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internetgremlin-writes · 2 years

Text

Redemption

Prompt/Summary: Request from anon: can I please get a Carlos smut fic. I’d like him to be the complete dom in bed. Also for @brightsunflowersworld and @hnmaga-blog who both requested stuff on the same lines

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,300

Warnings: S M U T [as the ask suggests, Dom!Carlos, but it's still Carlos, so Gentleman vibes at all times]

forgive me father for i have SINNED

“Hey,”

Warm fingers wrapped around your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. Your stomach dropped and you cast a quick glance up to the sky in a silent plea that this would be quick, before turning around. You grasped the phone you were holding with both hands and hitched a gentle smile onto your face.

“Hi, Carlos,” he was stood too close, again, just enough that you had to crane your neck up to meet his gaze. “Congrats on today, by the way, it was a brilliant drive. You really deserve the win,” you meant it. Carlos had wanted a win for so long, and he’d worked so hard to get himself into a car and a team who could give it to him.

He positively radiated at your words, the beam that had barely left his face for the last hour growing wider still as he flashed you his teeth and then cast a shy look at the trophy hanging low in his hand as if he still couldn’t quite believe it was his.

“You’re coming to the team photo?” You tried not to bristle at his question. You didn’t want to be the one person annoyed at him today.

“Yes, Carlos, I am part of the team,” you sent him a tight-lipped smile and held the phone up. Any sense of normal conversation immediately vanished. He nodded awkwardly, mumbling an ‘of course’ and tilted his chin up at someone in the distance, moving past you to meet them.

The second he left you found yourself letting out a sigh of relief, turning the phone absentmindedly in your hands. You still had an hour to wait whilst he was on media duties to rally the team and collect as much evidence as you could before the photo. Like most interactions with Carlos, you put it to the back of your mind and tried your best to get on with your job. You knew a lot of people looked down on the jobs like social media admin, but it was still a role in the team. Besides, since the team had finally let you embrace TikTok and meme culture you knew you were responsible for a good hoard of new followers. Still, you found yourself not for the first time rubbed up the wrong way by Carlos’ throwaway comment.

You deliberately stood right on the edge of the group photo, even though your smile was genuine. The second it was over you were ducking out again. Luckily, Carlos was too busy surrounded by everyone wanting a piece of Silverstone’s newest winner for you to even see him. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was walking directly into the three other women working as part of the race weekend team at Ferrari.

“Y/N,” Jessica, Charles’ PR manager stopped you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Megan, who was technically your boss at Communications chimed in.

“I’m literally standing here, what could I possibly be thinking about?” you grumbled, not sure what you could possibly have done to warrant such stern looks.

“Team drinks, tonight,”

“No,”

“See, I told you!” Carrie, who was just eighteen and new to the team piped up. “Please, Y/N, we’ve not been out with you in ages,” you sighed and rolled your eyes.

“C’mon guys, we can do something just the three of us another time,”

“Don’t you think sometimes it would just be easier if you were normal to him?” Jessica, who you’d known the longest as you’d both started working with Ferrari in 2017, sent you a knowing look. You could feel your face heating up in response and it became a battle to keep your expression neutral.

“Absolutely not,”

“He’s just won a Grand Prix, Y/N, don’t you want to celebrate?” You had to fight the urge to tell Carrie to shut up about things she didn’t fully understand. You knew from the way Megan was flipping through her clipboard of notes you were about to receive a threat, which made you laugh at least.

“Alright, fine! But only because I can see Meg looking for a punishment for me and I am not filming Charles moaning in an ice bath again,” Carrie looked like she was about to hug you, the younger girl virtually bouncing on the spot as she let out a small squeal of joy. “Text me the address and time will you, Meg? I’m going to need a taxi,”

You recognised the address the second you picked up your phone from where you were sprawled out in the hotel bath, a concoction of salts added to the water in an attempt to either calm you or kill you - you weren’t fussed which. You’d been before, it was a fancy cocktail place on the embankment in London, right on the riverfront. It made up the top floor of an old industrial building, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked right out over one of the most iconic skylines of London. The drinks were obscenely expensive but worth every penny.

You hoisted yourself out of the bath, wrapped a towel around yourself and started to flick through the limited wardrobe you’d brought with you. Typically, you hadn’t packed for such an event. The last time you’d gone to a work do… well, you knew how it had ended and had vowed you’d never get drunk with colleagues again. Your eyes lingered over a short red dress you took with you everywhere. It fit you like a dream and was the perfect last-minute-plans dress. As you pulled it off the rack you froze.

You could almost smell the cheap beer of the dodgy dive bar in Texas you were in. Max had just achieved a career-best and over at Red Bull proper, Daniel had brought home a win. You’d been wearing that dress. It was your second season with Toro Rosso, but first on the travelling team and it had been the first time you’d been invited out to team celebrations. You remembered the way Carlos had been staring at you all night and how you’d had a crush on him for most of the season. You’d filmed that stupid mechanical bull video earlier in the day, and it had been the only thing on your mind since.

You also remembered peeling that dress off the floor at four o’clock in the morning on your way out.

Cringing, you put the red dress back without hesitation. The same way you’d left Toro Rosso.

No, tonight was the night for moving on. It was not for silly little dresses and making the same mistakes you’d made at twenty. You instead settled on a pair of fitted trousers, a flattering, silky wrap top and light makeup to match. You found a pair of sensible heels and nodded at yourself in the mirror for being such a mature and sensible woman in her mid-twenties. And rewarded yourself with a gin and tonic whilst you waited for the taxi.

The group chat Carrie had set up named “The Gworls in Red” for the female Ferrari workers lived on mute, but you scrolled through the recent messages as you sipped your drink and took some entertainment from Carrie’s apparent breakdown over what to wear. It seemed she’d sent a photo of everything she owned, and you were glad that at least Jess was a good enough sport to have responded and helped her out.

The second you arrived at the bar you made a beeline for Jessica, who was already nursing a Sex on the Beach and was in deep conversation with a couple of the boys from Charles’ pit crew. You appeared at her shoulder with a quick hello for everyone.

“Did you hear?” One of the guys, you had a feeling he was called Marco, asked you with a gleeful look. “It’s an open bar,”

“Really?” You couldn't keep the excitement out of your tone. You were a sucker for a quality cocktail. You immediately excused yourself and picked up a menu, deciding to start your adventures off strong with a Negroni. Very mature, you told yourself again as you were joined by Carrie with a Cosmopolitan that was the same shade as her dress.

To be fair, the party was pretty great. You were off duty, though you couldn’t help but capture a couple of key moments for a post later. The drinks were exquisite, and the company was much more fun than Red Bull. Classier, and much less chaotic despite the thickening Italian accents piercing through the room. As much as it was funny, not having to worry about the destruction caused between a drunk Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen removed a layer of stress for you. At one point you’d even found yourself dancing with your friends and smiling. And, most importantly, not thinking about avoiding him the entire time.

You’d been doing well, too, until Meg announced she needed a smoke break and you figured there’d be no harm in getting another drink and accompanying her. The air was pleasantly warm as Meg made idle chat with you. She puffed on her cigarette and you sipped your drink.

“Why do you avoid him like the plague, anyway?” She asked, tilting her head inside. You didn’t need to look to know the older woman was talking about Carlos. You took another drink.

“It’s awkward,” she shrugged and blew a smoke ring.

“English people make so much drama,” she grumbled something in Italian “It was a one-night stand. If I acted like you I’d not be able to go in that room,” she jabbed a thumb at the party thriving behind you. You couldn’t help but snort into your drink and Meg laughed along with you.

“If it was just a one-night stand it would be fine, I’m not a total prude,” you decided to blame the alcohol for your loose lips because you’d never admitted to anyone what had really happened when you’d slept with Carlos. Megan stubbed her cigarette out and immediately lit another, gesturing for you to keep talking.

“He asked me on a date after,” she narrowed her eyes at you, clearly not satisfied with your response. You sighed, taking a big gulp of your drink and savouring the bitter way it burnt your throat for a second before taking a steadying breath and continuing. “And I snuck out,”

Meg inhaled hard and burst into spluttering coughs. You had to pat her on the back and let her finish your drink before she settled into wheezy laughs, gripping your arm to stop you squirming away.

“You…” she had to stop to wipe her eyes, shaking her head as she continued. “You ditched a Formula One driver? Stupid girl,” you groaned audibly, ruing giving away the last of your drink as you twisted the empty glass in your hands uncomfortably.

“Why did you think you got an application from me mid-season? I had to leave,”

“Leave who?” Jess had joined you two on the balcony. “What have I missed? Carrie is puking, by the way,” Meg snorted, but had an affectionate smile.

“Golden boy asked Y/N on a date and she never answered him. That’s why they make everything so awkward,” you dropped your head into your hands, muttering an irritable ‘thanks’.

“What!? Why!?” Jess sounded as gleeful as Meg had at the news.

“Love the support guys,”

“No come on you must tell us,” Meg piped back up, offering Jess a cigarette from her packet, who shook her head politely, Meg just shrugged and tucked it back into her jacket. You really wanted another drink.

“Was he that bad?” Jess always had been blunt. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, but your face said everything.

“No. Fucking. Way,” her voice was low, almost impressed. “So much for the ‘Smooth Operator’, ha,”

“We were like twenty,” you tried to defend, but they weren’t interested. They wanted details.

“No, no I have to know. How?” Meg was pushing, and Jess had disappeared for less than a minute and returned with a round of Mojitos. There was no way you were going to get away without sharing more.

“It was just a bit… sappy?” You told your drink. The other two women were staring at you in silence and you sighed heavily. Detail it is, then. “Like he asked if I was alright constantly,”

“Okay but skills, c’mon Y/N, stop sparing details,” you groaned loudly, making Meg bark a laugh.

“You two are like fucking vultures,” you shook your head “Fine. He was average, happy? I never came. And he thanked me after,”

Jess was looking at you like you’d just told her she’d won the lottery.

“Poor baby Carlos. Never pegged him for the clueless type,”

“Okay, I’m done. And I’m cold,” you lied, leading the other two inside before they could push you any further. The group dissipated again once inside. You decided two successive tequila shots were required to immediately forget that conversation, Meg resumed the role of the responsible adult and collected a glass of water to take to Carrie and Jess disappeared into the midst of the mechanics, where she was happiest.

You amused yourself at the bar, chatting to a couple of other team members you didn’t usually see and having a bit of a dance to some terrible cheesy music. Your head was starting to spin and you were feeling a little stupid, which to you was a sign you needed water and fresh air before you went down the same road as Carrie. Having said that, Carrie had clearly revived herself as she was aggressively snogging one of the apprentice boys in the middle of the dance floor.

Water collected, you found yourself back out on the smoking balcony, enjoying the five minutes of quiet to try and capture some aesthetic photos of London at night as you let the cleaner, cooler air do its job.

“I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight,”

You’d recognise the Spanish accent anywhere. Immediately trying not to tense you picked up your glass and held your hand up in apology. “Hi, great party, sorry I’ll just-”

“No, it’s okay,” you nodded at his gesture for you to stay outside. You sipped your drink to stop yourself from sighing once again. “I don’t hate you, you know,”

“Never said you did,” you shot back, immediately defensive.

“You look like you want to run away every time I see you,” he was leaning casually on the balcony, quietly absorbing the view. He seemed calm, much calmer than you’d ever seen him before. He had a contented smile sitting on those full lips, his hair combed back neatly and shining as the warm outdoor lighting caught it. He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with a thin jumper pulled over the top. He didn’t look like someone who’d been going nuts on the podium celebrating his first ever F1 win a few hours ago.

“It’s just awkward,”

“Is it?” He turned his head to look at you, eyes holding yours with ease. After spending years avoiding ever looking at him, let alone in his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed by your body as you felt a shiver run down your spine. There was a reason you used to have a crush on him.

“Look I’m sorry-”

“No apologies, please,” you tilted your head to the side, not quite following. He scratched his neck with a slightly awkward laugh. “I needed to learn the lessons,” you pulled your lips in on themselves, pressing your mouth into an awkward grimace and nodding.

“Did you leave Red Bull because of me?”

You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

“Um- Jesus Carlos, straight for the jugular,” You huffed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess. I was young and I didn’t have an idea of how to talk to you after and it felt like the right thing to do,” he nodded slowly.

“And when I came to Ferrari? You still didn’t know what to say?”

“Hey,” you bristled “This isn’t just me. You never made any effort either,”

“Okay, fine,” he nodded, admitting his own fault.

You turned back to your drink, turning your nose up a little as the water had gone lukewarm from sitting under the small heater chugging away in the corner. You tipped it into the plant pot beside you and turned to walk back inside.

“Alright, Carlos, this was weird. Congratulations on your win though, I am really happy for you,”

“Wait,” he caught your arm, his fingers warm through the thin material of your top. His voice was almost desperate as you raised an eyebrow at him, “Please,”

“What else do you want from me?” He let go of you, running a hand through his hair. You pretending you weren’t watching the intricate way the strands fell back over his long fingers.

“Clean start,”

“What?”

“I want to start again. Forget everything, forget Red Bull and that terrible night and my terrible clothes. Please, let me clear the air, I beg you,”

“Okay,” you agreed. The problem was, you’d never disliked Carlos. Although that night had killed your crush on him, you did like the guy. He was kind and attentive to those close to him, he made an effort to say hello to everyone he saw, and he was always the one worrying after everyone else. He would look at someone like they were the only person in the room when he spoke to them. And he was funny, effortlessly so. He had every right to be an arrogant bastard, but he was one of the most down-to-earth people in the sport.

He stuck his hand out, a small grin on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carlos,” you shook his hand, rolling your eyes but there was a smile making its way onto your face.

“I’m Y/N, hi,”

“I would very much like to get you a drink,”

One more couldn’t hurt, right?

*****

“I was not that bad!” You collapsed into giggles at his indignant expression. Three more drinks and the balcony was still occupied by yourself and Carlos.

“You licked my leg at one point!” Carlos made a high-pitched noise that turned into a laugh, doing nothing to calm you down as he knocked into you.

“My God, why didn’t you say something to me?” He had his head in his hands, pretending he couldn’t look at you.

“Because you have these stupid great big eyes and it’s impossible to say mean things to you,” he immediately took that as an excuse to invade your personal space, crouching a little so he was looking up at you and batting his eyelashes like some kind of Disney cartoon with a little grin on his face that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Really?”

“Shut up,” you shoved his shoulder playfully.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, the noise of the party still babbling in the background. He was stood so close that your forearms were brushing against each other and it was making your insides warm pleasantly.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you hummed. “I forgot how much I liked you,”

Carlos shrugged. “Needed to grow up a bit,” you couldn’t help but agree.

He turned to you, a glint in his eye you hadn't seen before.

“If you want,” he started carefully, backing off to give you some space. “I can show you how much I’ve grown up,”

“He wins one race and suddenly he’s Mr Confident,” you rolled your eyes, playing hard to get. You couldn’t deny your interest was piqued.

“Hm, no, I’ve been confident for a while,” oh. Okay then. “Don’t you wanna congratulate your winner?” His fingers trailed almost lazily along your arm, watching the way goosebumps followed him. You felt like you were glued to the spot, only just managing to swallow around your tongue, which suddenly felt too big and dry in your mouth.

“This what you meant by clean slate?” Your attempt at a quip to break the tension was poor.

“It can be,” he paused, holding your gaze once more. “You look beautiful tonight, in case no one told you,”

“Oh fuck it,”

Luckily he understood what you meant, an arm snaking around your waist and pulling your body close to his as he leant down to kiss you. Any concerns you had for people inside seeing you immediately flew out of the window, along with any other rational thought. His lips felt better than you remembered. He used his nose to gently nudge your head to the side, allowing him better access to your mouth. One hand stayed on the small of your back, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the soft flesh there, the other came up to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back further and causing your mouth to open a little. Carlos hummed appreciatively as he licked into your mouth, drawing a small gasp from you as you finally moved from his shoulders to grip his hair. The way he tightened his hold on you was addictive.

He pulled back slowly until his mouth was hovering just above yours, his grip on your chin leaving you powerless to move closer. He pressed light kisses along your jaw and down your neck, clearly enjoying the way you were already squirming helplessly in his hold.

“You already want me, hm?” His eyes blown wide, warm brown darkened, gave away that he wanted you just as much. You tried to lean forward to get him to kiss you again, but he just pulled away with a calm tsk.

“Use your words, Princesa,” whatever you were about to say died on your tongue. He clearly wasn’t satisfied with silence, swooping back down to nibble at the base of your neck, exactly where you liked it until you could feel your resolve fading.

“Yes, I want you,”

“Good girl,” you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you. That was definitely new, and it was hot.

Carlos called the taxi. You sidled up to Meg who was sprawled out on the chairs stacked around the sides of the dance floor, letting her know quietly you had a headache and would be heading out. She nodded sleepily, not really paying attention. You slipped down the stairs to the lobby where you had a clear view out onto the road. Carlos then made a show of saying a grand farewell to everyone, thanking them for the party and the free drinks and everything else winning drivers are supposed to say, you figured.

The ride back to his hotel was fairly quiet, but it wasn’t far away. You weren’t sure what to say. You figured cracking jokes and general chit-chat would ruin the mood, and the tension between you was already thick enough that you were surprised the driver couldn’t see it. You were grateful that he didn’t seem to recognise Carlos, and the two of you were able to get to the lifts without seeing another person. You ran into the same problem in the lift. Carlos was staring at you like he’d been starved and you were his favourite meal. It was making it difficult for you to stand still, constantly feeling the need to squeeze your legs together to keep yourself upright and to try and relieve some of the pressure he’d created by barely touching you.

When the doors pinged open, he didn’t say a word. Simply placed a hand on your lower back, barely making contact, and guided you forwards. The same happened at the door to his hotel room, he just silently held the door for you and invited you in.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

You were suddenly aware of how dry your mouth was and accepted gratefully. Carlos placed the small glass in your hand and watched you carefully as you finished it.

“I’m going to say this only once,” he had your full attention immediately. He was the kind of guy who didn’t need to be loud to be listened to. “Are you sure you want this?” You couldn’t help but smile, remembering last time, when you were asked if you were okay every thirty seconds, to the point where you’d told him rather abruptly to shut up.

You nodded. But he was frowning at you again.

“Need to hear you say it,”

“Yes, Carlos, you have my consent. I want to have sex with you,” he let out a huff of a half laugh, crossing back into your space. He held your cheeks with one hand, putting just enough pressure on to make your lips pout.

“Always so blunt,” he regarded you as if you were an insect he’d trapped, with mild interest as if he hadn’t quite decided what he wanted to do with you. “Might have to fuck that attitude out of your pretty mouth,” you gulped instinctively, knowing instantly that you were game for whatever he wanted you to do that night.

He let go of your cheeks, swapping to a gentle caress of your neck, the sudden change in tone enough to give you whiplash.

“You can tap out, whenever you need,” his brown eyes were fixed on yours imploringly. You nodded, but already knew you were putty in his hands. You could feel yourself slipping into a different mindset, one where you would go along with pretty much anything as long as it felt good. And you had a feeling this was going to feel very, very good.

“Take your clothes off for me,” Carlos fell back on his bed, gesturing for you to do as he said. You weren’t the type to pull a strip tease out of thin air, but you thought you made a decent show by simply slowing down your movements, dragging your own fingers across your skin as if they were his, by languidly dropping each item in a puddle on the floor one at a time. Once you were fully naked, Carlos just nodded approvingly and pulled his jumper over his head so that he could roll up the sleeves of the white button-down he had on underneath.

“Come here,” he gestured for you, so you made your way to the edge of his bed. He held your hand gently as you climbed up, and swang a leg over his hips so you were straddling him. He watched you for a moment, examining your body up close, hands running reverently over your skin.

Something in him seemed to break because with little warning he caught the back of your head and pulled you down to him in a feverish kiss. It was a little sloppy, in a good way, as you opened your mouth obediently against his, allowing him to take full control of you. You were already sighing and whining against his lips and you could feel his mouth curving up into a smirk in response. His fingers were digging into your hips, guiding you down so that your naked body rubbed against his jeans. You let out a high-pitched sigh as the friction hit you in all the right places, small crackles of electricity winding their way up your spine had your head dropped back and you repeated the movement.

You were settling into a rhythm, enjoying the way the material was almost too rough against you. A sudden loud noise made you jump, and it was only as your backside warmed and started to sting you realised he’d slapped you. His hand was resting on the throbbing cheek, rubbing gently to dissipate the sting.

“For making me wait so long,” his voice was gruff, deeper than it was a second ago. His hand left your bum, coming back down again, hard. You’d been a little more prepared this time, but the contact still made you jolt as the sound echoed around the room and the sting flooded back.

“For being a silly girl, avoiding me,” you whimpered, but not from pain. Carlos hesitated for a second to read your expression, his hand landing against your other cheek once he was satisfied, the untouched skin blossoming much quicker.

“For you to remember your manners,” You opened your mouth immediately to argue,

“But I haven’t said-” He immediately stopped rubbing the area and gave you another sharp smack.

“Manners, Cariño,” you just nodded silently, going limp in his arms in submission.

“Good girl, let me see,” he pulled you forwards, so your chest was pressed right against his as he peered down your back, examining his handiwork. The stinging sensation was subsiding into a pleasant warmth that was making you arch your back and keen for more. He hummed in approval, complimenting the shade of pink you’d managed to produce for him.

You pulled back, and he responded with a soft kiss, but you were too riled up to go back to soft and instead pressed yourself against him, trying to convey a silent need. Your hands were working at his belt buckle as he sucked your neck. Your fingers brushed against the bulge waiting for you and he hissed, sinking his teeth into your neck. He was making it difficult to focus as you finally managed to push his jeans away and slip your hand through his boxers.

He caught your wrist just as you were getting close to what you wanted.

“No, no. I have some work to do first,”

Carlos guided you onto your back, moving on top of you. You were immediately shifting your hips up, trying to regain some of that friction from earlier as he teased your neck, large hands playing idly with your breasts.

“Carlos, please,” that seemed to do something, because he hummed against your neck, one hand coming down to test between your legs.

“So wet for me already,” he mumbled against your skin, casually brushing against your clit and watching the way you jolted into him. “One minute, okay?”

He stood up, leaving you naked on his bed. Your whole body was humming, your skin felt like it was glowing you were so hot in your need for him. Carlos was rummaging around in his suitcase, something you were largely disinterested in, keening for him to come back to you. When he stood up to return, something was in his hands.

“You trust me?” He held up two silk ties, both with the Ferrari logo at the base. You fought the urge to laugh.

“Yes,”

He towered over you as he attached your wrists to the bed posts behind you with such gentle attention you were almost surprised he was tying you up at all. The silk was soft, and the ties had just enough pressure you could feel them keeping you in place but they weren’t cutting into you enough to hurt. Carlos trailed his fingers down the side of your face, and across your lips. He pressed two fingers against your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth on instinct. You watched his eyes widen on the spot as you sloppily sucked on his fingers, swirling your tongue around them and sucking hard. You saw his demeanour falter for a second as his hand ghosted across his crotch.

“Dirty girl, thinking about my cock?” You couldn’t do anything but whine as he removed his fingers, watching the string of spit that followed with fascination. “Gonna make you feel so good,”

You’d hold him to that, you thought.

Using the fingers you’d just sucked he worked his way through your soaked folds, sliding into you with little resistance. You gasped at the feeling, it wasn’t anywhere near enough, but you were so desperate it felt good to have something inside you. The moan he ripped from you was enough to let Carlos know he was certainly making you feel good. He started to move his fingers slowly, experimenting with the depth and curl until you gave a strangled cry as he hit that spot inside you that made your vision white out for a second.

“Yes, there, please,” you were almost in tears and he’d barely done anything to you. His face furrowed with concentration as he moved slowly, making sure he hit the same spot a couple more times so you were writhing and pleading beneath him. He moved up to press a soft kiss against your lips, saying I know and you’re doing so well and just a little more without saying anything at all. His lips were burning against your skin as he left a wet path down the length of your body. Your arms were straining pointlessly against your ties, desperate to grab his head and put him where you needed most.

Without warning Carlos moved forward, licking a stipe from his fingers that were still seated inside you all the way up. You jerked involuntarily. And then Carlos dived into you like a starved man. He had all the enthusiasm of the last time he’d done this, except now he had the accuracy to have your eyes screwed shut as you were physically unable to stop the string of curse words and his name from rolling off your tongue as he targeted your clit, fingers working inside of you. You felt like you were on fire, flushing hot and cold alternatively as he built speed until you couldn’t even speak. Your body felt like it was going to explode, and you tried to relay that to Carlos but instead of stopping he pulled back, sucking on your clit.

Feeling his teeth graze against what felt like raw nerves was enough, your mind went blank as your back arched off the bed, every muscle in your body tensing as you came with a wanton cry of his name. Carlos stilled his head, allowing you to move your hips against his face until you were too sensitive and needed to stop. He kept his fingers inside of you still, just keeping them pressed up against your G-spot so the waves of pleasure crashing over you didn’t quite stop. Once your breathing had returned to normal, he pressed a kiss right against your clit, ignoring your trembling legs.

“Such a good girl,” he sounded strained. “Let’s try for one more, no?”

You shook your head, body already feeling heavy from the first. Carlos regarded you carefully. When you didn’t vocalise the no, he moved his fingers, much slower and softer, but enough to send sparks up into your belly; just poking the glowing embers remaining.

“Do you really want me to stop, Princesa?” He asked, pretending you weren’t moving your hips to meet his hand or whimpering quietly to yourself.

“No,”

“So good,” he grinned, kissing you quickly before diving back down between your legs. “Gonna make you scream for me,”

This time, he barely had to move; his mouth working you at a relaxed pace as he lazily played with your spent body. You were so sensitive that you could barely breathe, just his breath on you alone enough to have you straining against your bonds and writhing in front of him. Slowly, you started to pass through the haze of overstimulation, your mind falling back into place as the gentle licks he was working you with were not quite enough.

“Carlos,” he lifted his head at your voice, his lips and chin shining.

“What is it? What do you want?” His voice was careful and controlled, a far cry from your own as a broken moan fell from your lips. He curled his fingers inside you as he spoke. “You can tell me, Cariño,”

“More… please,” it must have been the cue he’d been waiting for, because a wolfish grin stole across his face.

“Of course,” you whimpered as he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your neck. Working his way carefully down your body, leaving no part of you untouched by his mouth. He was slowly picking up speed with his fingers as he did so, working you into a rhythm so that by the time he finally placed his mouth back on you, you cried out helplessly. He mumbled something, the vibrations moving straight through you as he focused all his attention on bringing you back to that tantalising edge. All his teasing paid off because again he’d barely needed five minutes and you were a mess.

“Please, Carlos, please,” you were calling his name like it was a prayer, your hips bucking up out of control as he flattened his tongue against you. Tears sprang to your eyes at the desperation of it all, the heat in the room almost stifling. You didn’t know exactly what you needed, all you knew was that you were blisteringly close to an orgasm and Carlos was the answer. He hummed against you as you clenched your legs together, calmly using his hands to wrap around your thighs and pull them back apart. It didn’t stop the way you felt him moan against you. He squeezed your thighs, targeting your clit at the same time and that was it.

Your head dropped back as your mouth opened and you did, actually, scream his name as you came, harder than before. Your eyes were wet, and you could feel tear tracks streaking down the sides of your face. Your whole body was blushing, the colour blooming across your cheeks and shoulders. It felt like the only thing keeping you on the planet was Carlos’ hands, holding you firm and keeping you in place as he slowed his movements to a slow kiss as you came down, positively trembling.

He pulled back, something akin to awe in his eyes as he looked at you, hands tied, legs trembling and sprawled out for him. He reached down to touch you once more, hushing you as you whimpered at the contact, the sensitivity making you shudder violently.

“Shh, you’ve been so good,” he murmured, voice soft. “Tidy up for me,” his fingers, coated in the mess from between your legs were back on your lips. You opened your mouth without question, watching the way he swallowed harshly as you licked your own juices off his fingers.

“Shit, Y/N,” you smiled through bleary eyes at the compliment, barely registering him pulling away and leaning over you to undo the ties. He caught your hands, placing a cooling kiss on each wrist as he lowered them.

“You okay? Need a break?” He was watching you, concern flashing across his eyes for a moment. You took a second to think about it, registering the way your body was already heavy and spent, but you could feel in the pit of your stomach that you weren’t done. You wanted more. You shook your head, sitting up. Carlos brushed a stray tear from your cheek, murmuring sweet nothings as he did so.

He pulled you into another kiss, his hand cupping an entire side of your face. It was easy to melt into him, the way he was so gentle with you but so commanding. He was kissing you like you might break, but at the same time, there was a searing intensity behind it that had you wanting more, again. You’d recovered some of your own movement, your hands finally had stopped shaking enough for them to become useful again. You moved up to play with the collar of his shirt, slowly working at undoing each button until it was hanging open. You ran your hands across his shoulders. He didn’t stop you, which you decided equated to permission as you pushed the material off, revelling in the solid warmth of his chest.

He’d put on a lot of muscle since you’d last seen him like this.

Your mouth was watering, Carlos’ lips reattached to your neck not helping. He pulled back, running a thumb across a spot on your neck that he’d been paying a lot of attention to, making you shiver.

“When you look in the mirror, I want you to see this and think of me,” you made a small noise at the back of your throat in response and dropped your hands to his open jeans, palming at him. He grunted, eyes fluttering shut for a second. You slid off the bed, dropping onto your knees on the floor. When Carlos opened his eyes to see you like that the noise he made was almost deadly.

“I know what you want, pretty girl,” his thumb was playing with your bottom lip, swollen from kissing. “You wanna congratulate me?” You nodded, your affirmation little more than a breathy sigh as you sat back. It gave you a small hit of satisfaction to watch Carlos move with haste for the first time that night as he stood to shimmy his jeans down his legs, followed by his boxers.

He sat back down, right on the edge of the bed, his legs spread on either side of your body. You couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of him, already hard and straining against nothing right in front of your face. You looked up at him, blinking hard as you took in the sight. He looked like a god, watching you from above with a soft look in his eye, hair flopping forward due to the bend in his neck. All tan skin and smooth muscle. He stroked your face once more.

He sat back, watching you leisurely as you moved forward, wrapping your hand around him first. There was a lot of him, but you weren’t one to shy away from a challenge. You couldn’t wait any longer, dipping your head down at the same time you gazed up, taking his tip into your mouth. Immediately, you were rewarded with the sweet and salty taste of precum on your tongue. He hissed as you bobbed your head a couple of times before dropping your head down, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could.

“Go on, Cariño, whatever you want,”

“Shit,” he groaned into his hand, composure rapidly fading as you began to work. He let you move at your own pace for a little while, rewarding you with plenty of praise as you dragged your tongue against him and hollowed your cheeks to suck. His head dropped back as he tangled a hand in your hair, tapping your cheek to still you for a moment.

“Can I?” He didn’t need to ask the full question, you humming a ‘yes’ with as much of him still in your mouth as you could. He tightened his hold on you, and you relaxed your neck, allowing him to guide your movements on his cock. It was hot, there was no denying it as you closed your eyes, squeezing your legs together to try and ignore the heat building once more, relaxing your throat and simply focusing on breathing through your nose as you let him fuck your mouth.

“So fucking good,” he spat through gritted teeth, his accent as thick as you’d ever heard it. “Such a good girl for me,” you looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent as you nodded.

“So good for your winner,” you moaned at the same time as he pushed right to the back of your throat. The combination ripped a noise from him you’d never heard before, something primal and almost guttural.

He pulled you back a little, fucking more into the hollows of your cheeks as you sucked hard around him.

“Fuck, okay. Enough,” he released his grip on you, allowing you to pull off him. You looked up at him quizzically, not sure why he stopped you so suddenly when it was just starting to get good. He chuckled at your lost expression.

“Don’t look so disappointed, Princesa,” he pulled you back up so you were standing in front of him. He pressed a kiss against your mouth, an arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down, rolling on top of you with ease. “Want to be inside you more,” he was stroking your hair, admiring the way you looked pinned beneath him.

“I want you,” you agreed, running a hand through his hair. “I want you to fuck me,” he groaned, head dropping into the crook of your neck, mumbling something in Spanish against your skin.

“You are incredible,” he praised, voice like honey. You raised your hips to meet his, a thrill of anticipation shooting through you as you felt him brush against your pussy. You were not above begging him, and he hushed you, unbothered and unrushed as he let his fingers trace down your body, before lining himself up with you.

It felt like someone had punched the air right out of your lungs as Carlos slid into you with little resistance. You could feel the stretch of him, it was making your mouth water as he filled you up the way you’d needed all night. He was still for a moment, catching his own breath as he gauged your face for a reaction. When you pulled him into a heavy kiss, mouth open and panting against him, he began to move.

Carlos dragged his hips back slowly, almost fully withdrawing from you before moving forward in one smooth motion. You could have sworn you could feel him everywhere, the pace tantalising. It was like you were laying on a bed of hot coals, not enough to burn you, but a steady heat that was stealing over your body and settling close to you. Your mind started to cloud, your only focus on the man above you and the way he was making you feel every detail of the moment.

“So tight for me,”

“Carlos,”

“You’re fucking perfect,” he all but purred, starting to increase his rhythm. Your nails were pressed into his shoulder blades. He moved with a little more force and your legs came up to wrap around his. Something in the angle he was hitting you changed, you cried out before you could stop yourself, your nails dragging hard down his back as you did so. Carlos gave a strained laugh.

“You like that, Princesa?” You were nodding weakly, as he continued to aim for the same place so the tension within you felt like a rubber band being stretched to its limit.

“Oh my god, Carlos,” he grasped one of your hands, tangling your fingers together and pinning it above your head, his face so close to yours you could pick out the gold flecks in his eyes. There was nothing smug in his expression, his brows knitted together in focus, eyes searching yours the whole time. You could feel the warmth of his lips he was so close, just hovering out of reach for a kiss.

“My name,” he paused to grunt as you contracted around him briefly, “Sounds so good from your mouth,” he was hitting you with a bruising point, the elastic band within you stretched so tight it was starting to fray. He finally ducked his head down, kissing you hard.

You all but screamed into his mouth, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as your orgasm hit, your entire body shaking violently with the force of it. Spots clouded your vision, Carlos’ hips stuttering against you with a strangled cry the only thing you could think of. You let out a broken sob, his name the only thing on your lips as he held you, letting you ride out the moment as the pair of you tumbled into oblivion.

Carlos let you down carefully, his hand running through your hair soothingly as you came back into your body. He was breathing heavily with the effects of his own high, but his entire focus was on you.

“Hey, look at me,” you managed to meet his eyes through your exhausted lids, a weak but satisfied smile on your lips.

“Hey,” you murmured. He gave you a sweet kiss.

“Hi,” you carded his hair through your fingers. You’d never noticed how soft it was. “You okay?” You nodded with a noise of confirmation. “You did so good,” you nodded again, your whole body heavy and spent as if you’d just run a marathon. You didn’t even want to know what time it was.

“That was-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, a satisfied laugh replacing the words.

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed, finally satisfied you were well enough for him to move off of you. You felt the familiar tang of loss as he slid out of you, and made his way into the bathroom. Your mind was too hazy to form proper thoughts, so you laid there naked a little longer, thinking half-heartedly about where your clothes were.

Carlos reappeared in the doorway, his figure backlighted by the soft glow of the bathroom lights. He looked ethereal, and part of you couldn’t help but be furious with yourself for avoiding him for so long. You could have had this years ago. You hadn’t noticed Carlos was crouching in front of you again, watching you with a tenderness you’d not felt in a long, long time.

“Come on, Cariño,”

“Gimme a minute to call the taxi,” you mumbled starting to pat around pathetically for your phone. Carlos caught you, concern flashing across his face.

“Woah, no, no. I meant come for a bath,”

“Oh,” you giggled stupidly as he helped you to your feet, allowing you to grip his arm as you wobbled your way to the bathroom on jelly legs.

He sank into the water before you joined him. He pulled you so your back was pressed flush against his chest, gently scooping water over your skin. You leant back allowing yourself to revel in the feeling as he pressed kisses across your shoulder, the damp ends of his hair tickling you pleasantly.

“Don’t worry, Cariño, I’m not letting you go anywhere,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this check out my masterlist here

so this got...out of hand to say the least lol. but oh my god was it so much fun to write and got me out of the little blocky funk I've been in. flat spin fans don't panic I promise it is coming I've just been really struggling with this one scene and I needed something to keep the motivation going

AND NO IT'S NOT GETTING A PART TWO BEFORE ANYONE ASKS

also i had this idea about carlos being a previous one night stand and i just had to get it down

anyway, not much else to say from me. how do we feel about midday posts over nighttime ones??

lots of love <3

carlos tags: @imreallylosingit @serialkillertbh @sticksdoesart @lovingroscoee @agentsoybean @piceous21 @whosays75 @xscorpioxmoon @miahelen @j-brielmalfoy @honeybadger03 @teapartydreams @guccicloudz @nochillnell @timetoracewrites @rmaddenns @ruledchaos @isabellabrodar @ccloaned @ihearttheoriginals @tattered-tales @ferrarifwendvale @bradfordbantams @urbankaite2 @bobohumyonlyboo @zoobabystation @formulacads @hnmaga-blog @f1-incorrect-s @alicekepley @thembeforethea @mrscevans @nora-moon @sueesstuff @turningxstrange @luvrboygaslys @sgkophie @thembeforethea @jpotterdilf @dan3avacado @missxmericana @mall--e @ohthemisssery

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #f1 #formula one #smut #requested #silverstone 2022 #silverstone #british gp 2022 #carlos sainz win

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bellesowl · 4 years

Text

kiss and make up

- multiple characters

⤷ atsumu, sakusa

genre: (an attempt at) angst to fluff ; established relationship, timeskip

synopsis: in which you have an almost relationship-ending argument

word count: 2.1k total - about 1k each

warnings: fighting (obv), being called a burden, the boys are kinda mean but they make up for it i swear

- a/n: tbh i was kinda getting sick of writing just fluff so i wanted to spice it up a lil! if this sucks i’m probably going to stick to fluff fics but i think it should be fine? this one also only has 2 characs cause idk how i would be at writing angst LMAO if this does well enough i’ll post the one i have written w kuroo and iwa <3 but i feel like this kinda sucks so oh well

- thank u @kybabi for beta-ing <3

- miya atsumu

you n atsumu have been together since high school which is why you’ve always been inseparable

you went to the same college & moved in together right after, but once he got his job with the jackals, he insisted that you didn’t work and focused on getting your master’s degree

you reluctantly agreed, if only to be able finish & earn your phd soon after

because atsumu is always busy, it’s kinda become commonplace for you to do the chores around the house- like doing the laundry or washing the dishes or cooking dinner for him

but it’s gotten to the point where he expects it

atsumu sighs, unlocking the door to your shared apartment. today’s practice was rough, it was a day of hard conditioning and bad sets and he wanted nothing more than a good meal and to cuddle. the first thing he noticed when he walked in was the mess. instant ramen bowls were scattered everywhere, empty coke cans and dirty napkins were all over the floor, and there you were, in the eye of the hurricane. the second thing he noticed was that there was no homecooked meal.

surprised, he walks into the dining room to see you, furiously typing away at your laptop with four different books surrounding you. you hear his footsteps and look up.

“hey baby! how was practice?” you ask with a smile

atsumu grunts in reply and gestures toward the kitchen, “so.. what’s for dinner babe?”

your eyes widen, “oh shoot! i’m sorry, i was so busy studying for this final that i forgot to cook. do you mind-“ you stop when you see him roll his eyes and head out.

“um, where are you going? you just got home?” you ask, following him.

“out. i have to get food somehow” he replies, “especially because my useless s/o can’t cook a goddamn meal for me” he mutters under his breath

you stop in shock because did he really just say that?

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard you right.” you start but he interrupts you

“i said, i have to go get food because someone is too busy to cook a goddamn meal. what do you even do anyways- well, besides spend my money? the least you can do is cook for me, god.” he finally turns to look at you but he feels his heart stop at the look on your face.

not wanting to escalate the situation any further, you try to calm him down, “tsum, hey, i’m sorry i forgot to cook okay? this is my last final before the year ends and i just can’t afford to fail it, so i’ve been studying all day. if you come back to the kitchen, i’ll make you something, okay?”

“i don’t want to eat your half assed attempt at a meal, y/n. the whole point is that you couldn’t get off your ass for an hour to cook when i make the money, i paid for the apartment, hell, i’m even paying for your school! is it really too much to ask for you to stop being such a burden and cook and clean everyday?” he fumed.

you gape at him, shocked that he would even say that. to hell with not escalating things

“at least i want to do something more with my life than hit balls around and retire at 35” you hiss, “and i do everything in this house! i do the laundry, i clean the bathroom, i cook - i do all the things you refuse to. and do i complain? no. i offered to get a job but you refused.”

you turn around to grab your laptop and your textbooks, “just- just do whatever the hell you want to, atsumu.” and with that you walk out the door.

atsumu’s heart drops when he realizes that you actually left. sure, you’ve had arguments here and there, but you’ve never left. he pulls out his phone to call you when he sees you’ve left yours on the counter. knowing there’s nothing to do but wait at this point, he begins to clean up and calls osamu over.

it’s already 3 am when you walk back into your apartment, and you blink multiple times when you open the door. it’s ... clean? you’re sure it was a mess when you left, so how would it be clean? you sigh, too tired to think about it more and walk into the kitchen. your eyes widen at the sight. not only is your favorite food on the stove, but there your boyfriend is, asleep on the dining table. you smile slightly, well that explains things.

“ ‘’mu, hey, wake up babe.” you kiss him lightly and shake him.

he grunts and sits up, “baby! i’m so so sorry for what i said. you are in no way, shape, or form a burden, i have no clue why i said that. today’s practice was just really tiring, but i know i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. just please-” he sighs, “just please don’t leave me again.”

your heart breaks your teary eyed boyfriend. “shh, of course baby. i’ll never leave you again okay?” you say, tugging on his arm, “cmon babe, let’s go to bed, okay?”

“mm okay my love.” he replies and practically pulls you into bed. “i love you, okay?”

“i love you too baby.” you reply

“to the moon and back?” he asks

“yeah, and to infinity and beyond.” you reply, your lack of sleep hitting you hard

“oh, i didn’t know i was dating buzz lightyear”

you let out a loud laugh and just like that you both fall into the same routine, love radiating off both of you in waves.

- sakusa kiyoomi

dating sakusa was,, challenging

it definitely took him a while to get comfortable with you

so you guys have been dating for a couple years now, and at this point he’s def clingy

however there still moments when he reverts to his old self

this just happened to be one of those times

“OUT! AND JUST LIKE THAT, EJP RAIJIN TAKES THE WIN AGAINST THE BLACK JACKALS!”

the stadium is silent before the ejp cheering section erupts in cheers. you stay silent, watching your team below. you watch as sakusa stills, still in disbelief. you make your way down, practically sprinting to your boyfriend.

he sees you on the sideline and makes his way over to you. you put on your biggest smile and attempt to make him feel better.

“you did great, kiyo! you’ll get them next time, yeah?” you beam, knowing how hard he’s been training to beat his cousin

he eyes you warily, not knowing what to say.

usually, sakusa gets pretty clingy after games, so you you move to give him a hug.

“don’t touch me” he barked, jerking away from you. “if you hadn’t been distracting me, we would’ve won.”

you stare at him, refusing to let the tears flow. you both turn when you hear a certain setter yelling at the opposing middle and you sigh.

“um, okay then. i’ll see you at home, yeah?” you ask

sakusa merely nods and makes his way over to his teammates. you look around to see if anyone saw what just happened and you lock eyes with your boyfriend’s cousin, who walks over.

“congrats on the win komori! you guys did so well!” you cheered

“thanks, y/n! and i’m sorry about kiyoomi. i’m sure you know he gets that way sometimes.” he explains

you smile and shake your head, saying that you’re used to it and you both bid your farewells. as you walk out of the stadium, you think back to how your boyfriend, the one person you loved with everything you had in you, utterly embarrassed you in front of his whole team. before you know it, silent tears start streaming down your face.

you enter your home and immediately rush to the bathroom. you draw yourself a bath and make some dinner while waiting. you assume that kiyoomi wouldn’t be home to have dinner with you anyways- and now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had dinner together. after you finish your bath and eat your dinner, you decide to wait up for boyfriend and watch a couple episodes of your favorite show to pass the time.

kiyoomi walks into his apartment at around 1 am, completely and utterly exhausted. he kicks his shoes off and drops his bag on the floor. The rustling rouses you from sleep and you sit up.

“hey kiyo” you say with a yawn, “where’ve you been all night?”

sakusa ignores you in favor of getting ready for bed and you frown when he brushes past you.

“kiyo, babe, what’s wrong? you’ve been ignoring me all night and i-” you start but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“god, just shut up, y/n. can’t you tell i don’t want to talk to you right now? i’ve already had the worst day, i don’t need you making it any worse.” he snaps

"kiyoomi, look, i understand you’re upset but you shouldn’t take it out on me.” you reason, reaching out towards him, “listen, i’m here if you wanna-”

“i said, do not touch me.” he seethes. “you are so fucking clingy y/n, lord, let me breathe a little.”

with those words, you explode. “you know what, sakusa,” he flinches when he hears his last name come out of your mouth, “i think i have the right to want to spend some time with my boyfriend! i haven’t seen you in god knows how long- you leave before i wake up and i fall asleep in an empty bed. i’ve been working my ass off to get some time off to watch your stupid volleyball game and what do you do? you embarrass me in front of your whole team!”

you sigh, wiping away the tears that continue that continue to fall. “listen, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m going to go stay at a friend’s house for the night, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow” you say, grabbing your purse. “if you’re even home tomorrow,” you add under your breath.

sakusa is in shock. the moment he saw your tears start to spill, he felt an undeniable and unrelenting ache in his chest that only seemed to grow with every work that came out of your mouth. and when the door shut? sakusa fell on his knees, his heart dropping. he truly couldn’t believe he said that to you. now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

2:38 pm - you check the time on your phone before pulling out your keys. you hope you made the right move, choosing to come back home while kiyoomi was still at practice. you open the door and the sight causes your eyes to widen.

there, on the couch with your favorite flowers in hand, is your boyfriend. he hears the door open and stands up abruptly.

“y/n, my love, i am so sorry. i truly cannot express how horrible i feel, and i cannot begin to understand how you feel.” he takes a deep breath, seemingly holding back tears. “i- i do love you. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. i know i’m not the best at expressing it, but you mean the world to me- no, you are my world. without you, i don’t know what i would do. so please-” his voice cracks, “just, please give me another chance?”

you run towards your boyfriend, practically tackling him. “kiyo, baby, of course. i love you too, you know? you just can’t do that anymore, yeah? you shouldn’t feel like you have the right to embarrass me just because you had a bad day. and please, don’t call me clingy? i know i do stick to you like glue sometimes, but that’s just because i never see you anymore.” you reply.

“that will all change, darling.” he answers sincerely, “i’ll make more time for you, i swear. in fact, i’ll take the week off, how does that sound?” at the sight of your smile, he relaxes.

“that sounds wonderful, yoomi.” you answer

sakusa feels the weight that’s been dragging him down lift and he realizes the effect you have on him- you’re his breath of fresh air. he also realizes how utterly idiotic it was to push away the one person who could make him feel better.

it’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just never make that mistake again. he swears it.

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fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you did this already (I'm sorry if you did) or somebody asked but could you do one where they supportive teammates reacts to homophobic teammates

Hello anon! This is a super interesting idea and I’ve been thinking about it for a couple days so I could get the vibe right--none of our boys would be homophobic, but new rookies on the other hand...

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, but this features a character who does not appear in SW (I’m not claiming him as an OC because he’s a dick)

TW for homophobic statements, no slurs

James caught sight of the new guy just as he was leaving the locker room, towel draped over his neck. “Rookie! Wait up, man!”

The other man paused, looking rather surprised as he jogged over. “Hey, you’re James, right?”

“Call me Pots.” He held his hand out and they shook. “Didn’t catch your name earlier, sorry.”

“Tanner Chase, nice to meet you.”

“Welcome to the team, Tanner.” James grinned. “You’re on my line, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m a winger,” Tanner said with a good bit of pride. Oh, to be twenty again, James thought. “Giving you a run for your money.”

“Sure, kid,” James laughed. “You do that. You’d have better luck with me than Loops, though.”

Tanner’s smile turned a little sharp. “Nah, he’d be too easy, am I right?”

James paused. “What?”

“Y’know, since he’s…” Talker gave him a significant look and a stone sank in James’ gut.

“I think you lost me.” I hope this isn’t what I think it is. “Because he’s a rookie? ‘cause I hate to break it to you, but—”

“No, dude, because he’s a fairy,” he snorted, as if they were still joking around.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Tanner blinked and reeled back. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t get to talk about my friends like that. Don’t talk about anyone like that. It’s not tolerated on this team and I won’t hesitate to kick your ass if I hear it again.” James made sure his voice was as even as possible, but he could tell it shook at the edges. “You just used up your one free pass, Chase.”

“Drive safe, Loops!” Talker called as Remus headed for the hall with his bag under his arm.

Sirius opened the door just as he reached it and his face broke into a smile. “Bonjour, mon amour, I was just looking for you. Ready to go?”

“Hiya, handsome.” He leaned up to peck him on the lips. “Yeah, I think I left my phone on the bench, though.”

Their conversation faded out as they wandered off together and Talker returned to his stretch, closing his eyes at the familiar burn in his hamstring. “Yikes,” the new rookie muttered under his breath. Tanner…something, Talker remembered.

“What’s up? You okay?”

Tanner glanced over at him. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Stretching? Not really, no. That’s why I do it.”

“No, not stretching. That.” He waved a hand at the slightly-open door.

“I can close it if you—”

“Dude.” Talker crossed his legs and faced him fully. “I mean Black and Lupin.”

Talker narrowed his eyes. “No. Does it bother you?”

“I mean, yeah, how am I supposed to respect a guy like that?” he scoffed.

Talker made direct eye contact with him; he wanted zero miscommunication about this. “You respect him because he’s your captain, which is a title he earned that has nothing to do with who he loves. And you respect Loops, too, or we’re going to have an issue. I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking bringing that attitude to this team, but you better drop it right now.”

Tanner turned back to his stretch. With a shake of his head, Talker collected his stuff and left him alone on the mats.

III

“Hey, Harzy.” Tanner sat down next to Finn on the bench and passed him a waterbottle. There was a shout from the ice as Remus stole the puck from Sirius’ stick and raced toward the goal, laughing loudly.

“Tan-man, what’s up?”

“What’s the deal with them?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Cap and Loops? They’re engaged, didn’t you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” There was a slight tone shift that made Finn’s skin crawl. “But what do you think about it? Isn’t it, like, a little weird being on the same team as them?”

“Uh, no.”

Tanner’s eyebrows rose. “You aren’t afraid they’re looking at you or something?”

“What part of ‘engaged’ don’t you understand?” Finn’s jaw tightened. What a little shit. “If this is some homophobic fuckery, I’d like to take this time to remind you I have two boyfriends before you say something that gets you punched.”

Tanner’s eyes went wide and he scooted away without a word.

“Alright, everyone, Sid’s tonight?” Kasey shouted over the noise. The whole locker room cheered in agreement and he smiled as the buzz of victory filled his chest. “Knutty, since my team kicked your ass, I believe you owe me a pizza!”

“I still say Cap is a cheater!” Leo called back; within a few seconds, Sirius had him in a loose headlock as he ruffled his hair. “Alright, alright, I give!”

The volume level did not die down as they all flooded into the hallway—Kasey spotted a flash of mousy brown hair out of the corner or his eye and frustration lodged in his throat. In a smooth movement, he reached out and blocked Tanner from following the rest of the group out. “Not you.”

“But it’s a team dinner—”

“And you’re not part of the team until you get your head out of your ass,” he said coolly. The jumble of voices echoed around the corner. That was his team. “Don’t think I missed those looks you were shooting Cap and Loops. You’re not invited. Go home and think about what actually matters.”

They won the next game by a landslide. Arthur Weasley was furious. Every time an opponent came to check Tanner Chase, not a single Lion moved to help him. At one point, Pots had taken the puck right off his stick and skated down the ice for a goal, leaving him in the dust. Whenever Chase was on the bench, he was pointedly ignored by the rest and left to sit alone; Logan literally sat on Talker’s lap to avoid being within five feet of the rookie.

“Team meeting, everyone sit your asses down!” he barked as he entered the locker room. Immediately, the celebratory whoops quieted. “Anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Sirius looked up at him in confusion. “I thought we played pretty well, Coach.”

“You played fine, but Chase over here got the cold shoulder like I’ve never seen before. Even the fucking commentators noticed!”

“Good,” Finn muttered under his breath.

“Shut it, O’Hara, this is not good.” He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. “Once again, does anyone want to enlighten me on this sudden attitude toward rookies? Since when are we like this?”

“It’s not toward rookies, it’s toward him,” Kasey said, glaring at Tanner from his stall. “He’s a homophobic douchebag. You want to tell Coach what you said?”

Tanner stared at the floor.

Arthur’s fury vanished. “What? Chase, is that true?” The rookie stayed silent. “Hey, kid, I’m talking to you.”

“Yes, Coach.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus’ jaw tick and Sirius’ face grow stormy.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started the first day of practice,” Pots said, crossing his arms. “Our first conversation, in fact.”

“Eyes on me, rookie.” Tanner winced as he looked up. “I know the organization has told you in the past that this kind of behavior is okay, but right here and right now, I’m telling you it’s not. If you’re going to continue with that, you can leave.”

“I just get uncomfortable when—”

“When what?” Remus asked, standing up and leaning on his stall. He looked overall unthreatening, but there was a stony look in his eyes. “Tanner, what did Sirius and I do to make you uncomfortable?”

Tanner floundered for a moment. “It’s just—the kissing, the cuddling, the nicknames, all that.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when Lily came to visit,” Remus continued. “Or Natalie, or Noelle, or Celeste. Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“But it bothers you when I call my fiancé ‘baby’, or he calls me ‘sweetheart’?”

“It does.”

“Tanner, I hope you know I’m not going to apologize,” he finally said. “If this had nothing to do with us being gay, we would tone down the PDA, but that’s clearly not the case.”

Sirius sighed. “None of us want to alienate you, but you’re making judgements before taking the time to know us. That’s a shitty thing to do.”

“You’ve never met an openly gay person before, have you?” Remus asked. Tanner shook his head. “Hi, I’m Remus Lupin. I play a wing position on the hockey team that you were just signed to and my favorite color is green. I have a dog named Hattie and I’m engaged to a man. Nice to meet you.”

Sirius walked across the room; Arthur tensed for a moment, but he stopped in front of Tanner and held his hand out. “Sirius Black, team captain. I play center and I hate pineapple pizza. Also, I’m gay. Congrats on being signed to the Lions.”

Tanner’s eyes flickered up, and after a moment’s hesitation, he shook Sirius’ hand. “Nice to meet you.” He swallowed thickly. “Cap.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Are we done with the bullshit?”

“It—it might take me a bit to get used to it.”

“Make it quick. We’ve got games to win and nobody here has time to hold your hand through it.” Sirius turned to look at everyone else, his Captain Face in full effect. “That goes for everyone, got it? No more cold shoulders, we talk this through like adults as soon as it happens.”

“You got it, Cap,” Pots said.

“Black, Lupin, can we talk?” Coach beckoned them toward the door; just before it closed, he saw Talker walk over to Tanner’s stall.

“That’s why you respect Cap and Loops,” Talker said quietly. “Not because of threats or some shit—because of that right there.”

227 notes · View notes

phykios · 3 years

Text

honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

"What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

"Of August?" she asks.

"Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"Duh."

Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

"Good, because we have plans."

She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

"No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

"Our Smarter House thing won an award."

"No shit?"

"Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

"Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

"No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

"Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

"I thought I had until two."

"That was before I had the best idea."

The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

"First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

"Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

"The guy you've been seeing."

How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

"How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

"Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

"That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

"So, for a few hours?"

She shrugs. "More or less."

"I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

"Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

"Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

"Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

"Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

"Another business bro, I assume?"

"He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

"Ballet."

Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

“I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

“Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

“I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

“The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

“Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Congrats.”

��Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

“You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

“Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

“2019 fall/winter?”

Annabeth nods.

“Styling?”

“Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

Throwing her head back, she groans.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

“Well… yeah, I was.”

“Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

“Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

“I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

“Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

“I don’t know…”

“You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

“They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

Well. They are pretty cool.

“It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

“I haven’t even done anything.”

“I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

***

“Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

“Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

“Annabeth Chase.”

She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

“And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

“You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

“Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

“I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

“I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He frowns. “You sure?”

Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

“You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

“It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

“As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

“But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

Hey, it’s her night, too.

After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

“...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

“I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

“Rehab? Really?”

“What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you

#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy #my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #ballet au

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blossyboo · 3 years

Text

You know what, I don’t care. I’m still gonna believe that Eren was the father of Historias child and that it was made out of love.

I mean if you think about it, the theory is still as strong as it was before. And I mean it is just a theory, so we are free to chose if we want to believe it or not! :)

Note: Please don’t read this essay if you just want to spread hate! I just want to share my thoughts because I know this might cheer some people up (I don’t care about what ship is canon or not, but I do care about Eren having possible offspring ‘cause I always knew that he couldn’t survive). Also, please note that English is not my first language.

This is how I see it:

The only thing that’s new in this chapter is the fact that Eren returns Mikasa’s feelings. But we are never told when or how it happened.

Now, I think that Eren only ever saw Mikasa as his family and refused to let himself feel anything more than that because he didn’t know that she felt the same (because let’s be real, EreMika is a little weird).

So, when Mikasa told him that he is her family, he took that as a rejection and refused to acknowledge his own feelings. Or maybe he couldn’t understand his own feelings until he heard that Mikasa was in love with him.

In my opinion it is also still definitely possible that Eren still had feelings for Historia. I mean, he has shown way more affection towards her than he ever did for Mikasa, and apparently he actually had feelings for her the entire time. For example, there was this whole ‘what if’ scenario where we were shown what would’ve happened if Mikasa suggested that they would run away together. But Eren actually suggested to Historia that they could run away together in chapter 130. Also, Eren was basically friendzoning Mikasa over and over again, while showing admiration towards Historia, being so close to her that Mikasa got jealous (suggesting that he was closer with her than his other friends/girls), always referring to her seperately, and so on. I think we all read the manga.

The way I see it, Eren didn’t acknowledge/realize his feelings for Mikasa until his talk with Zeke. And I know this is a bitter pill to swollow for Eremika shippers, but when Eren found out about Mikasa being in love with him, his mind wandered off to a talk with Historia about making babies while the sun was setting. And when Zeke snaps him out of it, a sad, guilty look appears on his face.

In all honesty, I took this scene as a confirmation of him being the father ever since I first read that chapter. I was so shook when I went online months later and realized that there were still a good chunk of people debunking the theory.

I mean, seriously. What else could be the reason that Eren thought back of talking to Historia about her having a child (while the sun was setting) when he was told that Mikasa was in love with him? Literally, why would he think of that in that specific moment? There is no other explanation. Even if Eren eventually returned Mikasas feelings for him, it is still possible that he is the father of Historias child and that he also had feelings for her. (I mean seriously. That’s life. And if aot is known for anything, it’s that it shows the reality of the world without prettifying it.)

Now, you could argue that Isayama only put the scene in there so readers would assume that Eren is the father (theorize). But it doesn’t change the fact that the scene is in the manga and therefore has meaning within the story. There is no other logical reason for this scene’s existence (within the story), Eren must be the father of Historia’s child. At least that’s what I believe. It is what I believed ever since I first read that chapter. (And fyi, the people I talked to in rl about aot also all agreed. I was honestly so shook when I went online and saw how many people refused to even acknowledge the possibility! haha)

Another fact that suggest that this theory is true is the fact that Historia is apparently married now to farmer-kun. If he really was the father, I don’t see why they wouldn’t have gotten married before the time skip/during her pregnancy. I also think that if he actually was the father, we would’ve gotten at least a tiny little side story of their relationship (similar to Sasha and Nicolo’s, I mean we literally only know about them that Sasha liked the food he made, but something little like that would’ve been enough for Historia and her now husband as well). But farmer-kun still has neither a face nor a name. I think what happened instead was that Historia simply told farmer-kun that she was pregnant, but did not mention Eren at all since she knew about the rumbling. And since he was still feeling like he owed her something, he agreed to take on the role of the dad for the public eye.

Historia also knew that Eren was going to die. I can imagine that over the time, Historia actually started to have feelings for farmer-kun. That exlpains why he has no face and no name. Their love-story happened during the time skip and has no relevance to the story (because he is not the father).

But why did Eren not mention his child to Armin? Simple, because he wants to protect his child. If anyone found out that Eren has left offspring... I mean, I think we all know what would’ve happened. It is like Eren said. There is no way he would have been forgiven for, you know, genocide. And his child would've had to bear the consequences of his actions.

There is also a transition from Eren’s head being carried to the child opening his/her eyes while also being carried. You know, we are free to interpret this scene as we like! And apparently Eren showing no interest in Mikasa can be interpreted as him being in love with her so I don’t think that it is too far of a stretch to connect this transition to him being the father.

So yeah, these are my two cents on this topic. I usually don’t get involved when the fandom comes together to react/fight/whatever. But I care about Eren being the dad for 4 important reasons:

Ever since finding out about the curse of Ymir, I wanted Eren to have a family before he dies. I wanted it even more when it became clear that he would commit genocide --> sealing his own fate. I still want a little baby version of Eren to be alive, because I JUST LOVE THIS CHARACTER SO MUCH OKAY.

The theme of love/having a family/multiply has been brought up over and over again, it would’ve made perfect sense if Eren wanted to have a family before activating the rumbling. It would also make the scene where Krüger tells Grisha to have a family so much more epic if Eren took that advice, showing that he understands the meaning of it.

I really don’t want to think that Historia had to degrade herself to having sex with a random guy to save herself from inheriting the beast titan. And Eren is the only possibe candidate for whom she could’ve had feelings for (and vice versa)

I don’t want Eren to die a virgin.

THE END

P.S.: I honestly don’t care about shipping. It was never about who Eren ends up with. It was set in stone that he had to die. It was only about whether or not he was the babys father and whether or not he returned Mikasas feelings. And imo, you both won! So congrats! Please don’t hate each other, this is just a manga after all.

#erehisu #historia reiss #farmer kun #WHATEVER #why is editing this post so hard #this was way easier back in 2012 #yes i am that old #thank you to anyone who takes time to read this #snk 139 #snk ch 139 #snk chapter 139

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tooruluv · 4 years

Text

Kozume Kenma x F!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo ( part 1 )

❝ i’m right here, when are you going to realize that i’m your cure, heartbreak girl? ❞

description: kozume kenma didn’t know the exact day in which he realized that he was in love with you. he knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you. the problem was, though, that you were in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

genre: angst, pining, unrequited love, (characters are aged up as the story continues)

word count: 2,373

warnings/notes: hey all! this one doesn’t really have any warnings, just strong language and lots of angst. i changed up my writing style just a bit for this one, and i’m quite proud of it so please leave me as much feedback as possible!! let’s start another journey, this time with kuroo and kenma ;)

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masterlist

“ i’m right here, when are you going to realize? ”

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Kozume Kenma couldn’t pinpoint the exact day in which he realized that he was eminently in love with you. He knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you.

The problem was, though, that you were eminently in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

The first day that Kenma met you, he had to take several seconds to process. You were the only person, the only girl, that made him have to catch his breath at the mere sight. You were brighter than the sun, shined blue like the moon. You were stunning.

And you had your arm wrapped around Tetsurou Kuroo’s.

“Kenma!” Kuroo had called from across the room, waving at his friend. Kenma complied, phone in hand and moving through the crowds without so much as lifting an eye.

Kenma was dragged to a party with the volleyball team. It isn’t that he hated people, nor was he shy. He just didn’t see the point in pretending to enjoy something that wasn’t his thing. He never understood the desire most teens had in wanting to do stupid things and interact all of the time. It sounded exhausting.

“Kenma, this is my girlfriend.” Kuroo introduced you. And Kenma looked up to meet your eyes.

“Hello!” You greeted with a smile. You had to talk a bit louder than normal over the party’s music. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we finally get to meet!”

“Same.” was Kenma’s reply. Though he wanted to say more.

As Kuroo continued to talk to the both of you, Kenma couldn’t help but watch you from his peripheral vision. You were, in simple terms, the most beautiful person he had ever met. How you managed to be so utterly taken with Kuroo he would never understand.

You kept one hand on Kuroo’s arm the entire time. Kenma could only define his feelings as jealousy.

Of course, he pushed those feelings down. Because he couldn’t possibly be in love at first sight. To his best friend’s girlfriend, of all people. No. Absolutely not.

When Kenma retreated to a corner of the house later that night, it was you who found him and sat beside him on the floor. He looked up from his game.

“Don’t stop on my account.” You told him, pulling out your phone. “Not one for parties?”

“Never have been.” He brought his head further down to shield his face with his hair. “I’m always dragged here by the team.”

“Yeah, I’m only here to meet Kuroo’s friends.” You admitted. He didn’t know if it was true or if it was a way to initiate conversation to get on his good side for your boyfriend. Either way, he turned his head to catch your (beautiful) eye. “But he decided that trying to beat Bokuto at the keg is his mission for the night.”

“Ah.”

With that, the both of you became closer. You met up with them at lunch, called him over discord to play games while both of you were at home. And Kenma felt himself falling harder and harder.

Oh, and he became your shoulder to cry on.

Because Tetsurou Kuroo might’ve been an amazing guy, a great team leader and captain, and an incredible friend; but he was a terrible boyfriend.

You were his first girlfriend, so there was room for learning and growth and improvement. But there were also faults in trying to build something that had no foundation.

A couple of months passed, and the honeymoon stage had come to an end, was the first fight.

The reason behind the fight was long forgotten by now, but it had to do with communication. A joke turned into seriousness that it hadn’t meant to be, and it ended in a heated argument between you both. He had ended up calling you an awful name, so you left.

Kuroo called after you, instant regret and apologies rushing off of his lips, but you were already gone.

You ended up at Kenma’s. You knocked on his door with tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. How could he have said no?

With a small voice, you asked, “Can we just play games, please?”

“Of course.” Kenma replied without asking anything else.

He sat on his bed and you sat in a beanbag as you played a game on his TV. He didn’t say anything when he watched you cry silent tears. Instead, he handed you a juice and bag of chips.

You accepted, pretending that there weren’t tears streaming down your red face. Because he knew you, and knew that if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t pressure you to.

“Mario Kart?” He offered.

“Oh, you want to lose?” You quipped. A quirk in the corner of your lips.

Even a small smile from you made him feel better. And fall harder.

When you returned home that night, Kuroo stood in the exact spot you had left him in. He immediately sent you a thousand apologies, voice choked. You forgave him before he even spoke

All relationships are rollercoasters, to say the very least. They have their ups and downs, their fast and slow parts, their beginning and end. Your relationship with Kuroo was definitely one of twists and turns.

Kenma sat on the sidelines and watched it all with a knot in his stomach. He held it down, further and further with each passing day.

Immediately after one intense game that they inevitably won, Kenma searched for you. You rushed from the crowd and into your boyfriend’s arms, congratulating him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Kenma wondered if the two of you had kissed at that point, you had been together for a month. He had to stop himself from going down that rabbit hole.

It was when you turned to him that Kenma’s entire world was put on pause. You were the only thing that could move.

“Congrats Kenma!” You cheered, bringing him in for a hug. Kuroo chuckled beside you as Kenma just stood with his arms at his sides, completely paralyzed. “You were amazing! What the fuck! That last play…”

Your voice was drowned out. You pulled away to talk more about how great he did during the game. But he couldn’t listen to the praise coming from your tongue. He just couldn’t.

Once you were out of earshot, Kuroo turned to him. With a big dorky smile on his face, Kuroo asked, “She’s the best, isn’t she?”

“Sure.” Kenma replied, but he wanted to go on and on.

Becoming very good friends with Kozume Kenma resulted in a lot of third wheeling. Not that you would ever intentionally exclude him. In fact, you tried to make sure that he was a part of everything the two of you did. Even if it was just something as little as an invite.

The third wheeling mainly consisted of Kenma’s aching heart as he endured the presence of the two of you. Every time that he would catch a glimpse of your hand in Kuroo’s, or Kuroo’s hand on your thigh, or a quick kiss on the cheek, Kenma couldn’t help but wish that it was him instead.

Kuroo caught him staring, once.

He was dragged to a bonfire with the team, and he dreaded every second of it. He never understood why people would enjoy sitting around a fire and being eaten by bugs. He also didn’t like marshmallows.

You were sitting on Kuroo’s lap on a lawn chair, legs draped over his and your body curved into his side. Kenma couldn’t help but watch as he said something into your hair and you laughed, smacking Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo found Kenma’s gaze. He sent him an oblivious smile and waved him over, thinking that Kenma was feeling awkward about sitting on the sidelines. Oh, how close he had been to the truth.

“Hey, Pudding Head.” Kuroo teased. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You looked up from your position on his lap, and Kenma thought of a million things at once.

“Yeah.”

Kuroo offered the seat beside him, and Kenma accepted. Kuroo knew him better than anyone, this was something that he knew for certain. He wondered if his feelings for you had been obvious. Kuroo never brought it up.

The rest of the night consisted of Kenma pretending to not be affected by your whispering and giggling with his best friend.

Kozume Kenma remembers one specific moment of his love more vividly than the rest.

You were at his house, hanging out on a day off. There were no tears, no anger or sadness towards your boyfriend. It was just a good time with just the two of you. Kuroo had something with his family, so he wasn’t present.

He didn’t remember exactly how the two of you ended up in this position, but he would not complain.

Your head laid in Kenma’s lap, hair fanned out along his thighs. You were watching him beat this game he just got, eyes focused on the screen. Kenma sat against the wall on his bed, arms on either side of your head with his controller in his hand in his best attempt to not touch you.

“Why don’t you like to touch me?” you asked him.

The question caught him off guard, and he had to hide the surprise on his face. “Hm?”

“Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed.” You shifted to look up at him. Kenma had to adjust his legs to hide something he didn’t think you wanted to see. “I figured that you might be a germaphobe or something, because you always seem to keep your distance or freeze up when I grab your wrist or hug you. But I don’t think you are one, considering you play volleyball with a bunch of sweaty men.”

“I. Um.” Kenma paused the game and looked down at you. Searching for excuses, racking his brain for any fake plausible answer that he could give you instead of I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you and every time that the two of us make contact I feel like a firework about to explode (and it goes straight to a different part of me that I do not wish to discuss with literally anyone). Because that would go over well.

With the little thoughts he could muster, he lied, “I’m not used to girls voluntarily touching me.”

You accepted his answer, nodding with your head still against his thighs. He looked down to see that you were already staring back up at him. “What?”

“I was just wondering why girls weren’t throwing themselves over you.” You sent him a smile. He wanted to die. “You’re a catch. I promise I’ll be more careful if me touching you makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” Kenma quickly added. Maybe a little too quickly. “This,” he gestured to the current position the two of you laid in. “This doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I guess some things just take time.”

You smiled at him again. That stupid, gorgeous smile. “One day you’ll be so comfortable with me that you won’t even notice if I kiss you.”

The world was testing him. The gods were playing a game with him. He returned his attention to the game, hoping he wouldn’t collapse on the spot.

One night, around half a year into your relationship, Kenma received a call at the asscrack of dawn. Groggily, he answered without looking at the caller.

“Hello?” He asked, voice heavy in sleep. Who would call him at this time? On a school night, no less.

“Kenma.” His ears perked up at your voice. He sat up. “Kenma, please give me some advice.”

It was the first time that you had ever wanted to talk about a fight. True, it was only the third time, but it meant the world to him that you wanted to talk about it. Even if the sun wasn’t even up yet and he had several hours left to sleep.

“What happened?”

A sniff. He was going to kick Kuroo’s head, he decided.

“I just… how do you deal with someone who refuses to talk to you?” You paused, as if you were trying to put together your words. Kenma waited. “Kuroo is great most of the time, but he leaves me hanging so much. I can go the entire weekend without so much as a text. And today something had happened, I knew it the second I saw the look on his face. But he just won’t talk to me. And today,” Another sniff. “Today, I brought it up and he was really dismissive and told me that I didn’t need to be so clingy. Clingy.”

Kenma had to stop himself from saying something like, if you were with me I would love it if you were clingy.

“Kuroo’s an idiot.” Kenma told you. “He doesn’t know how to talk about things that he actually needs to talk about. Next time you talk to him, tell him how his actions make you feel rather than what he needs to change. You’ll get into his brain easier, it’ll click with him.”

You paused again. Taking his words in. “Thank you. Thanks for being a friend.”

“Of course.”

Friend. Because that was all he would be, all that he could be.

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latteunwoo · 4 years

Text

first love || l.mh

↪ in life, many have experienced what it’s like to have a first love. this is how lee minho became your first love.

pairing: high school student!lee know x reader (feat. stray kids)

genre: fluff; humor; angst (??????? not too much, just the ending </3)

word count: 3.2k

A/N: This is the first part of my Lee Know series. I’m still a bit rusty since it’s been a while since I’ve gotten the motivation to write again but I hope you guys still like it and can bear with me. In this series, Lee Know, the reader, and the other members of Stray Kids are not idols. Do note that most of the content are not real/accurate because this is an AU (Alternate Universe).

stray kids m.list || main m.list

Everyone has had their first love; that special someone that makes us experience love in an intense and special way for the very first time. For you, that was Lee Minho.

In fact, you were both each other’s first loves. The two of you had grown up together as you two just so happened to attend the same schools and as cliché as it sounds, one of you would’ve ended up developing feelings for the other one.

Funny enough, Minho was the one who started crushing on you first. He realized it in second grade that you were the girl of his dreams. Though at that age he didn’t realize it was love, he still was smart enough to know that he wanted to do everything in his power to impress you however he can.

It wasn’t his intention to make it look like he was purposefully doing better than you to mock you or anything though that’s how some of your classmates had falsely assumed it was. He just genuinely wanted to do good so he could impress you, though you hardly ever noticed any of his signals; or at least you made it look that way as you didn’t want to assume anything.

Unlike Minho, you were pretty good at hiding your feelings. As you two started to go through puberty and Minho had started to look more different, you started noticing him more; especially when he started getting into dance.

Other than all the things Minho was good at, dancing was his top expertise and something you could tell he was really passionate about. This was also something that made him more popular amongst the other girls.

You realized it in middle school that you may have a crush on him as your heart started racing even faster whenever he would call your name out loud when he saw you every morning and insisted that you two walk to class together and you couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever some of the other girls in your class would crowd around him after his dance performances. Though you managed to not make your feelings for him noticeable; at least for a while.

"Are the results out yet?” Your friend Mina asked as the whole classroom was currently filled with a lot of chatter during the first break because today was the day the results of each grade’s class presidents and vice presidents were going to be released.

“They’ll be out during lunch time,” you said as you pulled out your books for the next class.

“We all know who the president is gonna be,” Your other friend Soojin scoffed as you all looked over to where Minho was entertaining some of the girls in your grade in the hallway.

“Hey! Don’t say that, maybe this year it’ll be Y/N,” Mina said as she hit Soojin’s arm.

“What? It’s true. He always wins.”

“Well, you don’t know! Y/N has gotten really popular too.”

As the two of them started bickering with each other you softly laughed before going back to prepping for the next class.

It was true. Minho always won because all the girls and a majority of the guys in your grade would vote for him. Not only was he the school’s ‘visual’ but he was extremely talented and smart which made his overall appearance even better in their eyes.

You don’t despise him or anything for always being first and leaving you with second place however. You did have to admit that he wasn’t so bad and it wasn’t like he ever rubbed it directly in your face or said anything mean to you about it, so you didn’t really have a proper reason to hate him.

It wasn’t like everyone hated you either. Amongst the girls in your grade, you were first at least. You were really smart and humble; and you were Minho’s friend which gave you an advantage in everyone else’s eyes despite you not really showing your friendship with him off.

Once lunchtime came around, everyone scurried out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang and ran to the first floor of the building to see the results.

“Are you not coming?” Soojin asked as you shook your head and gave her the excuse that you were just going to stay in the classroom to study, “Suit yourself then. We’ll bring you some food when we come back!”

Not even ten minutes later, the two of them came rushing back into the room. They both started saying things at the same time it was hard to understand what they were trying to tell you at first since their voices overlapped with each other.

“Calm down. What happened?” You asked as you tried to calm the two down a bit and have them speak one at a time.

“You... You won for... for class president,” Mina said as she was still trying to catch her breath from running all the way up here from the first floor.

“What?” You asked as you grabbed each of them and looked at them directly in the eyes and searched for any sign that they were possibly joking but they looked genuinely as surprised as you were.

“Yeah, we overheard some of the students talking and apparently Minho had told Mr. Kim to give the spot to you instead.”

“Why would he do that? Is he trying to mock you or something?” Soojin asked as the two of them started talking about what could cause Minho to willingly give his spot as class president to you.

You couldn’t really focus on what they were saying or even at all for that fact though as you were trying to figure out if Minho was doing this to help you or insult you.

“Congrats Y/N,” your teacher as your classmates cheered you on and although you just smiled at them you couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the situation.

It was weird. Minho had given the class president spot to you but why was he suddenly acting so cold around you? Ever since the results got out, he’d only give you short responses and never really gave you any time outside of the time you spent together doing your class president and vice president tasks to talk.

“Minho,” you softly spoke as the two of you were currently working on a setting up your class’s booth for the school festival, “c-can we talk later?”

“We have to work the booth,” he simply replied as he moved past you to work on putting up the sign on your booth.

“Pft, whatever,” you snickered as you glared at his back before going back into the classroom to get the rest of the decorations.

“You don’t think...” Mina wondered as she looked at Soojin to see if she had the same idea.

“No way,” they both gasped as they now looked at you who wasn’t really paying attention at first because you were busy making more paper flowers for the booth.

“What?” You asked, looking up at them after feeling their gazes burning into your skin.

“He likes you.”

“Huh?”

“Lee Minho likes you,” they both said as they started teasing you about the possibility of Minho acting this way because he likes you; though you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burning at the thought of it.

“You’re both crazy,” you said as you threw one of the paper flowers at them before grabbing the box of them you had made back to the booth to start hanging them onto the booth, “They’re crazy. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t even-”

Before you could even finished your question, you felt one of the legs on the chair you were standing on snapped. You had expected to land straight onto the concrete, however you were surprised when you opened your eyes to see Minho looking down at you as he had caught you before you landed straight on the ground, “Are you okay?”

“H-huh?” you stuttered as you felt very flustered at how close the two of you were.

“Are you okay?” He asked again as you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“Oh. Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you said softly as you attempted to stand up on your own only to fall back down on the ground as you felt a shot of pain in your right ankle.

“Y/N!” Minho exclaimed as he crouched down to your level and pressed his hand gently on your swollen ankle, “You’re not okay. Here, hold onto my shoulder, I’ll take you to the nurse.”

Before you could even protest, he had swung your arm over his shoulder and carried you bridal style to the nurse’s office while you heard multiple ‘Oooohhhhh’s and whistling from the students who had witnessed the scene.

As the nurse wrapped a bandage over your swollen ankle, you and Minho looked everywhere but each other. It’d be a lie if either of you said the situation didn’t feel awkward since you two weren’t really on talking terms; thanks to him of course.

“There,” the nurse grinned as she started cleaning up the wrappers from the bandages, “it’s not broken, but it has been sprained so it will take a few days to heal. For now you can ask your boyfriend to-”

Before she could even finish, you had instantly sat up from your spot and Minho had stood up from the chair he was sitting in and you two both started protesting that he wasn’t your boyfriend. The nurse simply just smirked at the two of you before leaving you to go take care of another student on the other side of the curtain.

“Here. Let me help you.” Minho said as he quickly went over to help you off the bed, not really knowing where to put his hands though somehow one of his arms ended up on your waist as you had supported yourself on him by wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached for the crutch the nurse had given you and placed it under your right arm before releasing your arm off of his shoulder.

“Oh,” he said as he was still staring at you, his arm still around your waist, “No problem.”

“You can let go of me now, I got it,” you smiled at him as he instantly snapped out of it and let go of his grip around your waist.

“Sorry,” he muttered as you started walking back to the booth while he followed shortly after.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with you sitting on a chair at the booth finishing up the decorations there while Minho put them up for you. There was a silence between the two of you as you two worked, however this silence wasn’t awkward anymore.

“Ah, what time is it now? I still need to change out of my uniform,” you said to yourself as you reached for your phone to check the time.

“It’s almost five. Do you need help?” Minho asked as his eyes widened when he realized that what he had said might have been taken the wrong way, “I-I didn’t mean like- I just- I meant-”

You just laughed at his stuttering and stood up from the chair to head over to the locker rooms where you had told Mina to meet you at, “It’s fine. I know what you meant but I already told Mina to come help me. You can just take a break. I’ll be back!”

“Woah, Y/N is that you?” Chan teased as the other boys had turned their attention to you.

“Do I look that bad?” You asked as you fixed your skirt and pushed some of your hair behind your ear.

“Badass, for sure yeah,” Jisung exclaimed and you just let out a small laugh at the younger boy as he continued, “But really, you look really nice, Y/N!”

“Thank you, Han,” you smiled as the other boys had joined in on complimenting you while Minho felt like he couldn’t breathe.

You were really pretty to begin with, Minho admitted that, however right now you just had a different glow radiating off of you and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You had noticed him staring and even looked over to try to catch him in the act, but before you could even say anything he either looked away or made himself busy by helping any of the other students who had come over to your booth.

Business at the booth started to slow down as most of the students were on the soccer field watching the performances. This gave you the perfect opportunity to count how much money you guys had made. Though you couldn’t really concentrate as you felt someone staring at you.

You quickly turned your head toward the boy sitting next to you, surprised at how close you two actually were from each other, “D-do I have something on my face?”

Minho didn’t even answer you, his eyes moved from your eyes to your lips as he leaned in closer before connecting your lips. Your eyes widened at the action. You could feel your heart racing out of your chest; which is something that has been happening a lot lately whenever you were around him.

As you were about to kiss him back, the boy quickly had snapped out of his trance and instantly pulled away to your dismay. It’d be an understatement if you said that you didn’t feel your heart fall to the floor when he pulled away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he moved back in his seat and looked away from you, his cheeks and ears burning red. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. I must be insane, he thought to himself as his heart started racing once again as he thought about what he had just done.

It was your turn to stare now. You looked at the boy as what the girls had said earlier started playing in your mind and you started wondering about what he could be feeling. Could he actually have feelings for you or?

He felt movement next to him and turned his head to see what you were doing only for you to catch him by surprise as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to you and press your lips on his this time. When you pulled away, you looked at the boy in front of you who was still currently in a state of shock.

“Do you like me?” You asked as his eyes widened even more.

“I-I can’t breathe,” he stuttered still trying to catch his breath as you raised an eyebrow at him, “I mean, yeah. I like you. So much that I can’t breathe.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, “That’s why I told Mr. Kim to make you class president instead because I knew how much you wanted to be class president and I had thought that if I did that you’d like me more but I overheard you talking with the girls about how you didn’t feel comfortable that I did that so that’s why I distanced myself because I didn’t want you to be more upset with me, but Y/N I really do like you. I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted, “but you could’ve just told me in the first place that you liked me.”

“I know. I’m sorry-”

“Also, I like you too,” you said as Minho felt his cheeks and ears burning even more.

“You do?” He asked and you nodded. “Will you be my girlfriend then?”

Though part of you had expected the situation to turn this way, the way the word ‘girlfriend’ sounded coming from him caught you off guard.

“S-sure,” you stuttered as his smile grew wider and he engulfed you into a tight hug, “Now I can’t breathe.”

He quickly loosened his grip on you before bowing his head down, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured as you gave him a reassuring smile.

You’d be lying if you said the first few days, maybe even weeks, of your relationship wasn’t a bit awkward. Since it was both of your first times being in a relationship, neither of you knew what exactly to do or at least was appropriate enough to do.

“Can I hold your hand?” Minho had asked nervously the next school day after the festival with one hand hovering hesitantly next to yours while the other was behind his neck.

“Yeah,” you said trying not to seem too forward as you closed the distance between both of your hands and intertwined your fingers while you lead him the rest of the way to school.

As you two got closer to campus and you started seeing more of your classmates, you became more nervous about whether you should just let go of his hand or not. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed about being in a relationship with him but you were just worried about your classmates having negative thoughts about the relationship and you didn’t want him to get hate about it or anything.

“If you feel uncomfortable about being public with our relationship, it’s fine they don’t have to know,” Minho assured you as if he had read your mind.

“I just don’t want anyone to think I’m just using you or anything.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine if you want to keep it lowkey for now.” He gave you a reassuring smile as he slowly let go of your hand before the two of you started walking the rest of the way together.

This became a daily routine for a few weeks. The two of you would walk to and from school together though you would stop holding hands when you were within view of your other classmates. And you would only have small dates at either of your houses. Minho didn’t mind though because he himself was also very worried that if you two showed off your relationship a bit more that the girls who were always fangirling over him at school would hurt you and though he knew he could protect you from them he still didn’t want you to end up feeling uncomfortable about the thought of them hating you for it.

Obviously with both of your friends being very nosy, it wasn’t too long until they started to find out that the two of you were actually in a relationship already. They knew you both had feelings for each other, though they didn’t know you two had already confessed at the school festival.

Seeing your friends being supportive about the relationship boosted your confidence about being public with your relationship with Minho. You two started holding hands all the way to class and sometimes even during school when you had breaks; him sometimes stealing a quick kiss too and earning cheers from your classmates.

Eventually the two of you became more comfortable with each other and practically became inseparable. As you two were each other’s first loves, your entire relationship was spent not only learning more about each other but also what it means to truly love someone. You two were so much in love with each other that you had thought it would last forever. However of course, the reality of it was that sometimes your first love wasn’t meant to be your last.

part two || skz m.list

#lee know #lee know stray kids #lee know skz #skz au #skz fluff #stray kids au #stray kids fluff #lee know au #minho au #lee minho #minho stray kids #minho skz #kpop au

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scribble-blog · 5 years

Text

Soulmate AU part 3!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!

Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!

Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”

Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.

“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”

“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.

“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”

“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”

“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”

“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.

“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”

“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.

“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”

“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”

“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”

That does make Marinette feel better.

“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”

“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”

“Nope,�� Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”

“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”

Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”

“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.

“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”

Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”

Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”

She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”

———

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.

But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.

“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.

Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”

Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”

He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.

“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“

“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.

“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”

“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.

“You kept trying to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“

“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”

Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.

Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.

And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.

Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”

Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”

“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”

Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”

“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”

Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.

He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.

He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.

One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.

All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

A June Love Story (Pt 2)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Epilogue

June. Three years ago.

Harry: The outdoor garden is alight with laughter and happy greetings as everyone comes together for Jack and Jess’s baby shower. I try to find a familiar face as I walk through the gates, but I only recognise Jack’s family. My eyes continue scanning anyway, barely admitting to myself I was looking for one face in particular.

A small gasp from beside me lets me know my girlfriend had returned with our name tags. Leave it to Jack to have nametags at a baby shower to help everyone mingle. “This is lovely isn’t it?”

I look down at Alyssa, my girlfriend of seven months-the longest I’d kept a girlfriend in a while. Jack’s Jess actually made the introduction, she was her maid of honour at their wedding. And as cliche as it was, the maid of honour did indeed end the night in the best man’s bed.

Alyssa scrunchles her nose and loops her arm through mine, “let’s go find the parents-to-be!”

“Yeah okay,” I laugh. Alyssa was always a bubbly personality, never a mean word out of her. It was refreshing but the complete opposite of how I could get. I always had to watch what I said, she was too soft for harsh words.

“I heard there’s a secret baby wager going around,” Alyssa tells me as we make our way to the deck. “Don’t tell Jess though, I’m pretty sure it was Jack who started it.”

“Oh it was definitely Jack who started it,” I chuckle. “You can get him to bet on anything.”

“So?” Alyssa peers at me. “What did you wager?”

“Why did you think I wagered?” I laugh but Alyssa only raises her eyebrow; I give in. “A boy.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes but we stop the conversation as Jess nears, “There you are!” She hugs the both of us and the girls begin gushing over how big her bump had gotten. As much as I would love to have kids of my own someday, it wasn’t today. I zone out and look around the small garden, I almost don’t catch her.

Y/N, in the flesh. The last time I saw her was Jack’s wedding, she’d been a little cold. I didn’t blame her. After she broke down in front of me at her housewarming, I guessed she was embarassed again. But she stayed away the whole weekend, avoiding me until I cornered her on the dance floor on wedding day.

She’d confessed, she was avoiding me. And she also admitted she was confused anytime she saw me, it complicated her feelings, her relationship with Nate which she was sorting out. She didn’t want to put more strain on it. I told her to break up with him. She got upset and said I would never understand, things were complicated. She left. I decided Y/N was never going to leave Nate, I was putting my love life on hold for her but “we” were never going to happen. So I went to bed with the maid of honour.

When I realised a few weeks ago I was seeing her again, I couldn’t stop thinking about her again: all my old feelings resurfaced. And here I was trying to find her face in the crowd even though I was here with Alyssa. But there was a draw to Y/N I couldn’t deny. It was unhealthy.

She’s talking to Jack, I realise. And her hair was short. Really short. And dyed. She has on a white tee tucked into loose green trousers. There was no Nate in sight. I had to talk to her before he showed up and ruined things as he did.

“Look at Harry eyeing Jack,” Jess’ voice snaps me out of it. I didn’t realise how hard I was staring. “You can be excused from this boring conversation Harry! Go talk to him!”

Alyssa giggles and pecks my cheek before leaving with Jess. I push aside the guilt of what I was really looking at, I do what they say. My heart pounds the closer I get to her.

“The godfather to my unborn child,” Jack spots me first and rushes me. I grapple with his body and hug him.

“I will ruin your child if you make me the godfather,” I swear. “I don’t know the first thing about kids. I’m not worthy.”

“Nah I’ve seen you with your wittle fans,” Jack mocks and looks over at Y/N to include her. “He’s this big softie inside.”

“Y/N,” I acknowledge her, anticipating a cold nod. But surprisingly, her face breaks into a genuine smile and it takes my bloody breath away.

“Harry,” she moves to give me a hug. She’s warm from the sun and smells like lavender. I could stay there longer but we break apart.

“Look at the two of you,” Jack comments as we break. “No fighting, no rudeness. Almost like we’re all adults.”

“I can speak for myself, but I don’t know if we can call Harry that quite yet,” Y/N teases.

“There it is, I should’ve known it was coming.” Jack swings his arm and we all laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Alyssa comes up from behind and she joins the group. With the way Y/N watches her arm wrap around my waist, I realise she didn’t know. She didn’t know. And her face falls now that she does.

“These two finally getting along,” Jack says when nobody talks.

“I don’t think we’ve formally met,” Y/N sticks out her hand. “You’re Jess’ bridesmaid right?”

“Maid of honour,” Alyssa corrects and I watch my worlds collide as they shake hands. “But most people call me Alyssa.”

That earns a laugh but as the group eases into small talk, I avoid looking at Y/N. I didn’t know what I expected today, but the reality of it makes me realise I was in some deep shite.

Y/N: The one time I’m finally single, Harry’s not. It’s my bloody luck! I’m single after years and the one guy I thought I might reconnect with, is taken. The worst part, by a kind and gorgeous woman.

The last time I saw Harry was at Jack’s wedding. I was still with Nate then, we were on the cusp of another breakup. But it felt different that time. Seeing Jack marry the woman he was so clearly in love with, the same woman who’d broken his heart after their split...it made me realise things. Nate and I broke up again and again and every time we got back together, we were just more broken than before. We were papier maché of broken bits acting like a perfect whole-Jack and Jess broke up once, and soon as they got back together, Jack had proposed and she’d said yes. And I was still in the same shitty relationship from my early twenties. I couldn’t even imagine Nate proposing. It was pathetic how I fooled myself into thinking we were worth something together.

What was more pathetic was it took another month to officially break up with Nate. Convince him it was for good, forever. It took a week for him to move on to a girl he met at a club. And another four months of living in the empty house he’d moved out of because it was my name on the lease. As soon as the year was over, I’d found the first decent flat and that marked the end of a shitty almost decade of my life.

And today, it seemed my shitty decade persisted. It was clear I was fated to be alone and miserable.

“So where’s Nate?” Harry asks me and that gets a string of swear words out of Jack. Alyssa looks on confused.

“We broke up,” I say simply, carefully watching Harry’s barelt hide the shock and something that almost looks like regret. I wondered what was going on in his head, and immediately feel like a bad person. He was in a happy relationship, I shouldn’t interfere.

“Thank fuck,” Jack says just as Jess walks up. He winces and covers her stomach.

“You know you’re not covering the baby’s ears, right?” Jess says to Jack.

“I am-I’m a doctor honey, I would know.” Jack says and kisses Jess. My heart twinges, I can’t help it. I missed the feeling of being so in love.

“So as a doctor can you figure out why Alyssa is so afraid of children,” Harry asks, the conversation fast moving away from my breakup thankfully. But moving towards Alyssa and Harry having a baby and the thought makes my stomach drop.

“I just don’t want to bring another human into this world!” Alyssa defends herself, it sounded like it was an argument they’d had before. “I’ll gladly be the godmother though. I just don’t want any of my own.”

“Isn’t it nice the godmother and father of our children made it easy for us, they’re already a couple.” Jack comments.

“Thanks to my matchmaking skills,” Jess says. So that’s how it happened, I think.

***

My cramps kick in later in the day and I scramble to find a painkiller. The intensity makes me sit out of the games, so I settle down on a picnic blanket near a garden patch, happily watching the competition between Jack and Jess’ friends. Three girls and guys stand as their groups try to make diapers out of TP before they tag the next person to change a doll’s diaper. A baby-themed obstacle course, which was probably Jess-inspired. I smile at the thought.

Lost in thought, I pick up a few of the fallen flowers just as a pair of sneakers come into view and breaks me away from my thoughts.

“Can I join you?” Harry’s low voice asks.

“Sure,” I brush aside my mixed feelings and shift to make room. He sits down, leaning back to watch the games. One of the girls being dressed was Alyssa. Her back is mostly to us but he watches her fondly.

“It’s been a while,” Harry finally says, looking over at me.

“Yeah,” I twirl a flower in my fingers, a couple petals fall off. “Feels like a lifetime ago though since we last saw each other. Congrats, by the way, on your awards.”

I’d watched every second of that awards show, attentive to every moment Harry was on screen. I’d gone to text him later that night and realise I never even had his number.

“Thanks,” Harry skims past the accolades humbly. “Seems like a lot has changed between now and then.”

“I know,” I try not to sound bitter. “I finally broke up with Nate, you got together with Alyssa-who is lovely by the way. Let’s see...you won an amazing award-your career’s really taking off, I moved into a flat in central and got a promotion and...am I missing anything else?”

“You changed your hair,” Harry says like duh.

I laugh and point to his buzzcut, “Yeah. I did, so did you.”

It was a rash decision on my part. When I moved into the new flat, I wanted to be done with every part of my old life. So I’d done something drastic. Remembering it dredges up unwanted feelings: loneliness, anger, insecurities, and unhappiness. I go quiet as Harry laughs at something that happens with the obstacle course. It takes me back to when we first met, how I wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of my life. And that wasn’t something I could have anymore.

“Earth to Y/N,” Harry says gently. I’m too lost in thought to look up but he calls my name again, his fingers lifting my chin up so I’m looking at him. He’d shifted closer to call my name, leaning on his hand that’s splayed right beside me, the tips of his fingers a breath away from my thighs. The pain of being so close to him yet not being with him is palpable.

With his fingers still on my chin, my eyes meet his and I realise I’d never seen them this close up with the sunlight leaving no shadows in sight. They ask me a question I don’t know how to answer, they ask if I was okay. But I really didn’t know anymore.

I put on a smile for his sake, so he wouldn’t ask out loud, and push the flower I was playing with behind his ear. He looks cute, and my smile widens as I drop my hand down to lay beside his. His smile stays in place, his pinky reaching out to touch me while his eyes still watch me, asking the same question. My smile drops away and I look down again to our hands so close together. I couldn’t let him see me cry like he did once. I was stronger than I was then-I couldn’t cry.

“Harry there you are! Do you like it?” We both look up as Alyssa comes running up to show off her TP diaper and sash. Harry leans away and I immediately miss the feeling of him being so close. God, what was wrong with me.

“Wow what a look,” Harry stands up and walks towards her. She grins, so clearly in love with him. Like his eyes were only for her-and they probably were. I think I pushed Harry away one time too many. Our chance was gone. Yet to think all he had to say was “yes” four years ago, we could have had our chance all this time.

June. Two Years Ago.

The crowd was huge and I grab Jack’s arm to avoid getting lost. The sun was relentless, shining down her rays until I was sticky and sunburnt.

“Can you believe this?” Jack shouts to me. I mouth an I know as we grin at each other. It was the first festival we’d been to in years, the feeling of hot bodies packed together in the sun was not as fun in your late twenties than your early twenties. The only reason we were here was because Harry was playing and we were stoked, ready to scream with the crowd as he performed. I told him I would wear the neon cowboy hat so he could find us in the crowd.

“Our boy’s a bloody rockstar!” A giddy laugh bubbles up as we make our way into the crowd to find Jess and Alyssa.

It had been a year since I found out about Alyssa and Harry, I was crushed about it. But Harry really was incredibly happy with her, and the more time I spent with her the more I liked her and got over my petty feelings. Jack usually invited me to be their fifth wheel on double-dates or would set me up with a friend of his and Jess’. None of the setups were as good as Harry but a couple did last a few months. I was feeling better than I had in a long time though, and finding my freedom in being single. And Harry and I were actually friends, often texting each other stupid memes and videos.

“There they are!” Jack points to two girls. I slow down as Jack rushes to surprise Jess from behind. I slowly approach and Jess pulls me into her famous hugs.

“It’s so he can spot us,” I say when Jess asks about my choice of hat. “Speaking of the devil...” I look to the front just as Harry walks onstage and the crowd around us becomes one large megaphone.

And the experience is pure magic. Harry becomes otherwordly on stage as he performs the songs I knew every word to and we all shout the lyrics back to him. During his slower songs, the crowd quiets down and my heart bursts realising just how much I loved the man onstage. How loved he was by the enormous crowd.

“I’m so telling Harry he made you cry,” Jack says in my ear and I startle; I didn’t realise I was crying.

“I’ll kill you-“ I say as Jack already snaps a picture. I stick up my finger for the second and he takes a selfie with me for the third. I roll my eyes as Harry introduces his last song.

“It’s not on my album, or any platforms. I think it’s my first time performing it...”

I assume it was a song about Alyssa, he’d already sang two about her. I glance at her to see her reaction but her head is bent over a phone. Curiosity gets the better of me-who would she be texting while Harry was performing?

I could barely make out the name but it’s definitely not Harry’s; I can only see hearts. The texts themselves...I quickly bounce back on my heels and look away just as Alyssa looks back at me. I pretend to be interested in Harry, only glancing at her because she was looking at me. She smiles but she looks guilty and my heart thuds, louder than the crowd, ready to fall out of my chest as I fall back into his fans. I try to push away the ugly truth of it.

“So the working title is Speechless, but don’t hold me to it.” Harry says and I swear he’s looking right at me. My heart takes another beating as the name clicks, I didn’t know how much more my heart could take as it flutters along with the opening notes and into the chorus

Mouth open, shut, she’s speechless. Heart open, shut, I’m speechless.

I listen to his lyrics. They’re about me. About a strong woman who he left speechless, that being the only power he had over her. Because I might love her but she didn’t love me, she gave herself to another and left me lonely.

Harry was with Alyssa, I remind myself. Alyssa might be...cheating on Harry? But they were still together. Harry and Alyssa. Together.

So why was he performing this, in front of me?

***

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Jess asks me, as they order food from a stand. I couldn’t think about eating, I make an excuse that I was staying hydrated. Harry told us about a private area we could meet him, he’d told security we were coming so we were just getting a bite to take to him. I wasn’t sure what I would do when we got to him.

He’s a sweaty happy mess when we do, listening to everyone’s praises with a big grin, laughing and acting shy as we all hug him. This was his first festival!

“How did you like the new song?” Harry asks, his eyes lingering on mine.

“I was speechless,” Jack jokes.

“I’m curious who the inspiration was,” Alyssa teases Harry, I try not to act as flustered.

“Someone long ago,” Harry winks and they pretend to be scandalized.

“I’m starving,” Jess lifts her container. “I’m finding a place to sit.”

Alyssa and her head to an empty spot while the three of us head to the water station first.

“So when are you going to do it?” I hear Jack asking Harry as I fill my bottle.

“Do what?” I ask, looking from Jack to Harry.

“Uhm, I was going to-I was thinking today was a good time to finally-“

“He’s bloody proprosing to Alyssa!” Jack whispers to me. If I thought the song or Alyssa’s texts were going to end me, I was wrong. This was worse. It felt like a trainwreck I could only watch, and not stop. This was going to end horribly, and Harry. Harry...I didn’t want him to end up in a relationship like mine. I had to stop it somehow.

“Y/N?” Jack waves his hand in front of my face.

“Woah!” I try to cover up. “I was waiting for the punchline! Harry, really? You’re ready to-to commit?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugs. “I think it’s time.”

“Have you guys talked about it?” I ask curiously.

“A couple times. But I know it’s the right time.”

“I asked Jess to marry me before we talked about it,” Jack says, and I know he’s eyeing me suspiciously. He knew me too well. “And look at us now.”

“You and Jess are a golden exception Jack,” I roll my eyes. “I just want to make sure Harry isn’t springing it unexpected.”

Jack’s phone rings-Jess wondering what was taking us so long and asking if he could get her another drink. That leaves Harry and me walking back together alone and the guilt of knowing his girlfriend may be cheating on him eats me up so I burst after we walk in silence.

“Harry, I don’t think you should do it.”

“What?” Harry heard me but he looks confused. “Why would you say that?”

“I just...I can’t...I can’t say. Just trust me.” I didn’t want to be the one to break it to him. But I didn’t want him to fuck his life up either.

“Trust you? Give me something to trust Y/N! Why wouldn’t I propose to the woman I love?”

Ouch. “Just trust me Harry please,” I stop and grab his arm. “I never interfere with your love life unlike you do with mine, but I just think you should wait. Talk to her about it first. I don’t want you to make a mistake.”

Harry scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about Y/N.”

“What?” Now it was my turn to be confused.

“I know we’ve had a history, and you’ve been out of a relationship for a while. But that song was one I wrote years ago, when you were still with Nate. I was in love with you then-not-not now. I love Alyssa, not you.”

My jaw drops, that was not what I meant but Harry’s bluntness is misdirected, his old mean streak coming out. I wanted to tell him what I saw on her phone even more than before, how did he think I was that...jealous that I would stop him because I wanted him?

“What the fuck!” I finally sputter out after Harry turns to continue walking. “D-do you really-who do you think you are? Who do you think I am? You really think I’m petty enough to try to stop you because I think we belong together or some-you’re a self-centered dick, Harry! I’m just looking out for you!”

“I don’t want you to! I never asked you to!” Harry shouts back. “I don’t need you in my life Y/N! I don’t need your judgements or your advice. I want nothing from you. Unlike you, I have a healthy relationship with an amazing woman and I plan on bloody marrying her whether you want me to or not!”

“I-“ his words sting the back of my eyes and the lump in my throat feels like a tennis ball lodged too tight. I don’t need you in my life. He was right, we weren’t as close ever since he got together with Alyssa...we only ever hung out because of Jack. Harry moved on from me. “You know what, whatever. I cared about you as a friend Harry, that’s why I look out for you. Maybe you should ask yourself why your performed that song in the first place if you love Alyssa so much. But whatever. If I’m nothing to you, do whatever-just do whatever you want. I’m going to find Jack.”

I force my wobbling legs to turn around and go in the direction that Jack left. I find him just as he pays for his drinks and when he sees me he knows something’s wrong but I deny it until he gives up. I claim I felt sick, to let the group know. I let myself cry when I reach my car, not knowing Harry was proposing at the exact same moment.

June 21, One Year Ago

Harry: “Have you spoken to Y/N recently?” Jack asks me over the phone. I could hear Jack’s kid crying in the background, his daughter born in April-who they also named April.

“Not since your baby shower,” I reply. “You know we don’t talk anymore. After I fucked it all up.”

“I thought you patched things up at the baby shower?” Jack asks.

“I tried but Alyssa was there and I was distracted. She was just polite. I think I ruined anything between us for good.” And I felt like an idiot. After the whole disaster between Y/N and I at the festival, what was supposed to be the happiest day turned into the worst when I got back home.

Alyssa confessed to me that night she’d said yes because we were in front of all our friends but she couldn’t marry me. She’d met someone else, nothing actually happened between them but she couldn’t marry me. And it tore me apart. I finally understood why Y/N was trying to stop me, she must’ve known somehow.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realised how hard I was trying to force Alyssa to be my perfect girl. She wasn’t. I could never let go around her, always had to make sure I didn’t offend her. She never wanted kids, one day I did. I wasn’t enough for her, I forced her to be enough for me.

But at the time, I was heartbroken. I drank myself into blackouts and missed so many important meetings. I lost an album deal and set my bloody career back. I lost the only girl who maybe was enough for me, told her she was nothing to me. And I only apologised to her a few months ago. By then, it seemed like she moved on.

“Mate, what the hell are you doing feeling sorry for yourself and not trying harder for her? She doesn’t have a boyfriend, she’s still in love with you-“

“How do you know?” I demand. “She treated me like she was forced to talk to me. She’s over me. We were over before we had any chance!”

“Whenever I bring you up, she flinches Harry. She’s still hurt by what you said, that means she’s not over you. Just talk to her.”

“Is that Harry? Tell him I’ll put these babies down and kick his arse if he doesn’t go after Y/N! Did you see her last time she came over for dinner...” Jess in the background interrupts the conversation. Maybe the worst part of all this was I did give up on Y/N. I was embarassed that she knew about Alyssa and me before I did. And I’d said such stupid things to her. I didn’t think I was redeemable.

Y/N: I check my hair in the mirror one last time before I grab my purse. I was meeting Jack and Jess at a nearby restaurant for dinner, ever since they had their baby in April I had only seen them once. They’d secured a babysitter-Jack’s sister-and we were all planning on just catching up.

On the tube ride there, I can’t help but think about Harry. Usually dinners with J&J meant Harry was there too but ever since the festival, his proposal...the four of us hadn’t hung out. We talked for a bit at Jack’s baby shower, I had tried to act like I moved on and was doing really well. I don’t know if he bought it. Alyssa was there with her new boyfriend and she seemed happier than ever, I noticed how Harry kept looking at her. That had done it for me, he was still hung up over her. Even though Jack told me he was in a bad place after the breakup but better now, it was right before me. And I was done reading in between the lines with Harry.

I get to the restaurant just as Jack’s pulling out Jess’ chair. It was a fanicier restaurant, our table in the middle of the space. Jess springs back up to give me a tight squeeze and we settle in but I notice they glance at each other frequently.

“Is something the matter?” I ask after the fifth time.

“No? Why?” Jack looks at Jess again and I point it out.

“There! Why do you keep looking at each other?”

Jack and Jess’s gaze moves above my shoulders and I feel a presence behind me. I turn around and Harry stares back just as shocked.

“You guys bloody did not,” I stand up and face them. “Is this just an elaborate hoax to get me to talk to him?”

“I didn’t know anything about this,” Harry raises his hands in defence. But he still moves towards the empty seat. Like he was okay with this.

“We didn’t mean to parent trap you two but...” Jess looks to Jack.

“You have a lot to talk about. We hate having to see you guys separately, we miss the gang. Just have one dinner that’s all.”

I want to whip my glass across the wall, I was angrier than I should be. But it wasn’t like they didn’t mean well. So I drop into my seat like a child after a temper tauntrum and glare at Harry. I ignore him up until we order when Jack gets a “text” from his sister about an emergency and just like that, they rush off and leave Harry and I alone.

“We haven’t even ordered yet,” I say. “We could just call it a night ourselves.”

“J&J went through all this to get us to dinner, we could just...have dinner.” Harry looks at me from his menu. It’s like my life had come full circle, Jack setting me up to have dinner with Harry. Except this time, it’s Jack and his wife and I already know Harry would just be a waste of my time.

“You’d like that,” I mutter as I stare at the words without reading them.

“What?” Harry leans in. “Are you talking shite under your breath?”

My brows shoot up, taken aback by Harry’s abrasiveness. I hadn’t seen this side to Harry in a while. “What if I am?”

“I’d like to know what you’re saying,” Harry moves to the seat next to me. “Lay it on me.”

I stare at Harry’s strange behaviour, glance at his glass but it’s untouched.

“This dinner?” I stare him square in the eye.” “Really for your benefit. Jack probably pitied you and decided to try to rekindle the flame he lit in the first place, I don’t bloody care to be here. I’m fine if you’re not in my life.”

“Who said I want this?” Harry asks. “I’m fine if you’re not in my life.”

Even though I’d just said those words to him, when he says them back they sting a little. And it must’ve shown in my face because Harry backs down a little. He reaches for his glass and takes the first sip. The waiter takes our order and I’m left staring at Harry’s side profile as he burns a hole into his glass. I open my mouth to talk but he speaks first.

“I’m sorry for being so horrible to you. All these years, not just at the festival.” Harry finally makes eye contact and it’s my turn to look away. He waits for me to say something and when I don’t he speaks again. “You don’t have to forgive me, I understand if you don’t. But I did lie right now, I wouldn’t be fine if you weren’t in my life. I haven’t been fine. I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry.”

Tears spring up and I hate them. But remembering Harry’s words from that day, how often I did recall them. And I think he’s done but he continues:

“I really thought I had it all figured out with Alyssa. When I think about it now I know we would never have lasted. I don’t know how you knew she...but she couldn’t...it just wasn’t meant to be. With her and me. And I wish I believed I wasn’t such a dick that day. I think I was just scared what losing her would mean. So I lost you instead.”

I would never admit it, but life was a little less dull without Harry. I missed when we hung out with J&J, the four of us had fun. But I didn’t want my life to be a pattern of crawling back to any man I had history with.

“Thank you for apologising,” I say formally, it was the only way I wouldn’t cry. “But I don’t think we can be friends again.” It’s too painful, too much had happened between us.

Harry doesn’t speak for a while, I thought he wasn’t going to until he does: “Okay, if that’s what you want.” I see him lean back in the chair from the corner of my eyes. He pinches his nose and sighs, “I’ll respect your...what you want.”

It’s awkwardly silent between us as we wait for dinner. Jack texts me just as it arrives and I check it discreetly.

I’m sorryyyy!! False alarm but we decided to take the babies home. Give him a chance Y/N, he’s always asking about you. Don’t shut him out!!!! Xxx

I want to facetime Jack just to flip him off but I turn my phone over and focus on swallowing my food without throwing up.

“So,” Harry starts. “Since we’re havig dinner we should talk.”

“What do you want to talk about?” I decided to stay polite.

Harry looks intensely at me, “What you’ve been up to? Unless you don’t want to get...personal.”

I shrug. “I haven’t had much of a life outside of work. But I booked a month off next month, I’m visiting some American friends.”

“Oh? Where are they located?”

“Some in New York City, LA, Seattle, and one in Chicago.”

“You’re going to visit all of them?” Harry sounds surprised.

“Yep,” the excitement for the trip flares up again and I can’t help but grin. “New York first, then make my way to Chicago and then Seattle. But the most exciting part is I’m going to drive down to LA after that-“

“Alone? That’s cool!” Harry joins in on my excitement.

“Right?! I just needed...” I sputter out as I remember it was Harry I was talking to. But then, I say screw it. “I just feel like the last few years with Nate and stuff, I needed an adventure. To just go out and explore.”

“I think that sounds perfect.” Harry smiles and he looks genuinely happy for me. The way he looks at me, I feel flushed as I concentrare on my food and throw the question back at him.

“Catching up on studio time,” he says. “I missed out on a lot after...Alyssa and I split. I’m going on tour in a month.”

“Local tour?” I ask.

“America, actually.” Harry says and I raise my eyebrow.

“Maybe we’ll bump into each other,” I say without thinking. We pause as we stare at each other. I break eye contact.

“It’s a big country,” Harry says. “But if we’re destined to meet...I’d like that.”

We talk some more, Harry telling me his plan for his new album and accepting my crticism. We decide to skip dessert, I claim I was getting tired but the night was just growing heavy. I missed Harry like you miss a childhood friend. It felt like we might have outgrown each other, I wanted things to go back to simpler times, but it was so easy to fall back into a familiar pattern when we were together. It was confusing and upsetting.

Instead of an Uber this time, Harry had driven himself and he offers to drop me off. He was passing me on his way home apparently.

The ride is silent, but not awkward. An unspoken agreement to just exist beside each other and not force a conversation. As we near my flat, his song comes on. He goes to change it but I swat his hand away and turn the volume up. I catch him glancing at me but I turn my head out my window and let Speechless wash over me. The only song anyone’s ever written for me.

Before I leave, I turn to him, the goodbye a painful one. “Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight,” he watches me with sorrow and it makes me pause as I hop out.

“I had a nice dinner even though we were parent trapped together.”

He laughs, relief coating his features. “Me too, it wasn’t as painful as you looked when you first spotted me. I thought you were going to run out of that place.”

“I was not,” I laugh. I decide to lean back in the car and peck his cheek goodbye. “I’m really proud of you Harry. You’re definitely going places.”

He smiles, but his eyes give away the truth behind what he was thinking. It was a thought I couldn’t entertain.

I wish him goodnight again and head to my doors, making sure I didn’t turn around. I wasn’t sure I would have the strength to walk away if I did.

I drop my keys by my door and head to my room, shedding the day as I step out of my oufit and into my sweatpants. My tickets to JFK in two and a half weeks greet me as I open my freezer for ice cream, I might have refused dessert tonight but my heart needed the sweet relief that I was going to be okay. In under three weeks I was going to be halfway across the world tasting freedom and a new adventure! I couldn’t wait. As I dream about what was waiting for me, I begin to think I really was going to be okay.

#harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles #fic #yearly #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #this took so long because I kept changing things #but it WILL be okay #😌#and if there are any mistakes or plotholes #i've been staring at this for so long #it really doesn't matter anymore

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