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#I’m proud of the way I handled everything
hoeforcheol · 1 year
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Long story short, she had a fight with rebound and home girl wasn’t letting her leave so she stayed the night. But she no longer wants anything to do with her and I feel like that came with the undertone of “I don’t wanna see her again because our fights were easier.” That might just be me tho.
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lux-xlisbon · 3 months
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Someone: wow! You’re really good at this one specific thing! I’m so proud of you!
My BPD: yeah, I’m not gonna make you feel sort of ashamed and awkward about this compliment. You’re also going to forget about it almost immediately, just so you know
Someone: *gives me constructive criticism on something*
BPD: See? You fucking SUCK and you can’t do anything right ever! Might as well give up forever! Btw, I’ve made a little compilation of EVERY single criticism you’ve ever received, and it’s gonna play in you hear every single time you do something ever!
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woundedheartwithin · 7 days
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I think people look at me wearing all black with band tees and sneakers and 14mm tunnels in my ears and think I don’t know shit about horses. And like… I’ve had my gelding for a decade. I’ve ridden him basically everywhere in every situation you can imagine. Yeah, I’m a core kid, but I’m also a certified horse girl, and I have the back problems to prove it lmao
#she speaks#we had a minor crisis yesterday that required an unplanned vet trip#he’s fine I was just being cautious#cuz like he had some swelling over a tendon in one of his legs and I didn’t like it#tendons are nothing to play with#but there’s a new vet tech at the office and I think he was convinced things were gonna get a little western#and like nah we’re fine lmao#this guy is a fancy broke show horse and a dynamite trail pony and we’ve done just about everything together#the vet tech who’s always been there and knows me was like nah we’re gonna stay outta her way she’s got him#dude kept tryna cut in and like… no. I’ve got him please let me handle my horse whom I’ve had for a decade#we trust each other completely so just chill lol neither of us are gonna freak out#guy kept tryna ask him to move too and woody was like no? my mom’s got me and I’m gonna listen to her and ignore your stupid ass?#and he did too I was so proud lmao#didn’t even flick an ear at the guy his focus was on me the entire time#and like I took lessons for a couple years and my ex-best friend is a horse trainer#I never took lessons under them because fuck that lmao but I learned a lot from them#I had a different trainer who I went to and showed ranch pleasure under#won a fair few ribbons with woody in that time too#even won reserve champion in an aqha/apha sanctioned world qualifier in halter#my ranchy baby beat a bunch of double muscled hypp halter bred monsters and denied them points for world lmfao#judge told me and the little ranchy appy who got champion that she chose us because our horses were perfect and actually looked like horses#said all those other horses couldn’t carry a rider if their life depended on it and that’s what’s wrong with the halter ring today#and on the trail like I’ve ridden woody on the side of the highway at night#up a nearly vertical slope#through river beds with water up to his belly#we were even on tv riding across my college campus#so yeah#all this bragging to say we know what we’re doing lol#anyway he’s fine today#not even lame so I’m happy
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swordsandholly · 2 months
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part Nine: The Expo
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Your eyes widen to saucers as you climb out of John’s work van. The event hall in front of you is huge - the largest in the city. A big, glass dome with a high-end hotel attached. It glows in the morning sun. Lines of people have already formed out front. You passed them on your way around to the vendor entrance. It’s the twentieth anniversary for the Tattoo Expo, apparently, which means they expect massive crowds.
“I hate that Kyle couldn’t come.” You frown as a security worker hands over your badge. It’s fancy - heavy weight with brightly colored, neo-traditional graphics. Something about having the word VENDOR hanging around your neck makes your heart skip.
John sighs, heaving one of the boxes of his books onto your dolly. “Yeah. He tried but he couldn’t get his head out of the toilet long enough to do much of anythin’.”
You wrinkle your nose. Apparently he had caught some nasty stomach bug, poor guy. You thought about calling and checking in on him, but you worried that was too clingy. After… everything, you don’t want to come off as anything other than normal about it. Which you are. Totally normal.
At least Johnny was home for the day to help him out.
“Has Simon ever come?” You ask, titling the dolly pack to push into the convention hall.
John’s arms flex as he fights with his rolling tool box to get the handle back out so he can pull it. He just had to wear a sleeveless muscle tee, didn’t he? It’s rude, frankly. You look over his more rarely exposed shoulder and upper arm pieces - some more faded than others. Some more colorful, some better crafted. Part of you wants to reach out - to trace them the same way you want to with Simon. You want to ask him in detail about each one. Maybe he’ll let you, someday.
“Can you actually picture Simon in a convention hall?” He chuckles eventually, finally getting the toolbox rolling properly.
You laugh. “Guess not.”
The 141 booth sits in the center of the floor, surrounded by a few other big-name shops and figures in the community. You glance around at them, only recognizing a few. You don’t get much time to look around. There are only a couple hours designated for set up and you have to help hang all the flash options, get the cash box sorted, and be ready for the flood when it comes. You’ve mentally prepared for chaos, reading through pretty much every reddit and twitter thread you could find about convention disasters. You know that won’t happen here, and even if something did, John wouldn’t abandon you to it. Still, you feel better being mentally prepared for anything - no matter how unrealistic.
“Why do you still do these?” You ask, pinning one of the large flash sheets to the display board. “I mean - you don’t exactly have to get your name out there.”
“I enjoy them- the community. I was here when this was still bein’ held underground in an old warehouse.” John looks around, eyes scanning the rows of artists. He doesn’t share his thoughts, just stands there quietly for a moment with his hands on his hips. After a few beats he grumbles quietly, “Gettin’ old…”
You focus on setting up the front table where you’ll be stationed. John brought a few prints of work as well as several copies of his book. He brought a few signed ones as well, only selling them for about twenty more bucks than the usual price. You asked why he doesn’t mark them up more, but he just shrugged you off with a mutter of ‘I’m not all that’ before moving on to another task. You decided it was best not to argue that he is, indeed, all that. His books are literally filled until the late fall.
Maybe you shouldn’t be so proud of setting up a decently aesthetically pleasing display all on your own when you’re surrounded by real artists, but you still grin wide with your hands on your hips. It’s simple, with cards for each of the boys lining one sit and a roll of tattoo tickets for the day beside the cash box. The table cloth with the shop’s name looks nearly identical to the sign. One might call it lazy marketing, you find it charming.
“Somethin’ happen with you and Kyle?” John asks suddenly, back turned as he messes with something in his rolling tool box full of supplies.
You freeze, eyes wide and mouth dry. Did Kyle say something? You thought you’d been normal about it. Kyle hadn’t acted any differently - which shouldn’t have hurt your feelings - and you were sure you’d met him with the same level of normalcy. The past weeks race through your mind. Every moment, every interaction, picking each apart into threads in milliseconds.
“Uh, no? Why?” It comes out squeaky. Unsure. Lord, you really are a terrible liar.
John hums. He’s quiet for barely a beat, a moment that seems to stretch for lifetimes. You can almost feel your cells aging while you wait. “You’ve been quieter than usual around him. Just wanted t’make sure.”
“Oh.” Had you? You thought you’d been the same as always. Both of you totally moved on from… the incident. Well, except for those few times you caught yourself staring - zoning out while thinking about the way his lips pressed to yours. Imagining Kyle pulling you into the back room again. Another kiss with less nervousness and more heat. Actually bending you over the desk properly-
“Y’with me, love?” John snaps you back to reality.
“Yeah!” You jump and stutter. “Yeah. No. We’re fine. I’m… fine.”
You wonder if the giant guy in the weird homemade mask at the booth across from yours would smash your head in if you paid him. Let him free you from the torment of embarrassment. It had been eating away at you, if you’re honest with yourself, and now lying right to John’s face just feels… awful. He’ll find out. You know he will. Maybe he already knows as that was a test. Fuck if it was, you totally just failed.
The clock turns to nine, and you have no choice but to let that be a problem for your future self.
Something you realize rather quickly as the attendees begin to flood the hall is that John is a god here. People don’t meet his eye. They speak meekly, even to you, with voices low and faces flushed. The line for your booth stretches down the walkway as soon as the doors open - appointment tickets practically flying out of your hands. You overhear a pair of friends muttering about sleeping outside overnight to get in early enough for John’s booth. It makes your head spin.
You wonder if they’d still act that way if they saw him snoring open-mouthed at the desk in the back room mid-afternoon.
“Thought I heard 141 got a new front desk girl.” A syrupy southern accident lilts above you just as you finish selling tickets. He’s handsome. Blonde and blue eyed with a little scar gracing his cheekbone. Not much younger than John, you don’t think. Probably around Simon’s age.
You slip on your usual customer service smile. “Hello! How can I-”
“Graves.” John grunts behind you, not even looking up from the work in front of him. “What d’you want?”
“Just wanted to come see how you were.” The man - Graves - grins wide. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “And to meet your new front of house. Philip.”
You take the hand he holds out, giving a perfunctory shake and your name. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that John doesn’t like this guy, whoever he is, and you’re inclined to trust his judgement. You opt for basic small talk. “Are you an artist?”
Graves nods. “I own Shadow & Co. It’s a few blocks over from your place.”
Oh. You’d heard of them. They came highly recommended when you were looking for artists in the area initially. In the end you opted for John based entirely on vibes. The Shadow building is far too modern - to minimalist - for your liking. Too corporate.
“Y’know, we’re looking for a new desk girl as well.” Graves smiles. You do your best not to sneer at his use of desk girl. “We’re growing pretty quick - even if you wanted to split your time-”
“She’s full time with us.” John snaps - blatant irritation lining the edges of his voice. He still doesn’t turn around.
The blonde man pauses, glancing between you. Something passes over his eyes - some implicit knowing that you don’t quite get - but it’s gone just as fast as it came. He digs into his pocket, flipping open a too-new wallet and pulling out a business card. “Well, if you ever want to work somewhere more exciting-” you nearly laugh at that. “-give us a call, hm?”
You glance up to his face, then back down at the card. John’s tattoo gun continues to buzz behind you, but you can tell he’s slowed down. He’s listening. Before even really thinking you extend your hand, pushing the card he holds away from you.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m very happy here.”
Philip scoffs, dropping the card on the table. “Keep us in mind, yeah?”
He disappears into the crowd easily - blending in just like his shop’s namesake. Your nose wrinkles. You snatch up the card and tear it in two. “Dickhead.”
You think you hear John chuckling behind you, but can’t be sure over the roar of the convention.
The day flies by - people bustle by your booth. You run out of signed books just over halfway through - prints not long after. Your voice feels hoarse from talking to so many people. The hall has grown quite hot and you’re sure that your hair looks insane at this point. Either way, you’re having a great time. You get to talk to a with full body trash polka that you like for some reason. You get to meet one of the people involved in the stage competition - her massive thigh piece holding some of the best color work you’ve ever seen. All in all, despite the discomfort, you think this ranks in your top ten favorite days. Maybe top five.
“Excuse me?” Murmurs a voice so soft you almost miss it entirely over the roar of the convention. When you look up, you’re met with a painfully young face. Definitely not old enough for the 17+ entrance requirement.
“Hi!” You put on your warmest smile. “How can I help you?”
“I, uh, I was just…” They stutter, shifting in place. “I- Are there any signed copies left?”
You look them over, a too-familiar pang in your chest. You know those eyes, that anxiety. The jumpy way they look around at the people passing by and tug at their sleeves. Your teeth sink into your lip and you look over at the three blanks that make up your entire left over stock. Glancing over your shoulder, you see John finishing with his current client - giving the man a firm handshake before turning to clean up his station. There’s a fifteen minute break until the next one - his last for the night - and as much as you don’t want to take up his precious little time to set up…
“Let me check!” You squeak, shaky as you grab one of the blanks with all the subtlety of a brick over the head and cross the few feet over to where John sits. You lean over to speak in his ear, low enough that the kid won’t hear you. “John?”
“Hm?” He hums, turning slightly on his stool.
“Can you sign this one?” You chew your lip. “I know you had a set amount but this kid looks so…”
He glances behind you at the teenager in question, bashfully staring at their feet.
“I’m sorry, I know you need to set up for the next-”
John cuts you off by taking the book from your hands and standing.
“Thanks, dove.” He gives you that lovely, warm smile and rolls his shoulders before making his way over to the front table.
The teenager’s eyes go so wide you think they might pop out of their head. You decide to hang back and not interrupt their moment. John sets the book on the table and grabs a sharpie from your back up stash of pens. The kid mumbles something you can’t understand. John’s voice lowers as well. You can’t hear them, but you watch John scrawl something in the book and hand it over. He pushes away the crumpled, messy wad of cash the teenager tries to give him, shaking his head and saying something else that you don’t catch. The kid looks like they’re about to cry, a wide, wet grin splitting their face as they say goodbye and practically prance away.
You melt, shoulders slouching and what you’re sure is a very stupid smile breaking out across your lips. You don’t know why you doubted him for even a moment.
“What’s that face?” John scoffs, cocking a brow at you.
“Nothing.” You shake your head and re-take your spot at the table.
The ending of the convention is rather uneventful. Some of the other booths begin clearing up early. You take the time to count the cash box - which is absolutely stuffed to the brim. John rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck about five times in the span of a few minutes. Maybe you could convince them to do a company yoga class. It’s easy to see how tense and tired they get. You file that idea away for later.
Luckily most of the booth set up belonged to the venue and, since you sold out of books and prints, you don’t have haul those back to the van. All you have to take is John’s rolling toolbox and tattooing table. All things that easily fit in your bag and dolly. Thank god. Neither of you speak much on the drive back to the shop - opting for comfortable silence. Your ears ring ever so slightly from the noise of the convention hall. When you were in it, you hadn’t realized just how loud it was. John’s eyes are locked on the road, the slight glow from the setting sun warming his skin.
The sun just disappears over the horizon as you put the last of the equipment in the backroom - stacked rather messily but that’s another problem for future you. You’ve been working for a grand total of fourteen hours and, somehow, it still has yet to hit you. Adrenaline and excited energy still pulse under your skin.
John sighs loudly, crossing each arm over his chest to stretch them out. “Could really go for a scotch right now. You want a nightcap?”
Your cheeks warm, still riding high from the excitement of the day you agree easily. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
He gives you a gentle smile, softened further by the low street lights. “Let me show you a spot.”
The place John leads you to is small. Local. You sit at the bar and take a moment to look around. Three pool tables take up half the floor space. It looks like a small tournament is going on - a white board showing the matches and who will go against who next. Two ski-ball machines are tucked in a corner beside the bathroom, currently taken up by two younger men who you aren’t completely sure are drinking age. The lights and music are both low. One of the bartenders is posted up on the opposite end of the bar with two other people watching Shin Godzilla on the mounted television. It’s cozy and oh-so very John Price.
You get an easy sipper, something fruity and sweet as a treat for the long day you’ve had. It’s nice against the warmth of the summer evening. A heat that’s only aggravated by the one that settles in your spine whenever the guys are around. John especially.
“Think that kid was a little young for the event…” You blurt in a poor attempt to make conversation.
John nods along. “Definitely.”
“That was really nice of you. I didn’t want to… I don’t know.” You murmur, unsure why exactly the words won’t stop. You blame the drinks and exhaustion. Seems realistic enough. “They just seemed so sad.”
“Wasn’t nice. Just the right thing t’do.” John shrugs. His words come slow, almost as if he’s unsure if he should say them. Though, you find it hard to believe he has ever been unsure about anything in his life. “I know what its like… to need t’escape. Lied about my age just to enlist.”
Your eyes widen. “R-really?”
He hums. “They didn’t care much back then.”
For some reason you never thought about John’s childhood - his homelife. You know he has a mom somewhere. Kyle let it slip a couple of times - said she’s a really good cook. John doesn’t volunteer information about himself often, you gathered that much. He’s worse than Simon, somehow, which says a fucking lot.
“Did-” you mull over your words. “You didn’t grow up around here, yeah?”
It’s a clumsy attempt at getting him to talk, but it works well enough. He nods. “Hereford. My mum’s still out there.”
Score. “Do you visit her much?”
John shrugs, chuckling. “When I can. I could move back home and it wouldn’t be enough for her.”
You snicker.
“She’s the best woman I’ve ever known…” He murmurs, eyes far away. It’s only for a moment, but they look past you. Defocused in a way that seems to out of character for the hyper-aware man.
Your faces are close. Hunched in like school kids exchanging secrets and gossip during recess. Your eyes dart from his to his lips and back. It’s confusing. All of this. The intimacy you have with each of them in these moments is overwhelming. You like Kyle - you liked kissing Kyle - you really shouldn’t be wanting that from your boss, though. A co-worker is bad enough but John… John is off limits. You know that. Even so, you find yourself subconsciously leaning just a bit closer, eyes roving over the freckles you don’t see standing further away and the grey flecks in his eyes. You think, for barely a millisecond, that he leans in too.
Until he sits up straight, tossing back what little is left of his drink. “Let’s head out. Could go for a smoke.”
You nod, swallowing down your thoughts and following him out of the bar like a lost puppy. You’d follow him to the end of the earth, you think. Even if it hurts that you can’t get as close as you want, you’d go anywhere for him. Yeah, that’s definitely the drink and tiredness talking. Part of you also knows that it is undoubtedly true.
John rounds a corner to the side of the bar. It’s moderately lit, a single street lamp just down the way giving you just enough light to see. You lean against the wall beside John, the exhaustion beginning to cling to your eyes.
“Are you?” John asks suddenly.
“Hm?” You hum, unsure of what he’s asking about.
“Happy here?” He cuts the end off a cigar he pulled from the silver box that lives in his back pocket.
In the low light of the alley, his pupils overtake most of his irises. Dark and intense as he looks you over from head to toe. You see it, suddenly. The god that the others do. He’s not as physically large as Simon, or as loud as Johnny, but he fills every inch of any space he enters regardless. You suppose you became so used to being in that radius that you forgot just how much presence he carries. You’ve wrapped yourself in it like a blanket. A shield.
Your cheeks warm and you shuffle your feet. “I… yeah.”
“Good.” John sighs out a cloud of smoke. “It’d be a pain in the arse to replace you. The boys care about you too much.”
You stare up at him. You can feel something on the edge of his tone - some weight that you don’t understand. There always seems to be another layer to the things he says. Implications that you can’t understand, context that you’re missing. Part of you wants to ask, needs to ask, but the words get stuck in your throat. What would you say? You’re not even entirely sure what you need to ask. You know they care about you, and you care for them in turn, so why does it feel like there’s something missing?
“Does the boys include you?” You blurt, one again wishing that big guy from the convention was here to smash your head in like wile e. cayote and the anvil.
He looks you up and down, slightly taken aback while you debate on bolting. “Thought that was obvious.”
You scoff, still flustered. “You’re hard to read.”
“Am I, now?”
You nod. A comfortable silence falls over you, despite the awkwardness surely emanating from you. Your lip catches between your teeth, eyes on your feet. “John?”
“Dove?” He tilts his head, once again leaning ever so slightly closer to you.
“Thank you. For everything.” You murmur, voice low and unsure. “It’s… it’s really good here.”
“Think nothin’ of it, love.”
You look up at those pretty blue eyes. They always make your chest ache with some deep hole you haven’t been able to pin down. At first you could blame it on wanting to do well - to be a good employee. It’s more than that, though. It starts in your chest and seeps it’s way through the rest of you. A want. A craving. That’s the word. You crave those eyes on you. The weight of his hands, the fortitude of him.
You’re not sure who closes the gap - whether it’s you or him - but either way it closes. It’s too natural for the context of your relationship. You slot together too well. It’s not like with Kyle. John carries an intensity with him that Kyle never could. His beard scratches not unpleasantly. His lips are warm - you can taste hints of scotch and his cigar. He smells of spice and earth. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders - unsure of where to put them.
This is wrong. It’s messy. You already lied about Kyle, which he’ll surely find out. If he hasn’t already. What about Johnny? Or Simon? Will they think less of you? Are you less for this? For impulsively kissing your boss in some back alley? Will Kyle be angry if he finds out? Your thoughts surge, all chaotic waves crashing against each other in an attempt to make sense of this situation you find yourself in.
John’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your arms drape around his neck as you push onto your tips toes to meet him.
That’s a problem for future you.
A/N: Sorry this part took so long, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to escalate it or not but I want to get a move on with these boys
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maxlarens · 4 months
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CL: guess the heat drives people crazy
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pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader
summary: you’re not used to having a boyfriend, let alone having a famous one. though you’d like to think you’re taking your new found status as a wag in your stride. charles certainly thinks so. [smau] [part 2 to this fic]
fc: faceless and some alexandra saint mleux
a/n: sorry this took so long! i was honestly kinda unsure how i wanted to do this. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to do a little storyline but i basically ended up just doing a bunch of little snapshots of their relationship 😇
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@ynusername just posted…
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liked by @rowan, @charlesleclerc and others
ynusername wildflowers, the waves where we met, on the way to our first dinner
chloegarelli i did that!☝🏻☝🏻
⤷ ynusername okay 😐 dont get too big for ur britches
user1 is that……..?
⤷ user2 CHARLES RIGHT?
⤷ user1 yes wtf!?
⤷ user3 you are delusional you can only see his hands
⤷ user2 AND?? he is in her likes
rowan we did it joe‼️
⤷ chloegarelli four years in the making iktr
⤷ chloegarelli i’d like to thank the american people and i’d like to thank democracy for this win
⤷ ynusername we are MONEGASQUE?
⤷ ynusername anyway u guys are the most insane couple i have ever met
⤷ rowan and you’re stuck with us foreverrrr
user4 no one is talking about how adorable this is. the waves where we met like UR KIDDING!
⤷ user5 if she is actually dating charles then he is literally the luckiest man alive
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@f1wagupdates just posted…
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tagged @ynusername @charlesleclerc
liked by @chloegarelli, @ynusername and others
f1wagupdates ‼️🚨 new wag alert 🚨‼️ monegasque painter yn yln has been spotted getting cozy with charles on his yacht. it’s believed they met while on holiday in italy several months ago🥺
user1 fell to my knees in the grocery store
⤷ user1 THAT SHOULD BE ME
⤷ user1 but if it had to be anyone else im glad its her
user2 oh i KNEW that was him on her instagram three months ago. vindication.
user3 stop she is so pretty
⤷ user4 like attracts like
rowan cats out of the bag @chloegarelli
⤷ chloegarelli WE DID THIS EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU
⤷ user5 thank you oh my god
⤷ user6 THANK YOU
⤷ charlesleclerc thank you😁
[❤️ by f1wagupdates]
user7 need to see them together at a race
⤷ user8 CHARLES GET HER ON THE PADDOCK
⤷ charlesleclerc 🫡
ynusername oh my god. not the picture of him pushing me into the water😐
⤷ user9 OH i love her ur honour
⤷ f1wagupdates I’M SORRY!
⤷ rowan don’t apologise its so perfect
⤷ charlesleclerc Stop I tripped!!!!!!!!! I told you!!!!!
⤷ ynusername u did NOT trip!!!!
⤷ user10 they are my everything wtf
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@ynusername just posted…
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tagged @charlesleclerc
liked by @charlesleclerc @f1 @scuderiaferrari and others
ynusername charles, the week we met we talked about what the monaco gp meant to you. the place your dreams took root, the one race you wanted so badly it hurt, the city you wanted to love you back. i could feel your yearning for that win as deeply as i feel for my own ambitions. i knew then that we understood each other like i have never understood anyone else in my life. and i knew, somehow i knew, that you would be on the top step of that podium. charles, i am endlessly proud of you and all the hard work you did to get here. you deserve this. i love you. and monaco loves you.
user1 charles monaco gp win you are everything to me
user2 they’re in love in love!!! WTFFFF
scuderiaferrari ❤️
user3 god let me have what they have i cant handle this
chloegarelli im tearing up yall are like my babies
user4 HE DID IT!!!!
charlesleclerc oh I love you I love you I love you
⤷ charlesleclerc How would I have done this without you?
⤷ ynusername I am so proud of you baby. I love you ❤️
⤷ user5 this interaction changed lives
⤷ user6 how do i reasonably find love after this. how am i supposed to be satisfied with anything less???
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🎨 i just KNOW her caption would make the rounds on tumblr
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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into the arms of another part two | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
part two to this !! part three
yourusername
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liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 661,230 others
yourusername: winner winner chicken dinner !! congrats maxy i’m so proud of you always
view all comments
user1: i know charles’ head is hot right now
user2: i hope netflix are taking notes cause this tea is steaming hot
maxverstappen1: thank you baby, helps when i have the prettiest cheerleader in the world
yourusername: i am the sexiest sargent in all of the orange army
maxverstappen1: too right you are
user3: i miss when y/n was the head of the tifosi the red monochromatic fits ate so hard
user4: i need charles to pull his head out of his ass and apologise so we can reclaim her before monza
user5: do not even bring up the fact we may not have custody of her for monza
danielricciardo: leave some for the rest of us maxy
yourusername: no actually i think it’s illegal for max not to win sorry
danielricciardo: will that change if charlie apologises?
yourusername: considering that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon - no.
user6: CHARLES PLEASE DO SOMETHING
user7: he doesn’t have to do anything, she’s just bitter cause she’s always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. we ALL know she’s always loved charles and she can’t handle that she’s not the centre of his attention it’s kinda pathetic
maxverstappen1: what made you think you know any of us enough to comment something like this? what told you that you even had a right to talk about y/n like that? she’s everything you could ever wish to be and more and she will never ever deserve the things you people are saying about her. charles would be lucky to have y/n in his life platonically or romantically but it’s his loss
user8: boyf of the year right here
user9: charles take note ^^^ this is how you’re meant to defend your best friend
landonorris: i am once again asking for photo credits i’m not gonna be your personal photographer for free
maxverstappen1: i literally paid for your dinner
yourusername: you’re literally a millionaire
landonorris: i don’t care a man still likes to be wined and dined
yourusername: just to make it clear we are not looking for a third
user10: i promise i can change your mind give me a chance
f1tea
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liked by user11, user12 and 2,349 others
f1tea: charles leclerc caught liking this tweet about the situation between him and y/n. seems like he won’t back down on this. what do you think?
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user13: i need this mans head on a spike i’m so serious
user14: i want to play pinball with the single marble in his head
user15: i think ferrari have genuinely caused real head rot in him cause no way he thinks this is a serve
user16: let's be real charles' biggest rivals are ferrari and himself
user17: not this man at his BIG AGE is liking shady tweets about his best friend
user18: i think it's safe to say they're not best friends any more
user19: also "biggest rival" my ass max and charles are fucking friends now so this whole narrative is complete horse shit
user20: i'm so bored of charles playing the victim bro YOU ARE THE INSTIGATOR YOU ARE THE PROBLEM
user21: the way charles is liking shit like this but max is writing whole ass essays in the comments defending her
user22: and that''s why i'll always back that she ended up with the right man
user23: max is so far in the lead in the championship i need him to take charles out for the narrative
user24: are we in high school? like seriously this is so fucking petty i cannot wait for media day this weekend
user25: he's either gonna be the funniest man in the world or he's gonna bite someones fucking head off
user26: and i'll back it either way
user27: i know y/n is about to have her revenge dress moment in the paddock someone get kym illman ready STAT.
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by lilymunhe, carmenmundt and 4,530 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: REVENGE DRESS MOMENT !!! y/n y/ln enters the paddock in monza in this stunning black dress, showing the world what a catch she is, oh and that is max holding the umbrella for her, what a gentleman.
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user28: mother came to slay i cannot even
user29: this right after max came for charles in the press conference is PERFECTION + NO RED IN MONZA !!
user30: i see lily and carmen in the likes in knew they'd be on the right side
user31: girl i don't think anyone is on charles' side
user32: yall see the stink eye from the red bull garage when charles walked past they have y/n's back LOL
user33: the red bull garage been ride or dies for max so it defo makes sense that they would extend that to y/n
user34: christian was defo waiting for a question about it in the press conference
user35: someone on twitter got a clip of him putting his arm around fred going out of the paddock and telling him to get his driver under control
user36: yall are we on the kardashians what the fuck is going on
user37: people may hate christian but he defends his driver so much that he's inserting himself in the relationship drama
user38: i don't even follow f1 but whoever this is this serving oh my
user39: this is so exhausting like i need charles to just apologise so we can get cute y/n x max x charles content
user40: torturing myself thinking about how cute that dynamic could be
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f1
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,203,457 others
f1: max verstappen clinches his tenth win of the season at monza, joined by sergio perez and oscar piastri. home heroes charles leclerc and carlos sainz came together at turn one, awful showing for ferrari in monza
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user41: this narrative is so so poetic
user42: i feel bad for the tifosi at this point y'all get your hopes up every season
user43: charles you aimed the wrong way if you wanted to take max out
user44: the way max kissed y/n after winning god they're so cute
user45: also the way christian got everyone to move so y/n could get to the front to see max
user46: even marko looked happy about it what is going on?
user47: y'all we knew it was gonna be bad for ferrari y/n wasn't wearing red, call me superstitious but every time she's worn red charles has either won or been on the podium
user48: well that's just what he gets for not appreciating her
user49: as fernando would say KARMA
user50: someone check charles' blood pressure please
maxverstappen1
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liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,304,662 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: winning on and off the track, some of you can't relate.
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user51: parents omg
danielricciardo: fighting words maxy, not pulling your punches
maxverstappen1: i do my fighting on the track, not my fault people can't get past turn one to give me a real battle
danielricciardo: i need to be inside your brain
maxverstappen1: no there's images of y/n in my brain that no other man will ever see
danielricciardo: you crack me up maxy
yourusername: woah who's that fine ass piece of woman
maxverstappen1: she's taken sorry
yourusername: that's a shame, i hope that man is taking care of her
maxverstappen1: i don't believe she's got any complaints
yourusername: wow you sound like a gentleman, she's a lucky woman
maxverstappen1: believe me i am the lucky one.
yourusername: awwww maxy you're literally the sweetest person in the world
user52: if i was charles and i saw this after that race you'd have to restrain me i'm so serious
user53: i'm happy for y/n and max but i need them to stop being happy in my face
alexalbon: ur welcome for that first picture btw
yourusername: lily taught you well
alexalbon: so no thanks?
yourusername: i joke thank you very much sir albon
user54: so like all of the twitch quartet are on y/n's side? awkward.
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, 706,835 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: charles and i have been best friends since i knew what the word meant and it really hurts that is has gotten to this point. when charles got his first girlfriend i chalked it up to the excitement of the experience, but when he routinely got in and out of relationships and falling back on our friendship once scorned, i started to question what he really felt about our friendship. i overlooked it every time even when it made me doubt my worth and hoped our friendship meant more. however, the cycle continued and after being left stranded at a beach in a country i do not know i decided it was the end. i have reached out to you so, so many times and want nothing more than our friendship to work and so we can be life-long friends that we can tell our kids about. but i guess it's not worth that much to you and that's something i'll have to reconcile with. the only positive coming from this the fact that it pushed me to the love of my life, so thank you for that.
comments are turned off.
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charles_leclerc
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liked by joristrouche, pierregasly and 1,305,783 others
charles_leclerc: i've already got my trophy, sorry not sorry.
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user56: WHAT THE FUCK
user57: my brain is actually scrambled
user58: charles' must be as well cause no way he thought this was a good idea
landonorris: so this is a low blow
charles_leclerc: since when were you the reference point for morals
landonorris: damn dude, you're in the wrong but go off i guess
user59: why do i actually want to cry for y/n right now? she did this whole ass heartfelt post with no comments so people wouldn't be able to speculate and he replies with a pic of his gf's ASS
danielricciardo: not cool dude
charles_leclerc: i see you all took her side and our friendships mean fuck all
danielricciardo: kinda ironic you bring up respecting friendships
charles_leclerc: spare me the lecture
maxverstappen1: you're a child. but this is the closure she needs. cheers to being an asshole.
charles_leclerc: so you managed to get some of my sloppy seconds, you're welcome
maxverstappen1: she's not sloppy seconds and i can't believe you'd refer to her as that. but if you wanna talk sloppy seconds you can hold the 100 point gap between us in the championship. and y/n will never say this so i'll say it for her GO FUCK YOURSELF
user60: SHOTS FIRED
user61: men are so confusing
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yourusername added to their story
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[caption: taking some time for myself. thank you for your kind words and know i have an amazing support system around me now]
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user65, user66 and 5,430 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
f1wagsupdates: charles leclerc spotted outside y/n y/ln's office with flowers this afternoon. idk at this point, any time i report on this man i lose more brain cells.
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user67: lol even wag page admins are done
f1wagsupdates: he gives me a lot of content but damn he needs to sort his head out
user68: lol this is gonna be an all time apology tour i can't wait
user69: i honestly don't want y/n to forgive him he doesn't deserve it.
user70: yeah max has proven ride or die for y/n so i know who she should stick with
user71: i need him to donate his brain to science cause in what world is a measly bouquet of flowers gonna cover all of this shit ?
user72: legit he's systematically ditched his best friend, let randomers on the internet drage her name through the mud and then liked it and then flaunted the fact that he didn't care about their friendship for everyone to see
maxverstappen1: lol nice try
user73: my petty king i love him so much
user74: i know y/n is taking a break from social media but i hope she knows how much love she's getting
user75: for real we're all on her side i hope she slammed that door in charles' face
user76: i hope that bouquet ended up in the bin
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maxverstappen1 added to their story
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[caption: special delivery for a special girl]
note: i know this was heavily requested so here it is!! i really like it and it's defo open for a third part if yall want charles and y/n to reconcile? thank you for reading xx
3K notes · View notes
23victoria · 1 month
Text
off the table
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pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader
word count: 13k
warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov
authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!
want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE
f1 masterlist 1k celebration
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You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.
That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."
Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.
From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.
There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.
One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.
"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."
You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."
He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"
You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."
There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."
You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.
One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.
After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.
"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.
He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."
He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"
Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.
When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."
You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."
As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.
He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.
"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.
"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.
"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"
He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."
In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.
Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.
The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.
"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.
He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."
"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.
"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."
You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."
He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."
As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.
On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.
"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.
You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."
He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.
As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.
So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.
You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.
But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.
One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.
As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.
He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."
You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.
"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.
There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."
You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."
"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.
"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.
As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.
There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.
Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.
And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.
It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.
Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."
You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.
"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."
The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.
On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.
Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.
At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?
So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.
To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.
The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.
You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…
You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.
Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”
The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.
Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”
You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”
Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”
You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”
He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”
His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”
“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”
You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”
“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”
A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.
“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.
“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”
You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”
“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”
The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.
When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.
As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.
But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.
You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.
And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.
"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."
He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."
His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.
You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.
Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.
"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.
"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.
From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.
Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.
But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.
Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.
The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.
You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.
The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.
Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.
Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.
The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.
The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.
The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.
Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.
You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.
You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.
“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”
“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.
“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”
You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.
“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”
“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”
“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”
“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”
“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”
You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.
“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”
You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”
“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”
“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”
“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”
“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”
There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”
Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”
The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.
“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.
“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.
The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.
You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.
You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.
The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.
You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.
As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.
"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.
"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"
You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.
The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.
Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.
"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.
"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.
His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.
You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.
Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.
As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.
And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.
But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.
Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.
But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.
You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.
As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.
"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."
Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.
"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.
There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.
Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.
"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.
"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."
He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."
His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.
As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.
You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.
You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.
“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”
He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”
You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”
Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”
“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”
“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.
“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”
Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.
Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.
As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?
“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.
As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.
“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.
“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.
Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.
He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.
"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.
Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.
"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.
He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.
"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.
Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.
"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.
"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."
You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."
His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.
"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.
The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .
Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.
"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."
You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.
"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."
Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."
Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.
"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."
Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."
The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.
As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.
"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.
Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."
Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."
Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.
Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.
When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.
When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."
You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."
Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."
With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.
As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.
With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.
Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.
When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.
As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.
You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.
You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.
His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.
Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."
You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.
"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."
He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.
But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.
"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.
He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."
He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.
"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."
You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.
"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."
You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.
But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.
He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"
You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.
But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.
Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.
"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.
"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.
Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.
He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.
Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.
He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.
Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."
You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."
He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.
"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."
He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.
You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.
.•☆.°. taglist ☆.°.• . @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa   @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @oliviah-25
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ingydar-phan · 1 month
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Ok I do want to chime in on the convo but actually this is gonna be really long because I’ve been planning to make a huge post about this since the tour trailer came out. Like genuinely I messaged some people asking for tips on how to make a big conversation post weeks ago and then just never did it. So here goes I guess.
I am a firm believer they are going to hard launch soon. In some way shape or form. Before tour starts. That is a stance I have held ever since I watched pizza mukbang 2. And I have explanations.
My main points come from the coming out parallel surrounding Dans internalized homophobia and trauma responses and fear of rejection (more on that later), and also my hypothesized “3 stages” of the gaming channel revival.
I believe that when the gaming channel was revived, starting with the Heartthrob video, they entered stage 1: experimenting with audiences desire for a return to content. This was a phase they themselves discussed in Dans Birthday Stream and in Pizza Mukbang 2. The first few months were experimenting with what a new audience would look like and how much they were wanted, in what contexts, and what kind of content. I also think this wraps into the dynamic difference between Dan and Phil as people. Note, I love them both dearly and want nothing but the best for them both. It has been made clear that they did very different things during the hiatus, with Phil initiating the gaming channel comeback. Before Dan came out, he was under an immense feeling of guilt and pressure, even by his own mind. He had the option of leaving the internet forever, and he certainly considered it. Finish off the gaming channel, go on one last tour, and leave. Never having to adress anything again. But he didn’t do that. He came back. He came out. And he was greeted with the kindest, warmest, most accepting response. And he did work! He wrote a book! He went on a solo tour! And to echo both Dan himself and all of the community, he needed this. He needed this time of healing and this era of self discovery. He wouldn’t be who he is today without it, and I’m so proud of him.
But Phil? Oh Phil was just cruising along. That’s not at all to discredit any form of hardship Phil went through, but it certainly wasn’t the same. Phil was making content before Dan was, back in 2006. In uni, Phil was comfortable in his sexuality (or some form of queerness). But he waited. He waited to come out until Dan was ready. Because he’s a wonderful partner. He was happy continuing Amazingphil regardless of hiatus, of Dans needs, because he knew he didn’t have to pressure Dan into anything he didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. And then, presumably when Dan was ready, Phil proposed a gaming channel comeback. Just try it out, just see how it feels, low commitment. And what happened? Once again, they were showered with love and adoration and support and acceptance. Was the fandom different than how it used to be? Absolutely. But it was beautiful and loving. So that’s stage 1. Experimenting with content and viewership and re-entering the branding of Dan and Phil (Games).
Then, I believe after stage 1 came stage 2. Experimenting with audience reaction to Dan and Phil as a couple. I want to stake my claim here that everything they do is meticulously curated. Sure, Phil’s toe popping out of his sock wasn’t purposeful, but it was certainly handled intentionally. They’re extremely seasoned creators, and everything they do is for a reason. (That’s why I love rpf hehe). This, my “stage 2”, is when they were dipping their toes more into phan stuff. The orange heart. The “gay” community tab. Using the “ph-“ prefix THEMSELVES a lot more. Dab and Evan comparisons. This was the middle ground. How would people react? Would they turn away because it’s too much? Would they begin stalking and creeping all over again? Or would they accept these people for what they are. As much as people like to think Dan and Phil are just silly whimsical guys who are perfect no matter what they do (which is accurate as well tbf), they also know what they’re doing. They do these things on purpose to gauge audience reaction, to see how people feel about it. As others have said, what we see publicly is just a tiny sliver of their real life. Yea, even the domestic videos. It’s curated. And it’s wonderful. It’s so endearing they choose to share these things. Even in times of uncertainty. But that uncertainty was met with absolute acceptance.
Which is how we get into stage 3. I think “stage 3” started developing around the time of Dans Birthday Stream, but really actually started when the tour trailer was posted, and then all the videos after that (pizza mukbang, dressing each other, chained together, tiktoks, etc etc). So, very recently. But something shifted. Maybe it’s in the air, maybe it’s just me, maybe we all need to go outside. But something shifted. Dan and Phil, but especially Dan, saw how they were being accepted and took that as an affirmation. An affirmation that everything is going to be okay. They can commit now. They can go full on. Full hard launch.
I think everyone has a different definition of hard launch, and even I think it varies by context. But what I mean here is not necessarily them making some video called “Dan and Phil are romantically together” and staring at the camera with a gun to their head. It doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be that.
Straight people get this privilege of being assumed straight without having to “come out”. They get this comfort of having relationships without having to scream it in everyone’s faces.
And I do indeed agree with what people mean when they say they have already hard launched. They’re husbands, soulmates, 4000 year old tortoises, “basically any other gay couple”, more than just romantic, yea. I get it. But people are fucking stupid. Non-queer people don’t understand nuance, and need everything handed to them on a silver platter. Dan and Phil are together. People who try to twist and turn to try and “prove” they’re anything but a committed romantic and sexual relationship are ignorant at best, but mainly using homophobic wishful thinking. However, there’s more to go. There’s a reason we’re all “terrified” for what is to come. Because everything, the past 15 years of all of our lives, of their life, is coming together. It’s genuinely beautiful.
So what do I mean by hard launch then? Well, I mean a lack of censorship (besides what’s reasonable. Though we’d all love to see them fuck on YouTube, I’m not sure that’s happening any time soon). I mean a lack of shame. A lack of hiding. And it’s already begun. That’s what I feel stage 3 to be and have been. In pizza mukbang 2, they say things such as “cheers dear”, which is intentional. The “gay uncles” and the “kneeing” is all intentional. It’s not just throwaway jokes, it’s them looking us in the eyes and saying “we see you”. I have a whole list of stage 3 things. The intentional Incohearant cards. The “my face hurts from smiling” comments. THE HANDS ON THE SHOULDER TO THE HAND ON THE KNEE. Them being so open about their secluded romantic holiday. The relentless Phil bottom jokes. The yaoi day tweet from the outfits video. The “who would jump for you like that dog jumped for that man” “you”. It’s all there. It’s all intentional. And I’m so grateful for it.
One of my mutuals who I talked about this with (not gonna name cuz idk if they want me to) talked about their theory that DNP have given barely any info about tour because it requires some form of hard launch to preface it. And honestly? I didn’t even realize that was a theory. I sort of already accepted that as fact. How open IS the door gonna be?
So yea, I hope this makes sense. Please feel free to respond with or send asks of any nuances or questions or theories you’d like to add. I don’t intend this to be shaming anyone who thinks differently. Even if I may vehemently disagree with someone in my head, I don’t think these people are evil or malicious or objectively bad or deserving of hate. These are just my thoughts. I’ll likely be adding more. Thanks for reading.
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no1deepspacehater · 2 months
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⸻⋅☾SYLUS - NSFW ABC's☽⋅⸻
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TW: Spoilers, General TW (It's Sylus, c'mon now) and mentions of CNC (he doesn't like it, it's just mentioned)
AN: Since he's come out i've been spending so much time exploring his character and unlocking his myths!! This man has me in a chokehold. I'm so sorry Xavier.
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
He’s gonna have you in his hold for a bit, he’s not a big cuddler, but he wants you to come down nicely. So it’s a bit of him watching you relax and whipering how good you were etc for a bit.
Then, mostly for him, he’s gonna have a bit of wine (he’s such an alcoholic).
He’ll offer you a bath and shower, which he does take even if you don’t want to (remember, aftercare goes both ways, this is his way to relax.)
But don’t worry, if you want some cuddles he’s willingly, after much teasing of how much of a needy kitten you are.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Everything is his favourite part.
But if he has to choose, his arms and hands.
He’s put a lot of hours into training, without his evol he can still strangle the light from someone’s life on his own and punch the daylight out of them too.
For you, he is an ass and tits man. Why does he have to choose? He can and will have both.
Loves to see a curvy dress on you that shows off your physique. His hand is so quick to slide around your waist, proud to have a good looking person like you by his side to show off.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Thick, clear ropes of the stuff. He almost gets annoyed with how messy it can be.
Not that he’s opposed to covering you with the stuff, no he just prefers to fill you with it.
Loves tasting you, and having you coat his entire hand with your essence.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
During his surveillance of you (stalking), has watched you bathed and shower at least once or twice.
Didn’t make it a habit, even he has lines, but he’s found himself enraptured with just watching you do these simple things.
It weird because he doesn’t watch you masturbate, nor masturbate himself really during the times he watched you shower.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Knows about sex. Fucks.
He’s experienced, you can’t tell me otherwise. He’s had a few workers here and there.
He also knows that just because he has experience with other women, doesn’t mean he knows all about your likings.
But trust, he’ll spend all night learning you.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Reverse and regular cowgirl, surprisingly.
Bet let’s dissect, even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s of course in control.
He has no trouble holding you down on top of him, or moving you up and down on him.
And of course, the sight is beautiful to him, he’s in close reach of everything, and of course, most of the time you have no other option to be face to face with him.
Where he can really see wha’t going on in your mind.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
I wouldn’t say he’s overly serious, but if you call his constant teasing humorous then he’s fucking hilarious.
But yes, he’s more focused on whispering the most outright naaesstttiest filth close into your ear while you come undone before him.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Shaved down to a minimum and neat. He has his own (very high quality) clippers for down there. Takes pride in his look.
Wouldn’t mind if you like to keep things natural, but does like to have things low for you as well.
Hell, he’ll go crazy if you have some type of design on it!
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
He’s more of a dirty romantic.
But he can be sweet, in his own way.
Telling you how much he adores you, your sounds, your body.
Soft touches, handling you delicately at times.
And he keeps you pretty close during the act, lots of skin to skin touching.
His kisses range from feather light to deep kisses, and leaving marks is definitely one of his acts of affection.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
This might be crazy, but hear me out.
I do not see this man masturbating often.
Maybe like ONCE in a literal blue moon, like if he’s deadly bored. (And let’s face it, he’s too much of a busy man to be bored.)
Also, he’s the most powerful man in the N109 zone, and basically has most of Linkon in his hands, I’m sure he will find someone (You) that will satisfy his needs.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Need I say, BLOOD KINK!?!
Yeah, he get’s down like that, and I will die on this hill.
He’d love to see your pathetic attempts at trying to make him flinch as you draw a blade against his skin, it winds him up.
Won’t go too crazy on you, but let’s just say you’re going to need a bandage for that bike mark.
Ropes, whips, cuffs, he’s into that entire scene, anything to make you submit to him.
Vibrators are common place, one of his favourite things to do is to watch you fall apart without even laying a finger on you.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
One of his many secluded castles or cabins. He can get you as loud as he wants there.
Not that he really cares if anyone hears the both of you.
Prefers to be in a comfortable place really, but doesn’t mind if you want to get dirty in a semi-public place (Like a private room, clubs, office).
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you stand your ground.
Once, you pistol whipped a high ranking gangster during an undercover mission, after he ‘joked’ about a female being in a room. Then you proceeded to berate him and his whole crew coldly and put him in his place.
He was rock hard after that. Wanted to take you then and there.
Also has a thing for you being bratty, replying smartly to his teasing. Makes him want to fuck it out of you.
Seeing you dressed up. He knows you’re not materialistic, and neither is he, but seeing you in a fitting outfit that you bought with his card (that probably cost thousands), drives him crazy.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Consensual-non-consensual, or noncon stuff. Yes, he likes when you’re bratty and put up a fight a little, but not in that way. (He sees the effect of trafficking in the N109 zone, and doesn’t feel comfortable seeing anyone portray that.)
Anything that involves other types of bodily fluids, yes, that type of stuff. He finds it weird.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
LOVES a blowjob with all his cold heart. Would never say no. He can be kind of a head pusher, because he knows it ticks you off, but if you’re not comfortable he can resists, he just likes to hear you choking on him.
Does also like to eat you out, only if you’re cool with him doing it to the point of much overstimulation (he’s going to do that anyway).
P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Definitely prefers Slow, sensual, but DEEP!!
You swear, you don’t know how he does it, but he’s gotten to places you can’t even reach with a dildo.
He’ll go wild sometimes and fuck you with sharp, sudden movements, because he’s close but he wants you to come before him (But he won’t tell you that).
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Prefers to have his way with you.
He can get busy at times, so he’s not always available for that. He tends to disappear randomly in the night and show up randomly.
If you beg him enough, rile him up enough secretly, he will not hesitate to push you up against a wall in an alleyway and give you what you’re asking for, just know that he always ties up loose ends, and we will be continuing later.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He’s very open, apart from the hard no’s.
Likes the heart pounding excitement from taking new, kind of dangerous risks.
Won’t do anything that will put you in serious danger or grievous harms way.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
If it’s night, he’s going to town.
But that’s mostly because he’s taking his time with you.
Short refractory period after the first 2-3 times, then after the 5th time he’s just focused on making you cum.
If it’s the day, let’s say about 2, maybe three rounds max. He’s definitely less energized because he’s normally asleep.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Not really toys, since the handcuffs, muzzles and whips have actually been used for other affairs... But they’re multipurpose, anyway, or so he says.
Does invest in vibrators and the like when he sees how much he can do to you with them.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Do you really have to ask this, for SYLUS?
The man was practically born to tease. You think it’s his new way of trying to kill you, or drive you insane, at least.
If he’s really feeling like a prick, he’s denying your orgasm a couple times, and punishing you hard if you do, by overstimulating you until you’re shaking.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He’s not a moaner, honestly, if he wasn’t talking you through it most of the time it’d be deadly quiet.
He’ll let out a grunt here and there, a breathy sigh that still gets you weak occasionally.
But of course, he’s talking you through it, and his vocabulary is quite expressive.
With his baritone voice, he could be talking about pineapples and it’d still get you going.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
He knows the twins have been trying to eavesdrop sometimes.
Once, you asked if they could watch, and he allowed it.
He can always tell when they're there, and tells you that you spoil them too much.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Big, I don’t care, argue with the wall.
Okay okay, more length than girth if we’re being real, but he’s not skinny either.
At least 9 inches. He’s GIGANTIC, look at him! Def a shower.
VEINY!! Decorated from tip to balls.
His entire shaft turns red from stimulation, the tip being the brightest. It rivals his eyes.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Surprisingly not that high, honestly.
Sure, he likes to tease and rile you up, but it’s not like he’s expecting or wanting sex just because.
Can go pretty long without it honestly, there are other ways of having his fun with you.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Unless it’s in the morning/day, he’s staying awake.
Sex is one of the few energy-inducing activities for him that will keep him awake for hours.
Will probably play with your hair, or just lay by you for a while until taking a short nap himself, maybe sipping a few wines to relax him.
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lottiies · 2 months
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TIARAS AND TEACUPS
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→ just some fluffy drabbles and headcanons on leon being a girl dad
NOTE: listen i don’t even want kids in the future but for this man?? if he was real and mine then trust i would change my mind real quick ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
this is pretty short, less than 1k words hehe
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i.
Leon would never hear the end of it from his coworkers if they saw him like this. There was a plastic tiara with fake pink jewels resting atop his hair. He was sitting criss cross applesauce, for he was a little too big to sit on the tiny chairs his daughter had placed her plushies on.
“Daddy, here’s your cup!” She chimed happily, placing a small toy teacup right in front of him.
“Thank you princess, it’s a pretty set.” His hand could easily cover the entire cup, but to be graceful, he held the handle with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s on the menu?”
“Brownies and…and cookies.” She had a small container of them, having gotten some from the batch you baked the other night. “I’m gonna go get mommy, make sure Mrs. Teddy doesn’t drop her tea!”
Leon looked so out of place, but he was happy, watching with a smile as his daughter ran out of the room to go get you. And surely enough, you joined the tea party a couple minutes later, a matching headpiece on your head and your daughter giggling as she tugged you by the hand and took you to where she wanted you to sit.
You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh when you saw Leon, and he seemed to catch on, grinning at you. “Look who’s late.”
“Fashionably late.” You corrected him as you pointed at your crown, taking a seat on the floor.
“Yay all my guests are here! I’ll hand out the food but don’t eat without me, okay?”
Leon was always emotional when he was in the same room as the two people he treasured the most.
He could still remember when his daughter was just a newborn baby. He almost broke down that day as soon as he heard her first cries, he never thought he’d get the blessing of parenthood.
ii.
If there’s one thing about Leon as a dad, it’s that he really has no backbone when it comes to his adorable daughter. Lecturing wasn’t his strong suit, he just wanted to spoil her. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knack for finding trouble so he didn’t have to worry all that much.
Here Leon was opening the letter he had gotten from his daughter’s elementary school, skimming through it only to see all the positive commentary the homeroom teacher had left. He was a proud father, and he took her on a trip to the store so she could pick out something nice.
“Don’t worry your little head about the price, okay? You deserve something special, you’re doing so well at school.” He gave her head a gentle pat, staying close behind her energetic form as she scanned the aisle for toys.
Toys. Great. Leon was sure he would sob when his little girl started asking for electronics and cosmetics. God, how he wished these years didn’t fly by so quickly. He had to make the most of them.
“Anything? Even a scooter?”
“Uh huh, even a scooter. Want one?”
“Yeah they’re awesome! Can we go look at them? I wanted to ask for one last Christmas but it was really cold so I wouldn’t have even been able to play outside much to use it. But it’s almost summer now so it would be nice and…”
She continued rambling on and on while Leon smiled happily. He held her hand and walked her over to where the scooters and bikes were.
Though he was a little concerned. What if she fell one day and scraped her knee? Or what if she hit her ankle with the scooter? Worst pain ever. Either way, he’d have to buy her a helmet and some knee pads.
Being a dad was kinda stressful.
iii.
Leon would try to be there for major milestones as much as possible. Yeah, sometimes he couldn’t be there because of the spontaneity of his demanding job, but he made sure to make everything worthwhile when he was present.
Whenever her birthday came up, he’d let Sherry babysit her for a few hours so she wouldn’t be at the house while you and him were decorating the place.
“Our little girl is growing up so fast. She’s already wanting to sit in the passenger seat, can you believe that?”
“You big ol’ softie.” You laughed a bit at his sulking, but you felt the same way, going over to hug him and comfort him. He held your hips, nuzzling against the crook of you neck. He loved you so much, he’d know nothing about happiness without you.
“I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would say when I was younger.”
“And what���s that?”
“That when you’re a parent, your children don’t really get older in your eyes. Yeah she’s about to turn ten but…she’s still our baby girl. I feel like she’s still three.”
HEADCANONS
𐙚 Leon would definitely be the type to look up some tutorials on YouTube so he could learn how to do his daughter’s hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, wavy, or really curly. He’ll get all the products and get as much practice as possible
𐙚 For bedtime stories he’d just make up child friendly versions of his missions. B.O.W’s would become dragons, he’d be some sort of knight, and the setting would be a magical forest instead of some isolated and creepy location. And of course there’d be a happily ever after. In a way, this also helps him cope with his experiences
𐙚 Even in a modern world where cards are used more than cash (much to his dismay), he carries around lots of quarters just in case his daughter wants to get something out of a sticker or candy vending machine
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galene-gothic · 3 months
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𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back with another Barbie princess and the pauper themed reading !! I hope this reading found you in good health and that you like it, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
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˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES (summer sale and offers)
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︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
You’ve experienced an ending (possibly even multiple ones) that were very heavy. It was the kind of ending (or a string of them) that came with a lot of pain and hurt but was inevitable, something that could simply not be saved. For many of you a lot of backstabbing and betrayal took place, possibly people bitching too. It could have very well been a whole group of people disliking you or turning against you. I’m strongly getting that you’ve often experienced people not liking you for any reason at all. For many of you, all of this took place at the same time (betrayal, people disliking you for no reason, etc.) You’ve lost a lot or at least feel a strong sense of loss (or have had to feel that way at some point). You have many deep wounds and right now, life seems to be more peaceful for you. However, you’re worn out, tired and disappointed. I need to give you a virtual pat on the back for the way you seem to be handling the situation though. You let things end even though you had to reach the lowest possible point mentally. You allowed yourself time and space to heal and recover. You have always been the type to try your best so you were just like “nothing more can be done now, I tried my best”. Right now, you’re really focused on yourself and your own internal values. Your energy is still not the most harmonious but the way you’re dealing with things seems to make it all harmonious again. You have released many fears and are still doing so. ‘I look to you’ by Whitney Houston is coming through for some reason. You’ve reached a point where you have a harder time trusting people and doubt loyalty but it doesn’t seem to be negative, obviously there are days when the voices do get to you but you’re able to tame them. It’s just that going forward, you want to choose and do what’s best for you. You’re still struggling emotionally but it’s only so that you can do even better going forward and yes, you have dealt with this situation really well. You should be proud of yourself because some of us wouldn’t have been able to think straight if we were in your place. You seem to know that whatever you lost wasn’t that great to begin with and every loss of yours has only led to more wins but one thing that I need to make you aware of is that everyone who lost you has received the biggest L, even if at that time, they were having the time of their lives, you’ve clearly won. You’re free to begin again. What has passed has passed. You’re free to, in fact, you have every right to believe that being in your life and someone having you in their life is a privilege. You’re free to believe that trust needs to be earned. You’re free to believe that you’ve had a string of bad connections and that their words, and actions hurt you so you have every right to feel bad and not want anything to with them. You’re free to believe that you don’t have to fully forgive someone to move on. You’re free to stand up for yourself and not feel bad for doing so. Even if you made a mistake, if someone is going overboard with punishing you by treating you shitty and disrespecting you, you have every right to stand up for yourself as long as you’re still aware of what you did wrong and are holding yourself accountable instead of acting as though you’ve never hurt a fly. You’ve walked away and surrendered which is the best that you could have done, I’m proud of you. You’re free to not want to communicate maturely with those who refused to communicate maturely with you in the past. You’ve always had a personality where you don’t mind compromising for those you love and because it comes so naturally to you, you don’t even bother to voice it out.
However, just because you don’t talk the talk, instead you just walk the walk, people act as though your sacrifices were not big. You’re allowed to have resentments against people as long as you don’t burden yourself. You’re free to find peace in the fact that you’re a great and loving person who has never minded giving up their ego for a greater good, that you’ve always looked at yourself and your loved ones as a team and that’s not a bad quality, you just didn’t know better and had people who weren’t the same as you, around yourself and that’s okay. You’re free to believe and know that you were not being difficult or trying to pick fights, you were trying to fix things because you really cared and wanted to give, and do your best. You’re free to forgive yourself for not voicing out your needs sooner. You’re free to not want to forgive some people, you’re free to deny that you weren’t even involved with certain people if that’s what brings you peace. Remember that the past doesn’t even exist, no one can narrate and decide your story except you, and the truth is, people cannot exist in your reality unless you let them ;). You’re free to not have empathy for those who didn’t have empathy for you. You’re free to be rude and standoffish with those who deserve it. You’re free to believe that it’s okay for people to leave such a bitter taste in your mouth that you wouldn’t want to help them even if they were living out their last few days with a beating heart. You’re allowed to believe that you’re not always the bad person, no matter how much you’ve been villainised, you’ve always tried to watch your actions and when you did make mistakes, you always tried to make up for them, and usually, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’ve often had people hate you because they’re envious of and feel inferior to you in some way but then they try to make it seem as though it’s your mistakes and actions that they hate you for. You’ve had people trying to isolate you, you’ve had people telling mutuals not to talk to you, you’ve had people trying to turn people against you just for the thrill of putting you down because it’s fun to try to bring down someone who they feel inferior to, it makes them feel superior, watching you question yourself but what they don’t seem to know is that you question yourself to better yourself because you don’t view mistakes as unforgivable sins, you want to take accountability, make amends, do whatever you can to repair the damage that you may have done and do better in the future instead of drowning in self guilt like they want you to 😭. Even if you did temporarily fall into self guilt, you managed to come right out and you always will. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person, you’re free to have faith in your own greatness and embrace your mistakes in a way where you put it all behind yourself, understand that however others have treated you has been wrong as well. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person no matter how many unethical things you may have done, no matter how much others have tried to villainise you. You’re allowed to be cold to those who used your mistakes to try to get you to break. If I was you, I would avoid doing anything that I could possibly regret doing in the future. You’re free to understand that many of your past actions have been shitty but those who jumped to try and knock you down to a peg were not saints either. If they did have a problem with what you did, they would discuss your actions, not your character, they just had a problem with you, and they would sure as hell not gang up against and isolate you. You are allowed to leave your past behind (including any of the actions that you’re not proud of) and do better in the future. Just remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to believe. When you find the place where your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to be seen. Many of you are interested in lifestyles that bring about a lot of eyes on you (possibly being a public figure). I don’t even think that you need to be known on a wide scale, it’s about the expression and success for you. You want to be able to make people happy and help them remain optimistic during hard times. You’re also supposed to be very generous. I just heard that the destiny that’s written in your heart is to belong to everyone, not in a negative way but in a way where everyone has a piece of the good deeds you’ve done inside their hearts and so you belong to them in some capacity. You’re supposed to have a lot of personal integrity and just be an abundant person overall. Even if you are not a public figure or an aspiring one, you’re supposed to be the light in many people’s lives. Due to how you’re going to belong to everyone, you’re also going to have to prioritise your alone time. To you, the time that you spend by yourself is going to be very precious. There are going to be people who are going to want to come into your life in order to dim your light and you’re going to have to find peace in life again and again. YES, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACTIVELY TRY TO ADD LACK OF PEACE INTO YOUR LIFE 😍. You’re meant to grow to be someone who’s not really that problematic. Which is why, you may have to step out of character a lot as a teen and early adult, you’ll have to learn how to stay firm in wanting to protect your peace and keep your character strong. Your destiny is to remain firm in your karma and have a strong sense of integrity. You’re supposed to learn how to protect your energy because you will have a lifestyle where you sort of belong to everyone but that’s not realistic, there are only certain people who deserve you in their lives, so you’ll have to learn how to balance it all. Karma is really big in your spread. You’re someone who’s experienced karma, often immediately. You’re supposed to learn many life lessons and lead a life of integrity. Your destiny if you manage to harness it, is to attain status and power but you’ll consistently have to work on balancing different aspects of your life (because you’re going to have it all). I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
Right away, you could be coming from pile 1. If not, much like the previous pile, you’ve undergone an ending too. Yes, this is in fact the ending of whatever situation or situations that took place but that’s the good news, that’s what you’re free to begin from again. When you’re at the lowest, the only place to go to is upwards ;). Who had potato and egg curry/likes it? Maybe, someone here is going to cook it or the dish holds some significance to you? It just randomly came through, doesn’t have to resonate for everyone. The ending doesn’t seem to be singular honestly, I feel like there was a whole cycle of multiple endings that took place but with many delays. If you ever find yourself feeling guilty about not getting over it or feel as though it’s your fault because you delayed these cycles, please be kinder to yourself. When things end, you’re left empty but what happens when a container is left empty? It gives room for new stuff to fill up that space. It’s important for you to not dwell on this ending - the guilt of not ending it sooner, wishing it had never ended, the emptiness you feel, etc. You’re free to begin from everything you’ve ever known because there is so much more in the future, in fact, even in the present itself for you to know. If you’re refusing to end a cycle, you’re only making it harder on yourself, I hope that you’ll be able to start again, no matter how much time it may take. Some of you feel guilty towards yourself because you know that you’re over it, you’re just not letting yourself let go completely. It’s become a habit to think about it, feel certain emotions when you reminisce so it feels foreign for you to move on and feel peace. Even if you’re still emotionally attached to the past, make the conscious effort to move forward. Please remember “no closure is a closure”. No matter how stagnant you feel or have felt, no matter how long you’ve felt it for, no matter how familiar the feeling is to you, you’re free to get out of this energy. Even if you feel as though you were unable to make the most out of your potential so far, even if you feel as though you haven’t achieved much, no matter how disappointed you’ve felt in yourself, don’t burden yourself with such feelings. You’re free to move on and achieve a lot going forward. “Though you may not know where your gifts may lead and it may not show in the start, when you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart.” Why are you so concerned about everyone? Why do you try to make things right with your actions even if you aren’t interested in maintaining certain connections? It’s because you’ve achieved a lot when it comes to character. If you feel misunderstood even though you’ve done a lot for others without even talking about it because that’s just you, if you felt betrayed, it’s them, not you. Fight against their opinions, they just dislike how you stand for the things that wish they stood for, they also dislike how you are the way they wish to be in some capacity.
Continue soaring forward with courage, resilience and conviction. You’re allowed to want what you want without always having to adjust to other people’s needs, desires, personalities, lifestyles and actions. Even if you may feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in the past, know that you were living by your truth of loving and keeping your actions in check, you’re always free to begin again and live more truthfully to yourself. In fact, now you know a lot more than you did back then, isn’t that in itself a blessing? Never let anyone influence you and your approach to interpersonal connections. You’re likely a more long term kinda person due to how much you pour into everything and everyone. You’re free to believe that you’re a great person even if you aren’t breaking your leg to please others. At this point, you likely know well enough about that because you seem to have a pretty strong sense of self or are developing it (and have been making good progress with it). You’re free to stand up for yourself and your beliefs. It’s time to be your most honest and authentic self now. You’ve likely started feeling called to it already. No matter how much pressure is placed upon you or how much you’re criticised or blamed, you’re allowed to believe in yourself. You’re allowed to have boundaries and to be fairly protective of yourself. You’re allowed to want to be pursued and want to be courted romantically. You’re allowed to desire to be wooed off your feet xD. You’re allowed to follow whatever your heart’s calling is. You’re allowed to move forward acting more graceful and strong in character and even physically if you’d like. You’re allowed to move your attention onto better things if whatever you’re focused on is affecting you negatively. You’re allowed to repeat mistakes as long as you manage to learn from them in the end. “I think all of us wanna feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realise how much we were leaving behind.” It’s okay to make sacrifices, it’s okay to make wrong decisions, it’s okay to learn, that’s how life is. You’re free to desire and believe in a true and deep love connection that you know exists because you’re full of the love that you wish to receive. You’re free to desire a deep connection full of mutual admiration, respect and love. You’re free to want to share your life with someone, just make sure that you’re not going into it with desperation. Your standards are not too high as long as you know that you’re asking for what you can give out. You’re free to want to be around wise people. You’re free to want to have a romantic connection with someone controlled, wise, ethical and respectable. You don’t have to feel bad about taking certain things seriously even if those around you don’t. Like supposing sex is a big thing for you, in this generation that’s kind of rare but it’s okay, do right by yourself. You’re free to have an impartial judgment in the beginning for your own good. You’re free to vet out and choose who deserves to be in your life and who doesn’t. It’s okay to want to strengthen your own character and reputation. You’re free to craft yourself and your life however you want, it’s your life to live.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to leave the past behind. You’re the pile that will either deal with extreme loneliness or isolation of some sort that will only lead to you changing and growing emotionally. If you feel like most things have not worked out for you, please just know that whatever has not worked out is exactly why thing’s are working out for you, you’re going to see it while you’re living your destiny. Somehow, no matter what you go through, no matter how many times you’re hurt, betrayed, etc. you are meant to only continue to become more loving. The more you hurt, the more you learn how to love (yourself and others) is the energy that I’m getting. It’s important for you to be in touch with the present rather than staying stuck on anything from the past, don’t even hold onto the regrets, that’s how you’re blocking your own destiny. You might be the pile that got shamed for being emotional at some point and being too nonchalant at another, you’re going to get closer to yourself which will ultimately lead you to being more in tune with your own emotional nature. The more you’ll grow, the more you’ll embrace and learn just how much of a blessing it is to choose to be ever loving in a bitter world that wants you to be bitter as well. The way you are, your sensitive nature, the way you feel, the way you love, the amount of devotion and loyalty you give out has led you to being hurt, disappointed and regretful several times. There have been times when people have terribly embarrassed because you tried to see the best in them. The clown emoji is coming through, gosh 🤡😭. However, the destiny that’s written in your heart is strongly intertwined with loving and loyalty, you value genuine connections and are extremely compassionate, as you grow older, you’ll learn how to not make everyone’s problems your own. You’re meant to learn healthy boundaries as you grow older, you’ll learn how to extend your love and compassion towards yourself, that’s how you’ll unlock a major part of your destiny. You’re supposed to come in terms with the fact that maybe you weren’t the problem after all. You seem to have taken “the world is your family” too literally, you take on everyone’s problems and sorrows, and try to love and help everyone. Especially when younger, that was what you were like.
As you grow older and finally realise that maybe you weren’t the problem after all, you’ll start seizing opportunities as you let go of regret. It’s going to be a bittersweet but beautiful time. No matter what you may go through, you’ll only gain more self awareness due to it. You’ll start focusing on the more positive aspects of life and yourself. You’ll eventually start having gratitude and find your zest for life again. You’ll learn that you’re not everyone’s mother or caregiver and that what you bring to the table, and who you are is deeply valuable. You’re destined to learn just a little selfishness, not in a sense of only caring about yourself but in a sense of putting yourself first. I’m not sure why but your sex drive keeps on coming through. You either masturbate quite a bit or well, just have a high libido xD. You might have started masturbating much younger than most as well. Doesn’t have to resonate but that’s what came through. I wouldn’t be surprised if this pile has a mother wound or just female figures being unsupportive and problematic towards you. It’s definitely not going to be everyone but you may find yourself having a bad experience with many female figures while growing up. It could be something as simple as you think that you’re good with a certain girl or woman just to find out that they dislike you. You’re meant to have it all, abundance in the truest senses. That’s the destiny that’s written in your heart. You may be the pile that’s not afraid to dream and not just dream but also try your best to execute it. If you have to give up on your dreams for whatever reason, you may feel terribly wrong from within. The destiny that’s written in your heart is a lot of domestic bliss as well. You’re meant to have people who accept and understand your differences in your life. You’re meant to be emotionally content. The reason why you have a hard time with short term, casual stuff is because you’re meant to experience long term deep attachments. The reason you’re so loyal, feel so deeply and know how to be dedicated is because you’re supposed to find worthy enough people to form such lovely and long term connections with. You’re passionate, don’t even try to suppress that true nature of yours by trying to explore some half hearted stuff. You’re well rounded so you’re meant to experience a well rounded life - a blissful home life, a great career, a strong personality and being proud of yourself, you’re meant to have it all. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
This could be the pile that may have lost their way temporarily or were unable to focus on things that mattered at some point (education, money, career, etc.) You’re free to start again when it comes to education and your goals (educational, career, character, skills, so on and so forth). It’s time for you to believe in your own maturity and sense of independence. You’re free to begin again no matter how many times you may have quit or lost your path. You’re a very responsible person who is focused on building something for yourself right now. You’re free to take on this identity wholly and start/continue showing up consistently for yourself. Maybe you used to be like this as a child, you had all your priorities in place but as you grew up, you started burning out or something just caused you to stray off your path. It’s okay, as long as you get back on track. You’ve always been a very helping and trustworthy person with a strong will. You used to be really reliable, responsible and ambitious even as a kid. Even if you feel like you’ve disappointed yourself, it’s never too late to get back to yourself and your goals. Believe in and stay firm in your own karma (actions/deeds). A routine would really help you. You’re free to start trying to make the most out of your potential. Maybe, you were pushed into a period of solitude causing you to realise that you need to get back on track? It doesn’t have to be for everyone, it’s only for a select few of you. You might have ended up overindulging at some point when younger which led you to straying from your path. It could be an overindulgence of anything - liquor, heartbreak, friends, freedom, etc. You may have wasted that time but the fact that you know what it feels like to enter such an energy means that you’ll avoid it going forward. It’s good that you’ve managed to live such different lifestyles and take on such different identities, just to get back to being yourself and realising that you always knew who you were, and that life is a lot about having the courage to live as who you truly are. If you don’t have a social life or have too much of it (envy, rivalry, lack of approval but also people around you) causing you to either think too much or not have enough space to think, just remember that you’re free to begin again. If you don’t have much of a social life currently, you’ve dealt with envy, rivalry, lack of approval, disappointments, end of friendships, etc. before.
Some of you may be going through it right now, if yes, you’re free to begin again, trust me, it’s going to get better ;). You’re free to believe that your next relationships (platonic and romantic) are going to be great ones. You’re free to believe that change is coming in and it’s going to be big, and in the best way possible. Patience is important here though. Don’t settle and don’t give into desperation or urges of any sort. You’re free to begin again when it comes to self improvement. You’re free to put the past behind you and patiently make the most out of the present while looking forward to a bright future. You’re free to explore and expand beyond what you thought your interests and aesthetics were limited to. You’re free to claim fulfilment. You’ve overcome so much, give yourself a little pat on the shoulder, will you? You’re allowed to go with the flow of things while consistently working on whatever you want. Consistency and patience are guaranteed to reward you as long as you use your brain and abilities to the fullest. Plan but don’t stay stuck on the planning phase. You’re doing so well, please be proud of yourself as well. While others may talk about how much they’ve done, how they are, like they may really boast it, you don’t boast because that’s just innately in you and why would you boast about something that’s just natural to you? BUT THEY’RE REALLY BIG TRAITS AND THINGS IN REAL LIFE! You’re free to let go of extremism in order to find peace. You’re free to make peace with situations even if they were one sided. You’re free to reprioritise and have faith in your priorities even if your priorities were not in the right places for a while. You’re free to move on from the life that was not flowing correctly. You’re free to heal completely even if no one witnessed it and you’re free to feel proud of yourself even if there was no one to witness how much you’ve grown. All work, no play will make you a dull one, please try to strike a good balance between studies/work and life. You’re free to try to manage life better. Your past does not exist, it does not matter. Believe in yourself and your dreams, your hopes and wishes will come true as long as you’re willing to work for them. You’re free to move forward with more confidence and passion, grabbing opportunities and communicating well. You’re likely already a great communicator, if not through speech, it may be through writing but believe in yourself, it’s better to go after the life you want rather than convincing yourself that you’re happy with an average life. Remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to begin, when you find the place that your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is quite interesting. You’ve always desired to be looked up to. There’s something traditional and old school that you want, the old school romance, the old school love, the old school family, whatever it may be. It’s because it’s in your destiny. You could be someone who doesn’t enjoy having jokes made about them or didn’t like them when younger. You do not appreciate being the butt of any joke due to how much you value mutual respect. It’s in your destiny to love and adore, and to be loved and adored. You’re likely the marriage type. You want an equal and all encompassing love in which your partner treats you like their own and you treat them like your own. You desire to operate with your partner as a team, a family, united and with each other instead of egoistic and against each other. It’s because you’re destined for that. You’re meant to have a reluctance to explore anything that’s not deep and intense (romantically). You’re meant to have moments when you feel unsuccessful, like you’ve not achieved much, like you’ve not been able to live up to your potential so that you can find it in you to strive towards it. At some point, you’re going to be like “I’ve always known who I am, who I want to be. I’ve always known what was right and yet I strayed off.” That was meant to happen so that you can be more confident in who you are. Due to your deep emotions and the way you feel responsible for everyone and everything, and you desire to have an ethical and good character, you tend to be confused a lot because people try to make you think that you’re doing something wrong? That’s the entire reason why you strayed off your path in the first place. You’re going to be pressured into making decisions without knowing what it is that you truly want. You’re going to find yourself being very emotionally overwhelmed at some point because you also have a tendency to feel things deeply. You won’t know what it is that you truly want. There will be a point where you’ll wonder if you even have faith in yourself at all. You might get severely betrayed at some point when younger, likely by multiple people but might have mixed feelings regarding them because the situations will just be so cloudy. Also, you’re a genuinely really good person so your desire for connection will lead you to treat people as if they are in the same team as you even if they aren’t because you will not be aware of it, you’ll have their best interests at heart but when all of this rose tinted glasses, confusion, fog or whatever you want to call it fades away, you’ll feel as though you lived in an illusion for a quite a while. You’re someone who has a lot of enemies due to your naturally great character. In this world, many people enjoy tearing each other down, you’ll have to learn how to strategically move through life. You’re able to be very strategic, it’s just that you have ethics and morals, and care about people so you try not to hurt them. You’re going to have to learn how to be yourself and follow your path unapologetically no matter who it hurts.
Many of your friends tend to envy you and want similar things that you want, possibly even love interests, don’t feel guilty about doing and choosing what’s best for you. Most of these people desire to be better than you because they do dislike you to some capacity, one more reason to not feel bad. You’re meant to be courageous enough to go for what you want, even if it might cause you to end up in scandals or ostracised because at the end, you manage to gain so much from it, in every way. “You need to be cold to be queen, keep your eyes on the price, Jenny Humphrey. You cannot make people love you but you can make them fear you.” You have had friends who turned out to be envious of you at some point. In fact, you often attract people like this but it does help you grow. You are going to learn how to be selfish with these people. With those who do deserve your love and view you as a team, you’re going to treat them as if they were you, you’re going to give them the best and will try your best to be there for them. Those who see and understand you are going to have your back at all times. You’re going to change and grow a lot through all the envy and one sided rivalry driven conflicts but that will only get you to be more morally driven. You’re going to become more empathetic, trustworthy and a great adviser to those who deserve it, and a selfish, cold person to those who don’t. That’s kind of your destiny because when you’re going to be all kind and giving, having the best interest of everyone at heart, viewing them as a team, they’re going to undervalue you and take you for granted. They’re going to abuse your generosity and giving nature, they’ll also be mean to you, as if nothing you give is enough for them, even though you’re probably the best that they will find but you’ll likely learn the lesson of putting yourself quite young (by your early twenties) because you’ll have already experienced a lot by then. You’re probably meant to be very charitable though. Also, the deep connections that you’ll have (both romantic and platonic) and I mean the healthy, non confusing and lasting ones, they’ll be sacred to you. Those people will understand you on a whole different level and will treat you with such care, it’s touching. You truly do deserve this kind of love. I’m so happy for you. When someone is like you, many will dislike you for your greatness while others will want to find both - more of your greatnesses and your weaknesses in order to love you, in order to have you in their life, in order to be in your life because they’ll see you as someone to treasure, because they’ll grow to love you more and more, the more they get to know you. This is sweet, isn’t it? You’re going to start craving strong and mutual love quite young and you’ll start having a mature approach to relationships. It’s likely because you spent quite some time in illusions while what you were giving out was very real so you’ll crave that same realness because you’ll know that you deserve it. Yes, you will receive it as long as you don’t bend into settling and staying stuck in illusions. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
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theemporium · 1 year
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Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3
kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤
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“Pads is dating her?!”
Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.
At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.
In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 
You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 
You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 
Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 
“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”
“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 
“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 
“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 
It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 
Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—
All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 
“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 
“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 
And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 
“Moony, are you seeing this?” 
“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 
“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 
What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 
“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 
“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 
“Such crass language,” you hummed. 
Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 
You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 
His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 
“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 
“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”
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foreingersgod · 4 months
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I LOVE THE FICS LATELY AND ALL THE TIME !!
one of them being the cc being obsessed with her gf , now i wanna see a kate martin being obsessed with her gf !!!
Always take rests !!!!
Work Song . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
A/N: i’m not sure if anon wanted soft, tooth rotting obsession, but i yearn for sweetie pie kate so i hope it’s ok :’)
Boys workin' on empty
Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?
kate was exhausted to say the least. practices, games…everything was really weighing down on her. she had so much on her plate all the time and it often got to be too much for her to handle. there was a lot of stress on her recently, being drafted and being the new girl on the team. she bared the overwhelming feeling of having to impress everyone, prove that she could handle it. and deep down she knew she could. kate was strong and smart and resilient, but her biggest fear was letting people down. letting you down.
that’s why, during times like this, she turned to you. her biggest supporter, her number one fan, her everything. you had been with her since the beginning. you were there for every meltdown and all the late nights spent in tears when kate felt like a failure. you were there for every loss and every win, there to clean up her nasty bruises and cuts. and now you were here to guide her through this huge change in her life. she wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times you had truly saved her in the midst of all this. kate struggled with change, hated how she felt like she needed to start over with a whole new team and a whole new life. but you were there to remind her that nothing was going to change, you would still be with her every step of the way. all she needed was you, the most important thing in her life.
you were the reason she got up in the morning. you were the reason she kept pushing even when she felt like giving up. because she knew that at the end of the day, you’d be there with her, arms holding her tight to ground her. that you’d never leave her and, for that, she wanted to make you proud.
I just think about my baby
I'm so full of love, I could barely eat
she was gone for the week, in another state for an away game. but a week was 7 days too long for kate, she couldn’t stand being away from you. she remembers the night before she left, how she was packing her things unwillingly as you made sure she had everything in her bag. you were trying so hard to get her excited, it was going to be one of her first games upon her pro-ball debut and you had assumed she’d be ecstatic. but instead she was sulking (typical kate), talking about how much she was going to miss you.
“i can’t believe you’re about to go live out your life long dream and you’re sitting here pouting” you teased. she knew you were right, and she really was quite excited, but the thought that you wouldn’t be there killed her.
normally you would attend like you always did, but you needed to take the week to focus on finishing up school. kate admired the way you prioritized your studies, but there were times like these in which she cursed your determination. all she wanted was to see you out there, amongst the crowd, cheering her on. a big ‘20’ plastered on your shirt to show your support and a gratifying smile on your face. you were her lucky charm, she would say. but now she here, far from home and missing her girl.
it was the night before the game and kate and the team had opted for a nice dinner out. something to hype everyone up and to boost morale…well that’s what she was told. but it did little to cheer her up and get her excited. she dreaded leaving her lonely hotel room, somewhat dim and weary without you there with her. it had been a long time since she stayed in a room without you. kate had to fight her own mind to attend dinner with the girls, just wanting to stay in and facetime you instead. nevertheless, she managed to get dressed up and make an appearance.
the entire night she was miserable, as expected. she wanted to join in on the conversations, talk about what her teammates were talking about. but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. she was still jet lagged, tired, nervous, and definitely missing you. she couldn’t even eat her food because she couldn’t focus on anything else but the image of you. memories of your relationship flooded her mind as she messed with the food on her plate, all she wanted was to go back home.
not able to stand it anymore, she made some excuse about being sick so she could leave. she packed up the leftovers to bring back to her hotel room and bid everyone a good night. her time would be much better spent texting or calling you than feeling sorry for herself at the table.
finally, she made it back to her room. without a second thought she was changing her clothes and crawling into bed, pulling out her phone and pulling up your contact. she had no hesitation in clicking on the ‘facetime’ button.
the phone rang several times, making her worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. but, on the 4th ring, the call went through and your face appeared on the screen. it was a gorgeous sight, she thought, seeing you there. you had taken off your makeup already, pulled your hair back, and tucked yourself into your shared bed. oh how she longed to be in that bed right now. you had instantly smiled when you saw kate’s face, making her heart ache for you.
“hi baby!” you chimed.
and that’s all she needed to hear. all of her worries, doubts, all of her anxiety was out the window now. she had just wanted an ounce of your attention all day, and at last, she could relax finally having it.
There's nothin' sweeter than my baby
I'd never want once from the cherry tree
“what did you say?” kate whispered, so shocked that she could hardly speak.
tonight was not a usual one. you had come home upset and stressed out, the past few days you’d been struggling with your mental health. it wasn’t often that you had difficult days, but when you did, kate was at your side and ready to help you in whatever way you needed. but tonight you felt inconsolable.
with kate becoming more popular in the media with her upcoming career, there had been a lot of press coverage. you actually hadn’t had an issue with it, you were thrilled for her to see that she was getting so much attention. but with the praise and positivity online also came the negative parts as well. you had seen a few articles and instagram posts concerning yours and kate’s relationship. seeing your name in bold headlines caught your attention. it was a bunch of nonsense, really, some random person online blabbering about nothing. they were clearly bothered by the fact that you and kate were very much in love, writing about how ‘kate could find someone much better’ or how she ‘should be with someone in her own league’. you tried to remind yourself of how foolish that was, kate loved you deeply and wouldn’t ever think of leaving you for someone else. but, with your history of self image issues and mental health, it was hard to believe it yourself.
“i said,” you were both sat on the couch, thighs barely touching. tears streamed down your face as you had your head turned away from kate. you had seen another one of those damned articles earlier and it seemed to be your breaking point, sending you into a fit of sorrow “i said i don’t know why you’re still with me”
the statement had caught her quite off guard. how could you possibly think such a thing? had kate done something? were you suddenly falling out of love? her heart was shattering as she sat there, desperately trying to figure out what had gotten you upset.
“baby,” her hand found its way to your cheek, gently guiding your head to turn back to her. your eyes were red and your lashes damp as you locked eyes with her “how could you say that? i love you more than anything in the world-i don’t understand”
“i just…i’ve been seeing all of those posts about us, kate” sobs racked your body and you hiccuped to try and catch your breathe “i see all the things they say about us and i can’t help but feel like you deserve more than me”
she had known about those posts for some time now, since she saw you inspecting one the other day. it broke her knowing you were indulging in all the ridiculous things people were saying about your relationship.
“hey hey hey” she wrapped an arm around you, forcing you to move closer to her “i don’t want anyone but you, got it? you have no idea how fucking in love with you i am”
a scoff fell from your lips briefly before you shook your head. you wanted to believe her, but your mind was so convinced otherwise “you’re just saying that”
“well allow me to enlighten you then?” she prodded, wiping the tears from under yours eyes. with reluctance, you nodded.
“i have never loved someone so much in my life” she began “i don’t even know where to start because there’s so much i love about you that it would take forever to say it all. i love the way you love me. how you take care of me all the time without me having to ask. how you make me breakfast in bed and how you brush my hair before we fall asleep. i love how you send me pictures of cute things you see in the store when you should really only be getting groceries. i love that you cry during movies even if it’s supposed to be happy because it shows how deeply you love things. and i love that you always think of people, even though that sometimes means you forget to take care of yourself. but i love that too, i love that i get to be the person that shows you how much love you deserve. that i get to sit here on nights like these and tell you how wonderful you are. because it’s true. honey, you are the best thing that has every happened to me and i’d be fucking crazy to let you go”
she let out a deep sigh, having lost her breath from her confession. if she had anymore air in her, she’d still be rambling on and on. the two of you stared at each other for a faint moment, her blue eyes gleaming back at you. your bottom lip quivered as another tear rolled down your cheek, although this time, it was a cry of joy.
“kate martin,” you muttered, almost speechless “i love you so so much”
she just chuckled softly and smiled at you. she guided you into a much needed hug, feeling your head tuck itself underneath her chin and your arms fall over her shoulders.
“i love you a thousand times more”
'Cause my baby's sweet as can be
She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me
it was dark outside already, signifying the late hours of the night. you weren’t sure what time it was, definitely late enough that you should be asleep. but instead you and kate were both still up.
the orangey glow from your bedside lamp illuminated your bodies, creating silhouettes on the bedroom wall. kate was laid against the bed, back against the headboard and head tilted back. you were hovering over her as you straddled her waist with legs on either side of her figure. your head dipped down to her exposed neck, lips connecting lazily to her supple skin. eager hands roamed her shoulders and down the sides of her torso. her hands did the same, anxious to touch you wherever she could.
this was another instance in which kate unfortunately had to be away from home for an extended period of time. like every other time, she thought about returning home to you every second that she was gone. she hated not being able to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were right by her side. you had also been yearning for her arrival and hated her absence just as much. so when she was on her way home, she knew she would be having her way with you that night, no matter how late it might be. it may have been well into the early hours of this morning at this point, but the need to be with each other was a far greater need than sleep.
when she stepped foot in that house, she was already dropping her bags at the door and ridding of her shoes. sock clad feet marched quietly up the stairs as she began imagining kissing you for the first time in over a week. she pushed the door to your room open ever so gently, taking in your inviting presence. you had been fighting sleep, she could tell. your eyes peeking through low eyelids, hair messy from laying against the pillows, your lips turned in a sloppy smile. what a sight for sore eyes.
she was tempted to tell you to go to sleep, to get some rest that she knew you needed. but you were already sitting up and crawling over to her side of the bed where she now stood. one of her oversized tshirts hung loosely on your body, your lacey panties emerging from the bottom. before she had the chance to do so much as greet you, your hands were gripping her shirt and tugging her into you. soft lips molded into hers as you frantically kissed her. she took it as a sign that you needed her just as much as she needed you. so she let herself indulge, slithering into bed with you. articles of clothing were discarded to floor. your shirt thrown over your shoulder, kate’s sweatpants and top banished to a pile next to the bed.
now you were here, idly making out, taking each other in as much as possible. one might think you hadn’t seen one another in years by the way you both were acting. your bare chests were pressed together, creating arousing friction. kate’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your ass where her fingernails left small indents. she was breathing heavily and groaning as you left dark purple marks along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, a reminder of your devotion. her hands pressed deeper into you, guiding your hips in a smooth rhythm of grinding against her lap. the room felt hot from the breathy moans and content sighs.
once you decided you were done marking the skin of kate’s chest, you made your way back to her lips. both of you were too tired to do anything other than this, just needing to be close to each other. not that you needed much else, having her lips on yours was enough to keep you satisfied. it was like your lips were meant for hers. they fit so perfectly together, moved against yours in the most delicious way.
kate let out another moan as she felt your lips grace hers. the sensation sent shivers through her veins. kissing you had to be the best feeling in the world to her. sometimes she felt sorry for the rest of the world, because what a sad life it would be to not know what it would be like to kiss you. and at the same time she felt so damn lucky that it was her, and only her, that got to know what this felt like.
When my time comes around
Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth
No grave can hold my body down…
“i hope you know that i’m absolutely head over heels for you,” she said next to you “you do know that, right?”
you hummed in response, nose scrunching as you looked at her. the amount of guests at your wedding must have been well into the one hundreds, but right here in this moment, it was just the two of you.
underneath a sky full stars was the makeshift dance floor of your wedding venue, marbled tiles beneath your feet. twinkling lights lit up the quaint garden of your backyard that you and kate both decided would be the perfect place to hold your reception. it was the middle of your first dance as a married couple and it was the most perfect moment of your life. your dress swayed behind you in the breeze, hair cascading around your face elegantly. kate looked even more beautiful than she normally did, if that was even possible. both of her hands rested on your waist and your arms looped around her neck as you danced across the floor slowly. your wedding playlist sounded in the distance and your families were watching you with teary eyes, but you and kate were only focused on each other.
“i do,” you replied “i hope you know that i’m also madly in love with you”
“i do” she had repeated like she did during her declaration of intent at the ceremony. you would never forget the look on her face when she’d said it for the first time “i’m never going to get tired of this”
“of what? our first dance?” you laughed, head falling back briefly “hate to break it to you, babe, but i think it’s gonna have to end at some point”
she laughed too, shaking her head. she pulled you in closer as her eyes wandered over the features of your face.
“no” she grinned “of looking at you”
your face was already turning a bright shade of pink, you could feel it as you smiled, but you didn’t mind one bit. you let your arms fall from around her neck as you heard the song of your dance come to an end.
your hands traveled up to take her face in your hands, something you have done often, a small action of your love. they directed her face to drop down to your level. you got onto the tips of your toes to meet her half way, kissing her passionately like your life depended on it. both of you smiled into the kiss, hearing everyone around you cheer as your dance concluded.
and, god, did it feel good to be loved like this.
…I'll crawl home to her
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
A/N: i feel like this started out so good, but then i kinda fucked it up at the end, but i hope you all like it !!
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lokisgoodgirl · 7 months
Text
Supply Closet [Avenger!Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just some filth in a supply closet tbh. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x female reader. Smut. Loki in a V-Neck, semi-exhibitionism, PV/Oral. Established relationship.
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You looked over Steve’s shoulder as the door edged open and Loki’s face slid into view.
Steve turned, sighing as he saw the god’s chest sidle through the crack, his fingers curling around the inside handle.
"My sincerest apologies," Loki hummed unapologetically, "-but I need to borrow our darling Agent here. It’s urgent." Steve raised an eyebrow. "How urgent?" he said. "Quite urgent, I assure you.” said Loki gravely.
Another sigh rattled Steve’s chest. He fluffed the papers on the desk before scooting them towards you and leaning back in the chair.
“You heard the man-’ he barked, casting a perishing look over his shoulder. He pulled out his phone as you stood with mumbled apologies, saying you’d be back as soon as you could.
“Doubt it.” Steve said while his keypad beeped.
A smirk began to creep across the feigned innocence of Loki’s expression as you pressed your fingertips against his chest, edging him out the door. “What are you doing?” you hissed as Loki’s smirk grew wider. The door clicked shut behind you. He threw his hands up in remission, mischievous smile in full force. Your fingers grasped around the collar of his v-neck, pulling him into a kiss that knocked the air from his lungs. Loki’s tongue jammed into your mouth, wet kisses waxing and waning against the clash of teeth as you landed him against the wall with a thud. “I missed you,” he gasped as his fingers worked up the base of your neck. “It’s been thirty minutes-” you said, giving the back of his hair a sharp yank. ‘You said twenty-five.’
Loki hissed. His cock was hard and proud against his chinos, stretching in a thick column up to his hipbone and rubbing against your thigh. The v-neck clung like a second skin to the outline of his abdomen; flexing against the muscle with every shallow breath.
“This is a very compromising situation you’ve put me in, Agent-” he growled wet in your ear. You shot a glance to either side of the hallway. “Come on.” you said, sliding a hand down the thick meat of his forearm and linking his hand in yours.
Beside the meeting room there was a humble supply closet. You and Loki bundled inside, closing the door as softly as you could. A nervous giggle erupted from your mouth, immediately silence by Loki’s hungry kiss. He backed you against the shelves at the far end of the closet, catching a mop before it fell without even looking in its direction.
The cleaning supplies gave a brief rattle of discontent. Your pulled at his t-shirt, the quietly expensive material that clung so perfectly to every godly inch of him sliding through your fingers. You whined into his open mouth.
The god replaced his lips with a silencing finger. He kicked your feet apart with practiced skill; the finger pulling at your bottom lip as he sank to his knees.
Loki looked up from smouldering eyes beneath a dark line of lashes, brows peaking while his hands slid up trembling thighs.
"I want you to listen to me very carefully…" he said solemnly. His eyes flashed in the way they only did when he was interrogating a suspect. An enemy. You’d told him how you almost came when you’d worked a mission together recently and seen it in action. And now, it was time to play.
Loki’s voice was commanding even through a whisper. "You’re going to cum in my mouth, darling..." he said. "I want to be absolutely dripping. Drowning. Tasting you for days. I want you to ride my tongue like its your route to freedom. Do you understand?" You nodded mutely, hand clasped over your mouth as his thighs spread wider on the tiled floor.
"And then – I’m going to fuck you." Loki murmured menacingly, dragging a manicured fingernail against the plump of your thigh- "And you’re going to take all of me, everything I have to give. And you’re going to be quiet. Do you understand?" You nodded again, a small squeak of anticipation erupting. "I’m sorry…" you whispered, unable to contain a smile of utter glee. Loki frowned disapprovingly, but the side of his mouth twitched.
He hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder. Without another word, the god reached up and guided your hands to the back of his head, pressing them into his scalp. On instinct, they tangled in his curls as his tongue met your swollen clit. You let out a shuddering sigh.
The flat of his tongue reached to the back of your slit, already sticky and desperate for him. His nose rested on your mound, disappearing and dragging back on your clit with every breathy gyration of his jaw. Loki’s hand slid to your knee, steadying it from the shakes that had begun. The other pressed up against the back of your thigh near his face, opening more of you to the leisurely lap of his tongue. One of your hands left his hair, grasping at the shelf to the side. Your head fell back, unable to take the sight of the god of mischief spread on his knees; eating your pussy with his eyes closed and his brow creased in pleasure. You thrust against his tongue, each thick stripe and suck of his expert movements making you see stars.
"Loki…" you mouthed as quietly as you could manage as your head fell forward.
He suckled at your clit in worship, filthy moans bubbling in his throat. He opened his eyes, meeting your own as he flattened his tongue and withdrew it...making sure you were watching as he slid it back between your legs. Your grip on his hair tightened.
Loki’s cock was even bigger now- fat and straining against the chinos stretched across his thighs. It twitched for freedom while your hips began to shake; your fingernails scraping against the shelf. With a silent scream, you came shamelessly on his lapping tongue. Loki didn’t stop; easing the flat gently against your pussy as he held you steady to his face.
"Loki," you panted again, patting him on the shoulder. Loki shook his head. In seconds, the crest of another orgasm ran over you like a train; heavy puffs filling the air as you tried not to create a red alert.
"Oh my god, oh my god…" you slurred under your breath, flopping into Loki’s rising body as he stood. He kept your leg elevated, hooking it around his hip. You heard the pop of his trouser buttons, felt the dip of his knees as he hoisted himself free.
"Be a good girl for me, Agent." Loki whispered with a wolfish smile. Hair fell around his face, strands sticking to the glisten coating his lips and chin. You kissed him in response, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth while your arms slid over his shoulders. Loki growled. He dragged his heavy cock between your folds, coating it. "Quiet." he ordered calmly, before bottoming out with a single thrust. It lifted you from the floor. Bottles rattled on the shelf behind, knocking into one another. Loki’s hand steadied one about to fall, his fingers gripping against the shelf when he was done. His hips lilted against your core with the tiniest of movements; stretching your cunt the way he always did. One of his pretty little staggered moans fluttered over your skin. And then, he began to thrust. Loki’s grip tightened on your bare calf, sinking into the soft flesh as he bottomed out again and again. Your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders, mounds meeting with every fuck between an obscene squelch. The scent of your cum on his mouth with every increasingly heavy breath made you clench, the t-shirt tangling beneath your grasping fingers at his back. You pulled the neckline down, sucking against his chest as his head fell back. Loki’s teeth were gritted to the ceiling, shadows carved into his cheekbones under the single fluorescent light that hung as witness. With every nailing buck of his hips, air was knocked from your lungs. But you kept your word – you were quiet; internally screaming his name as Loki of Asgard fucked you against the bleach and paper towels.
His head fell forward, slutty strands of hair sticking to a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. The effort of restraint was getting to him too, it seemed.
‘Going to cum,’ he mouthed with slanted, subby brows. You nodded, mouth hanging open. Loki’s lips crashed to yours, a force of air pummelling down your throat as he groaned his thundering climax deep into your mouth. His hips shook, the bottles behind you tumbling together. There was a thick crunch as the shelf he was gripping splintered in two. Loki broke from your kiss, moist forehead pressed to yours. He was panting heavily, Norse curses coming jumbled in breathy croaks.
"Fuck…" he choked. You slid your palms up his cheeks, pushing the hair back from his face.
"At least I was quiet," you whispered. Loki chuckled, sighing against your cheek. "This is what you do to me, woman-" he hummed, carefully returning your leg to the floor. There was a delicious throb in your pussy as his cock slid free.
You paused the work of his hand as he attempted to return it to his underwear; crouching down and sucking the remnants of arousal from the tip. He squeezed it from the base, making a fresh pearl appear. You licked it, placing a lingering kiss on the tip and looking up at him as you did it. "Fuck." the god repeated quietly. The hard K lingered.
You caught a glimpse of yourself in a dingy mirror in the corner. Cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, hair...un-salvageable. "We can’t keep doing this, Loki.’ you said decisively. ‘Steve’s not stupid."
“You asked me to come and save you from your scheduled drudgery with Rogers, so I did.” He stepped closer, drawing his nose down your temple, placing a soft kiss at the edge of your ear. “I always will,” he whispered, “you know that.” He wasn’t just talking about the meetings.
"I didn’t think you’d wear the tight v-neck, Loki…" you mumbled, trying frantically to fix your hair into some semblance of non-fucked-outness. "You know what that thing does to me." "Perhaps next time, you can assign an outfit in my possession that does not provoke this reaction," Loki purred, sliding his hands around your hips.
He kissed your neck, slow and deep; working his lips into the curve. "Personally I cannot think of one..." he whispered coyly in your ear.
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A/N. Just a little note to say that my posting schedule (such as it is) is dropping slightly (actually, it already has - but I like being structured, so here we are) I'm planning to post a oneshot every two weeks for the foreseeable, at least the next few months. This will most likely be a Wednesday, as per 🤗
So, Wednesday March 13th, Wednesday March 27th and so on.
I'm balls deep in a project which I am SO EXCITED ABOUT and it's taking up a lot of time (which is great, because it's fun!) but as you know, my Loki stories and little fantasies mean the world to me and I love being involved here, it makes me really happy, so that's also very important. This way, I can manage both♥️
I know there will be no complaints, I'm aware how lucky I am to have some of the kindest, sweetest readers around. I just wanted to solidify The Plan™️. I'm still here in between posting dates with my usual nonsense obv, no change there 🤣🕵️
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43qh · 7 months
Text
Summer Haze (M)
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quinn hughes x fem!reader
genre: angst, smut, fluff
word count: 3.7k
warnings: unprotected sex, pining
summary: there is nothing sweeter than coming back to quinn hughes.
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it’s summer again.
you can feel the slight burn on your knees as you sit on a folding chair, watching as the hughes’ brothers all get the boat ready for the lake. it was warm, but nothing you weren’t used to. becoming friends with all three brothers growing up was a hassle, you could say. they liked to bicker every now and then, especially the younger two. quinn was a bit reserved, but that never stopped you from chatting with him.
to quinn, you were like the sun. every time you made your way towards him, he felt his chest go tight and his hands turn sweaty. you had a gorgeous glow, something he admired more and more as the years went by. you turned into a beautiful woman that he adored. someone who handled herself with grace and yet knew how to have fun.
you just graduated college, and the weight on your shoulders felt lighter as you stared into the water. you had some time on your hands before you got into your new job, and you felt relaxed.
“i heard you graduated, gorgeous,” you hear a familiar voice, a cheeky smile on jack’s face as you turn your head to the right to look at him.
you smile back, “sure did. with honors.”
jack nods, “impressive.” jack pauses before continuing, “we all missed you, y’know.”
you nod softly, looking away for a second out of guilt. you had avoided coming to the lake for a few years so you could study and get everything done. you weren’t aware how much it had affected the hughes family. they were so used to having you around, and when you stopped coming, they worried for you and your mental health. you had to assure ellen than you were fine and just taking care of your studies. you promised her you’d be back in no time. that phone call was two years ago.
“i missed you guys too,” you smile at him, and jack pats your back.
“show up more.” he finishes before rushing back to his brothers that were already bickering. quinn looked frustrated as luke had a smile on his face. you knew luke did something just to piss him off. you watch as quinn rolls his eyes when jack comes back to the boat, and quinn hops off.
quinn can’t stop himself from making way to you. he wouldn’t admit it, but he probably missed you the most. he watched as you raised an eyebrow at him, a questionary look on your face as he approaches you.
“is quinn approaching me right now? is this real?” you smile at him, getting up from your seat to meet him halfway.
quinn huffs, “i always approach you.”
“yeah, when someone else needs me.” you point out. you weren’t wrong, and quinn knew it, “so, who needs me?”
“no one,” he licks his lips, before quickly re-answering, “well, me.”
“you?” you tilt your head in a question.
“yeah, how have you been?” quinn tries not to make the conversation awkward, but there wasn’t really anything quinn did that wasn’t awkward around you.
you smile, “i’ve been trapped in studies, but doing good. graduated with-”
“honors.” he finishes, making you pause your sentence, “i know.”
the fact he knew and still kept up with you, despite you practically cutting everyone off, made your heart flutter. you stood there with blank eyes, looking like a deer in headlights. you didn’t know how to react, how to respond. how did he know?
“i watched a viewing of your graduation.” he says, like he was answering the question in your head, “i was impressed, but not surprised. you love outdoing yourself.”
you nod, feeling like your feet are stuck to the ground. he watched you graduate from your college from a viewing, despite his crazy schedule. he made time for you. god, that hurt. and he didn’t text you that night. you almost wanted to cry because you knew he thought you didn’t want to hear from him anymore. the guilt traps you.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t-”
he shakes his head, cutting you off, “i wanted to tell you i was proud. maybe i should have, but you basically fell off the face of the earth, i wasn’t even sure you’d read the message.”
you breathe out a sigh, “i always read what you send.”
quinn smiles to himself, looking towards the water, “well, now i know.”
you nod, looking at him as the sun shines down on him. you see him squint his eyes as he watched the way the water splashes back and forth. quinn is gorgeous. you’re sure everyone knew. maybe not him, but everyone else.
“i’m back now, though.” you say, a light smile gracing your features.
quinn looks back at you, smiling back in a way that makes you start to sweat where you stand, “yeah, feels great.”
quinn was known for being genuine. someone who joked a little less than his brothers. someone who meant what he said, and never took it back. when a sentiment came from quinn, you didn’t have to doubt it came from the heart and nowhere else.
when quinn hears the call of his brothers, saying the boat is ready, he gives you one more smile before rushing off towards them. you stay planted in the grass, suddenly not wanting to ride the boat anymore.
you basked in quinn’s attentive nature, sighing to yourself. how could you have walked away so easily from this?
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quinn made it his mission to remember everything about you.
when you left a few years back, he had to remember. it was a taste he couldn’t get rid of, even if he wanted to. so, instead, he embraced it. he remembered how you liked your tea, what temperature was considered perfect for you inside the lakehouse, what soap you used so he could grab it at the grocery store for you. he had to remember these things so it didn’t seem like you were really gone.
when you found out your bathroom was stocked with your favorite necessaties, you knew who did it. you felt a pang in your heart as you noticed that even the towel hanging on the rack was your favorite color. quinn may be silent a lot, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen. in fact, it means he listens the most.
what would have happened to you and quinn if you hadn’t cut everyone off? would things be different?
you cross your arms over your chest, looking around the spare bedroom they always saved for you. it felt unreal to be back. you could smell hints of quinn’s cologne hinting the room, confirming that it was him who set the room together for you.
it hurt. god, it hurt like hell.
of course you missed the rest of the hughes family, but something about quinn’s attention sent shivers down your spine. he was so attentive, always specializing your needs. it was like he stocked all of his memories about you just for this moment when you came back.
you sit on the edge of the bed, pressing your hands into the soft comforter and leaning back. you start to wonder that, if you had stayed in touch, maybe things would have been different. maybe your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it did now. maybe you would have been develop something with quinn. something deeper than watching one another from afar.
you hear a knock, shocking you and making you rise to your feet to open the door. on the other side is a smiley quinn. his hair slightly wet, draping over his features.
“like the room?” he questions, hands in his pockets as he looks at you.
“i love it. you remembered everything i like.”
“how do you know it was me?” he fiddles around.
you smile at him, “you’re the only one who would remember.”
quinn nods his head, looking away from you as you see his nose start to turn a shade of pink. quinn didn’t mean to get embarrassed. he wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling you gave him in his stomach when you two talked.
“when did you become this talkative?” you lean against your doorframe, looking at him with playful eyes.
the hockey player shrugs, looking you back in the eyes again, “when i became captain, i guess. i needed to have more assertiveness. pick up my voice a bit more.”
you nod, “makes sense.”
it falls silent, and you both just stare at one another. quinn’s scruff on his face shapes it perfectly, making him a little more attractive than usual. quinn always had features you adored, but he looked a bit more buff now, a bit more grown. it almost made you sad that you missed out on so much. so, so damn much.
“i wish i never left,” you blurt. and his eyes focus in on you.
“me neither.” he states, licking his lips.
you look away in shame, “i thought i knew what was best for me.”
“you don’t need to explain yourself.” quinn takes his hands out his pockets, slowly reaching for your hands. when his hands touch yours, you feel a spark rush down your body. his hands are warm. not too cold, not too hot. they were perfect, a bit calloused, but perfect.
you stood with your teeth clenched, trying hard not to become emotional. you wanted to say something, but he said you didn’t need to explain yourself. for some reason, though, you felt like you did. it was like an ache in the back of your throat begging to be released.
“i know,” you whisper, “but i would for you.”
quinn’s hands tighten on yours, and you desperately want to kill the distance between the two of you. but you don’t, and neither does he. when quinn hears ellen calling his name, he pulls back just as quick as he pulled in.
you sigh, watching as he smiles and bids you a ‘see you later’. you have to close your door hurriedly behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. you could still feel the lingering tingle he left in your hands.
you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
would it feel better than this?
you’re sure it would.
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“he missed you most,” luke’s voice comes from beside you, making you look at him with a questionary look.
“uh- sorry?” you sit on the boat, luke making his way to sit next to you.
“quinn,” he says nonchalantly, “he had a hard time staying away when you stopped texting.”
there’s that ache again. that pain in your chest that makes you want to turn back time. if only you could. if only you could have been by his side.
you drop your head, looking down at your hands as you clutch the seltzer in your hands. the cold condensation in contrast to the hot summer made you swallow.
“i don’t mean to make you feel bad,” luke quickly corrects himself, making you tilt your head up a bit to see the raise in his eyebrows as he realizes what he said, “i just think you should make up for lost time. it really surprised all of us, but i think quinn never once stopped thinking about you. it was really obvious sometimes.”
you look at quinn from where he carefully drives the boat over the waters, making sure not to hit the waves too hard. he sits wearing his hat backwards, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.
“obvious?” you don’t look away from the man driving the boat.
“yeah,” luke follows your gaze, “he mentioned you a lot. asked if any of us talked to you or heard from you. he would even see something and send it in the groupchat saying how much you would have loved it.”
you take a sip of your drink, throat suddenly dry as you take in the information like a sponge. this felt so unfair. you weren’t supposed to feel so guilty for prioritizing your studies and graduating like you always wanted. but quinn made it almost impossible not to feel that way. and it wasn’t even his fault that you felt this way. that’s what troubled you most.
you had no place to put down this guilt.
you sighed, “i wish i stayed.”
luke shakes his head, “everyone does. don’t let that change what you do now, though.”
luke was right.
you had nowhere else to look other than forward. maybe it would take fighting tooth and nail to get quinn back the way you used to be, or maybe it would be easy. you didn’t know. but as you looked at the eldest hughes brother, watching him focus on the waters, you knew you had to at least try.
none of this would have been worth it, without trying.
when night falls and quinn is finished packing up the boat, you approach him. he meets you halfway, smiling with his teeth.
“have fun today?” he asks, his nose slightly sunburnt.
you stand for just a second before planting yourself in his arms. quinn is a bit shocked, letting out a huff of surprise before instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist. your arms stay linked around his neck, one hand reaching to play with his hair. you hear him hum at the action.
“i’m guessing yes?” his voice is low in your ear, and you shiver as you close your eyes, leaning into him deeper.
“i should have stayed.” you start, and he’s about to pull back but you tug on him to stay, “but i’m not going to let what i did stop me from catching up with you.”
quinn sighs, “there’s not much to catch up on.” he pauses, “we’ve always been connected. always felt it.”
his musk envelopes your nose, easing you into his embrace like it was made for you. maybe it was.
“me too.” you confess.
even while gone, it was always quinn that came to mind. you loved the rest of the hughes family, but quinn never stopped wrapping your mind the most.
the rest of the hug was quiet, no words spoken as the tight hold on one another becomes a close understanding to one another.
this was moving forward.
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you stand in front of the sliding doors, watching as rain falls almost violently. you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“admiring the rain?”
you hear a familiar voice, making you smile to yourself as you turn around and see quinn standing against the wall frame, hands in pockets. he looks good. sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, eyes drooping like he just woke up, hair messy, shirt clinging to his body. you swallow at the sight of him.
“you could say that.” you respond, and quinn raises an eyebrow. “where’s everyone else?”
quinn hums, “grocery shopping.”
“and you didn’t go?” you tilt your head, knowing he normally liked going so he could pick out what he liked.
he shakes his head, “no.”
you look at him with confused eyes, “why not?”
“knew you’d be here.” he confesses, like it’s almost something he’s not supposed to say, “wanted to stay with you.”
you watched as he shifted uncomfortably, leaning off the wall and standing awkwardly. you smile to yourself at the man in front of you, observing as his ears start to tip a color of red.
you walk towards him, and his breath hitches in his throat. he feels frozen as you approach him. quinn felt his brain stop working as you stopped right in front of him. your perfume engulfed him, hugged him like a blanket.
“you don’t have to kick everyone out to kiss me.”
your words linger in the air, your confident stare making him swallow and lick his lips.
“i- i didn’t kick-”
you roll your eyes, “i didn’t mean literally.”
quinn nods, the silence in the air becoming tense as he doesn’t move, no matter how badly his hands start twitch in his pockets. he wants to pull you flush against his body, kiss you like it matters. but the courage never strikes him.
you huff, taking matters into your own hands and clutching his face. your lips meet his, and he takes a minute before he’s responding back, hands slowly coming out of his pockets to delicately rest on your hips, kissing you softly and slowly.
it wasn’t rushed, just a kiss of silent confessions. you run your nails through his hair, earning yourself a soft groan that you swallow up. it’s heaven. nothing like you’ve felt before. it’s more than what you expected. you can feel his scruff scraping you slightly, and you sigh at the closeness. his hands become more and more greedy, starting to pull you close to him as the kiss becomes something more. something filled with need.
quinn swears he could die like this and be happy. the sound of the rain is buffed out by the sweet sighs you let out during the kiss. he appreciates the way you whine when he pulls back, biting your lower lip with careful teeth. you look up at him, breathing heavy. he swears you looked the most gorgeous than he’s ever seen. doe eyes, curious expression, attention all on him.
he can feel your hands still gripping onto his hair, like you were silently begging for something more. he huffs when he realizes just how close you are. chest to chest, breathing one another’s air, noses close to almost touch.
he wants you. he wants it all.
he’s quick to drag you to his room, making you squeak when he tugs your wrist to follow him. you let out a soft giggle, throwing your head back in some type of euphoria. when your back lands on his bed, you smell him instantly. his soap, his musk, his cologne. all of it. it only made you want him more.
“you’re so beautiful,” he finally spoke, “especially in my bed.”
you smile up at him, “won’t be the last time.”
quinn shakes his head as he makes work at both of your clothes, “hope not.”
it has felt long overdue for this moment. to have quinn all to yourself. to feel his skin on yours, to feel the way his heart beats for you, to feel the way his hands are on your sides and thighs as he spreads you apart for his hungry eyes.
“gorgeous,” he breathes, taking in your fully nude body, “so wet, too.”
you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, whining, “then you must know how much i need you?”
quinn smiles to himself, laughing under his breath, “yeah, definitely.”
quinn doesn’t think he can tease you any longer. the more he teases you, the more he’s teasing himself, really. it’s not long until he’s lining up to your entrance, making the both of you let out long strings of relief the second he enters you. he stretches you out, making you feel every throb and vein possible on his cock.
you clutch his shoulders, “fuck.”
quinn nods, “so tight.”
both of your breathing has become rapid, staggered and eager. quinn’s first thrust into you is slow, like he’s testing the waters. it feels so fucking good, like he was made for you.
“take my cock so well,” quinn says it like a prayer, “made just for me, only me.”
your walls flutter at his words, causing a hitch in his throat and a stutter in his thrusts. quinn can’t help picking up his pace, your pussy feeling too good. he felt almost drunk, nothing quite coherent coming to his brain. he can barely feel the way your nails claw at his shoulder and bicep as he picks up a brutal pace. it all feels too good. your moans echoing around his room, bouncing in his ears and sending him to cloud nine.
“want you to-” you gasp as he reaches that spot inside you that has you curling your toes, “fuck, cum inside me. want your cum inside me.”
quinn can feel sweat starting to develop on his forehead, and he groans at your confession. “gonna give it to you. want you to cum for me first, though.”
quinn makes a point by lowering a hand down to your clit, rubbing deep circles into you. you let out a soft yelp, surprise being taken over by pleasure too quickly. you can feel the way your pussy is starting to convulse around him, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to cum.
with one particular thrust and press of his thumb on his clit, you let out a string of curses mixed with his name as you cum. it doesn’t take much for quinn to follow right behind you, the fluttering of your pussy almost too much for him. you shiver at the feeling of his cum coating your walls, listening to the way his breathing slowly comes down from such a high.
quinn hugs you close to him, despite his exhaustion. he never wants this to end. never wants to be apart from you again. this is something he’s scared of losing. he pined too long for you to leave again.
you run your fingers through his hair, easing you both back to earth and reality. “i never stopped thinking about you.”
quinn has his head buried in your neck, “me neither.”
this wasn’t just a summer fling to either of you. this was something important.
“i’m never leaving again.” you kiss his temple, “especially not you.”
quinn relaxes, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. you can feel the relief escape his shoulders. he finally pulls out, quickly grabbing a towel from his bathroom to clean you up. he kisses your forehead, handing you a bottle of water he already had on his night stand from last night.
when he finishes taking care of you, he slips on a pair of boxers and hands you a pair yourself. you smile in gratitude. quinn swears he’s living in heaven. he swears this is what heaven looks like.
quinn gets in the bed next to you, watching as you slip on a shirt of his, too. “you’re pretty in my clothes.”
“you’d say that in anything i wore,” you lean into his embrace as he holds his arms out for you.
he just smiles, “maybe so.”
the sun starts shine through his window, the rain finally stopping and leaking in a special summer haze in the room.
your very own summer haze.
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sentientcave · 5 months
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Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.
Chapter Two - An Understanding
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Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.
~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above
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The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”
“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”
“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.
The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.
“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”
Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”
“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”
The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”
Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”
“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."
"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."
"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."
Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."
Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.
"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"
A loaded question. "Well. Not really."
"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."
"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."
John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."
"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.
He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."
"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"
He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."
"I'll find a new job. I always do."
"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."
You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."
John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"
A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"
"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”
If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.
“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”
“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.
The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”
“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”
“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.
“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.
Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."
“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.
“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”
“Isn’t she just?”
“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.
“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.
You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.
"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."
You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"
"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"
You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.
“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”
“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”
The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.
The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.
“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”
John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.
“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”
“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”
“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”
“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”
“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.
“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.
“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.
Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”
They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”
"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."
At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.
Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.
John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.
Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.
There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.
“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.
“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.
“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”
He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”
"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."
"And the student loans?"
"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"
"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.
You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"
"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"
You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.
"Can I think about it?" you ask.
"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"
You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.
Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.
“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.
“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”
“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”
“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”
“I’m not his people.”
John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”
A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.
"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”
There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.
You’re worried that he might be right.
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My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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