinforcements against their nonsense."

"You love their nonsense."

James and Sirius return looking pleased with themselves not long after, and an hour passes quietly. When the doorbell rings, you're unsurprised to find they've ordered your favourite takeaway.

"You're predictable," Remus says.

"Well," Sirius says, lifting his chin, arms laden with cartons, "how else is she supposed to get better? She needs food."

In an example of extreme overkill, Remus and James act as crutches, helping you walk the short distance from the living room to the kitchen table. You're surprised James doesn't just attempt to pick you up in a fireman's lift, as is his usual style.

Sirius sets the table. Remus makes drinks. James doles out the portions of food, knowing what everyone wants without having to ask, and you miss being able to help. You're usually moving with them, an integral thread, ebbing and flowing in tandem. It's nice to watch them together, but you miss doing your part. James' hand warm on your hip as he eases you out of the way, or Sirius' childish attempts at tripping you up on the way to the silverware drawer.

"Sorry for being so useless lately," you say, twisting the fork in your hand over and over.

Three glares pierce you at once. "Who says you're useless?" James asks.

"You're out of commission for the moment," Remus says agreeably, "that's far from useless."

"I feel bad, having you wait on me. I know I'm making it worse all the time by refusing to just rest but I don't like you having to do everything for me, it's not fair."

Sirius sits down in the chair beside yours, tucking himself in quickly. "You realise that we'd look after you forever, right? Like, if you needed this much help and looking after every day, that wouldn't be a problem."

You shake your head. "Don't be silly."

James clears his throat. "No, listen to him. He's right."

"We don't mind helping you to the table, or carrying your washing downstairs for you, or any of the things we've offered to do for you since you hurt your ankle."

Remus sits in the seat across from you with a pointed look. James joins him, a packet of painkillers in hand. He pops two out for you, saying, "You're not useless just because we've had to give you some help. And if you were useless it wouldn't matter. So don't say sorry."

Remus nods. "Exactly. Don't feel guilty about an accident, dove."

You look at Sirius unsurely. "You really don't mind looking after me?"

He reaches over to handle your thigh. "No," he says, gaze soft, fingers squeezing into the fat of your leg lovingly, "we really don't mind."

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starlingflight · 2 months

Text

Priorities

A/N: I swear I'm going back to SEL now, but I sat down at my keyboard and this just came out of nowhere. Please accept this fluff filled HBP missing moment in penance for my procrastination:

Read on AO3

“Dean!”

Harry's stomach dropped at the sound of Dean's name from a voice that was unmistakably Ginny's. He turned to find her hurrying towards them across the common room, her school bag hanging haphazardly from her shoulder, and her eyes bright despite the early hour.

He wanted to keep walking. He'd thought he'd finally seen the last of her and Dean together since their break up a week ago, and he had no desire to witness more of it now, but Seamus stopped, and Harry had agreed to go to breakfast with both of them in place of Ron and Hermione, who were both busy with prefect duties.

Reluctantly, Harry halted beside Seamus, trying to look at anything but the way the morning sunlight slanted through the common room's high windows and made Ginny's hair look like it was glowing where it framed her face.

“I hoped I'd catch you before you left the common room,” she said. Harry tried not to listen, but it was impossible, it was like his ears were attuned to the exact, musical frequency of Ginny's voice.

“Did you?” Dean asked sceptically. “We've not really spoken since we–”

“Well, I've been busy with Quidditch, and OWL work,” Ginny said, and even without looking Harry knew she'd be waving a hand unconcernedly in front of her. “But I wanted to give you this back.”

Beside Harry, Seamus sucked in a sharp breath. Harry’s neck moved without any permission from his brain, forcing him to look.

She was holding an article of claret coloured clothing out to Dean, one that Harry recognised immediately. Something integral inside him had taken great offence the first time he’d seen her wearing Dean's West Ham jumper; he'd not grown to appreciate it any more on any of the following, mercifully infrequent, occasions either.

“You can keep it,” Dean said now, looking extremely caught off guard. “I didn’t expect you to give it back.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, it's yours. I meant to give it you last week, but I've been–”

“Busy,” Dean finished for her. “You said.”

He took the jumper, clutching it awkwardly against his body. Harry looked away again. Seamus cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I'll just put this in the dorm,” Dean said. “No point carrying it around all day.”

“I’ll come with you,” Seamus offered. Harry remained silent, his eyes fixed on a tapestry of a witch petting a unicorn hanging on the far wall.

“Bye, Ginny.”

“Bye, Dean.”

Harry felt rather than saw Seamus move away from him. He heard the simultaneous footsteps of him and Dean making their way back to the dormitory. He didn't look away from the tapestry until he heard the door to the staircase open, when he did, it was to find Ginny looking at him apologetically.

“Did I just doom you to a solitary breakfast?”

Harry shrugged, ignoring the flutter of butterflies rising in his stomach. “Not if you come with me?”

Thankfully, Ginny grinned in response to this suggestion, meaning Harry was spared from dying of embarrassment that morning.

“Come on then. I need to report back to Mum that you're eating properly.”

“Why would I not be eating properly?” He followed her to the portrait hole.

Ginny shrugged. “I don’t know, it's Mum, she thinks everyone's not eating properly.”

The corridor outside Gryffindor Tower was deserted. Their footsteps echoed loudly as they made their way towards the staircase.

“Sorry if that was really awkward,” Ginny said, throwing a glance over her shoulder, obviously checking for Dean, who did not appear to have come back down from the dormitory yet. “I've been carrying that bloody jumper around in my bag for days trying to find a time to give it back. I had to take the opportunity when it was presented to me.”

“Honestly, I'm just glad it's gone,” Harry said, before his brain could engage his mouth. Ginny's eyebrows rose about as much as Harry's heart plummeted. “It's killed me to see you in West Ham colours,” he said quickly.

Ginny frowned. “I didn't realise you were such a big football fan.”

Well, he was going to have to pretend to be now. “I live with Muggles, don't I?”

“You've never mentioned a football team,” she pressed.

Harry could feel her eyes studying his face like a physical touch. His heart was hammering in his chest; his brain had conveniently chosen that moment to stop working; he couldn't name a single football team even with a wand to his head.

“I–”

“Actually, I have a more important question!” Ginny announced, saving Harry from whatever stuttered nonsense had been about to come out of his mouth. “Do you even have a Quidditch team?”

They were at the staircase now, Ginny was a few steps ahead of him, making their height difference even starker than usual as she looked up at him curiously.

“Er, Gryffindor?” Harry tapped the Captain's badge pinned to his jumper.

“No!” Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. She paused, waiting for Harry to catch up to her. “An actual team – a professional team?”

“Oh, I guess–”

“Don't say it!” Ginny said, ending Harry's sentence once more. Her eyes narrowed. “If you tell me Ron's converted you to the Cannons, I'm going to disown you.”

“Disown me?” he repeated, his smile growing in response to the one gracing Ginny's face. “I wasn't aware you owned me to begin with.”

“Weren't you?” She looked away from him, taking the next flight of stairs two at a time. “Well, now you are.”

“Unless I tell you I'm a Cannons supporter?” Harry increased his pace to keep up with her. “And then you're going to disown me?”

“Exactly.”

Was she blushing or was that just in Harry's head?

“I'd better not risk it then.”

She was definitely blushing. Or, more likely, he had started with waking delusions to match the near constant ones he had about her in his dreams.

Ginny stopped on the step directly below him. She turned, placing her hand lightly on Harry's chest, halting both his descent, and the beat of his heart.

“Let me tell you why you should be a Holyhead Harpies fan.”

“Is this your sales pitch?” It was a wonder he could speak at all when his lungs had stopped working.

She nodded. She was so close, her head tilted up to look at him, and her hand on his chest spreading warmth throughout his entire body. It would be so easy to lean down and–

Ginny took a step backwards, letting her arm fall away from Harry as she continued down the stairs. Her eyes, however, never left his.

“One.” She lifted a finger in the air beside her. “Choosing the only all-female team in the league will make you appear sensitive, and extremely attractive, to most girls.”

“You want me to make a decision as important as this based on what girls might think?”

Somehow, he managed to keep to himself that he was on the verge of doing just that, based on what one particular girl might think.

Ginny shrugged. “It's a sales pitch, I'm trying to appeal to your top priorities.”

“Well, the opinions of unknown girls isn't one of them.”

“Good to know.”

“Is it?” He hadn't meant for his voice to drop so low, but he definitely liked the way Ginny's smile grew in response.

“Yes, it helps me figure out my angle.” She raised a second finger in the air. “Two: their colours are green and gold, which my mother would assure you are your colours too.”

Harry laughed; the sound bounced off the ancient walls surrounding them. “So, upon hearing I'm not making this choice based on the opinion of girls I might, hypothetically, want to impress, your next thought was your mum?”

“No!” Ginny protested through a laugh of her own. “My next thought was that you look good in green!”

Harry's laughter died as his breath was stolen from him once again.

“Three,” Ginny said quickly, raising a third finger into the air. “This one is the most important.”

“Go on,” he managed to say.

They were almost at the marble staircase now. Ginny halted their progress by leaning against the balustrade that overlooked the entrance hall. Harry lingered beside her, finding nothing to complain about in spending longer in her company.

“In a few years, when they sign me – which is definitely going to happen – you don't want the inner turmoil of choosing between your loyalty to another team and me.”

“There would be no inner turmoil,” Harry said, acutely aware that he should shut up, but finding himself completely incapable of doing so when Ginny was looking at him like she currently was. “I would obviously choose you.”

Her smile was almost too brilliant to look at, yet Harry couldn't look away. “Oh, so you'd say I'm quite high on your priority list?”

He didn't know if she took a step closer, or he did, all he knew was that the gap between them had decreased significantly, and that his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.

“Fairly high, yeah.”

Ginny's eyes bored into his; Harry was transfixed. He waited, barely breathing, to see what her response would be. The corner of her mouth twitched–

“There you are!” Ron's voice crashed into him with the force of a lightning bolt.

Harry jumped back from Ginny, whipping his head around to see Ron and Hermione approaching, Ron grinning broadly, and Hermione looking almost as pained as Harry currently felt.

“Have you eaten?” Ron asked.

Harry glanced at Ginny to find her glaring at Ron. “We were just on our way to breakfast.”

“Excellent,” Ron said obliviously. “We're done with rounds.”

He continued walking, without stopping, in the direction of the marble staircase, apparently secure in the knowledge that Harry and Ginny would join him and Hermione. A fair assumption, Harry reminded himself, pushing off the balustrade.

“I'm going to tell him,” Ginny said, quietly enough for only Harry to hear as she fell into step beside him. Harry's stomach sank, his brain leaping into overdrive, imagining Ginny informing Ron that he'd just spent the whole walk from the common room treacherously flirting with his sister. “...that you've betrayed the Cannons in favour of the Harpies.”

“I don't think I actually agreed to that yet.” He hoped his shaking voice was only detectable to him.

If Ginny noticed, she didn't show it. She was smiling again, her eye catching his. “You as good as did,” she said as they crossed the entrance hall. “But don't worry, it can be our secret for now.”

#hinny #harry x ginny #hbp missing moment

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cieloclercs · 8 months

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 4/? (read part 3 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. pure angst lmao, charles is an idiot with a capital I, swearing, basically everyone hates charles, the leclercs (minus charles) and joris being iconic + your unnamed bestie, i used pictures from france 2022 so sorry about that 🫠

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. alex is in one of the pictures as a face claim for a different character but absolutely no hate is intended to her at all !! sorry for the angst in this one 😭 but i promise it won’t stay like that for much longer! <33

liked by yourfriend and 27,836 others

y/nsart experimenting with new textures and media! super happy with the outcome 🖤

view all comments…

yourfriend incredible 😍

*y/nsart liked this comment

username oh fuck.

username now i really want to know what charles did

username so i’m not the only one getting REALLY sad vibes off these paintings??

username nope 😃

username will any of these be going for sale? 👀

y/nsart i don’t think so unfortunately! i’m just painting for me at the moment :)

username @charles_leclerc what the fuck did you do?

username what happened to y/n’s light tones and summer landscapes? ☹️

username charles happened apparently

username pascale normally comments on y/n’s art posts…is this confirmation? 🥲

username babes you’re reaching

username or at least i hope you are

username the charles thing aside, these are so beautiful!

username no charles like either 😭😭

username it’s the beginning of the end girls :’(

arthur_leclerc amazing as always 🖤

*y/nsart liked this comment

username at least arthur’s still here !!

username wrong leclerc. no offence arthur

arthur_leclerc none taken, i fully agree 😃

username WHAT

username ok so we’ve got no pascale or charles…but there’s still some leclerc presence 🤔

username i’ll be honest i’ve got no idea what’s going on

username same bestie !!

username i mean it’s got to be all connected. charles’ dnf in zandvoort and how sad he looked all weekend (he didn’t even post after!!) and now this?? something weird is going on

username i just want charlesy/n back 🥲

liked by formulaupdates and 9,736 others

f1wags Charles Leclerc arrived in the Monza paddock today with Italian model Bianca Santoro. Sources suggest they looked pretty cosy 👀

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username it’s over for us charlesy/n nation 🥲

username i’m literally sobbing

username YOU’RE JOKING

username this can’t be happening.

username it’s only been three weeks and he’s already forgotten about y/n??

username you say that like they ever actually dated 🙄

username no they didn’t, but they’ve been best friends since they were literal toddlers! that’s not something you just get over in a few weeks imo

username my heart is breaking wtf

username @charles_leclerc WHAT ABOUT Y/N???

username oh my god for the last time, THEY NEVER DATED !! 🙄🙄

username i seriously believed charles was in love with y/n 💔💔

username why does this feel like a betrayal 😭

username i feel so bad for y/n 🥲

username yikes

username guys this girl might actually be nice! don’t be so quick to judge just because you all want charles and y/n together 😁

username we never said she isn’t.

username but they were my endgame 😭😭

username the only positive out of this is that we’re about to be fed with the most beautiful, haunting, gut-wrenchingly tragic paintings OF ALL TIME

username y/n’s rep era (painter edition) loading…

liked by leclerc_pascale and 104,357 others

y/nsart the heart was made to be broken

view all comments…

username oh.

username not the oscar wilde quote 💔

username i was not mentally prepared for this

username i don’t think any of us were babe 🥲

username i’m never going to forgive charles for this

username why am i feeling this so deeply 😭

leclerc_pascale ❤️

username i can just imagine what pascale’s going to say to charles after this lmao

username she’s gonna tear him apart 😭

arthur_leclerc stop this now i will cry.

username arthur 😭😭

username phahah he’s one of us

username @arthur_leclerc same bestie

username as sad as this is i wish i had an outlet for my emotions like this…i feel like it would be so liberating

*y/nsart liked this comment

username this is exactly what heartbreak feels like. i’m not ok.

username charles is now enemy number 1 after making my girl y/n feel like this

username i was going to say i hope he dnfs but he’s already cursed enough it’ll probably happen anyway

username HAHAHA SO TRUE 😭

username someone said y/n’s rep era would be the only positive out of the charles-bianca thing BUT THIS IS PAINFUL. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I WANT HAPPY Y/N BACK.

username oh god the first and last slides 💔💔💔

username she’s not even denying it anymore…

username i’m going to pray every day from now that charles comes to his senses and tells her how he feels 🙏🙏

username can i join you

username and me

username our delusional asses need to stick together rn 😔🙏

username on a slightly less sad note THE AMOUNT OF LIKES THIS HAS GOT OMG.

username as it should! y/n’s talent needs to be more widely recognised 😌

username @charles_leclerc you’re breaking all our hearts here

liked by f1wags and 15,736 others

formula1updates Charles Leclerc after his DNF in Monza 💔

view all comments…

username karma.

username honestly it serves him right

username we manifesting it guys !!

username i want to be sad because that’s his championship hopes completely out of the window but he genuinely deserves it after the way he’s treated y/n…

username you mess with y/n you mess WITH GOD BITCH

username lmao it’s so funny that he brings his little girlfriend with him and then crashes out 3 laps in 😭

username he KNOWS he deserves it as well

comments on this post have been limited.

yourfriend

yourusername toujours mon amour 🩷 arthur_leclerc take care of her please ↳ yourfriend what do you think i’m doing? 🙄 joris_trouche can’t believe i wasn’t invited 😔 ↳ yourfriend do you understand the meaning of a ‘girl’s trip’? charles_leclerc please can you ask her to answer my texts? ↳ yourfriend why should i? you’ve already hurt her enough.

three weeks later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 26,836 others

tagged: yourfriend

yourusername healing 🌊🤍🌙

view all comments…

yourfriend la plus belle fille 💕/ the most beautiful girl

yourusername je t’aime <3

leclerc_pascale Reviens vite à la maison, mon ange 🤍 / come home soon, angel

yourusername tu me manques, maman 🥹

username the strongest person i know 🩵

*yourusername liked this comment

arthur_leclerc i never thought i’d say these words but i miss you ☹️

yourusername awww arth 🥹🥹 i miss you too x

joris_trouche still sad i wasn’t invited on the girl’s trip :’((

yourfriend tais toi, stupide 🙄 / shut up, stupid

yourusername 😭😭

joris_trouche rude 🙁

username guys are we all seeing the same thing right now or am i hallucinating 😳

username charles liked??

username OMG IM NOT HALLUCINATING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨🚨‼️‼️‼️ CHARLES LIKED EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username not charles trying to crawl his way back bitch please 😭

username @/yourusername tell him to go fuck himself x

username HAHSHAH STOP

username nah i’m calling it he’s definitely been lurking around her and y/f/n’s stories for weeks trying to figure out how to win her back 🤞🤞🤞

username girl you’re delulu if you think y/n’s gonna take him back that easily 🙄

username y’all just ignoring the fact that he still has a whole ass girlfriend 😭😭

username let me be delulu in peace please and thanks. 😐

username this is the mediterranean girl summer i want 😍

username how to be y/n y/l/n

username babe this isn’t google

username this bianca girl has NOTHING on y/n

username fr she’s literally a goddess 😫

username if charles doesn’t want her i’ll gladly take her 🤭

username two pretty best friends 🤩

username the growth 🤍 @/yourusername i’m manifesting love and happiness for you girl !! no one deserves it more 😘

yourusername thank you my love 🥹🥹

username charles get tf out of here 😂

username lmaooo he’s ruining the hot girl summer vibe

➜ part 5

tagged: @incoherenciass

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mynicosensesaretingling · 2 months

Text

Playful banter and dull sceneries

Nico Rosberg x fem!reader

Request: “Hello I hope you're taking request sorry for bothering if not but could you please do Nico Rosberg friends to lovers ending in someone walking in on them while they’re making out? Thank you in advance.”

Warnings: none except it has been written in my notes app

Note: Thank you so much for your request. I had so much fun writing this and really hope you enjoy what I came up with!! <3

————-

The day of the race dawned with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, the paddock abuzz with activity as teams and spectators alike prepared for the thrilling spectacle ahead. Amidst the hustle and bustle, you found yourself in the company of Nico Rosberg, your longtime friend and partner in crime.

As you strolled through the paddock together, Nico's presence beside you felt both familiar and electrifying, the air tingling with unspoken tension. Over the years, your friendship had evolved into something deeper, though neither of you had dared to acknowledge the simmering undercurrent of attraction that lingered between you.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" you asked, eyes studying Nico’s side-profile with playful curiosity, as you waited for his answer. Turning his head to meet your gaze, Nico flashed you a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, aside from winning the race, I thought we could find a cosy spot to avoid the paparazzi and their pesky questions.“

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “Ah, so this is your clever plan to dodge the journalists, huh? Sneak away with me and hope they won’t find us?”

Nico feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart in mock offence. “I’m hurt that you would even suggest such a thing! I just thought we could use some quality time away from the madness, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well Nico’s aversion to the press. “Sure, Nico. Quality time away from the madness. Translation: hiding away from nosy reporters.” The blonde grinned unabashedly, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “Hey, if it means spending time with you, I’ll take my chances with the paparazzi any day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his shameless flattery, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “Smooth, Rosberg. Real smooth.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as you made your way through the paddock, navigating through the maze of trailers and hospitality suites in search of the perfect hiding spot. Despite the chaos around you, there was a sense of peace in Nico’s company, a feeling of familiarity that eased the tension in your shoulders.

Finally, you found yourselves at the paddock's edge, overlooking a secluded stretch of the racetrack. It wasn’t the most glamorous spot, with a few discarded tyre stacks providing makeshift seating, but it offered a reprieve from the chaos of the ever-buzzing paddock.

“Well, this is…. cosy.” you remark, eyebrows raised as you take in the less-than-stellar accommodations.

The driver chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I did promise you a quiet spot away from the crowds. I never said it would be luxurious.” You playfully elbow him in the ribs, earning a mock wince in response. “At least tell me to bring a cushion next time.”

Nico grinned at your playful jab, rubbing his side theatrically. “Ouch! Next time, I’ll be sure to pack a bottle of champagne for the princess.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, biting your lip to prevent the laugh bubbling up within you from escaping. “I guess for now we’ll just have to make do without the VIP treatment.”

The blonde driver settled onto one of the discarded tyre stacks, motioning for you to join him. “Come on, don’t be a diva. This is prime real estate.” You followed suit, perching on the stack beside him with a grin. “You know, I think I’ve had worse seats at the movies.”

Nico chuckled, head tilting, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Well. as long as the company’s good, that’s all that matters, right?”

Noticing the warmth in his words, your heart fluttered. The playful banter between the two of you adding an extra layer of tension to the already-charged atmosphere.

“Of course,” you replied, flashing him a smirk. “Though I must admit, the view could be better.” your hand lazily gesturing in front of you. Nico raised his eyebrow, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes upon hearing your comment.

“Are you implying that I’m not enough to keep you entertained? I’m wounded.”

His dramatic antics lead you to shake your head in amusement. “Oh, come on, Nico. You know you’re more than enough to keep me entertained. I just thought a more scenic backdrop wouldn’t hurt.”

Nico feigned a loud sigh, hand clutching his chest, as if your words had struck him. “I’m crushed! Here I was, thinking I was the main attraction.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Well, you’re a close second.” The driver’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement, as he grinned. “I’ll take it. But just wait until I win this race- you’ll be singing a different tune then.”

You cross your arms, eyes sparkling upon feeling challenged.

“Oh, is that a promise, Rosberg? Because last time I checked, certain other drivers might have something to say about that.” The man’s grin widened, the competitive spark igniting in his gaze. “Ah, but you forget, my dear. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve this time.”

You fully turned your body in his direction, to lean in closer. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? But I’ll have you know, I’m not easily impressed, Rosberg.”

Nico was still grinning, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I’m counting on it. After all, what fun would winning be if it didn’t come with a challenge?”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you as you met his playful challenge head-on. "Well, then, consider me your greatest challenge yet. But don't get too cocky, Nico. You haven't won this race yet."

Nico's expression softened, a hint of something more lingering in his gaze as he looked at you. "True, but with you by my side, I'd say my odds are looking pretty good."

The words hung in the air between you, charged with a tension that left you breathless. In that moment, surrounded by the fading light of the afternoon sun and the distant buzzing of the paddock, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

But just as the tension between you threatened to reach its peak, Nico's cocky demeanour resurfaced, bringing the sense of playfulness back to the moment. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reached out, his hand gently grasping yours.

"Well, if I haven't won the race yet, perhaps I'll just have to find another way to claim my victory," he quipped, his voice laced with a hint of seduction.

Before you could respond, he surprised you by reaching out and tugging you from your perch on the stack of tyres. You found yourself swept off your feet, quite literally, as Nico effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, interrupting your protest with a playful grin.

"Nico, what on earth—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he cut you off with a cheeky smirk.

"Just making sure you have the best view possible, darling," he said, his arms encircling you in a snug embrace. "You were right, the scenery is quite dull after all."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at his audacity, though a part of you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that his closeness stirred within you. "Well, aren't you just the epitome of chivalry, Nico Rosberg."

Nico smirked, the playful expression never leaving his lips. "Only the best for you, my dear. After all, it's not every day I get to share a secluded spot overlooking the racetrack with such charming company." You rolled your eyes at his smooth talk, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh, spare me the flattery, Rosberg. We both know you're just trying to distract me from the fact that you're about to get your butt handed to you on the racetrack."

Nico's grin widened, his confidence unwavering. "Is that a challenge, darling? Because I assure you, I'm more than ready to prove you wrong." "Oh, I'm counting on it. But just remember, Nico, actions speak louder than words." you teasingly wink.

Nico's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, as his voice suddenly became husky. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to let my actions do the talking."

Before you could even process the meaning of his words, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours with a gentle urgency. In that instant, years of unspoken longing seemed to culminate in the tender press of his lips against yours. It was as if every stolen glance, every lingering touch, had led to this moment of undeniable connection.

As his arms enveloped you, pulling you closer, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you. The world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the sweet taste of his lips against yours. It was a moment of pure bliss, a culmination of years of pining and unspoken desires finally coming to fruition.

In that fleeting moment, everything just clicked into place, and you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of being truly and completely loved. It was a kiss filled with passion, tenderness, and a deep-seated longing that could no longer be denied. And as you melted into his embrace, the world seemed to stand still, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable truth of your connection.

Amidst the fervour of the moment, a satisfied, hoarse noise escaped Nico's lips, a primal sound of contentment that sent shivers down your spine. It was a silent affirmation of the intensity of his emotions, a wordless declaration that spoke volumes about the depth of his desire. And as you melted further into his embrace, you couldn't help but reciprocate, your own heart echoing the fervent passion that burned between you.

But just as the kiss deepened, a sudden voice shattered the moment, causing you to jump in surprise.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Jenson's smirk widened as he observed the scene before him, his eyes flickering between you and Nico with a knowing gleam.

Nico groaned theatrically at the interruption, one hand reaching up to comb through his tousled hair while the other comfortably rested on your hip. "Jenson! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

The Brit chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just thought I'd take a stroll through the paddock and see what I could find. I must say, I didn't expect to stumble upon a couple of lovebirds in the process."

You exchanged sheepish glances with Nico, a blush creeping up your cheeks at Jenson's teasing remark. "Well, it looks like our secret's out," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Nico chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer. "I suppose there's no hiding it now. But if we're going to be caught, I can't think of a better person to witness our... moment."

Jenson raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, believe me, it was pretty obvious from the moment I stumbled upon you two. The way you were practically glued to each other's sides? I'd say the cat's been out of the bag for a while now."

You exchanged a surprised glance with Nico, the realization dawning on you that perhaps your feelings for each other weren't as much of a secret as you had thought. But as Nico pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his gaze softening with affection, you knew that whatever the future held, you were ready to face it together – with laughter, love, and the occasional teasing remark from the ever-observant Jenson Button.

#nico rosberg x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 drivers #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #nico rosberg x you #nico rosberg imagine #f1 grid x reader #f1 oneshot #f1blr #f1 driver x reader

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igotanidea · 11 months

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Cheater - part 2

part 1

Warnings: SMUT -MINORS DNI PLEASE! heavy angst, heartbreak, poor life choices, trauma, drama

A/N: special thanks to @90s-belladonna - I kinda heard your comment :D, and sorry for all the spelling mistakes, it's waayyyy past midnight here but I just had to finish it.

Ok, here we go people. Get ready for angst in 3....2......1.....

***

„You sure as hell moved on pretty fast.”

“Come on, Dick, it’s been three months. Do you seriously expect me to cry over a guy who, may I remind you, cheated on me. And who, may I remind you as well, you wanted to beat to shit cause of that?”

“Hey, I’m just saying” Dick raised his hands in surrendering gesture “it’s just nice to see you smiling again.”

“Besides.” Y/N gave him a warning expression “Kyle and I are just friends. We are having fun together, but he is a freaking green lantern. Here one second and on the other side of the galaxy the other. You cannot quite rely on a guy like that to get into a serious relationship with.”

“Mhm, sure. Someone should probably tell him you think so.”

“Why?”

“Cause I can see the way he looks at you.”

“Which is how exactly?” the girl turned around, facing Dick, her eyes showing nothing more but a confusion.

“Like you are a piece of meat, Y/N. He surely wants something more than friendship.”

“Who? Kyle? He’s a resident flirt. He’s not treating me seriously, and neither do I him.”

“Right, whatever you say.”

“You are being paranoid Dick. I know you want to protect me and I appreciate that, truly” she put a hand on his shoulder making him look straight into her face “but I’m fine, I promise. And if anything wrong were to happen I know where to turn. You may have slightly different judgment, but all I’m asking is a little bit of trust. Can I have that, Dickie?”

“Fine! Fine! Have it your way. But. If he does anything. I mean, anything you don’t like, you tell me, all right?”

“All right, Mr. Vigilante. Even though with all the batman training I could probably kick his ass myself. But I promise.”

“Good. Have a nice date then.” he laughed leaving the room.

“It’s not a date!” he yelled after him

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, sunshine!”

***

After learning what Jason did (who was irrelevant at the moment) Y/N swore to herself she will not succumb into depression and bad thinking. Nope. It was not her fault, she was the victim and there was seriously no reason to dwell on the past. It hurt, sure it did, she loved him after all and such feeling cannot just be turned off, but slowly with Babs, Cass and Steph help she got back on her feet. This entire situation was particularly hard for Dick, since if nothing else Jace was his brother, but he was Y/N’s biggest support as well, helping her get her mind of things by giving her some serious vigilante training and let her join the team on the field. He would never do that under any other circumstances and Y/N appreciated that in every way possible.

So yes, after a month or so, she started to heal and let go, opening herself to life and putting her extra energy into patrols and night work. And that was how she met Kyle. It was actually quite easy. One day, on the titans meeting, while Y/N was discussing the details of newest mission with Donna he just dropped by, apparently because of some mission, and the girl instantly caught his attention. And given the fact that Kyle had a relationship with Wonder Girl it made it easier to push through to Y/N.

“So, who’s your little friend, Donna?” he asked, tilting his head and eyeing Y/N carefully.

“I’m sorry, who are you calling little, green?” Y/N scoffed “just because you ego is sky rocket high, does not mean I will let you diminish me.”

“All right, there’s no need to get defensive. You just seem like the newest member of the team and that makes you …. Well, little. Unexperienced. A greenie if I may say so. ”

“Kyle….” Donna warned the boy, but he let those words go.

“No offence here, little one, but maybe you should just go home and stay safe. Earth has many protectors who are way more qualified to do the job.”

“Ok, that’s it.” Y/N came right at him, before Donna or any other member of the Titans could stop her. He knew exactly what green lanterns were capable of so with just one perfect swing, turn and kick she managed to grab his ring, with which he was recklessly playing. Once her fingers clutched around the source of the boy’s power, taking him completely by surprise, she threw some of her shurikens in his direction, the force of the flying object, pinning Kyle to the wall.

“Hmmmm” he muttered easily breaking free and humming in admiration “I may have underestimated you.” he reached his hands toward her “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Kyle Rayner, and who may you be, sunshine?”

***

Their relationship was rocky. There were teasing and playing on each other’s nerves, but also quiet moments together when no words were needed to fill the silence. There were fights and banters, but also supporting each other and tending to each other wounds. Y/N missed the fact that this was pretty similar to the other relationship she was before. Guess the girl had a type. But still, Kyle was just a friend to her. Maybe even a frenemy. Nothing more. Nothing. And that was why it was so hard for her to believe the truth behind Dick’s words. Did Kyle see more to their talking and meeting than it truly was? Did he want … more?

It was a bit too late to wonder about that, but her mind was just fixed on this thought.

Was that why he asked her out for tonight. Truly, Y/N believed it was just a casual outing, especially when he mentioned the possibility of his female friend joining him. Y/N was convinced, she was supposed to be the wingwoman and said friend was the one Kyle had his eyes on, but now, as she recollected how the guy asked her out, she realized how wrong she was all this time.

“Hey, Y/n” Kyle grabbed her waist from behind and not giving a damn about her kicking and screaming to put her down, spun her in the air “how about we go out next Saturday? Hm? Come on, say yes, you know it’s impossible to deny this handsome face.”

“First of all, get your hands off me, Rayner! And secondly, why would I say yes to you. You are a terrible person.”

“hmmm. You’ll get dinner for free, and perhaps a flower? How is that for an incentive?”

“That sounds better. I may be friends with a billionaire son, but still had to cut on expenses. How unfair is that?” she scoffed

“It’s settled than.” Kyle smirked “I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m., little one.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Not a chance” he bend over and pecked her cheek so quickly it was like it never happened “Oh, and one more thing. I have this one friend, who recently started going out with some new dude. She says there’s a bit awkwardness between them, though she paved over the reason. Anyway, I thought maybe we can show those two how nice and friendly it can be between a man and a woman?”

“Oh, so now I’m a woman?”

“Hush, little one. What I meant was that Artemis and her guy may be joining us, hope you don’t mind? We can still have….. “ he hesitated, his eyes fixed on his face and he had to fight an urge to lick his lips “fun.”

“I don’t really care who joins us.” Y/N waved her hands around dismissively “can I just go now?’

“Sure. I’ll see you soon, pretty.” He threw her directions and took off flying.

“Showoff.” She mumbled under her nose.

BUT WHAT THE HELL DID HE CALL HER?! PRETTY?!

***

Yes, she obviously misjudged Kyle’s intentions over her and that came out painfully clear when he knocked on her door, all dressed up, looking.. well, as much as she hated to admit it, handsome. Thank god, she put on a clear pair of jeans and her best shirt. Otherwise she would fell terribly underdressed.

“Hello, little one.” He smiled his signature flirty smile and handed her a single flower.

“One flower?” she raised an eyebrow taking it from his hand “what am I supposed to do with it? Smell and swoon over your charm?”

“told you it was gonna be a single one. Were you expecting more?”

“No.” she shook her head “let’s just go, all right. I’m actually pretty hungry and the sooner I meet that friend of yours, the sooner I will be free of talking to you.”

“Always a pleasure to be the one to be used by you.” Kyle grinned and motioned her to the car.

“SHUT UP!”

“You look so cute when you are flustered.” He cooed “now come on, get it the car. Are you waiting for me to open the door for you? Cause that may take some time.”

“I’m just reconsidering if my hunger is really worse than the pain of being in your company…..” she pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering what she just got herself into “Fine. Fine, I’ll get in. But just to be clear, I’m ordering the most expensive dish on the menu.”

“Which would probably be a burger and fries, but whatever you say, little one.”

“I HATE YOU, RAYNER!”

“Yeah, I love you too, Y/N.” he teased playfully, but somehow his tone was a bit different than usually.

Oh, she was terribly wrong with judging his intentions, and hell, apparently Dick was right.

***

Once they arrived at the destination, Kyle quickly noticed his friend already sitting in one of the booths. Her red hair were obviously distinctive so there was not a chance to miss the girl.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Artemis, one of the biggest mischief there is. Artie….”

“Don’t call me Artie!”

“…. This is Y/N, the girl who though she could beat me the first time we met. Hopefully now she realizes how wrong she was.”

“Hi!” Y/N decided to ignore Kyle’s words and focus on the other girl, instead “I’m Y/N. Good to see I’m not the one who gets called by him.”

“That’s annoying, isn’t it? Maybe we should join forces in kicking his ass?” Artemis smiled

“Bet that would be a shame for him. Can you imagine? Beaten by two girls?” both of them laughed. This Artemis girl seemed nice.

“Ok, ladies, enough of your silly dreams. Where did you lost your boyfriend, Arty? Cause my girl mentioned something about trying to leave me broke and I can’t wait to see her try. How long will we have to wait for him?”

“He just went to the bathroom. Something about bracing himself. You can’t possibly realize how much effort I had to put in dragging him out tonight.”

“Girl, can we switch guys?” Y/N laughed “I would kill for a man who’d rather stay at home than make me go out.”

“Hmm, nice try, but I’m not giving up Jason so easily.”

“Jason?” Y/N froze for a second. No. No, this could not be…..

“Oh, there he is. Hey, Jace!” Artemis waved her hand in the direction of a black-haired guy. With a white strand of hair in the middle of the forehead. “We’re here.”

“Rayner.” Jason muttered, slipping into the booth.

“You never mentioned you were going out with Jay Todd!” Kyle laughed loudly “that is a hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Wait, you know each other?” Artemis’ gaze switched between two boys

“Long story full of hate and friendship.” Kyle laughed again. “Anyway, Jason, I’d like you to meet and probably get jealous of the pretty girl I came with tonight. No offence to your girlfriend present.”

“None taken.” Artemis shrugged and snuggled closer to Jason.

Jason, whose gaze travelled toward Y/N.

And then he realized and his eyes turned wide.

And what was even worse, she realized too. The girl who was so nice and sympathetic was also the one, Jason cheated on Y/N with.

“Hey, are you two all right there? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jason stuttered, not really convincing anyone.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was sure as hell going to be a fucking interesting night.

***

The tension could literally be cut with a knife.

At least for Jason and Y/N since Kyle and Artemis were having so much fun together that if the other two were to disappear and never come back, none of them would even notice. While the lantern and the red head were just talking and talking and talking, the former Robin and the newest Titans member were focused on picking on their food, not even eating, just dragging it all over the plates, eyes down, unable to pretend. All those months of lying to herself and just by seeing him Y/N was falling back into the same trap.

Good thing she caught herself on repeating the same scenario.

“You are being awfully quiet, Y/N” Kyle finally realized whose voice was missing in the conversation “Todd here is a constant growler, but what happened to my little one?” he grabbed her waist pulling her closer and pinched her side, missing the furious glint in Jason’s eyes. Y/N did not and decided to use it.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you, Kyle. And you let me pick my own food, that is sooo kind of you.” she mocked “boys this days, right Artemis?’

“Sure…..” the other girl nodded “we are both lucky I guess, I mean Jace, despite his rather harsh outside is pretty friendly on the inside.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Y/N smiled, her eye travelling to Jason, who at this point was just clenching his jaw. “Kyle, honey! You should have told me you knew each other. I would be much better prepared for this date. Now I feel like I don’t know your friends at all and seem boring.”

“boring? Y/N, love….” Kyle immediately matched Y/N tone, not fully aware why she turned to be like this, but he liked that. “You are everything but boring.”

“Oh, stop it” he laughed in the silliest, girlish smile she could produce and pushed his chest lightly, playfully “you’re making me blush.”

“And that’s the prettiest blush in the galaxy.” Kyle brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, bringing his face closer to hers. “And I would know, I am the green lantern after all.”

That was simply enough for Jason. He could not control himself anymore, standing up abruptly, almost tripping the table and the dishes.

“Jason?” Artemis took his hand, rubbing it gently “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “I need to smoke.” Without any other word of explanation or apology he left the table, heading towards the back exit.

“I’m sorry.” Artemis sighed deeply “I told he’s been acting strange for a while now…..”

“Really?” Y/N sipped on her cocktail innocently “for how long exactly.”

“A few months actually. I’m not really sure what’s got into him…. Maybe I should go and check on him?”

“Leave it, Artie. I’m telling you, Todd is one hell of a strange man…..

“Can’t argue with that….” Y/N mumbled, but no one heard her.

“…. A closed book, you could never open unless he lets you in.”

“Right…..” the red head played with her knife, twisting it between her fingers skillfully. “Kyle, I … I really should talk to you in private later.”

“Whatever you have to say, you can do it in front of Y/N.”

“Nah.” Y/N shook her head “I’ll give you two a minute. I need to go to the bathroom either way.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Artemis eyed her apologetically.

“It’s all right. Just have your talk, I get it.” Oh, she did get it. Guilt was eating Artemis up and Y/N was definitely not going to be the one to sympathize with her. “Just let me know when you’re done.”

“You got it, pretty. I gotta take you back home safe after all.”

Y/N just send him a light smile and headed towards the bathroom, but before she could reach it, she felt a strong grip on her wrist and was dragged outside.

“What the fuck!?” she hissed, twisting her assaulter arm in a well-trained motion, but it backfired on her, once she noticed who the attacker was. “What the fuck, Jason!?”

“What are you doing with him!?”

“Why do you care?!”

“What are you doing with that pimp!?”

“Pimp?! Oh, I’m sorry, are you speaking from experience? Cause sure as hell you would recognize someone to do it that business.”

“Be careful with words now, princess.” Jason hissed

“Oh, you think you can scare me” she cooed “that is just so. damn. Cute. In case you didn’t notice things have changed. I’m not the helpless girl anymore. Dick….”

“Oh, I know what my brother did. I know he trained you and made you join Titans. Is that how you met Rayner? Are you going out with him now?’

“This is none of your damn business!” she yelled

“Isn’t it?” he hissed taking a step forward, pressing her into the building wall, trapping her between it and his body, her hands pinned on her sides.

“I can still kick your ass, you know.” she struggled against his grip. Damn it, he was strong, that one thing surely did not change.”

“Than do it, I dare you.” he mumbled into her ear and it made her shiver.

Focus Y/N - she thought to herself -remember what he did”

“how is it going with Artemis?” she kept her tone cool, not showing how his proximity was affecting her “she’s worried you don’t love her anymore, you know.” she pouted “such a shame. Wasting perfectly good relationship…. AUCH!” she yelled as Jason pressed her further into the wall, the cold stone hurting her back.

“Do you ever shut up?!” he hissed

“At least I’m running my mouth in all the right places!” she yelled trying to push him off “not where they should never wander!”

“How about I show you were they should wander.” His eyes glistened with lust and she shivered under the weight of it. Oh, hell no!

“Don’t even think about it!” she hissed, but he completely ignored her words, getting closer and closer to her face, his grip becoming iron clad, probably leaving bruises “GET THE FUCK OFF ME! KY….”

Before she could finish yelling the other guy’s name Jason’s lips were already on hers, moving rapidly, hungrily with the intensity that made her melt instantly. And hating herself for that. For a moment she was struggling to break free, but once his hands moved over to her waist, pressing her closer to him, wondering over her entire body, touching all the places only he knew about she completely gave up. Fuck, he just knew her body too well to even try to object. At the moment, her brain just stopped functioning, completely giving in to the desire he was igniting in her.

God, his mouth. His soft mouth, moving against her own, biting on the lower lip, causing her to moan involuntarily and let his tongue inside, exploring and claiming her.

“Jason…” she whined, fisting hands into his jacket, pulling him closer.

“Yes, princess. Keep saying my name. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you….” he tangled one hand in her hair, tilting her head and kissing her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and leaving a hickey. "Tell me….” He panted against her skin.

“I… I…..” she whimpered, still fighting not to give in completely, but slowly losing this fight “Fuck….” Poor girl could not hold back a whimper as Jason grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her into the wall once again, but this time making sure she did not feel any pain.

“Why did you came with that fucker, huh?” he mumbled playing with the hem of her shirt “out of every people on the planet it had to be him?” he grinded against her and damn, it reminded her of all the nights they spend together tangled in the sheets, when he was making her feel so good.

“Jace….” She moaned more, grabbing his neck and putting his mouth back down, kissing him back with desperation and need.

“You’re mine.” He hissed, letting go off her thigs, her whole weight leaning onto the wall as he started unzipping her pants “Fuck, you could have wear a skirt for once. But you know what, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Means you weren’t planning on doing anything with him.” He slid her pants and panties down a bit, putting her feet back onto the ground just to get them all the way to her ankles, getting on her knees in front of her, grabbing her ass now. “God I missed this. I missed you.” he breathed, kissing her leg up, slowly, tentatively, getting towards her inside thigh and stopping there for a second.

“Please…. “ she buckled her hips, head falling back and banging against the concrete. She didn’t care if anyone saw them here in quite compromising position. She needed him. She wanted him. She craved the way he always knew how to please her, how to satisfy her hunger “Please Jason….”

“What do you need princess?” he licked on her most sensitive part with the precision no one else could even begin to compete with and she let out that little kitten noise that always made him aware of how good he was doing. Jason Todd had a fucking praise kink and his pants were already tight. “tell me. You already got me on my knees, I’m listening.”

“I…I…. Ah! Jason!”

“Yes, princess?” he smirked, sucking on her clit “you’re so wet for me, and god, you taste just delicious….”

“I need you in me, now!”

“I got you covered.” He raised onto his feet, unzipping his own pants, ready for action, once again lifting her up, spreading her wide and pushing in. Fuck, he was fucking her in a public place and what spurred him on even more was that she let him. He made a mistake of ever letting her go. Of cheating on her. He would do everything to get her back, to make her forgive him, to come back into her life. Anything. Artemis might have been hot and good in bed, but Y/n and him shared a connection, a deep bond, they had history. Surely that must have meant something to her, right? Right?

They were going to talk later and he would explain everything, begging for her but as for now all the was focused on was making her cum, reminding her how good he could make her feel. He. No one else. Not Rayner or any other fucker. He. Jason Todd. The one bound to her, left at her mercy.

God, she felt so good, so tight, so warm around him when he was snapping his hips against her, getting lost in all the sweet sounds she was making for him.

“Baby….” He whispered kissing her with undeniable passion ‘you’re mine….. you’re only mine. Say it. Tell me you still love me. ” he begged slowly losing his mind over the sensations

“I…. Ah! Don’t stop. Jace. Fuck, don’t stop” she pressed herself onto him, picking up the pace, fire inside her begging to be released. “Please, please, oh, please, Jace.” He nails dig into his back and he welcomed that familiar pain.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

“So… close… “ she panted, her breath ragged.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Make you cum so fast, so hard. No one else. Not a one-night stand and definitely not Rayner.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as he finally took her over the edge, her orgasm overwhelming her whole, her body shaking in his arms as he held her tight, caressing her back and sides, whispering praises and sweet nothings into her ear, following soon after, coming inside her. What he didn’t know was that she screamed not only because of the intensity of the orgasm, but also because she realized Kyle was still inside the diner. With Artemis. Artemis with whom Jason cheated Y/N on.

Fuck, he made a terrible mistake.

“Princess” Jason mumbled, still bemused by claiming her like this, pretty sure now that he made her come they would talk and clear things out “I love you….”

“Fuck you, Todd!” much to his surprise she pushed him away, tear gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t …. What….?”

“You fucking idiot! You stupid scumbag!” she cried out, bending for her pants and panties and putting them back on. God, she fell for him again. stupid, stupid, stupid

“Baby….” He reached for her cheek, but she slapped his hand hard

“Get away from me! I’m warning you.”

“But I …. I….. I want you back….” He stuttered “I’m sorry for what I did, I am. Losing you made me realize…”

“Oh just shut the fuck up. You used me. Again .That’s all it was. And fuck, I let you. And hey, you just cheated on your girl, who you previously cheated with. Funny, isn’t it?” she smiled sourly, wiping away the tears. “Guess the history repeat itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Anyway, I am going home….”

“At least let me take you.” his eyes were futilely searching hers “We can talk when you calm down, baby.

“Talk!?” she snapped “I don’t ever, ever, ever, want to see you again! And I can go by myself, definitely not with you. Good luck explaining to Kyle and …. Her… where I went.” She turned on her feet, angrily walking away.

He fucked up. Again .

***

“Dick…..” she showed up on her best friend’s doorstep, shaking, crying, freezing to death.

“Y/N? What happened?” Dick instantly pull her into his chest and inside, rubbing her back just to warm her up a bit.

“I…. I did something terrible. I… I let….”

“Shh…” Dick cooed “breathe. Just breathe, all right? I’ll get you something to drink, you will take a shower and some rest and then tell me, ok?”

“O.. ok…” she stuttered

“Whatever happened, whatever Jason did to you, I’m here. I’ll help you.”

“How….how do you know…..?”

“I know you are not shaking like that because of Kyle. He’s a prick but he wouldn’t hurt you. My brother on the other side…” he shook his head “I guess I will have to kill him.”

“No, please, just stay with me.” She clung onto him desperately searching for safety and reassurance "I don;t want to be alone...." her sob was just so terrible it made Dick tighten the hug.

“I’m not going anywhere. At least for now…..”

To be continued?

499 notes · View notes

thatfeelinwhenyou · 1 month

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KINDRED — 40 (finale)

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

written (2.7k words)

❥･• episode 40 — her entire being is lovable

The week after Jungwon’s competition, the two of you slip back into the usual programming of studying together after school, despite the documentary having ceased filming. It's a curious irony, isn't it? Now liberated from the suffocating grip of your mother's expectations, free to pursue your own desires, yet you find yourself still tethered to your books, for she was right when she says you can’t go anywhere without decent grades.

You also don’t know what else to do in school besides studying. The library, with its quiet embrace, has become your refuge, a familiar haven and a place where you seek clarity amidst the chaotic excuse you call your current predicament. With your resignation as student body president, all that remains is the race against time until your college entrance exams.

"Y/N, sorry for being late!" Jungwon's voice breaks through the quiet murmur of the library as he settles beside you in your customary corner. You offer him a shy smile, basking in the familiar scent of his cologne that wraps around you like a comforting blanket.

"I finished a whole chapter waiting for you," you tease gently, knowing full well that he'll feel a twinge of guilt for keeping you waiting, only for you to feel bad for making him feel bad. And now you’re both feeling guilty and he’s demanding a kiss from you to make up for it.

"I never took you for the clingy type in a relationship, Yang Jungwon," you chuckle softly, playfully pushing a finger against his forehead to halt any public displays of affection in the holy vicinity of a public library.

"Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d be rejecting my attempts at showering you with love when we’re a whole fortnight into dating," he pouts, his bag dropping to the seat beside you with a sullen thud. If one other thing did change aside from your relationship status, it would be the fact that Jungwon no longer sits across from you, but beside you. He insists it’s for practicality's sake, which to a certain extent you agree.

Truth be told, Jungwon just finds it distracting to be directly across from you, where he was in full capacity to be distracted by the beautiful features of your face. Not that the new arrangement helped anyway when he is still constantly reaching for your hand to hold, a silent plea for your touch that you gladly reciprocate.

“Why did the teacher hold you back anyway?”

"Couldn't believe my math grades improved so much; he thought I cheated on the recent quiz. Never thought I was doing so badly to make him doubt me that much."

"I mean… you were pretty horrendous," you quip with a grin, nudging him playfully. "Emphasis on ‘were’!" you add, teasingly, knowing he won't take it too seriously. He proves you right as he scoffs at your candid assessment of his past academic struggles. After all, deep down, you both know there's some truth to it...

"We have that final confessional with Producer Choi later today, right?"

"Yeah, can’t believe two months just flew by like that. Feels like just yesterday we were agreeing to only pretend to like each other." You snicker softly, sensing the irony in the situation now that you and Jungwon are in an official (not fake) relationship.

The irony is not lost on Jungwon as you catch his silent smile, knowing he, too, is lost in the memories of that pivotal moment, where pretence gave way to something real and profound.

"What's to say I'm not pretending right now?" Jungwon raises an eyebrow, eliciting an exaggerated gasp from you.

"Are you suggesting you still hate me?" you exclaim, feigning offence and playfully inching away from him on your chair. Jungwon's reaction is immediate, grabbing onto you as he pleads for you to stay, insisting he was only joking.

"So, you don’t hate me?" you inquire with mock seriousness.

"No, I would never!" He envelops you in a sideways hug, leaving you in a precarious position where, without his support, you'd probably topple off the chair, earning judgmental stares from every library patron within a half-mile radius.

With his arm around you, you gaze up at the finely sculpted features of his face, marvelling at how you ever found this man annoying in the first place. As Jungwon's fingers toy with the strands of thread hanging off your uniform blazer, a comfortable silence settles between you.

“When’s your confessional?” Jungwon's question breaks the serene silence, prompting you to glance at the clock and realise the time constraints you're under.

"I'll have to leave soon if I don’t want to be late. Your confessional is right after mine, yeah?" you confirm, already mentally preparing to make your move.

"Yep, I’ll meet you at the gate after, and we could go for some snacks!" Jungwon suggests with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Is this another one of your tricks to feed me into a coma so we don’t have to study?" you quip, raising an eyebrow in playful scepticism.

Jungwon feigns innocence, his grin widening. "Who, me? Never!" he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You chuckle, knowing full well his penchant for indulging in snacks whenever the opportunity arises. But as you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but look forward to the prospect of spending some more time with Jungwon, even if it means indulging in a few too many treats along the way.

You arrive promptly at the confessional venue, positioned strategically in the field right by the entrance of the school so the logo can be seen clearly in the background. This meant people, a lot of them, stopping nearby to watch and observe the commotion as it's not every day you get to see a whole camera crew in the front yard of your school.

Spotting Producer Choi among the crew members, you make your way over and exchange greetings. "Y/N! It’s been a while, hasn't it?" she exclaims with a warm smile.

"It has," you reply, returning her smile as you exchange pleasantries with the familiar faces of the cameramen stationed around you.

"It felt weird not seeing you around after having seen you almost every day for the last 2 months. Strangely enough, I kind of missed it," you admit, though you sense a hint of scepticism in Producer Choi’s eyes, as she knows damn well you were the most excited for this documentary to end.

With a gesture from Producer Choi, you settle into the stool in front of the cameras, and the familiarity of the setting washes over you. It's strange how quickly this space has become a second home over the past few months, filled with the laughter of the crew members who have become like family. With that thought in mind, you mentally ready yourself to share your thoughts and reflections on the journey you've embarked on.

"First of all, thank you, Y/N, for agreeing to be a part of this documentary," Producer Choi begins as the camera lights turn red. You nod in response, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursing through you.

"Let’s start by having you share with the viewers how you felt about this journey," Producer Choi prompts, her voice gentle yet probing.

"Well, it’s not easy, that’s for sure," you begin, your words flowing more easily now that you've found your rhythm. "It was an experience that urged me to step out of my comfort zone and explore beyond a routine that I was already used to. It was difficult, no doubt, but the friendships that I’ve made along the way made this whole journey worthwhile. If I were to go back in time, I would do it again."

Producer Choi nods encouragingly, her eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "If that’s so, tell us the most important thing you gained from this documentary."

"This experience was precious to me in many other ways than one," you continue, your voice growing more animated as you recall the memories. "But if I were to point out the most important thing I gained out of this documentary, it would be myself. It’s a little cringy, I know. It still amazes me how much I managed to change in this short period of time. But you know what they say, the best discovery starts within you, and you best believe I discovered."

The camera captures the sincerity in your eyes, the raw emotion shining through as you speak from the heart; a genuine reflection of your growth and transformation throughout the journey.

"Throughout the airing of ‘Kindred,’ the show has gained immense popularity among both domestic and global viewers, why do you think so?" Producer Choi asks, her tone shifting to a more analytical one.

"Honestly, the documentary was able to do well all thanks to Jungwon," you respond with a chuckle, thinking of your ever-charismatic boyfriend. "Without Jungwon, I genuinely think you guys would have produced the most yawn-bearing documentary to date. I acknowledge my lack of entertainment wits. There is also the whole strange pairing between Jungwon and I, even I admit that I’d be interested to find out how our very unique dynamics would work with each other."

The crew members share a knowing smile, having witnessed firsthand the magnetic chemistry between you and Jungwon that has captivated audiences around the world. It's a testament to the power of authenticity and genuine connection, something that can't be manufactured or scripted.

"Speaking about Jungwon, how has your relationship with him changed throughout the show?" Producer Choi inquires, her curiosity piqued.

"Jungwon is really special to me," you admit, a soft smile gracing your lips as you think of him. "I’m glad I got to properly know him through this experience. I’ll forever be grateful to ‘Kindred’ for bringing him into my life."

"Seems like there's something more to it, but I won't pry! But now that you’re graduating soon, what’s next?" Producer Choi prompts, her tone shifting to one of anticipation.

"Hmm… I’m not sure," you confess, feeling a pang of uncertainty creep in. "Ironic since you’d expect the girl with perfect grades to know what she wants to do. But I’m still working on that. Although, tutoring Jungwon made me realise how much I actually love teaching. May or may not consider pursuing it in the future, but we’ll see. I’m not in a rush anyway."

"Lastly, is there anything you want to say to the viewers of ‘Kindred’?"

"To all the viewers of Kindred, thank you for all the support and attention you gave us!" you exclaim, genuine gratitude shining in your eyes. "I’m glad you found some sort of joy going through this journey with Jungwon and I. It’s an experience I’ll hold close to my heart forever."

As the final words leave your lips, you can't help but feel a sense of closure wash over you. This chapter of your life, filled with ups and downs, laughter and tears, is coming to an end. But as you look back on the memories you've created and the relationships you've forged, you know that the impact of this experience will stay with you for a lifetime.

"By the way, will Jungwon be doing his interview here too?" you ask, curiosity tugging at you.

"Why of course," Producer Choi replies with a smile.

"Can I watch?" you inquire, eager to see Jungwon in the hot seat for a change.

"You don’t see Jungwon here now, do you? We got to play it fair, Y/N," she says with a wink as she scurries you away from the film site, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for Jungwon’s answers now that you know the questions that were being asked.

"What was your answer to the question?" you grab onto his arms, shaking it relentlessly trying to get him to fold, even equipping your signature puppy eyes. Jungwon, however, continues to chew on his food that both of you bought off a random street cart, and is now seated at the very same bench where you shared your first kiss.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” you consider revealing your answers but decide against it when you think back to your responses and visibly cringe.

Jungwon, ever the enigmatic one, simply smirks, his lips curling into a playful grin. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he toys with you, taking another casual bite of his street food as if your inquiry were nothing more than a fleeting thought.

You roll your eyes, knowing damn well the game he's playing. This teasing banter, a familiar exchange between the two of you, only adds to the playful dynamic of your relationship. But deep down, you can't help but wonder what his answer might have been.

“I guess we’ll only know when they broadcast it,” you shrug, resigning to the mystery as you lean your head on his shoulders. The warmth of his presence beside you, and the gentle rhythm of his breathing, all serve as a comforting anchor amidst the bustling street around you.

As Jungwon reaches over to play with the strands of your hair, a comfortable silence washes over you. The sound of distant chatter and the occasional honking of car horns fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of tranquillity.

With a playful smile, you reach up to gently swat at Jungwon's hand, feigning annoyance. "Stop messing with my hair," you tease, though secretly enjoying the attention. Jungwon chuckles, his warm breath brushing against your cheek as he leans in closer.

"But it's so fun," he counters, his voice a mere whisper. You roll your eyes playfully, unable to contain your grin. "You're lucky I like you," you retort, leaning into his touch despite your mock protest.

Jungwon's laughter fills the air, a melodious sound that resonates deep within you. His genuine joy is contagious, spreading warmth and happiness with every moment you share.

"I know," Jungwon replies with a smirk, tightening his hold around you. "And I'm lucky to have you." You smile to yourself, the warmth of Jungwon's words enveloping you like a soft embrace. His ability to express his feelings so openly still catches you off guard at times, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed.

"You know, you have a way with words," you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Jungwon's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Only when I'm talking to you," he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.

The sincerity in his words touches something deep within you, stirring a gentle flutter of emotions in your chest. Despite any doubts or uncertainties that may linger, there's a sense of reassurance in knowing that Jungwon is by your side, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

You never fully comprehended why you felt so connected to Jungwon in the first place. Sure, you could say that anybody in your position—forced to film a documentary 24/7 with a decent-looking boy (though you’d rather die than admit this back then)—you were bound to catch feelings.

To you, Jungwon is more than just a forced proximity crush; he's an anomaly in your otherwise stoic and academic-focused life. An anomaly that got you so frustrated trying to figure out why he’s such a constant pain in your ass. An anomaly that introduced you to the world outside of the one your mother delicately crafted for you—holding you to unrealistic expectations that she knew damn well you could never meet no matter how much you tried.

He helped you understand that this life is a journey that you shape. That no matter what, mistakes are inevitable. You can give your everything and still somehow manage to fuck things up along the way. Yet, the beauty lies in the way you get to decide how you’re going to fuck up. And there’s no one you’d rather navigate these missteps with than Jungwon.

And while many would assume that a student body president with good grades and a Taekwondo athlete who can't study to save his life would never go well together, these assumptions are proven to be false as you realise the many similarities you share with Jungwon. Like how either of you will do anything for the people you care about and for the things you wish to achieve. You could say the two of you are Kindred.

As you rest against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, you can't help but marvel at the depth of your connection, forged through peculiar circumstances.

With him, it doesn’t matter who you want or need to be.

With him, life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: aaaaand that marks the end of kindred!! i have so much i want to say but i'll save it for when the epilogue comes out! in short, thank you so much to everyone who stuck till the end despite my super irregular posting schedule... 🫣 until next time!

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt

taglist! @uuzhanggggggg @aloloveswonie @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @i-yeseo @plutoslostagain @haqzm @ilovejungwonandhaechan

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

Text

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 2

Note: slight allusion of SA all i do is think about the past

You did consider calling out sick, but it’s Friday and you can just stare at your screen for eight hours and then sleep for two straight days.

You’re making the trek from your car to the office and you’re absolutely positive you look like hell. Sure, your hair and makeup is done, but there’s no masking the exhaustion in your bones. You drag yourself through the door and past everyone else headed to their various workstations, including Roy and a confused Jamie.

“Oi, porch girl, what’re you doing here?” Jamie asks. Roy smacks him on the back of the head.

“She fucking works here, you twat.”

You don’t point out that you’ve literally run into him twice, and maybe count it a blessing that he doesn’t remember you. Instead, you nod wearily and head to your desk.

It’s a fairly easygoing day, and you decide to take a late lunch. You’re halfway through your meal, absorbed in chewing each bite thoroughly and not falling asleep, when you hear someone call your name from the doorway. You look up to see Jamie standing and fiddling with his shirt.

“Do you even talk?” he asks, no preamble.

“What?” you say, confused. You realize you actually haven’t said much to him in any of your interactions other than “sorry.”

“Oh,” you reply, “yeah, I do. I’m just tired, is all. Neurons aren’t firing at full capacity and all that.”

Jamie nods. “Just wanted make sure you were all right. Got your name from one of the blokes across the hall, cuz we can’t keep calling you ‘porch girl.’ Anyway, are you?”

You half-laugh. “Yeah, can’t you tell? I’m obviously doing great.”

Jamie’s face morphs from concern to slight offence.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you hasten to continue. “I haven’t slept well all week, and it’s made me snippy. I wasn’t- it’s not about you. I just can’t quite think straight.”

Jamie nods again. “Right,” he says, “don’t think that’s healthy. Coach is always on me for rest days. Maybe you need one too.”

You shrug. “I mean, that probably works for you because you’re on a footballer’s salary. I don’t really have time for personal days aside from the weekend. There’s stuff to be done and bills to pay, so…” you trail off as you realize you’ve spoken unfiltered again.

“Anyway,” you say, fake smile plastered on your face, “thanks for checking in. See you around.”

Jamie takes his cue and leaves.

—

Why did you think you’d be able to sleep better on the weekend? You don’t know. Girls’ night is officially a no-go, so you’re trying to wear yourself out with some yoga. Sometimes physical exertion helps, but you can barely think straight enough to get in the correct positions. You’re going to cry again, and probably have to call your doctor because this can’t be normal. You just wish your brain would shut up long enough for you to rest.

You drag yourself out of bed and to the kitchen for a cup of tea. At least you’ll get to see a gorgeous sunrise.

—

You’re not positive when you fell asleep, but you did. You had a dream of someone’s strong arms around you carrying you from the steps to your bed. The dream lingers as you slowly blink your eyes open and realize that you actually are in your bed.

How did you get here? You know for an absolute fact that you are not a sleepwalker, nor did you wake up in between passing out in your front yard and now. You didn’t get yourself here, so who did?

The flat is quiet, and light is peeking in through the curtains. You check your phone to see if maybe one of your friends had helped you inside, but there’s no text letting you know. You frown. Maybe you’re just going insane.

You roll out of bed and grab your robe, then stop in front of your door. There’s a sticky note right at eye-level that says, don’t freak out, I’m in your kitchen. - Jamie (from work)

Oh shit.

You frantically run your fingers through your hair then fly down the stairs to find Jamie on his back on your couch, scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and says, “Wotcher,” completely unfazed. He swings his legs onto the floor and sits up.

“Let me explain,” he says as you gape at him. “I was on a run without Roy, and saw you asleep on your steps. Figured you’d want to be left alone after last time. But then I came by later on me way back and saw your door was cracked open. So I helped you upstairs and then stayed here with the door locked so no fuckin’ creeps would come in. You really should lock your door,” he continues, “Never know what sort are lurking ‘round.”

You’re still staring at him, uncomprehending. Jamie frowns. “Shit, didn’t mean to overstep. Just- you didn’t look so good and I thought it’d be better for you to sleep. And we’re not like, fucking strangers are we? Shit, I’m sorry.”

That snaps you out of it. “No!” you reply. “No, we’re not strangers. And it wasn’t… weird. It wasn’t weird. It’s just nice, which is why I was having trouble responding. I mean sure, this is the longest we’ve ever talked without me tripping over air, but you’re not- I mean, I don’t feel unsafe around you. You’re not that type of person.”

Jamie’s phone is away and his hands are tangled in his shirt. You wonder if it’s a nervous response.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he says after a pause. “Maybe go back to sleep, yeah?”

You nod. “You want a cuppa before you go?”

Jamie hesitates, which is different from the flat-out no you expected. Finally he says, “Nah, should probably get going. Don’t want me hanging ‘round longer than needed, innit?”

You’re not really sure how to respond to that, but Jamie doesn’t give you a chance to before he’s down the front steps and out the gate.

Damn it.

—

The not-dream of Jamie’s arms carrying you to bed is much more comforting than the dreams you usually have. The ones where you’re suffocating under a blanket and everything is cold and slimy and you’re screaming and screaming, but no one takes notice.

You wonder if it can actually be classified as a dream, or if it’s more of a memory?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter because you push it down. No sense in thinking about it in the daylight when it’s sure to haunt you at night.

—

It’s embarrassing to see Jamie at Nelson Road, so you avoid him if you can. He certainly knows who you are now, and the few times you have accidentally made eye contact have been painful. Each time, he’s looked at you with the same completely indiscernible gaze, the one that makes your face heat up and slip out of whatever room your in. You successfully avoid conversations for four days, but he finds his way to your office on Friday.

“You good?” he says as he walks in without knocking and sits unceremoniously in the chair opposite you.

“Yes..?” you reply, unsure why he’s even here. You don’t forget that he’s Jamie Tartt, star striker and really should have no interest in you, like at all.

“Cool,” he says, still sitting sideways in the chair. You wonder if he’s capable of sitting normally.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment before you say, “Not trying to be rude, but why are you here?”

Jamie scrunches up his face. “Wanted to know why you were avoiding me and to apologize for it. Whatever it was, I didn’t fucking mean it.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you say aloud, “no, you didn’t do anything. It’s me. All of our interactions have been supremely embarrassing, so I figured if we don’t talk, I can’t get embarrassed.”

Jamie nods in understanding. “That’s proper shit,” he says.

You never know how to respond to half the things this boy says, so you just settle on, “Ok,” then go back to typing.

“You got any allergies?” Jamie’s voice breaks the silence again and startles you into a typo. You delete it and look up at him.

“No?” you reply, confused.

Jamie laughs. “Why’d you say it like a question? You unsure if you’re fucking allergic to something?”

For a moment you think he’s taking the piss, but there’s genuine amusement in his eyes as you shrug.

“I don’t know, it’s just how I talk. Why do you want to know if I have any allergies?”

Jamie rummages in one of his jacket pockets and plops a box down on your desk. “Mum said this is the best tea for insomnia. Figured out you can’t fucking sleep so I called her and asked. She used to make it when I was a lad and bouncing off the walls, like. Thought it might help.”

This is the second time Jamie has done something just plain nice for you, and it’s freaking you out a little bit. It feels… uneven. Wrong, maybe.

“How much was it?” you ask in an attempt to settle the score. “I have cash in a drawer.”

Jamie scrunches his face again. “You don’t fucking owe me for this shit,” he says. “Ted’s always on us about ‘doing things we want done without fucking hoping some shit in return.’ Only he didn’t say ‘fuck,’ or ‘shit.’”

You’ve seen Ted. You know how he is.

“Well, thanks,” you reply. “It means a lot. I’ll try it and let you know.”

Jamie grins, a great beaming smile that warms you from your chest all the way to your fingertips.

“Mint,” he says before bounding out the door.

—

The tea actually helped. Or maybe it was just the fact that someone was thinking about you, doing something without expecting a favor in return. Whatever the case, you don’t end up on the porch. Sure, your sleep is still jacked up, but not as much as before. It’s restless, but it’s a sleep void of dreams.

—

You report back to Jamie the next day, and he takes it like a personal challenge. A mission of sorts. He’s in your office every other day with some remedy or the other, all for the sake of helping you sleep.

One day it’s, “Dani said if you put these plants under your pillow, you’ll sleep like you’re dead.”

“They’re herbs, Jamie.”

Or, “Richard has this oil thingy from France and he says you’ll sleep like a baby.”

You bite your tongue to keep from pointing out that babies don’t sleep well.

Or another time, “Coach said if you burned this in like a bowl or some shit it’ll cleanse your aura I guess? His girlfriend uses it, I think it smells fucking nasty.”

You both shudder. Coach Beard is nice, but his girlfriend certainly is a character.

You try everything and report back the next day. Jamie has taken to asking you to stick your head into the locker room so that the team can hear each verdict. They still don’t really know who you are, but they’re invested in this challenge. They’re sweet, and it’s funny to start your day with their cheers of success or groans of disappointment. You think the best was when Richard made a comment about certain aerobic exercise that might tire you out and Jamie had a murderous look on his face. You’re not sure what the look means, but you did bring it up ever-so casually at the next girls’ night.

“He thinks you’re hot, babe,” says Jessica once the squeals have died down.

“No way,” you reply. “Impossible.”

Evelyn shakes her head. “I have to agree with Jess on this one. He’s into you.”

Your protests are lost amid another round of giggles, and you let yourself believe them for a single moment before quenching that stupid little spark that’s beginning to burn brighter in your chest.

Table of Contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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infamous-if · 8 months

Note

Sorry for my two asks re: genre yesterday, I wasn't trying to cause trouble. Headcanon isn't something that comes naturally to me so my instinct was to be confused and annoyed, I now understand that is a me problem, not a game problem. Sorry for any offence or upset I've caused, I really didn't mean to, I was wrong.

Hey! There’s no need to beat yourself up about it. It was a valid question and people are allowed to have their critiques. I promise it doesn’t bother me if someone has a different view than I do.

You were respectful, and that’s all I ask! You don’t have to be apologetic and say you were wrong. There was nothing you did that was wrong. You shared your thoughts and I replied, and we had a productive conversation.

No need to apologize! I hope you didn’t think I was angry at you or anything, I promise I wasn’t! I just avoid trying to be humorous because I want to make sure people know I’m taking them seriously/not making fun of them :)

#inbox

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sarahpaulsonsoftie · 9 months

Text

(Not such a) Bad Idea

Larissa Weems X reader-

Songfic based on bad idea by girl in red, loosely. Reader is a final year university student and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the free Wi-Fi). Larissa is the principal of Nevermore academy and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the peace and quiet).

Two dumb gays in love and Marilyn meddles.

Huge thank you to @h-doodles who majorly helped me with the plotline with this one. Honestly cannot thank you enough, I hope it meets your expectations :) <3

It was a typical Thursday Morning for you, early enough for the Weathervane to be open, which meant you could claim a booth and work on your thesis statement. Typically, the weathervane was a quite café but for some reason, today it was packed and there was no seating available elsewhere.

Just as you had frequented the café, there was also an extremely tall lady, with ocean blue eyes and always wearing pristine clothing. You would often catch her eyes and she would smile at you, which would make you feel like you were going to faint. God, to see that smile in the morning would give you enough motivation to get through the day, and you would yearn for it long after she was gone.

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned her, in she stepped, noticing how busy it was and she approached the counter, giving her order. Her order is placed in front of her, and you notice her eyes wander around the café and eventually her eyes lock with yours.

You do your best to hide the fact you were staring by turning your focus onto your laptop, a flush growing on your cheeks.

“Hello.” You hear a British accent say and you look up, almost fainting because the woman who you had just been staring at has approached you. Oh my god, she’s British. “Is there any chance I could share a booth with you? Its quite busy in here today.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course, I don’t mind!” You say, probably too enthaustically, but she doesn’t comment and instead you decide to offer up your name “I’m Y/N.” You smile.

The woman smiles wider at you, “Larissa.” She returns, and you feel your face flush. Oh my god, even her name is ethereal. You grin as you turn back and begin to type away.

Moment’s pass, before your eyes raise to see Larissa watching you curiously, and you feel yourself blushing. Larissa takes a sip of her drink before nodding her head to your laptop.

“What are you working on?” Larissa enquires, as her eyes crinkle with her smile. You nearly stop breathing at the realization that she’s speaking to you.

“Me? Oh, uhm, nothing interesting, just my thesis statement for Uni.” You smile and Larissa rolls her eyes lightly with a smirk.

“Of course, it’s not interesting, otherwise you wouldn’t be staring at me every time I come in.” Larissa teases and you feel your ears grow hot, and your eyes grow wide in shock.

“Oh, sorry! I mean no offence!” You say urgently, realizing you’re probably embarrassing yourself even. You try to focus back on your laptop, hoping the floor will swallow you up. Larissa lightly pushes your laptop so its half closed.

“Oh, believe me, it’s quite the compliment actually.” She states with a smile before chuckling. “Gosh, its going to sound rather silly but sometimes, I hope to see you staring to figure out if I’ve made the right outfit choice.”

You’re certain if you blush anymore, you will faint. “Oh, I bet you’d still look good in a trash bag.” You manage to say before you can stop yourself and Larissa chuckles, and you smile yourself.

“Well, Y/N, thank you for that wonderful insight. I’m sure my wardrobe will thank you.” Larissa smiles before checking her watch. “I suppose it’s time for me to leave. Goodluck with your thesis, Y/N.”

Larissa stands to leave and begins to turn away and looks at you again, “You’ll be here tomorrow?” She asks and all you can do is nod.

Friday morning couldn’t have come quicker for you, and you excitedly sit down in your booth, jittering with excitement as you see Larissa enter. You lock eyes with her, and she smiles at you from across the café. You open your laptop and at least try to pretend that you are focused on something other than her.

Larissa grabs her order and sits opposite you in your booth, and you smile at each other.

“Morning.” You smile, looking up from your laptop and Larissa is wearing a sage green dress with a golden chain necklace, complete with a golden watch and you swear you can faint. “I suppose you didn’t feel like wearing a trash bag today, huh?” You joke, your face flushing.

Larissa chuckles lightly and she has you enchanted by the sound. She takes a sip from a drink as she raises her brow at you.

“Oh please, you’re too nice to me.” Larissa states and you take a sip of your own coffee before you close your laptop. Larissa looks at you questioningly, “Off for the day?”

“Oh, no. I’m gonna be here for a while but there’s no point in pretending anything else has my attention when you’re sitting in front of me.” You grin, you have no idea where the confidence has come from, but you decide that since Larissa has decided to sit with you for a second time, it’s the confidence you need.

Larissa chuckles again and smirks at you again. “Careful, you might convince me to never leave.”

You grin at her cheekily, you’re sure your cheeks are flushed but you decide to ignore and begin to speak, “you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Perhaps I don’t want you to.” You say, and Larissa smiles before taking another sip.

“You never told me what your thesis was on.” She states and shuffles somewhat close to you, and you look down at your laptop before looking back up at her.

“Like I said yesterday, nothing too interesting. But I’m currently writing about Rene Descartes influence on modern philosophy, seeing as some consider him the father of modern philosophy.” You say and roll your eyes.

“Ah, and this does not interest you?” Larissa questions, her hands finding themselves onto the table.

“It’s not so much that it doesn't interest me, but I am not too keen on modern philosophies, I know, I know, they paved the way for society today, especially with the way he connected geometry and Algebra, but I suppose at heart, I’m more of an ancient Greek gal.” You say with a light grin, and Larissa looks intently at you, a light smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m boring you.” You say, and Larissa’s hand reaches out to touch your arm.

“No, I find it quite refreshing how passionate you are.” Larissa states and her hand doesn’t move from your arm, you grin up at her.

“Soo, what about you? What do you do?” You ask and Larissa smiles a tight smile before looking up at you.

“I’m the principal of Nevermore academy.” She says proudly and she watches as your eyebrows furrow together, and she removes her hand from your arm, anticipating some sort of backlash.

“Nevermore? I don’t think I’ve—Oh! Nevermore, the academy for outcasts? Wait, sorry, is outcast the right word? I dunno if I got that right, erm but yeah, I’m sorry if that’s offensive! But also, principal? That’s awesome!” You say, and watch as Larissa breathes a sigh of relief, and you eye her curiously.

“Yes, outcast is the correct term. Although, some would not consider it ‘awesome’, but I suppose that’s their problem.” Larissa states and you look at her.

“Some people just like hating people.” You state, “Like how some people hate me cause I’m gay, but I think that sort of hate just makes you more accepting. But you being the principal of Nevermore academy is awesome.” You smile comfortingly, as you place your hand hesitantly onto Larissa’s.

Larissa checks her watch and frowns before looking at you. “I’m sorry, darling but its time for me to go back to the academy.” Larissa says before standing, “May I see your phone?” She asks and you nod, handing her your unlocked phone, she types in something before handing it back to you with a smile.

“You have my number now, message me if you get bored with your thesis. I hope I can help with the boredom.” Larissa smiles, hesitating slightly before placing a kiss on your cheek. She then begins to leave, looking over her shoulder before waving with a smile.

Okay, so she called you darling, and then kissed your cheek, and THEN gave you, her number. You can die happily now.

You submit your thesis statement draft Friday evening and take out your phone to find the contact Larissa saved. You click onto it and begin to type out a message.

‘I submitted my thesis draft.’ You type and send almost immediately, excited to finally have a reason to message Larissa.

You see the read icon almost immediately and then the typing icon. You stay on the chat and watch intently as the typing icon appears and disappears three times before the message comes through.

‘Does this mean I won’t see your beautiful face in the morning now?’ Is the response and you squeal, squeal. Squeal at the response. You begin to type out your response.

‘No, luckily for you, and unluckily for me, it was only the draft, I still have to submit the real thing ☹’ You type back ‘Plenty of boredom on my part still, and many mornings left in the weathervane.’

‘I suppose you’re not too busy to attend the Harvest festival with me next weekend?’ Is what Larissa says and you swear you feel as if you can faint, this woman is too much and you love it.

‘only if you promise I can win you a prize.’ You respond and there is a grin on your face.

The weekend and week pass quite quickly and eventually the day of the harvest festival arrives. You and Larissa had been in the Weathervane nearly every single morning, except for Sunday, because you decided to take the day to have a break, due to Larissa’s encouragement.

You are dressed already, after much changing and tweaking but you decided on your final outfit change that it would have to do otherwise you would drive yourself crazy.

You pull out your phone and begin to type out a message to Larissa ‘hey, did you want to meet out front?’

You place your shoes on and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You look to see Larissa has messaged ‘Nonsense, I’m outside yours, we can walk there together.’

Your stomach does butterflies as you almost sprint to your front door and open it and see Larissa standing there holding two cups of coffee. You shut your door as you look up at her and nearly choke on your own breath.

She’s wearing a light green dress that cuts off just off above her knee, hugging her in all the right places, and a matching jacket, her hair pinned up in its usual pristine style.

“Hi.” You say, nervously shuffling on your feet and Larissa smiles lightly before stepping closer and handing you your coffee before kissing you on your cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiles, as she pulls back. Your cheeks feel hot, and you look up at her through your eyelashes. “You look absolutely divine.”

“Me?” You manage to say, before looking down at your feet, “What about you?” You ask.

Larissa’s hand cups underneath your chin, as she brings your eyes up to meet hers, a smirk playing on her lips “Where’s the shyness come from, darling? Did I make the right outfit choice?”

“You look like a goddess.” You say, and Larissa grins down at you. You move your eyes away from hers and Larissa lets go of your chin.

“A goddess? That’s a new one.” She smiles and takes your hand into hers as you begin to walk. “Is that from all your university study? Is that where you’ve learnt to sweet talk?”

“Oh, no, it’s not sweet talk if it’s the truth.” You smile shyly up at Larissa and she grins at you, before taking a sip of her own coffee.

It’s a few hours into the night and you and Larissa have been endlessly flirting, lingering touches, longing looks.

You manage to catch a glimpse of a game booth that would let you win prizes, and you grab Larissa’s hand and excitedly pull her towards it, and you look back at her with a grin.

“I believe I promised to win you a prize.” You say and Larissa’s arm wraps around your shoulder.

“You don’t have spend so much time trying to win me a prize, when you’re already here next to me.” Larissa states and you look at her, and bite your lip, trying to ignore the heat that flushed throughout your body.

“I promised.” You repeat and Larissa’s eyes soften as she lets you wander off to the stall. She watches as you speak to the man running the booth and laugh along with him, and you look back towards her with a grin. She’s standing a distance away from you, not wanting to approach, content in watching your excitement.

She watches as the man hands you the throwing balls and you throw the first one, knocking down nearly half off the cans down. She watches as you grin and look back towards her and Larissa cannot help the yearn in her heart.

Your second throw leaves only one can left, and she watches how your tongue sticks out in concentration on your last throw and Larissa grins as you get the last can on the last throw, you jump excitedly and the man running the booth allows you to pick out your prize.

You throw another glance towards Larissa with a smile as you pick out your prize, her prize, and hide it behind your back as you make your way back towards her.

“That was impressive.” Larissa grins and you look up at her with a huge smile. You move your hands from behind your back, showing two matching bear keychains.

“I picked this cause, even if I’m not with you, or you’re not with me, you’ll see it and be reminded of me.” You say and hold out one to her, keeping the other for yourself.

Larissa doesn’t say anything as she takes the keychain from your hand and stares at for a moment before her hand is on your cheek and crashing your lips together.

You respond to the kiss immediately, and Larissa’s hands find your hips before she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours.

“I think we should go back to yours.” She says, slightly out of breath and you nod in agreement, speechless over this woman.

When you wake the next morning, Larissa’s arms are wrapped around your waist and you smile softly before checking the time. 07:04am. You shuffle so you’re facing Larissa and she looks even more beautiful than you could have imagined. Her hair is undone from it’s usual style, laying bare into the pillows underneath it, her face is bare from any makeup and you’re close enough to see every freckle that has graced her face.

Larissa stirs slightly before opening her eyes and looking at you. “Morning, sweetheart.” She says, her voice laced in sleep. Her hand reaches up to your cheek and she places a light kiss to your lips. “Do you know what the time is?”

“Oh, its just passed 7.” You say, leaning into Larissa’s touch. Larissa’s eyes widen in shock before she’s making her way out your bed quickly, speeding to pick up her clothes that are strewn about from the previous. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting with the mayor at 8! Did you see where I put my phone?” She asks and you take it from the nightstand and hand it to her. “Thank you.”

There is a slight nervousness to her nature that you shrug off due to her being late, you get out of the bed and watch as she gets dressed quickly, amazed at how she can pull herself together so quickly.

“Where are you meeting him?” You ask Larissa, standing in front behind her as she uses your mirror to fix her hair into its usual style. She turns back to look at you, her hands pausing their movements.

“At a café in Burlington, I left my car at the academy, so I’ll have to get a taxi.” Larissa says, stepping closer to you. “I’ll message you.” She says, before kissing your cheek and leaving.

Days pass and you have yet to hear anything back from Larissa. You had left her a message, in which she had just read and not responded. You take the hint, no matter how much it hurts, and you do not attempt to message her.

It’s Wednesday morning and you’re sitting in your usual booth. You notice how Larissa hasn’t come in during the mornings anymore. You sigh lightly as you take out your flash drive and spare a glance to the bear keychain you had attached to it.

A shadow darkens your laptop and you feel hope swell in your chest, at the possibility of it being Larissa but as you see another figure, a lady in which you hadn’t seen before at this time of the morning, who had red hair and was wearing glasses, along with a baby blue cardigan over a summery dress. You smile lightly.

“Hi.” She says, almost nervously. “May I sit here?” She asks, and you look around the café and notice hoe the seating is unusually full. You nod and smile. “I’m Marilyn.”

“Y/N.” You return, with a shy smile. You try to focus on your work but notice the lady, Marilyn, staring at you. You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she smiles softly.

“What are you working on, Y/N?” Marilyn asks and you look at your laptop. Déjà vu from the first time you and Larissa spoke. You frown lightly and look back towards her.

“Just my thesis for Uni.” You return, shortly. You don’t mean to come across as rude but you know that the last time you had been nice to someone sitting with you at the booth, you had a one night stand, and she avoided you since.

Yet, your heart still yearned for. Marilyn’s eyebrows furrow together as she watches you together, throwing a glance at your bear keychain.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem quite upset.” Marilyn states and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but since I��m just a stranger, it might be nice to talk about.” Marilyn shrugs lightly, taking a sip of her drink, and you notice it in a to go cup.

You sigh, contemplating and decide that it would be nice to talk about it. “I, uh, met someone. I thought we were getting along great, we went to the harvest festival together, she kissed me, and then we went back to mine together. I haven’t heard from her since, haven’t seen her since even though she usually comes here in the morning.” You admit, and Marilyn looks at you comfortingly.

“I have a friend, who’s in somewhat of a similar situation.” Marilyn states, “Well, not exactly the same, kind of the opposite, and she’s the avoider. But she did so for a reason.”

You close your laptop and look at Marilyn whose hands are resting on the table and Marilyn smiles softly, looking at you with warm eyes.

“What reason would that be?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink, before avoiding her eyes.

“Well, see the person she was seeing was quite a bit younger than her, and after they got together, she just felt insecure about her age, about the difference in the stages of their lives. I mean, my friend has her career and knows that she wants to stay in her job for the rest of her life, but she confessed to me that the person she was seeing hasn’t even finished studying yet. She’s scared that this person won’t wanna be with her once she realizes the difference.” Marilyn says and you watch her, your eyes feel as if they’re growing wet. You don’t say anything immediately, noticing the similarities.

“Well, has she asked the person she’s seeing? Cause, you know, the woman I was seeing was quite the bit older than me and that was never a problem for me.” You shrug before sighing again. “Guess she just wanted some fun. It was a bad idea.”

Marilyn nods along, listening to what you say before checking her phone for the time. “I’ve gotta go now, will you be here tomorrow?" She asks and you nod.

A week passes and you and Marilyn become quite close friends, often giving each other separate advice. It’s evening time for as you type away on your laptop, its nearing closing time but you have just one more argument to write before you can leave.

You hear the door to the café open and you look up, seeing Larissa enter. Almost immediately, her eyes are locking with yours and you look back at your laptop, saving the file and closing it up before you get up to leave.

You make it halfway to the exit before you hear your name being called. “Y/N!” Larissa says, taking long strides, and you look back towards her, moving back slightly as she stands in front of you.

“Oh, hi.” You say, before pulling out your phone, pretending to check the time. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you.” You say, with a fake smile.

You turn around and leave the café, making sure you do not glance back, yet you yearn to, to turn around and you hope that Larissa will call out your name, but your heart drops as you walk down the street, and she still hasn’t called out your name.

You feel used. You feel sad and used. Did what you have mean nothing to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Larissa watches you leave, her hands gripping onto the keychain you had won for her, her cheeks growing wet as she realizes how much she has hurt you.

The weekend arrives and Marilyn invites you out to a bar, just for a friendly drink she had said. You enter the bar, which lighting is low and you notice Marilyn is at the bar, grabbing drinks and you approach her with a small grin.

“Hi, Marilyn.” You smile and Marilyn grins at you, looking up at you from over her glasses. You notice her taking two drinks from the bartender and thanking him, you furrow your eyebrows at her in confusion as Marilyn smiles.

“Hi, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited another one of my friends.” Marilyn smirks, and hands you one of the drinks she has ordered. It’s a glass of red wine and you smile at her taking a sip.

“That’s fine, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You smile, and Marilyn grins as she leads you to a table, your eyes are more focused on the bar, and you almost bump into Marilyn as she stops, grinning like a fool as she looks at you.

You move your eyes to the table and to your absolute surprise, Larissa is sitting there is a low-cut dress and her usual golden chain. She stands once she sees you. “Y/N.” She says and you look at her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You say, slightly tense, and Marilyn places her drink on the table. She shuffles slightly before speaking.

“I see you two have already met, which is great because I need the bathroom.” She grins and she rushes away.

“Wait, Marilyn!” You call after her, and she ignores you, as she walks through a crowd. You look back to Larissa and swallow. Jesus, even when you’re mad at her, she still has the ability to make you speechless. You frown as you connect the dots. “You’re the friend Marilyn was telling me about?” You ask, and Larissa steps closer to you. You don’t back away this time, and Larissa takes this a win.

“So that means, you are also the friend that Marilyn was telling me about.” Larissa says and her eyes soften. Her hands find yours slowly, in fear of you pulling away. You don’t and Larissa breathes a sigh of relief before speaking, “I never wanted to use you for fun, Y/N. I just—What I felt- what I feel- is very real and I was scared you’d think I was too old for you.”

You step closer to Larissa, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “I never would have thought that.” You say softly, and Larissa removes her hands from yours, placing them onto your hips. “I was, I am, falling for you, Larissa. You hurt me.” You say, and your cheeks grow hot as Larissa’s grip on you tightens.

“I am sorry, sweetheart. It was never my intention. But after I left yours in a hurry, I thought, I thought, you wouldn’t want to see me because of the workload I have, and I though you might’ve wanted more excitement.” Larissa says, her face coming closer to yours, “But, I have to admit that I am falling- No, I am in love with you, I’m in love with the excitement that radiates from you, the shyness that have when you see me, the passion you have for university, and the I love you.” Larissa confesses, her breath tickiling your lips.

You breath hitches as you close your eyes, before opening them again to see Larissa’s ocean blue eyes staring into your soul. “I’m in love with you too. I love hoe passionate you are about your career, I love how much you care about your students, I love the way you always make me feel so nervous.” You say and Larissa brings your lips together, in a soft, caring, loving, passionate kiss.

You eventually pull away and rest your foreheads together. In the distance you hear Marilyn yell. You both look over towards her as she’s grinning madly before she shouts, “I did it!”

You and Larissa look at each other before giggling.

Fin

#larissa weems x reader #wednesday #larissa weems imagine #larrisa weems #omg these bitches gay #fluff #fluffy asf #nearly died writing this #platonic marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #marilyn is not laurel

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

Text

Rough Patch Headcannon🐥💛 (Little Duck AU)

Pairing: Dad! Chris Evans x Momma Evans (Female Reader)

Summary: things aren’t always as they seem in the Evans household, and currently, it’s tougher than rough

Warnings: angst, mental health, arguments, fluff towards end:)

Back on bedrest once again after you got home from your appointment with Chris, Arlie was down for a nap so it made it easier for you to hide away in your shared bedroom, not wanting to talk to anyone or talk about anything

You didn’t think this pregnancy would be easy, especially with baby boy growing everyday and getting bigger and bigger, but the aches, the constant pain you were in mixed with a very active toddler were draining you more than you’d ever admit

It started 3 weeks ago when you noticed you felt down, you’d experienced this feeling before after giving birth to Arlie, the dark cloud swimming around over top of you, the weight on your shoulders, that on top of the unbalanced hormones with baby boy, were cause for disaster

It also wasn’t fair that you’d been so snappy with Chris recently, he never took offence to it, never got angry, he knew you were in loads of pain, he just wished he could take it from you

“Okay…please be good so I can wash my face baby..”

The plead seemed to work momentarily before he pushed roughly on your ribcage, a frustrated groan leaving your lips before angrily tossing your face products to the side

You couldn’t help the sudden sobs that escaped as you tried hard to hold it together and not have a total breakdown, Chris shoving the door open in worry a few seconds later

“Hey, hey, whoa honey…what’s going on?”

“I can’t t-take this pain anymore, all it is and a-all it has been is p-painful and I c-can’t even do anything a-anymore!”

Chris almost didn’t know what to say to try and console you, you didn’t stay in the bathroom long enough for him to hug you, opting to move back and get into bed

“What can I do to help you in this moment sweet girl?”

You shrugged and it was like all resolve left you

“Nothing. I don’t want anything, there’s nothing that can help, I’m giving up, I want to just be in pain in bed, alone and god I don’t fucking know!”

The minute you heard a soft whimper and a quiet “momma…?” your heart stopped and you cursed quietly to yourself, looking over to see Arlie, mr.duck clutched in her arms as her bottom lip wobbled, her eyes glassy

“Hi my love…come in”

“Why you yelling momma…? don’t like it.”

She walked close enough for you to help her on the bed, her little arm covering your bump and she rested against you

“I’m sorry duck, I didn’t mean to scare you, Momma just isn’t feeling well that’s all…”

Chris watched quietly sitting at your feet, his hand squeezing your ankle gently

“I s’owwy you not feeling well momma…I can help you feel better!”

A tired smile showed on your face as you rubbed a hand over her head, the frustration leaving your body only to be replaced with that sinking feeling of sadness and dread

“I bet you could my love..”

Chris could see the sudden drop your mood, leaning over to tickle Arlie’s little feet, a giggle filling the room

“Come on baby girl, let’s go make some of Momma’s favourite snacks, maybe do some art for her?”

Arlie sat up nodding her head before kissing your head softly

“Bye momma! Be back soon!!”

She ran off towards the hallway, Chris couldn’t help the laugh he let out watching her excitement at the idea of helping cheer her momma up, truth be told he wanted to help his wife in any way he could

“I’m sorry i’m being such a horrible wife and mom..I don’t know how you still stand to be around me”

It was instantaneous how his hands reached to hold your face, your eyes shifting to meet his

“I love you, I love you so much I would do anything for you, you know that…right?”

After you nodded he continued

“You are the best mother to Arlie and our little guy, and you are the best wife a man could ever ask for. I know things have been so incredibly hard, and you’re in a lot of pain, so much so that I wish we could swap places because seeing you hurting like this and not knowing how to help you is killing me..”

You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until he swiped his thumb across your cheeks

“I-I’ve been so horrible to you…”

“You’ve been frustrated, in pain and going through a really rough time, I haven’t taken any of that to heart because I know that isn’t you…what I do want is for us to work together to help you get comfortable, and to help this beautiful brain of yours feel better..”

Chris moved to pull you into his side, his lips pressing a few kisses to your temple

“DADDY ‘HUWWY UP I NEED HELP!!”

You let out a soft laugh, the first one in a few weeks and Chris joined you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips

“I missed that sound, we’re gonna take care of you and figure this out I promise you, now I believe little miss and I have some work to do to get our favourite girl feeling better”

“I love you Chris…”

He stopped at the door, turning to send you a smile

“I love you more sweet girl”

It was nowhere near over, you were nowhere near that happy and bubbly woman you’d once been, and that was okay. For the first time in 3 weeks you felt a little less down, the weigh on your shoulders eased the slightest amount. Although it still hurt and you were still struggling, knowing you had your little girl and your ever so sweet husband in your corner, made things a tiny bit lighter…and you’d take it🤍

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badchoicesworld · 8 months

Note

Hola this is my first req

Might I request hcs for Hobie and Miles (separately) x male reader who is a fellow super hero with a mutation in his jaw that gave him a snake bite?(sharp teeth, unhinging jaw, venom)

Despite how scary reader can look he is very kind and courteous (and head over heels for his spider boy) and Hobie and Miles help him get over his insecurities about smiling around others

Fluffy and romantic pls (sorry if it too specific lol)

Thank you and keep being awesome

😎🫶 - Crax

hobie and miles with snake mutated boyfriends !

welcome back crax lmao, the request slapped dw, you nailed it !

AND IM SO SORRY for keeping you waiting, shit kept going on in my life

separate, established relationships

warnings: hobie brown ?

pairing: hobie brown x male!reader, miles morales x male!reader

requests: refer to the masterlist please !

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

you wanna know how many fucks hobie gives about the mutation ? zero

in like the most respectful but effortlessly cool way

mutations are nothing new to him, man fights mutants on the daily

just views it as an extension of yourself, it’s apart of who you are

if you can accept that, he’s happy

would absolutely be a hype man if not though, he don’t fuck w insecurity

one thing i think he’d reference a lot ? medusa, because of that one sticker on his guitar

maybe he’s a huge greek mythology guy and thinks that your mutation is a sign for this and that- like that one comment he made about metaphors for capitalism, i think he liked to analyse things like an english student

with your unhinging jaw and venomous bite he liked to say some absurd stuff like “just goes to show how independence and self sufficiency can overcome the norms regardless of [politics]” hinting at that while you may have some unconventionally appreciated features, you’re able to rise above it and be a hero like a badass

so that being said, he thinks your smile alone is dope and can represent so much more if you want it to

if you wear a mask or something to cover it up, he’ll never insist on taking it off unless you’re comfortable, it’s not his place to dictate what you wear

he may however make a comment or two about it

“hope you’re not wearin’ tha’ to cover up them teeth of yours” ur teeth are so cool

if you’re insecure about how like exposed ur teeth are when you smile, Hobie gets into the habit of pulling his cheek back w his finger when smiling (at the appropriate times) just to show there’s nothin to be afraid of

sticks his tongue out too for funsies, ESPECIALLY if you’ve got a forked tongue

it’s a true shame getting ur tongue split is illegal in the UK, he’d love to match

at the end of the day when alls said and done, if you can’t bring yourself to feel comfortable in your own skin while you’re out and about, he’ll make it clear that he doesn’t care about your unhinging jaw or teeth or venom in private, cause that’s where it counts in his head

he thinks you look badass and really doesn’t think you should pay attention to what other people think anyway, under any circumstances

but especially when you go out there together and make a genuine difference in the world as heroes, even if you don’t call yourselves that

has once cracked a joke along the lines of “my boyfriend will bite you” and it was actually a threat, in the most loving way

miles

he might be like- a bit surprised the first time meeting you, maybe have some slightly insensitive questions but he means no offence

he just can’t keep his mouth shut sometimes

i think he’s a tiny bit afraid at first but warms up quickly, miles doesn’t seem like a snake guy and i can see him being the associating anything with everything kinda guy

definitely felt guilty for that one now ur boyfriends

massive fan of drawing you and your snake-ness, you look so funky in his style

really likes being heroes together :]

took a double take the first time he saw your jaw unhinge but now he seems jealous at times

after having a super serious conversation about it he immediately says something so off handed that it completely cuts whatever tension there might have been

makes an excellent point that you could swallow a burber whole, he thinks that’s an accomplishment fs

“you can eat a burger in one, that’s skill.” he’s so sure of himself while saying that

there’s something very terrifying but reassuring and endearing about you having such a dangerous mouth with you ur venom and such, used some strange ass logic like “he COULD kill me, but he won’t”

so when you are comfortable just being urself and not covering up your smile, he honestly feels really grateful and trusted

mans never gonna break that trust, he’s never gonna hurt you

ur polite asf too so he doesn’t even second guess introducing you to his parents, doesn’t think things along the lines of “gonna introduce my snake boyfriend” it’s more like “he’s so polite this is an easy win”

IF YOU SMILE HE SMILES, that’s all i’m sayin

therefore, you should smile more and not go out of your way to hide it

he won’t really say anything if you actively choose to in public, you might catch him lookin a bit sympathetic from the corner of your eye if he notices you purposely doing it

it’s not his place to say a thing, but he’d really appreciate it if you got out of that habit, and he’s happy to help

like he might busy your hands just so you don’t subconsciously cover your mouth, that kinda things

he could do this by holding them or whatever

please don’t be embarrassed of urself, you are so so handsome

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

sorry it’s not insanely romantic ?? i cant really see these boys being like that so i kinda struggled a bit w that

sorry if this is just not great overall i’ve been out of it shshshs

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lace-coffin · 2 months

Note

Hello! 👋 I have a really weird kinda specific request for Asa. Could you pretty please write headcanons of Asa with a picky eater s/o? But like an emotional picky eater, idk if that makes sense. Personally I have a rlly hard time with motivation to eat, I'm also a picky eater so when someone else eats my food and I run out of my favorites I get really frustrated and emotional because it's hard for me to eat already and eating foods I don't like just make it 10x harder. Idk I'm a crybaby and cry over food lol. Sorry if this is weird or too specific 😅. Anyways I love your writing keep up the good work and have a fantastic day/night!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request! No need to apologise! I love specific requests! I’m also a pretty picky eater due to my autism so ur not alone! I’m so happy u like my writing ah T T have a fantastic night urself!!

Asa Emory x picky eater!Reader

Requests are open!

The restaurant was supposed to be a reward for your good behaviour lately, unfortunately it turned into a nightmare only moments after being seated. Flicking through the menu your heart rate starts to spike, making you feel a little sweaty and out of it. The restaurant is beautiful and lavish but unfortunately that means the menu is more ‘out there’ and doesn’t have any of your safe foods on it…

You don’t want to ruin the reward, it’s a nice restaurant and you’re here to enjoy it with your master. attempting to shovel the anxiety down you order something that you think could be edible to you. Your nervous energy dies down a little as convocation flows between the two of you, laughing along easily and lost in it you almost forget the problem at hand. Until it arrives.

Five minuets pass and you haven’t eaten more than one bite after pushing the meal around your plate with the fork, trying to stall. You try will yourself to take another bite but you can’t do it, your eyes are starting to water and you don’t know what to do, if only you could just buckle down and eat it. Unfortunately that’s not an option, your stomach starting to turn and your breath catching at the idea.

Asa notices you haven’t spoken in a while, he figured you’d just been enjoying the meal until he’d looked up, your face contorted in worry and tears threatening to fall.

“-re you ok? Pet?”

Blinking away your tears you pull yourself back into the moment, only catching the latter half of what your partner said but getting the gist. No use in hiding it now, there’s no way you’re going to finish this meal without crying, and you sure as fuck don’t want to be crying in the middle of the restaurant. You can’t think of anything more mortifying.

Eyes falling away from Asa and back to the plate you take a breath and begin to explain, voice small and apologetic.

“They didn’t have any foods I know I like so uh I ordered something new! I didn’t like it though..” you say, wincing a little.

“I’ve tried my best to eat it but I just..can’t. I promise I’ve tried my hardest and I really want this reward to be good and I love being here with you but it’s stressing me out so bad!” You sniffle again at the end, explaining the issue always makes you emotional again.

“Oh pet” Asa sighs with a fond expression.

“You should’ve said something, it’s really no worry at all, we could’ve gone somewhere else, I won’t take offence.”

You let out an exhale of relief, realistically you knew he wouldn’t be angry with you considering he already knew about your eating difficulties but it still didn’t stop you from panicking.

“Cricket” your owner addresses you again, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

“Would you like to leave and get some takeout? We can go to your favourite, it’s your reward after all.” He smiles softly at you.

Squeezing his hand affectionately you can’t help but grin back.

“I would love that, sir.”

I rlly wanted to do the rest of ur request too so have some extra headcanons on the house lmao

“Come on pet, just one more bite and I promise no more.” Asa coos as he scoops the spoon full of food, bringing it to your lips. The gesture is very sweet but unfortunately you want absolutely nothing less than to have the next bite, the idea nauseating.

-After finding out about the difficulties you have surrounding food he likely keeps multiple packages of your safe food stocked in the house

-always has a food you know you like in the freezer or fridge on standby when trying new foods incase it doesn’t go well

-he’ll never get angry at you if you suddenly go off your food, he’ll either offer to get you something else or make you pinky promise to eat later when you feel better

-has absolutely let you cry it out more than once at the drive through when you find out the thing you’ve been thinking about all day is out of stock

-if you’re finding it hard to eat and he absolutely can’t get you out of bed/move you to eat then he’ll bring the food too you, will happily feed you if you ask or look like you need it, he loves to feed dominant and needed

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher fandom #slasher #slasher horror #slashers x reader

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ceilingfan5 · 6 months

Text

boy enrichment

happy friday! another one for @taznovembercelebration "YES"

“So like, I don’t know any of this nerd shit,” Taako says, flipping his hair a little. “But the lil’ man wants to play, and I want him to get to play, because the next time he gets the zoomies and I have to play Risk I’m gonna fuckin’ Risk It All, you know what I mean? No offence, Ango.”

“None taken, sir! If I took offence at all of your flippant and seemingly disparaging comments made to distance yourself from real feelings and maintain the dangerously seductive comfort of irony, I’d be in a sorry state, probably!” Angus grins a great big gap toothed grin, not even looking at Taako, who just sort of accepts this as normal. Both of them look at Kravitz expectantly, and he, stunned, realized he’s meant to be formulating an answer and not just being more floored than the sad, sad fucking arcade carpet he won’t replace because he’d have to lose like, a WEEK of business.

Also it’s vintage.

“But I’m not!” Angus says, probably for Kravitz’s benefit, and also as a politer way to kick someone under the table, especially when you cannot kick under the counter of his game store.

“Right,” Kravitz says. “So you want to play DnD.”

“Oh, more than anything, sir!” Angus does a little wiggle that betrays the absolute carbonated excitement lurking under his carefully controlled little bow-tie ass calm. “But even, perhaps, if it were possible to be more than anything and then more than that again, as how some infinities are larger than other infinities, as you may remember from the siren song of calculus, I really, really want to DM!”

“You want to DM?” Kravitz eyes the ten year old. Ten? He thinks Taako said ten. He might have also said five, and that’s definitely not true. Probably. No, definitely. Five is like double toddler. Right? Double and a half? “Dungeon Master,” Angus says helpfully, opening his mouth and taking a thrilled deep breath to elaborate ‘for Kravitz’s benefit’.

“Right. Well, sh- heck, young man, uh, I admire your enthusiasm,”

“Don’t worry, you can swear in front of me! I’m perfectly well aware of what sort of words you say in what sort of situations. In fact, I’ve been learning a lot about code-switching, and-”

“Hey, lil’man, you gotta win the sale to infodump,” Taako nudges in a stage whisper.

“Right!!!!!” Angus straightens up, vibrating like a Looney Toons arrow. “Regardless, would it be possible to DM at your game store Mr. Kravitz? I promise I would follow any rules and guidelines you set out as appropriate based on your store code of conduct, even if they’re stupid, and Taako can help me bring snacks if that is acceptable!”

Kravitz laughs, getting the hang of it now. He gets it. Maybe he doesn’t get Angus specifically yet, or even kids in general, but oh, does he recognize this flavor. And he would fucking love to enable it as far as he’s allowed.

“You know what, I do think I have an open table. I’ll put out feelers and see who’s interested. Do you mind a rotating party, or would you prefer to lock in for a certain amount of time?”

“Hmmmm,” Angus says, screwing up his face and clearly mentally flipping through his campaign notes. “Let me consider and prioritize.”

“Yeah, you consider and prioritize, maybe shop around a little, and I’ll chat with your, uh,”

“Taako,” Taako smoulders, which provides no fucking context whatsoever. Who are you to him. ELABORATE!!

“Taako,” Kravitz agrees with a smile.

Angus bolts off so fast to look at the campaign books and dice that he leaves an Angus-shaped cloud behind, and Taako and Kravitz stifle laughter, because it’s still not like, a huge store, and the little guy probably hears everything he isn’t supposed to.

“Precocious,” Kravitz says fondly. “You don’t know the half of it,” Taako sighs. “I can’t keep up with him half the time. But man, he cares so hard it wears a hole through me and when I eat it falls out of me like a cartoon skeleton.”

“So true.” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. They’re more the same than Taako may realize. They reek of the same vibe, like the kind of candle you wanna take a big bite out of. “He’s yours?”

“Insomuch as a stray cat is yours, you know?” Taako leans on the game counter and sigh, toying with his hair again, which Kravitz recognizes is a flirting technique and is somehow still kneecapped by. “Like, you can be like, hey, who the fuck lets cats outside? They’re gonna decimate the goddamn bird population, and then where will we be?”

“Ten percent less birdful,” Kravitz says, like that’s a reasonable thing any person has ever said on planet Earth, ever.

Taako nods, which does nothing to discourage Kravitz’s bullshit.

“But like, seriously, his legal guardians don’t do shit, and yadda yadda yadda,”

“Plot plot lore, Kravitz agrees.

“He’s mine, sort of. He comes and eats my food, at least, you know, when he doesn’t have to fight possums for it.”

“Does the possum have a name?” Kravitz grins.

“Garyl,” Taako says, whipping back just as fast. Fuck, Kravitz is obsessed with him. Damn, he had things to do. “He used to be a binicorn in another life, but he can’t escape the cycle, so he came back as a trash gargler. His favorite cheese is provolone.”

“Ooh, mild,” Kravitz says, so outside of himself at the moment that he could pause the livestream and do football drawings and commentary on his own stupid face putting these noises in this order. But Taako laughs, so it’s worth it. He looks at Angus, who is carefully inspecting the Bucket O’ Dice, and digging frantically for one he’s spotted in the very bottom. “I almost want to go open another pound of dice and pour them in, you know, for uh…boy enrichment.”

“Boy enrichment is the name of the game,” Taako agrees. “That tiger needs beefier meat pumpkins than cha’boi can provide. I can’t keep up with him, seriously. I was hoping maybe you’d know more about this shit?”

“Yeah, a little,” Kravitz massively understates, feeling a glowing, strong bond form between him and this alleycat of a kid. “I’d love to let him find his footing here, if you want. And if people want to be freaks about it, I’m not having it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Taako mumbles. “Knew I could trust a pretty guy like you. No one’s snapped you up yet?”

“Too goth and weird,” Kravitz laments, like he isn’t having a heart attack about being called pretty. “I’m as single as the day is long.”

“Well, it’s Daylight Savings Time, bitch, and it’s about to get real dark.”

“Are you-” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. “Are you announcing your intentions to pursue me?”

“Is it working?” Taako winks.

“Yes,” Kravitz has to admit. “Yes it is."

[ID: a gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-5 taken up by stickers of a cat, a fish, "good worker", a door, and a dragon]

#taz #taz nc #taz november celebration #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Already Gone || MV1 {2}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: All the best laid plans fail when someone beats you at your own game. Warnings: criminal activities, little bit of violence & blood, angst WC: 2.5k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three

One more month. That was the deadline you gave yourself. If you were honest with yourself you would not be so lenient and leave that very second. You had done your job, you had done it a little too well and fallen for your own lies. You had fallen for your target.

The information you had been supplying to his competitor had been used with almost immediate results and Red Bull were no longer dominating the podiums like they had for the last four seasons. Max was also struggling with the changes on the grid, or more precisely he was struggling with his father’s constant berating at his lack of trophies. It was wearing him down and the more races he lost the more you became the crutch he leaned on.

You loved that he trusted you and shared his deepest thoughts with you but you hated it all the same. It would only break his spirit that much more when you left.

Your hackles rose at the threat and you shoved the burner phone back into the hiding space beneath the floorboards of your wardrobe. Max would be here any minute and you still hadn’t finished packing your bag for the trip to Milton Keynes.

A knock on your door sounded and you called out to Max that the door was unlocked as you sat on your suitcase so that you could zip it up.

“You realise it’s only a week, liefje,” Max laughed as he saw you struggling with the zipper.

He knelt between your legs and shifted your hands aside so he could take over pulling the zip around while you pointed out that in your defence you needed more than a can of Axe body spray and a toothbrush for a trip away.

“Axe?” he scoffed with mock offence before successfully closing the suitcase and grinning triumphantly. “I’m not that basic.”

“I like that you’re not hung up on money and status,” you said as you hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, not caring that you were certainly crinkling all the clothes you were sitting on in the bag. “Most guys would let that go straight to their heads, but not you.”

“You can thank my father for that,” he said a little bitterly as his hands came to rest on your waist. “He is good at keeping my feet on the ground.”

“More like knocking you down,” you muttered as you pursed your lips before catching the sigh he tried to hide. “Sorry.”

You planned to give him a quick kiss with the apology you didn’t mean but there was no such thing when it came to him. Time seemed to slow whenever his lips danced with yours, his competitive nature coming out as he fought for dominance, his hands climbing your body until he cupped your face and he took control.

“We should go,” he murmured against your lips before untangling your legs from where they had locked around his waist and you pouted at the loss of touch. He smirked as he brushed his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips and shook his head. “Don’t. Brett is waiting outside.”

“Fine,” you sighed and let him pull you to your feet before he grabbed the suitcase for you. You followed him through the living room, grabbing your laptop on the way as you looked around the empty space beside it. “Have you seen my keys?”

“Kitchen,” he nodded to the countertop and you frowned as you wondered how they had got there. “Ready?”

You swiped them up as you passed by, checking the door was locked behind you before setting the security alarms on your phone and giving him a nod. “Ready.”

Brett, Max’s new driver and PA, already had the SUV running when Max opened the back door for you and he took a seat beside you, lacing his fingers with yours. “Good afternoon, Madilyn,” he greeted in the rearview mirror with a tight smile before turning his focus to the road.

“Brett,” you nodded politely, unable to muster any small talk as you watched him shift nervously on his seat. “Everything alright?”

Max’s head looked up from his phone but when Brett said everything was fine he accepted it and went back to scrolling through the news.

The flight one Max’s private jet was uneventful and soon you were in another SUV being driven to Red Bull’s headquarters with Brett at the helm. “Madilyn, am I dropping you off at the hotel or will you be joining Max?”

You looked to Max for the answer with a small shrug, “I have work to catch up on but I can do that from anywhere.”

Max nodded and looked to Brett, “She’ll come with me.”

The man didn’t seem too impressed with the idea but he hid it well enough that even you were questioning if you were seeing things, but he nodded and bypassed the small city of Milton Keynes.

It had been a few weeks since your last visit to the headquarters and factory but you knew the layout of it by heart. You had mapped the places of interest and found it easy enough to get Max to give you a tour so you could familiarise yourself with it first hand.

“I’m dying for a coffee,” you said as Max started to head towards Christian’s office. “Do you want one, babe?”

“Brett can get one,” he offered but you shook your head.

“No need to trouble him, I’m sure I can find my way to the staff room.” You tapped your laptop bag hanging over your shoulder and gave him a flirty wink. “I might even be able to get some work done while you’re busy so we can have some free time together tonight.”

He grinned at the idea and turned you around to point at a door to the stairwell, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ear as he spoke, “Down one level, turn left and the cafeteria is all the way at the end. I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

“Not if I find you first,” you challenged him and earned a growl as he nipped at your neck.

“Ik hou van jou,” Max reminded you as he heard his name called down the hall and pulled away.

“I love you too.” It should have been a lie, but it wasn’t.

If anyone asked why you were here you would say you were lost and needed access to the internet. You weren’t that far from the staff room but you were definitely in a room you shouldn’t have been in. It had been pure luck that a technician had been coming out of it as you passed by and the door closed so slowly you had just slipped inside. Once you were in, all you needed was to plug the Ethernet cable into your laptop and you could access most of their network with the strokes of the keys on your keyboard.

It was quick work to find the latest files full of the updates they were making to their race cars and you downloaded them before erasing any traces of you being there at all. You would go through them later and transfer the documents to a thumb drive like you had done too many times already.

“This is the last time,” you promised yourself as you closed the laptop and grabbed your phone.

“Shit,” you cursed as you ducked out of the room and set a quick pace to get to the cafeteria before Brett arrived but he was already there. “Sorry, had to use the ladies,” you lied smoothly. “Do you know when Max will be joining me?”

“No, but it won’t be for quite some time.”

Alarm bells were ringing in your head at the detached tone and you took a step back. “I’m just going to say goodbye to him real quick, can you order me a double shot espresso to takeaway?”

You left the way you came but instead of climbing the stairs to where Max was meeting with Christian, you raced down to the ground floor and out of the busy factory. It was lucky that some workers on the early shift were finishing and you jogged over to one in the room parking lot.

“Hey, are you heading into the city?” you asked with a warm smile. “My Uber bailed on me and I could really do with a lift.”

The young woman blinked a few times before her eyes widened. “You’re Maddie, Max’s girlfriend, right? Of course, hop in. I’m Jade.”

Your smile faltered as you slipped into the passenger seat and you wondered how much longer that title would hold true. You kept reading and rereading that last text message, waiting as if those two little xx’s would suddenly appear and make everything better. He always ended his messages with the little kisses, always.

“Can you please drop me at the Central Mall?” you asked as she reached the city streets and plans for your escape formed from the maps you had scanned over while she drove.

You would stop at the mall, get a change of clothes and some cash out, before catching the next train to London. From there you would swing by the apartment you kept in Camden Town where a go bag with a fresh passport and bank cards waited with everything you needed to disappear.

The thought of ghosting Max made you feel sick. It didn’t matter that you had done it a dozen times before, this time you didn’t want to go and this time the guy didn’t deserve it.

“Are you alright?” Jade asked as she put the car in park outside the mall entrance. “Should I call someone?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine. Thank you for the ride.”

Adrenaline flooded your system as you checked over your shoulder and felt as if you were being watched while you searched for an ATM. Your hands were shaking so much when you fingered the pin onto the pad that you had to take another attempt at getting it right before the maximum withdrawal could be chosen.

You had never once been caught but you could feel the walls closing in on you as you jogged down the stairs to the underground, the hood of the jumper you had quickly bought pulled down over your head. The train station was busy with commuters and you should have been lost in the crowd but still there was a burning between your shoulder blades, like someone was looking down a scope and found its target.

Your phone rang in your hand and the lock screen lit up with the picture of you sitting on Max’s lap at the front of his yacht, the sun setting in a fiery red sky behind you. You didn’t have the strength to decline the call and you swiped your thumb over the screen to hear his voice one more time.

“Why?” His accent was thick, it always was when emotion filled it. The silence hung heavy as your train rolled into the station and you knew your time was running out. “Why!”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I thought I could find a way.”

“To do what?”

The doors opened and you slipped inside the carriage with the crowd.

“To fix this.” You ended the call before your voice broke and tossed the phone out of the train before the doors closed shut. There was no doubt now that Red Bull knew what you were and they had the money and connections needed to have your phone tracked so you were cutting yourself off.

Or so you thought.

It was the pair of ice blue eyes that you noticed first when you stepped off the train. It would have been easier to breathe if a noose had tightened around your throat but the cold hatred in his eyes had the same effect.

You couldn’t run with Max standing there across the station, his arms crossed over his chest, his hands closed into fists. You couldn’t fight back when you were shoved onto the filthy platform and a knee was pressed harshly into your lower back. You couldn’t move as a pair of cold handcuffs were snapped onto your wrist and Max stepped forward before he could stop himself.

It was Christian who approached you instead, stopping to pick up your keys that had fallen to the concrete. He jingled them in front of you and your eyes snapped to the charm to see it had cracked from the fall, something that wouldn’t have happened to the original silver medallion.

“The Trojan Horse was a nice trick, wasn’t it?” he taunted as he closed his hands around it and stood up, nodding to the men that held you down. “Get her out of here before the tabloids get wind of this.”

The weight was gone a moment before you were pulled back to your feet, your shoulders screaming in protest as they pushed you forward until you passed Max. His eyes bored holes into yours as he turned with you, his fingers twitching as if for a moment he wanted to reach for you.

“Let’s go,” Christian said as he clasped Max’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze before following you out.

“I don’t suppose I could get your badge numbers?” you asked knowingly as you scanned the crowd for any sign of the actual police.

“No,” the one on your left replied with a laugh before you reached the street and saw the three black SUV’s lined up on the street.

“Well, that’s a relief,” you muttered before throwing your elbow back up into his face, savouring the sound of his nose crunching under the hit. “Or that would have got me in a lot of trouble.”

“Bitch!” Your head snapped to the side with the harsh backhand he returned and you tasted copper from the split lip that stung worse than the slap to your cheek.

“Maddie!” Max called as he leapt forward and shoulder barged the man away from you before cupping your face and wincing at the blood that dripped from your lip.

“Stop calling her that, we’re not even sure it’s her real name,” Christian said as he pulled Max’s hands from you. “She’s a criminal, Max.”

“She’s still my girlfriend,” he sighed, brushing an angry hand through his hair. “Can we just get in the fucking car?”

You were tugged into the backseat of the middle car and Max made to follow before Christian held his hand out to stop him. “You’re not riding with her.”

Max scoffed and shoved his hand aside as he grabbed the door handle. “You’re not my father.”

Click here for part three.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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