#and i got a brief on Wednesday and i was off on Friday. so you know. I'm not taking this one on 100%

[fkinkindagauche]

The Most Gourd-geous Pumpkin in the Patch

I did, in fact, start a fic based on this Wiggly Wednesday. The first chapter is up on AO3 - read it here, tags/content warnings over there. Brief description - No Upside Down Omegaverse AU, explicit, Steve and Eddie meet in their mid-to-late thirties over some pumpkins.

Here's a little excerpt.

“Hello?” a man’s voice said. Steve could hear loud music playing in the background. 

“Um, hi,” Steve said. He hadn’t prepared a spiel like he usually did when calling someone, and he froze. Amos meowed loudly.

“Are you a cat?” the man asked, laughter in his voice. “Is a cat calling me? This is wild.”

“N-no,” Steve stammered. “I mean, yes, there is a cat here, but there’s also a person. Me. Steve.”

“Ooooh,” the man said. “The plot thickens. A Steve and a cat. What’s the cat’s name?”

“Amos,” Steve replied automatically. How had this conversation gone off the rails so quickly? Amos lifted up his head at the sound of his name and meowed again.

“Anus? You named your cat anus?” the man asked, incredulous.

Steve rolled his eyes. He hadn’t anticipated how common this response would be when he chose Amos’s name, but a surprising number of people did mishear it as “anus”. “No, no. Amos. With an M as in major. Amos, like the Famous Amos cookies. Or the minor prophet in the Old Testament.”

“That makes a lot more sense,” the man said. “So, Steve and minor prophet slash cookie cat, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” 

“Um. I got a card. In my door today. From Munson’s Curiosities. About selling pumpkins.”

“You’re the pumpkin magician!” 

“Well, I don’t know about that. It’s my first time growing them.”

“Even more magical. Those have got to be the most perfect pumpkins I’ve ever seen.”

Steve felt himself blushing. Over praise of his pumpkins. What was going on? “Um, thanks?” he said. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure what you meant, by your message. Did you want to buy my pumpkins, or did you want to sell me some pumpkins?”

“Why would I need to sell you pumpkins when you’re a pumpkin magician?” the man asked. 

“The lack of punctuation on the note made the situation unclear,” Steve explained. 

“Well I feel like the context clues made it very clear,” the man interjected, though he just sounded amused, not annoyed.

“What do you want the pumpkins for?” Steve asked. 

“Need to make sure they’re going to a good home? I get it. I’m doing this Halloween-themed event in a few weeks, and I just thought they would be perfect for decorating.” 

“Hmm. Alright. You can have six,” Steve said. 

“Awesome!” the man replied, seeming genuinely enthused. “How much do you want for them?” 

“Oh, you don’t need to pay me,” Steve said awkwardly. “I just grew them for fun, and wasn’t expecting them to all survive. I don’t actually need eight pumpkins.”

“Let me at least buy you a drink or something, man.” 

Steve thought about it for a second. Did he really want to agree to getting a drink with this rather unconventional stranger? He had grown more introverted in recent years, and generally avoided potentially awkward social situations, preferring to stick with people he knew well. But he had actually been enjoying this odd conversation. “Alright, fine. I can bring the pumpkins with me, and we can meet somewhere for a drink.”

“Fantastic! You doing anything Friday night?” 

“No,” Steve was slightly embarrassed to admit. “I’m free.”

“Great. Meet me at Bobby’s at 8? I have a lot of hair, I’m hard to miss.”

Steve laughed. “Alright. Wait, what’s your name? I never asked.”

“Eddie,” the man said. “Eddie Munson.” Again, Steve felt a vague sense of recognition, like he’d heard the name before, but he couldn’t quite place where.

[thedreadvampy]

god fucking damnit once again I have been asking for necessary information for WEEKS and now we've missed deadline and everyones mad at me bc stuff has to go to the printer without management feeding in and they're like WHY HAVEN'T I SEEN THIS BEFORE and I'm like BECAUSE IT'S EXISTED FOR HALF AN HOUR BECAUSE NOBODY TAKES MY WARNINGS ABOUT DEADLINES SERIOUSLY UNTIL AFTER THEY'VE PASSED.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professor Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

A/N: This one's a doozy, don't know how I feel about most of Logan's dialogue in this one but oh well! Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Awkwardness ensues when you arrive at Logan's class on Friday, finding no one there but him.

Warnings: 18+, mindors DNI!!!!, drinking, reader getting drunk, puking, swearing, light depiction of anxiety disorder, sexual harassment (nothing bad happens to reader, light harassment only)

Word Count: 4,712

Chapter 3

This is the fourth night this week you’ve masturbated to the thought of your professor. Unfortunately, your fingers don’t offer the same release that you’ve been seeking from Logan. Instead of relieving the pressure that spreads through your body, your orgasms leave you dissatisfied and in need of more relief. But you can’t. He’s your professor, and downright terrifying to speak to. He makes every hair on your body stand on end, like your body is in a constant state of flight or fuck. Plus, you’re pretty sure he hates you. He stares at you, makes rude remarks, and barely even pays you any mind. But, goddamnit, sometimes you swear his lips curl into somewhat of a smile when he sees you. And you haven’t seen him smile at much of anything. But you cannot misconstrue tolerance with infatuation. He just might hate you less than everyone else, which could be enough for you to get through the semester without anymore anxiety than you already have.

You turn over in bed with a huff and glare at the clock. 2:14 am. If only you spent as much time studying as you did masturbating, maybe you’d get your masters a year earlier. You almost fear going to sleep. Afraid that another dream will leave you hot and bothered in Logan’s class tomorrow, and you don’t like that he has that effect on you. You repeat a mantra as you doze off, I do not want to fuck Logan Howlett.

…

It’s been a good morning. You woke up, no explicit wet dream, with enough time to manifest a Colombian dark roast and one of the best breakfasts you’ve had in a while; which you enjoyed while watching the sunrise from your roof. For a brief moment, you considered flying to class. The weather was perfect, making you long for a place you could traverse the sky in peace without a worry of who might see you. You often find yourself dreaming of such a life. How freeing would it be to fly around the world, helping people in need, exploring areas unknown? As much as you daydream of this life, you still know deep down that your dream can never become a reality. No, every day you hear of someone else being killed just because they’re a mutant. Or others disappearing off the streets and thrown into secret government labs where they conduct god knows what kinds of tests on them. That’s not a reality you ever want to face. You don’t want to think about how the government might exploit your powers. The thought of them abusing the atomic structures you manifest to create weapons of mass destruction makes you sick. No matter how desperately you wish you could display your strengths for good, you can’t. And that breaks your heart.

Despite the unfortunate stifling of your powers, your morning still ends up going just as well as it started. You’ve timed your commute perfectly; slipping into your favorite parking spot with just enough time to walk to class, Colombian dark roast in hand. You open the door to Logan’s class, quickly stopping dead in your tracks once you see that not a single one of your classmates are here yet. You check the time on your phone, there’s only 3 minutes until class starts.

“I was beginning to think it was something I said,” Logan’s voice calls from the front of the room, his broad frame leaning against the white board., “Did everyone tell ‘ya to skip?”

You chuckle softly, “No, Logan, I think it was actually something you said.” He furrows his brow, you clarify, “Wednesday when you left class you sorta said ‘see ‘ya Monday.’ So I think people just got confused.”

“Huh, and I guess you’re here…” he trails off, wanting you to explain.

“The convenience store. You said you’d see me on Friday, so, I just assumed you misspoke the other day,” you conclude, your fingers fiddling with the lid on your thermos. He just stares at you for a beat, making your anxiety swell in your throat. Is he mad at me? I think he’s mad at me, you think to yourself, “Not that you messed up or anything! It’s definitely everyone else’s fault for not following up with you, or whatever.”

“Right,” he says, giving you an incredulous look. You definitely weirded him out. The way he’s looking at you makes your breath hitch, and not in a good way.

“Anyway,” you continued, setting your coffee on a nearby desk, attempting to drive the topic of conversation elsewhere, “I might as well give you this.”

You approach Logan slowly as you rifle through your shoulder bag in search of your essay. Your fingers anxiously fumble between each folder and binder in your bag, incapable of grasping anything. You halt your approach, digging deeper in your bag to find the folder containing your essay. Jesus Christ where the hell is it. You’ve been searching for hours, has it been hours? Or 15 seconds? You cannot tell because time has halted right here. Blue folder, blue folder, blue folder, you repeat to yourself, hoping your thoughts do something to pop the folder in your face. Finally, after years of searching, you’ve found it. You pull it out of your bag with a breath of relief, stepping forward as you intend to hand it to Logan. A gasp escapes your lips when you slam straight into Logan’s tall frame, stumbling backwards, nearly falling until hands grasp your waist and keep you upright.

“You alright?” Logan asks, his hands remaining fixed on your waist. You look up at him through your long eyelashes, your hands planted flat on his chest for support.  You cannot help the fluttering in your heart at your proximity to him, feeling your arousal swirling inside you at the feel of his strong hands holding you tightly. Logan stares at you from above, breathing heavily through his nose; his sharp, repetitive inhales almost sounding like a dog sniffing the air. You struggle to form a coherent thought, the only thing flooding your senses is the smell of Tobacco and pine emanating from Logan. Only a few seconds have passed, but as far as you know time doesn’t exist anymore. Logan loosens his grip on your sides, smoothing your jacket down with his hands before letting you go. You clear your throat, trying to shake the impure thoughts that are swarming your mind.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you exhale, handing him the folder, “Um, my essay. Here you go.”

“Right, thanks,” he smirks as he takes it from you, “Don’t suppose you want to be the only one hearing my lecture today.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you affirm eagerly, watching Logan’s smile dissipate into a pursed line. He was joking, oh my god. Kill me. “Oh! You were kidding! No, I’d much rather be home right now. Definitely do not want to be here…with you.” Your words grew quiet towards the end, unsure if your recovery was even remotely smooth at all. If you could even call that a recovery.

“Oh, so you don’t want to be here with me?” he questions, his arms crossing over his stiff chest.

“No! No, no, of course I do, you’re lovely, I mean, not—I don’t hate you is what I’m saying. You’re lovely, as far as professors go,” you stutter, a clammy layer of sweat forming on the palms of your hands. He’s silent, his eyes burning a hole into your soul. Surely, he’s mad at you, “I would so love to sit and listen to you lecture, if you want, totally up to you. I’ll be here taking notes and listening if—“

Logan calls your name with a chuckle, interjecting your ramblings and bringing them to a halt.

“I’m just messing with ‘ya, bub,” he assures with a self-satisfied smile, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You can tell he gets a lot of enjoyment out of making you uncomfortable, giving himself personal satisfaction every time you squirm under his gaze.

“Oh,” you mutter dejectedly, your face blushing red from embarrassment, “right, well, you sure got me.” You attempt a laugh to hide your anxiety. Fiddling with the strap of your bag, you try to focus on anything else than the tears of embarrassment that prick the corners of your eyes. You hate this feeling, someone making a fool of you just because of your gentle, people-pleasing demeanor. It makes you feel weak, even though you physically aren’t, but no one knows that. They just see a meek, quiet girl that they can walk all over and take advantage of.

“Shit, are you okay?” Logan asks, a surprising level of concern in his voice. His knees dip slightly, craning his neck to your level to try and meet you face to face. You keep your eyes to the ground, not wanting to embarrass yourself further by crying in front of your professor just because he teased you a little bit. You’re surprised to feel fingers grasp your chin, gasping as Logan lifts it to so you’ll meet his eyes. Tears haven’t fallen down your cheeks yet, but you’re sure you look embarrassing; flushed cheeks, watery eyes, parted lips inhaling air shallowly. Logan looks concerned, which surprises you. It seems out of character for him, considering he only speaks to cuss someone out.

“You look like you need a drink,” Logan says, not a hint of humor in his face, fully meaning this seriously and earnestly. Like it could solve all of your problems.

“I can’t drink I have class,” you whimper, slightly confused.

“Not now, later, here—you got a paper? Pen?” he asks as he drops his hold on your chin, holding his hand out while he waits for you to hand him what he’s asking for.

You nod, shuffling through your bag for a notebook and pen, retrieving it and handing it to him with a sniffle. He starts scribbling something on an empty page.

“9 o’clock,” he hands you the paper, an address is written on it, “go there, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you declined politely.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m asking you,” he corrects, a firm tone in his voice making you nervous to say no. It’s almost as if he isn’t asking, merely telling you what you’re supposed to do, but disguising it as an ask to seem less brute.

“Okay, 9 o’clock,” you conclude, nodding your head in agreement.

…

What the hell are you doing here? This is inappropriate. This breaks multiple codes of conduct. But free booze? Who are you to decline an offer like that. The outside of the establishment is like any other mountain-town, backwoods, rural dive bar. It honestly wasn’t too far from where you live either, maybe you ought to give this place a visit more often. You step out of your car and approach the front door, lit with a neon red “open” sign flickering in and out of consciousness. The door jingles and creaks when you open it, causing a few of the patrons to turn their heads towards you before promptly returning back to their drinks and games of pool. The air smells of stale cigarettes and salt, rock music droning through a busted jukebox in the corner. Straight ahead, you see the bar, lit dimly by more neon signs and faulty overhead bulbs. A familiar figure is already there, Logan’s flannel-covered back is to you, hunched over what you can assume to be a drink he’s been nursing. You approach the bar-seat next to him, pulling it out with a sharp scratch to the ground, causing Logan to turn his head in your direction. Before you can even mutter a greeting, the bartender has already intercepted your attention.

“What can I get you?” he asks, scratching at his scraggly beard, a rag draped over his thin, tattooed shoulder.

“Um, Woodford and coke?” you ask as you get comfortable on your stool. The bartender laughs at your request.

“This ain’t that kind of place, missy,” he quips, you try and look at Logan for support but he’s focused on his beer, “I got Maker’s, Jim Beam, and Jack, what’ll it be?”

“Maker’s, I guess,” you concede, watching as the bartender walks down the bar to make your drink.

“Bourbon girl, eh?” Logan remarks, adjusting in his seat to face you.

“Um, yeah, I don’t like much clear liquor,” you say, trying your best to avoid eye contact, “or, it doesn’t like me at least. Some of my worst nights started with a bottle of vodka.”

Logan laughs, catching you off guard, you laugh lightly with him. The bartender sets your drink in front of you, you thank him with a smile.

“Open or closed?” the bartender asks, but before you can even think of a response, Logan answers for you.

“Put her on mine, Jim,” Logan says.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—“

Logan gives the bartender a stern look, and he walks away, no contest.

“Thank you,” you grin, taking a sip from your glass.

“Don’t mention it,” he waves off, the same warning in his voice as last time. There’s a beat of awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say, or why he even asked you here.

“I um—“ you pause, trying to find the right words, “I appreciate you going out of your way to try and make me feel better about earlier.”

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he corrects, turning back towards the bar, his body now parallel with yours, “this is usually where you can find me this time of day.”

“Oh, well, thanks for inviting me, I guess,” you correct your previous statement. You purse your lips, wanting to explain your behavior earlier. But you’re not sure if that’s appropriate, you feel bad that he had to take pity on you just because you got choked up from him making fun of you. “Look, I at least want to apologize for the way I acted earlier and—“

“Save it,” he interjects with a raise of his hand.

“I’m…sorry I—“ you stutter, trying yet again to apologize for your presence, causing Logan to cut you off with a wave of his hand again.

“You don’t need to keep doing that. Have your drink. Relax. I’m not pissed at you,” Logan reassures, his voice stern. You’re convinced that his voice doesn’t fluctuate from that kind of tone too often. But despite the sternness of his voice, you feel your shoulders relax. You’re holding his gaze but you don’t feel like you’re about to combust. You feel…fine. You feel just fine.

“Huh,” you mutter, a curious tinge to your voice. Relax. Have your drink. You ponder the glass for a moment, considering it. Fuck it. You raise it to your lips and chug, swallowing every burn the Maker’s leaves down your throat without a care. Logan’s brows raise at your sudden gratuitous impulse.

“Okay then,” he remarks with a grin.

A buzz floats around your head, your chest heaves from your uninterrupted drinking.

“Rick!” you call, attempting to get the attention of the bartender.

“Jim,” Logan corrects you quietly, smiling in amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Jim! Can I have another?”

…

You’re four bourbon and coke’s into your evening, and you cannot recall the last time you had this much fun. You beat Logan twice at pool and watched him take fruity, girly shooters for each loss, per your request. Currently, you’re in the middle of another game, a tied score bringing out your competitive edge. Logan’s frame is bent over the pool table, lining up the perfect shot. You chew on the straw in your drink as you unabashedly ogle his ass. Damn, he looks good in those jeans. He makes his shot, the cue ball ricocheting off of the edge and barely skimming the 8 ball he was trying to get in.

“Damn it,” he grunts, turning away from the table, his chest rising and falling in frustration. You giggle in excitement, ready to take your turn.

“Jim! I’d get started on that lemon drop if I were you!” you call, your voice slurring slightly as you’re ready to claim your victory over your professor.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bub,” Logan warns, clearly a bit more annoyed at the fact he’s losing than he’s letting on.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, baby,” you counter, a teasing, almost sultry edge to your voice. Logan holds his eyes on you, watching as you bend over the pool table to make your shot. You close one eye, carefully trying to line up the cue ball in the direction you want to go. The ball is towards the center of the table, but you’re so sure that you can manage on your own, balancing on your tip-toes.

“Need a hand?” Logan asks, trying his best to hide his amusement at the precarious position you’ve put yourself in.

“Shh!” you snap, “I’m concentrating! 8 ball, corner pocket.” You make your shot, but your feet slip out from under you with the momentum you built. You almost crumble to the floor, but Logan’s hands catch you around your ribcage first. He lifts you onto your feet, but in your buzzed state you’re having a hard time maintaining balance.

“Easy there,” Logan drawls, keeping his hands so temptingly close to the side of your breasts. You’re jelly in his hands, letting him take hold of you in whatever way he wants. You could spin around and make out with him right here, which you honestly consider for a moment. But before you can, Logan leans his face close to your ear, his beard tickling your cheek.

“Looks like you scratched,” he whispers, his gravelly voice reverberating around your skull. Any other day, this would make you wet immediately, but the competitive monster inside of you is awoken. You shake your head in disbelief, turning your focus back to the pool table. There’s no sight of the white cue ball anywhere. You suddenly find your balance, scrambling out of Logan’s grasp to search for what pocket the ball got shot into. ‘Lo and behold, it made it into the corner pocket you were aiming for.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, stomping your foot in frustration, gripping the table with white knuckles.

“I told you not to get ahead of yourself,” Logan taunts, one hand planted on the pool table, the other on his hip. You scowl at him, trying to find a clever comeback, but your liquor soaked brain is coming up dry. The sound of your name turns your attention towards the bar.

“I got ‘yer lemon drop right here,” Jim calls, setting the sugar rimmed shooter on the edge of the bar closest to you.

“Get her a shot of Tito’s to wash that down with, will ‘ya, Jim?” Logan chimes, maintaining eye contact with you. Your jaw drops in shock at the deliberateness of his actions. The nerve.

“Are you trying to get me to be more sloppy just so you can beat me again?” you question, your eyes narrowing as you cross towards him. You stand just a few inches in front of him, squaring up to him with a challenging look in your eyes.

“I think you’re doing a good enough job at being sloppy by yourself,” he teases, eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes as you brush past him and towards the bar to retrieve your punishment. Lemon drop in one hand, Tito’s in the other.

“Bottoms up,” you chime, maintaining eye contact with Logan as you lick the sugar off the rim of your glass, taking the shooter down with one swift gulp. You wince slightly, before humming in satisfaction, the sweetness masking the vodka just enough. You exhale in preparation for your next drink, closing your eyes and willing yourself to not think too hard about what you’re going to inevitably do to yourself. A single lemon drop is not enough to make you blackout and puke all over your house, but another shot of vodka on top of that might just put you on that track. Swallowing your hesitance, you bring the glass to your lips and choke it down in one gulp. Frowning at the way it burns your throat, sending tingles down your spine.

“Oh, wow,”  you grunt, your face twisted into a pained expression. “Okay, fuck you, m’gonna win this next one.”

Logan snorts at your drunken confidence, already anticipating what might happen next.

You did not, in fact, win the next one.

Logan cockily slams a shot glass of clear liquid in front of you, causing your jaw to drop in surprise.

“Thisn’t fair,” you pout, leaning against the pool table for support.

“I choked down 2 lemon drops because of you, the least you can do is take this shot of tequila, princess,” Logan counters, offering you a slice of lime and a flimsy packet of salt.

“Bitch, this’s tequila?!” you exclaim, too drunk to even comprehend the fact that he just called you princess.

“Bottoms up,” he says teasingly, pushing the glass towards you, clearly quoting you from when you were more confident earlier. “Unless you’re feeling like chickening out on me.”

“No! I jus’ don’ wan’ get too drunk before our nex’ game,” you slur, almost tripping over yourself. Logan sighs, considering your drunken state for a moment.

“Tell you what,” he starts, “I’ll do half this shot with you if you quit your whinin’, got it?” You nod eagerly, accepting his proposal. With your confirmation, Logan takes the lime in his mouth and bites it in half, giving you part of it. You secretly wish he gave you the half that was in his mouth. He rips the salt packet open, and you watch earnestly as his tongue swipe along the back of his hand before he pores some of the salt on it. You follow suit, wetting the back of your hand with your tongue and allowing Logan to pour a bit of the salt on it. Logan goes first, licking the salt up, swallowing half the shot down, and finishing it off with a bite of the lime. You try and stifle a gag when you look at the glass of clear liquid. You sigh, closing your eyes tight as you lick the salt off the back of your hand, choke down the tequila in one gulp, hoping the squirt of lime juice in your mouth will save you. It does not. Your throat burns and you involuntarily shiver at the contact of the liquor on your tastebuds.

“I’m gonna get these back to Jim,” he gestures to the stack of glasses that’s accumulated over the course of your games, “rack ‘em up for me, princess.” Logan nods to the pool balls, indicating for you to get another game started. You oblige, leaning over the table to retrieve the balls and placing them into the plastic triangle. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Assuming it’s Logan, you smile, craning your neck to get a view of him. You startle when you see a complete stranger pressing up against your rear. A yelp leaves your lips as you scramble up onto the table in an attempt to get away.

“Don’t be like that, baby, I was just saying hi,” the strangers gruff voice beckons to you from where your feet are hanging off the table. You scrunch your face in disgust. He has a long, unkempt beard with yellow teeth peeking out behind it. His hairline is thin and greyed, his figure broad and heavyset. He towers over you, making your stomach churn.

“No thanks,” you say, sternly, sobering up slightly in an act of self preservation. The stranger doesn’t let up, though. Still attempting to pull you towards him by grasping at your ankles. You don’t register anything else around you. Not Logan’s shouts from the other end of the bar, you don’t see him rushing towards the stranger either. Your preservation is the only thing on your mind.

“I said no, asshole!” you shout, reeling your legs back before kicking into his chest with as much force as you can muster, your abnormal strength sending him flying all the way into the back wall 10 feet away. He crashes against the wood paneling, leaving a dent in his wake, groaning and writhing in pain on the ground. Your adrenaline dissipates, allowing the realization of what you just did to really sink in. Someone of your size should not have been able to send someone like him flying in the way you did, and the way that Logan looks at you, indicates just that.

“…You okay?” Logan asks carefully, reaching towards you, helping you down off of the pool table. You tumble off the surface, allowing Logan to fully support your weight. “You, uh, seemed to have it pretty under control there.”

“I don’ skip leg day,” you slur, feeling your mouth suddenly fill with saliva, your natural instincts of self preservation just dissipated, and you now are feeling the full brunt of every sip of alcohol you had tonight. The blood drains from your face and a wave of nausea washes over you, “Logan, I think’m gonna—“

You can’t even finish your sentence before you hurl the upset of your stomach all over the floor in front of you, Logan just barely missing the line of fire.

“Shit,” Logan hisses, trying to support you as best as he can without getting your puke all over him, “Okay, let’s get you out of here before you kick someone else through a wall.”

You’d find that funny if you weren’t painfully nauseous right now. Logan slings your arm around his neck, you’re limp around him, like a rag doll. The next few hours are a blur. You’re delirious, incapable of forming a coherent thought. You might recall Logan asking for an address, or directions. But you don’t remember what you said, or if you even said anything in response through your drunken stupor. Which leads you here, hunched over the toilet in Logan’s bathroom, as he tries to shove croutons in your face in an attempt to soak up the liquor that’s strangling your stomach. You’re half awake, ready to fall over and sleep this off. So you do just that, fall over, that is. You’re snuggled into the shag rug on his bathroom floor, reveling in its softness. Oh, this is perfect. You think to yourself, dozing off already.

“C’mon, you can’t sleep on the floor,” Logan grunts, scooping you up off of the bath mat. An incoherent whine escapes your throat at your loss of comfort. You snuggle into his chest, seeking the same comfort you were just robbed of. Your body lowers onto something soft and plush. You sigh in approval, spreading your arms across the expanse of this luxuriously soft bed. Ready to get comfortable, you groan in indignance at the stuffiness of your jeans. You ungracefully unbutton and prod them down your legs, freeing your body from the stiff discomfort of the pants. You hear a throat clear, and feel the comforter get pulled out from under you and then promptly over you, cocooning you in a soft, pillowy heaven. The soft fabric feels so nice and cool against your bare legs, clad in nothing, save for your panties. You silently thank your sober self for wearing a tank top and no bra today, allowing for optimal sleepwear.

“There’s water for you here,” Logan tells you, gently, gesturing to what you think is the nightstand, but you can’t bear to look at it.

“Don’t puke on my bed,”Logan warns. The light gets turned off and you sigh at the peaceful nature of the space. You inhale, reveling in the scent of Logan that lingers on the bed.

“Hm, bed smells like you,” you hum in satisfaction, finally feeling your sleep begin to overtake you. There’s a beat of silence that hangs in the air.

“Night, princess.”

...

A/N: hehehehehehe😈😈😈😈 I hope y'all had as much fun reading the bar scene as I had writing it. I loved writing reader letting loose a bit and not being so anxious, hopefully she stays that way but you'll have to wait and see. I'm getting oral surgery tomorrow so I'm not sure when the next update will be. click here to view on ao3.

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 5

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversation, smut, oral, sex toys/strap ons, nothing too crazy this time, some minor kink talk

Over the course of the next week you noticed that Emily was slipping into her sugar mommy role quite well. An extra ten dollars in your Venmo for coffee and a pastry one day, a few good morning texts, wishing for you to have a good day, take out delivered to your office on the day you mentioned forgetting to grab your lunch. The meals or snacks seemed to be the biggest ones, she knew you worked insane hours and were likely working into the evenings most of the time as well, checking that you were still at the office before she would have something sent over.

You were in your office late Wednesday afternoon, finally finishing up the extra workload when there was a brief knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You called out, glancing up from your laptop to find Heather entering the office with a potted bouquet in her hands.

“Jaydyn dropped this off to my office this morning, I just got around to reading the card.” Placing it down on a side table she swiped the card, “and considering I’m the instigator, these are not for me.” She extended it out to you and you flipped it around.

‘St Regis. 8pm, Friday.                                E.’

“You better not be planning to keep me late Friday.” You commented, tucking the card into your agenda.

“What’re we going to do with her?” Heather asked with a huff, dropping into one of the chairs across from your desk and your brow furrowed.

“Emily?”

“No, Jaydyn.” She glanced toward you, “she’s messed up four times this week alone. Can you take care of her?”

“I’m not HR Heather…” you warned, “do it yourself.”

“If I sort it before Monday, you’re going to have to take on the press conference with Sharp.” She countered and you rolled your eyes, tossing an eraser in her direction.

“I’ll draw up the termination paperwork but that’s as far as I go.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, “I would certainly hate all the deliveries you’ve gotten to go to waste.”

You let out a soft sigh, glancing up to the flowers, “about that… I’m sorry. I’ll tell her not at work from now on.”

“Oh by all means don’t let me stop you. Just make sure to lock your door if you’re fucking in your office.”

“Heather!” You groaned, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Oh please.” She smirked, “so… how was it?”

“What?” You looked up from your laptop, turning your attention to the other woman.

“Sweetheart, you know I have a standing reservation at The Conrad.”

“Ohhh… that explains the bondage straps under the bed.” You teased, “and here I was thinking that was a progressive new amenity.”

“How was the date?”

“It was fine, good.”

“Fine? Come on, I’m trying to help you out here. What’s the issue? She’s got money, she’s gorgeous, I enjoy her company, and I don’t know why but there’s an air about her that says she’s fantastic in the bedroom and lord knows you’re pent up enough you need to get laid.”

“Gee… I wonder why that might be.” You replied dryly and she laughed.

“All I’m saying is I saw two of my friends struggling with the same issue and figured I should put them in contact.”

“You really should think about financing a sugar matchmaker.” You noted, “and the date was good. She got called into work, I think she’s out in Nevada right now chasing down some psychopath.”

“Shame.” She replied with a breath, standing from her chair, “I was hoping for the dirty details.” She shot you a wink before turning to head to the door.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, signed an NDA.” You lied, though you were quickly caught in it as she called over her shoulder.

“I know for a fact you didn’t, who do you think drew up her paperwork?”

“Fuck.” You muttered, letting out a huff of a laugh and shaking your head as the other woman left the room and you were finally able to return back to your work.

When Friday finally rolled around Heather was quick to kick you out of the office well before your usual finishing time, once again suggesting a few specific clothing options for you to wear that night. After showering you were flicking through your closet and realized she was right, pulling out a tighter plum cocktail dress to slip into. You poured a glass of wine while you redid your make up to help calm any last minute nerves and called an Uber shortly before eight o’clock.

The St Regis had a stunningly gorgeous lobby and even though the room was rather busy considering it was Friday, you spotted Emily fairly quickly. She was settled into one of the couches, very fitted dress pants and a stylish navy top, her hair loose around her shoulders. As you made your way over to her she glanced up, catching your eye as a smile crept onto her lips.

“You weren’t kidding about your punctuality.” She greeted, standing from the couch and you chuckled.

“Last I heard, it was incredibly rude to keep a gorgeous woman waiting.” You replied, stepping forward to kiss her cheek as she did the same to you. Her hand lingered on your side, sweeping across to your lower back as she fell in step beside you, nudging you in the direction of the restaurant.

“I’m glad I was on time then.” Emily half teased and you let out a small laugh.

“Even if I tried I couldn’t have been late, I’ve been thinking about this dinner all day.”

“You’re telling me.” She nearly groaned, “I’ve been surviving off shitty hotel room service and small town take out all week.”

“I’m going to assume that’s all very limited.”

“Egg bagels for breakfast, bologna sandwiches at the precinct and burgers every night. I am more than ready for a change.”

“It sounds like you definitely deserve the treat then.”

Emily’s hand slipped off your back as you approached the check in stand at Alhambra, giving the host a friendly greeting before they led you to your table. A cozy little corner of the restaurant, settled up against the window was the perfect place, just far enough away from the bulk of the crowd you wouldn’t have to worry about eavesdroppers. It didn’t take long to decide on a bottle of red to share and you settled in, exploring the menu while you caught up with each other after the long week.

There was a slight sense of eagerness mixed with a hint of nerves floating around the table, the desire to skip the meal entirely and head directly upstairs sitting in the back of your minds. That desire was nearly too strong and partially won when Emily suggested skipping straight to the entrée course and you were quick to agree that nothing on the appetizer menu was really jumping out to you. When your server came back to check on the table and pour out wine for the two of you, dinner was ordered, menus taken away and after a few sips of wine you could finally start to focus on each other.

“Thank you, for the flowers by the way.” You smiled softly over the rim of your glass, “they’re gorgeous.”

“I should have asked about sending them to your work.” She replied, an apology written across her face, “I didn’t realize until it was too late that I didn’t have your home address.”

“It’s fine.” You replied with a shrug and a grin, “besides, gives the office something to gossip about, right?”

“I guess that’s right.” She laughed softly, “I’m a little surprised I managed to not get called out for being on my phone so much this week.”

“You’re the boss,” you offered, “you’re probably on your phone all the time already. Nothing new for a team of profilers.”

“I guess. And I’m not complaining, there is something exciting about having a secret.”

“There most certainly is.” You replied, a near hungry look in your eye that made Emily’s pulse pick up, heat beginning to build through her body, “even more so when it’s a dirty secret.”

She cocked a brow in your direction, her voice lowering, “that so? Are you a dirty girl?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” You replied with a smirk, taking another sip of wine, “I can assure you; I’ll be good no matter what.”

“I would hate to have to punish you.” She fired back and you felt a tingle shoot through your body.

“Hmm.. part of me thinks you’d rather enjoy that.”

She took the chance to turn your own words back on you, “you’ll just have to wait and see about that.”

“Good thing I’m patient then.”

While the sentiment was normally true, it certainly wasn’t tonight. Luckily, Emily’s patience was also wearing thinner by the moment, neither of you finishing your meals and very quickly turning down the chance to even see a dessert menu.

By the time you got into the elevator your heart was racing, sparks flying through your body at the feeling of Emily’s fingertips drawing patterns on your back as she stepped impossibly close to you. You could feel the heat from her body wafting onto yours and your breath caught in your throat. The doors slid open, letting the other couple out before they slid shut again, leaving you alone and you could feel her breath on the back of your neck before she spoke.

“You are going to be a good girl for me, right?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, gulping at the feeling of her fingers tracing higher on your back, now tickling at your bare skin.

“Good.” She murmured, her fingers squeezing softly at the back of your neck before they slid into your hair, her free hand grasping your hip as she turned you in her arms, swiftly backing you into the wall of the elevator and her lips captured yours in a kiss.

While she had been showing some signs of uncertainty when it came to navigating this particular type of situation, it was suddenly very clear that she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to the more intimate side of things. Only a second after her hands were on you, her lips gliding against yours and you were complete putty in her hands.

Your hands easily looped around her shoulders, pulling her tighter to you as your lips moved with grace against each other. Emily slotted a leg between yours, knee against the wall right as her tongue slid across your lips, urging them to part and you quickly obliged. Her tongue swept into your mouth and you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, hips rocking toward her and she ground you down onto her thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a small whimper into the kiss, one that morphed into a needy whine as the elevator dinged and Emily suddenly stepped away from you, her hand grabbing yours to quickly lead you down the hallway.

“Thought you were patient.” She teased with a gleam in her eye and you only had enough time to let out a huff of a laugh before you were inside the suite. “Cause now you’re sounding like a needy girl.”

“Maybe if someone wasn’t such a tease.” You shot back and she chuckled darkly, stepping toward you, gently pinching your chin as she titled your face up towards her.

“For someone who wants to cut to the chase so badly, you certainly are overdressed.” Her fingers slipped into the straps of your dress, nudging them over your shoulders, “how about we get this off?”

Your hands reached behind your back, tugging the zipper down before pushing the dress down to your feet, stepping out of it along with your heels. You watched with hungry eyes as Emily’s fingers swiftly undid her blouse, dropping it behind her before she stepped back to you, her hands cascading across your skin.

“Such a pretty girl in pretty lace.” She husked, her fingers trailing over the waistband of your panties before surging upward and tracing the pattern of the lace covering the cups. Your breath caught in your throat when her fingers brushed over your nipples and her lips curved up into a grin, groping your chest and successfully pulling a moan from you. “Let me see these gorgeous tits.”

You reached behind you, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor, heat prickling beneath your skin at the feeling of Emily’s gaze on you. Her hands returned to your body, caressing your exposed chest, fingers pinching gently at your nipples, eagerly watching your reactions. She stepped forward, lips meeting yours in a lazy kiss while your hands wrapped around her, un doing her bra so you could mimic her movements. She let out a soft moan into the kiss and your hands sunk south, groping at her ass, rolling her hips toward you as you slotted a leg between hers.

Emily barely pulled away from the kiss to scold you, “uh-uh princess. Or did you forget that tonight was about me fucking you into next week?”

“Fuck…” you muttered and she laughed softly, nudging you backwards toward the bed.

“Now get rid of those panties and lie back.”

While you dropped onto the bed, fingertips slipping into the waistband of your underwear to tug them down your legs, Emily took the time to rid herself of her pants and slid the hair tie off her wrist, loosely pulling her hair back before she crawled over you on the bed. She kissed you again, her tongue surging into your mouth as you let out a soft groan at the feel of her hands back playing with your tits. Your back arched off the bed when she pinched your nipples, harder than the first time.

“Oh god..” Your head dropped back into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and she took advantage of your exposed neck.

Her lips trailed down it, pausing briefly to nip at your sensitive skin, wondering if she should mark you or not. Instead she licked across your collarbone before sucking a nipple into her mouth and you moaned, your fingers weaving into her hair the best they could. This time her teeth did scrape across your skin and you whimpered, heat tingling from where her mouth was on your body down all the way between your legs. It didn’t take long before Emily’s lips had traced their way down your body and her hands were on your thighs, spreading them wide to make room for herself. Her thumb swept through your folds, briefly pressing on your clit and you moaned, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“Such a pretty girl.” She cooed before shifting forward, repeating the motion but this time using her tongue and you couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

“Fuck!”

Her lips wrapped around your lower ones, tongue drawing patterns across your cunt as she began to eat you out. She eagerly accepted your hand tangled in her hair, urging her closer to your pussy, her tongue slipping in as far as she could, lapping at the juices that were starting to leak out. She groaned over your taste, grinding down against the mattress as her fingers dug into the skin of your thighs. The taste of you on her tongue and the way your thighs were already trembling under her touch was enough to drive her wild and she was certain she would never get over it. Knowing that you were this turned on already and that she had this effect on you had her pussy throbbing, dampening her panties as she continued to lick at your cunt. Her nose bumped against your clit and you whined, your hips rocking up towards her,

“More…” you begged and she smirked, her tongue lapping through your folds before it flicked at your clit and you whimpered.

“You like that?” She asked, her tongue flicking your clit again and you shuddered, nodding. “you want your pretty clit sucked?” She flattened her tongue, slowly dragging it across your swollen nub and you groaned, your fingers tightening in her hair.

“Yes! Please!”

“Such a good girl.” She praised, “I guess good girls do get rewarded.”

Her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it into her mouth and you let out a very satisfied moan, eyes scrunching shut as her tongue traced patterns around it. Emily brought her hand up, two finger tips sliding up and down your folds, teasing you, coating them in your wetness before she slid them into your pussy.

“Fuck… Emily…” Your pussy fluttered around her fingers, pleasure surging through you as the fire prickled just under your skin.

She had an expertise at what she was doing, you could tell, and it never took long for her to follow her instincts, read your body language and reactions. It felt like she had barely started touching you and you were already panting, a shimmer of sweat glistening over your body as her fingers began to pump inside your cunt. She popped off your clit, blowing cool air on it and you shivered, your hand clawing at the bedspread as your pussy pulsed around her fingers. With her mouth back on you her fingers began to curl to find that extra sensitive spot within you and she found it faster than she expected. You could feel the smirk of her lips as you cried out.

“Oh god… yes!” You whined when her finger tips hit it again, “right there.”

Emily sucked harder on your clit as her fingers brushed your g-spot again, pressing harder and longer with each thrust of her hand. Feeling the way your thighs were squeezing around her, the way your hips jolted up off the bed with each pump of her fingers she knew you had to be close, your pussy clenching down around her as she picked up the speed. It didn’t take long at all before you were moaning loudly, pleasure shooting through your veins, bursting from your body and your juices were dribbling down her hand. Your body shook, a whine escaping your lips and she pulled away from you slightly, her fingers slowing as they fucked you through your orgasm.

Once you had mostly come back down to earth her fingers slipped from you and she sucked them clean before crawling up your body, kissing you breathless. Your hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to you as your tongue danced with hers, groaning over the taste of you in her mouth.

“Roll over.” She murmured, lips brushing against yours as she swatted at your hip.

You eagerly rolled to your stomach, the bed dipping as she slid off it and you watched her wander to a chair, digging through a small duffle until she pulled out the strap and a bottle of lube. Your eyes darkened as she stepped into it, adjusting the toy and you popped up to your hands and knees, presenting yourself to her.

She sauntered back over to the bed, climbing on behind you and her hands ghosted up your thighs, spreading your cheeks so she could get a look at your cunt, glistening in the low light of the room, smeared with your juices.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She praised, her hand gently slapping against it and you let out a breathy whine, your eyes fluttering shut as your rocked back towards the touch. “Oh?” She raised a brow, “you like that, hm? Like being spanked?” This time her hand swatted at your ass and you let out a low moan.

“Yes..”

“I’ll have to remember that.” She cracked open the bottle of lube, smearing it across the dildo, “but for now… do you want my cock?” She nudged the head of it against your pussy and you whined, “want me to stretch out this pretty pussy?”

“Please!” You cried out, hands grasping at the bedspread as you felt yourself pulse over nothing.

Emily chuckled softly, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her cock sunk inch by inch into your pussy and you let out a satisfied groan when her hips collided with yours, cock deep in your cunt. She pulled out until just the tip was left inside you and thrusted her hips sharply, pulling a throaty gasp from you. Pausing for a moment while she was buried deep she circled her hips and you let out a satisfied sigh, your body rocking back toward her and she knew she was in the clear, you had no issue being fucked that hard.

“Take me so well princess.” She murmured, a hand rubbing up your back before she thrust deeply back into you and you groaned again.

Emily then set a steady pace, her cock plunging into you with each thrust, your body rocking forward and following her movement back, eager for more. Each pump of her hips you could feel the ridges of the toy dragging through your walls, hitting every spot you needed them to, your pussy fluttering harder and harder around it. Emily’s lips curved up into a grin at the sight of her cock coated in more of your juices each time she pulled it out, that you had gone from moaning to only being able to whimper and whine as she fucked you harder. Her hand slid up your back, leaving goosebumps in its path before she tangled into your hair, tugging at the roots and you let out a gasp, your pussy clenching down around her cock.

“Fuck…” You managed out between moans, fire burning through your entire body as she fucked deeper into you.

The hand Emily had in your hair pulled harder, yanking you up flush to her and your breath struggled through your throat before coming out as a gasping moan, feeling her mouth in the crook of your neck again.  Her free hand wrapped around your body, easily finding your clit, beginning to rub at it in time with her thrusts.

“Such a good girl.” She husked into your ear, “such pretty sounds.” Her teeth nipped at your earlobe, “come for me princess, I know you’re close.”

Her fingers pressed harder on your clit, rubbing faster as she continued to fuck you, your bodies slick with sweat, the room filled with a cacophony of your moans, wetness and skin meeting skin. Emily’s cock hit a spot inside you and you cried out, your hand wrapping around her wrist in an attempt to ground yourself as she fucked you even harder, pulling you over the ledge for you to come tumbling down as your orgasm flooded over you. Your juices coated her cock, dripping down your thighs as your body trembled in her arms before she let you collapse down onto the mattress and she slowed her thrusts.

“Jesus Christ.” You whimpered, voice muffled by the sheets as your body shook, pleasure shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers down to your toes as a second wind waved over your body.

Behind you Emily chuckled darkly, slowing her thrusts until she was completely stilled, still inside you and she leant over your body, leaving a trail of soft kisses down your spine before she slipped out of you. You let out a small whine at the loss of feeling so full, the ache already setting in between your legs as she shifted off the bed to slip out of the strap, leaving it to be dealt with later.

“You okay?” She asked softly, her hand ghosting up your back as she crawled back onto the bed and you let out a happy hum.

“Absolutely perfect.” You shifted slightly, shoving the mussed up blankets so you could at least slip half beneath them as Emily settled on the bed, her arm winding around you, urging you to curl into her side.

Her hand continued to rub soothing patterns into your back as you finally managed to catch your breath, a dopey smile on your cheeks as you rested on her chest. She wordlessly reached out to the remote, turning on the television and flicking through the channels until something caught her interest and you let out a hum to convey your interest. It wasn’t much longer past that point that your stomach let out a low grumble and she laughed quietly.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have rushed through dinner so fast.” You laughed, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbow, “they have a room service menu?”

She leaned over, shuffling through the nightstand before returning with one, flipping it open and passing it to you, “pick whatever you want. I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

It didn’t take long for you to call down to place an order in while Emily disappeared into the bathroom before grabbing the wine and some plastic cups, returning to the bed before you did the same. Fifteen minutes later you had an order of spinach dip, potstickers, and a very self indulgent plate of chicken strips for yourself spread out across the bed along with glasses of wine. You were mainly paying attention to the television, but the conversation was still peppered through as time went by, laughing over jokes and getting to know each other on a different level. Once the food was finished, Emily encouraged you to get cozy, that you were obviously welcome to stay the night and you took full advantage of that, stretching out in the luxury bed. She did mention it was likely she would have to take off before she wanted to the next morning, but she wouldn’t wake you, that she wanted you to stay as long as you wanted.

Both of you wanted to stay up later, but the six a.m. wake up that morning was catching up with you by the time midnight rolled around, yawns being passed back and fourth before you were snuggling into the pillows and Emily finally flicked off the tv.

The sound of your phone pinging woke you up in the morning, sun streaming across the warm bed and you let out a yawn, stretching out your deliciously sore body as you did so. Glancing around the suite you assumed Emily had left earlier and that thought was confirmed when you glanced to the bedside table, an envelope propped up against the lamp. You picked it up, finding her writing scrawled across the back of it.

‘Clear your schedule for next Saturday. I’ll text you more info later, but for now, take this and buy yourself something nice.’

Holding the envelope up to the window you could tell she had left you a credit card to do some shopping with and a happy smile broke out on your lips. When you picked up your phone you discovered that it was a Venmo notification that had woken you up, two hundred dollars sent from Emily.

Letting out a happy sigh you dropped back into the plush pillows, you certainly weren’t going to complain about spending your weekends like this from now on.

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 7)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 7 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

the lead up to the silverstone race is treacherous, painful and downright confusing, and you're not referring to the weather. you find yourself being pulled in different directions and just when you think you've figured it out, your path leads you right back to where you started in the first place

word count: 6.9k tags/warnings: just a lot of angst im sorry

Usually, when you attended the races, you were there all weekend. From Friday morning till the end of the podium ceremony on Sunday. But for Silverstone, you were dreading walking into that track and seeing Charles so you pushed back your travel plans and decided to only go for the race.

Lando ordered a car for you to take to the hotel Saturday night, something that he really didn’t have to do but he insisted on it and you were starting to figure out which battles to pick with him. This was not one of them. 

He had to be at the hotel with his team Wednesday night, so you really didn’t get to spend too much time with him after the shoot with Quadrant. 

Which, honestly, you were okay with. You needed to pack as you were heading straight back to Monaco the following Monday with Charles and Arthur. You weren’t looking forward to that plane ride. If you were lucky, Charles would have a good weekend and he wouldn’t bring up Lando.

But the second the car pulled up to the hotel, a few drops of rain hit the windshield. The driver made a comment about how conditions would only get worse for tomorrow and you so desperately wanted to ignore the possibility of a wet race, however that seemed to be what everyone was talking about in the lobby.

You picked up your room key and texted both Lando and Charles that you arrived. Lando texted you back immediately saying he was in a briefing with his team but that he’d stop by your room after and Charles, without any context, sent you '1125'. His room number.

You dropped your luggage off, but didn’t give yourself any time to settle in before heading up the few levels to floor 11. Charles didn’t have to say anything other than his room number, you got the hint. He needed to talk to you. 

The door swung open as soon as you knocked. 

“Look I don’t want to fight,” you started off, already sounding defensive as you followed Charles into the hotel room. 

“I don’t want to fight either,” Charles agreed with you, opening up the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “I just want to know what’s going on in your head, Y/N. What are you doing getting involved with a driver?”

“Lando’s just a friend,” but even you didn’t believe your own words. 

Charles gave you a look, one that told you he saw right through your bullshit and you pulled your fingers through your hair, needing a way out of this that didn’t paint you or Lando as the bad guy. 

“Okay fine,” you shrugged helplessly. “I like him, I think. Is that what you want me to say? It’s not as though I’m dating him and even if I was, what’s the big deal?”

You probably didn’t need to add that last question. It was just an open invitation for Charles to tell you everything that was weighing heavy on his mind.

“This is a dangerous sport, Y/N, but this is what all of us drivers have signed up for.” Charles started off with what you already knew before hitting you where it would hurt. “We know the risks when we get in the cars, but we don’t have to think about anything besides what’s on the track…” his pause was deafening. “But if you started dating him, that’s an entirely new element that’s now being introduced to the race.”

You scoffed, “No it’s-”

Charles held up his hand. “Listen to me, Y/N. You would be on the back of my mind if I’m ever even near him on the track. And you’ll always be on his. He might stop pulling risky moves, knowing that if anything happened to him, it would destroy you and not only that, there would be no more racing between us because subconsciously, you’ll be in the cars with us, telling us not to fight, not to put our lives at even more risk.” 

He reasons for you not wanting to date a driver lined up with yours, but he was able to offer it from the perspective behind the wheel.

“It’s the same reason why I’m terrified for Arthur to ever move up to F1,” Charles further explained. “I would jeopardise my own race for him, for his safety. I would do anything to protect him and I would do anything to protect you. If you started dating Lando, then that need to look after you, automatically extends to him.”

You felt sick. You needed to lean against the wall behind you, feeling your legs grow numb. The worry in Charles’ eyes assured you that he was no longer upset or mad about you going behind his back to hang out with Lando, he was now concerned for what lay ahead. 

“I love you and I want you to be happy, I want nothing more than for you to find a partner to be happy with,” Charles rubbed his hand over his face as he shook his head. This was as painful for him to get out as it was for you to hear. “But selfishly, I don’t want you to put your happiness in another driver.”

There really wasn’t anything for you to say. Charles had every right to be selfish. This was his career, his life. You weren’t supposed to be any more intertwined in it than you already were. 

You pushed yourself off the wall, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you turned to walk towards the door. 

Charles tried to follow, “Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

You held up a hand towards him as you turned and forced a smile on your face. You really didn’t want to fight. You loved your brother, you wanted to respect what he was asking. He had given you so much. Because of him, you had dozens upon dozens of opportunities and met the most incredible people. 

You could give up this thing with Lando, whatever it was. And better you did it now before it became too hard to walk away.

“You should get some sleep” you told Charles, your voice almost caught in your throat. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left his room without another word. The elevator ride back to your floor was slow, treacherous even as you thought about what sort of conversation you needed to have with Lando. 

You’d wait till after the race. It wouldn’t do anyone any favours to call this whole thing off right before his home race. The least you could do was wait until after to break his heart. 

But then the elevator opened and you saw the driver who had taken up all of your thoughts leaning against your hotel room door. He put his phone away when he looked up and spotted you. His smile broke you. For so long you wanted to be the reason for it and now you were going to be the cause of why it would disappear. 

“How was the drive?” Lando asked, stepping out of the way for you to unlock the door. “It’s starting to rain, hey? The team thinks it’ll be pretty bad for most of the race tomorrow but what’s Silverstone without a little-”

“Lando,” you cut him off promptly, turning the handle to push the door open. You met his eyes for a second before you had to look away, before he could catch on that something was wrong. “Look, I’m really tired, I just want to go to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Lando was a little taken aback, but he didn’t try to talk you into staying up. He reached forward and gave your hand a squeeze, “Okay, yeah, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

All you wanted to do was pull him into your hotel room and spend the next few hours with him until he had to leave to go to bed. Even then, you’d probably be able to convince him to just spend the night with you. 

But you couldn’t do that. The most you could do was offer up a sliver of a smile before walking into the room and letting the door shut behind you. 

Suddenly, a wet race for tomorrow seemed like the least of your worries.

You arrived at Silverstone with Charles. He had tried to talk to you all morning and it wasn’t as though you were mad at him, you were just frustrated with the position he had put you in.

It didn’t help that the second you scanned your badge and stepped past the gates, you felt the first raindrop of the day hit your cheek. You looked up, and even with the dark shades on, it was impossible to miss the incoming storm clouds.

“Wet race today, hey?” 

You turned over your shoulder to see Pierre scanning his badge as well. The two of you hadn’t spoken at all since your conversation in Montreal. You asked yourself why you even stopped walking to wait for him, especially since Charles had gone off ahead to get out of the rain.

“Still giving me the cold shoulder?” Pierre asked as he approached you. The two of you started walking down the paddock, thankfully the Ferrari motorhome was close.

“Still telling everyone we slept together?” You retorted and Pierre dipped his head back and laughed.

“Chérie, I told like four, maybe five people,” Pierre tried to play it off, but when he saw you weren’t about to give him the time of day, he grabbed your hand and forced you to stop walking. “Come on, we’re friends. Don’t cut me off like this.”

“No, you and Charles are friends,” you hastily pulled your hand away from his grasp. “I’m just someone who got caught up in the moment.”

It blew your mind how cocky Pierre could be sometimes. It almost made you want to tell Charles what happened just because you knew it would cause a fight between them. Maybe Pierre would second guess his actions if he was getting yelled at by his best friend.

And that way, Charles would have something else on his mind besides you and Lando. If anything bad happened on the track, not like you want something to happen, he could blame it on finding out about Pierre and you. Surely learning that his closest friend and sister slept together was much worse than whatever this fling was that you currently had with Lando.

Speaking of Lando…

You hadn’t even seen him walk through the gates. Your frustration, and therefore your attention, was solely on Pierre. It wasn’t until the bright orange hoodie became impossible to ignore that you pulled your eyes away from the French driver.

Recently when you looked at Lando, you felt a swarm of butterflies attack your stomach. 

Those butterflies were still there, but it was as if they were now trying to claw their way out of your stomach, fighting each other and making you suffer the consequences. 

You didn’t want to end things. 

You wanted to meet him halfway as he approached you and collapse in his arms, who cares who saw? You wanted to kiss him without a time limit and wish him good luck today. You wanted to hang out in the fucking McLaren motorhome which is something you never thought you’d ever find yourself wishing for.

“Little gloomy today, huh?” Lando asked, sounding a lot chipper than how you or Pierre looked.

You glanced up, as did Pierre and you shrugged. The less you spoke now, the easier it would be to end things later.

“It’s not too bad yet,” Pierre pointed out.

“Oh I was talking about Y/N’s outfit,” Lando joked, nudging your arm with his elbow. “What’s with the all bla- are you okay?” Lando's smile dropped and his tone did a 180 the second he noticed you weren’t in the mood for one of his jokes. He glanced between you and Pierre and not so subtly raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Pierre announced, hands held up beside his head in defence as he started to walk away. “Paddock Princess over here was in a bad mood before I said anything.”

You watched him head off for a second before your attention went back to Lando. You tried to dodge his hand when he reached for your sunglasses but he was too quick, pulling them right off your face. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

“You should get inside before it really starts to rain.”

“Look either we keep stating the obvious or we talk about what’s going on,” Lando demanded, not giving you any other option. There was no lighthearted tone any more, no more playful attitude like he usually had when he saw you in the Paddock. 

More people started to walk through the gates, people that were going to want Lando’s attention if he didn’t keep walking, you both knew this. 

“Can we not have this conversation right here?” You asked him, lowering your voice as you nervously glanced around. Ideally, you wouldn’t even be having this conversation. 

And in a strange twist of fate, you got what you wanted.

Lando could see right through you, he saw the hesitation just from your stance alone. The guilt in your eyes was clear even if they were slightly puffy and bloodshot. They way you refused to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds told him that something heavy weighed on your shoulders, something heavy enough to take out the both of you. 

And Lando didn’t want to have this conversation either.

He might not have known exactly what was on your mind, but he didn’t need to ask anything to know it wasn’t good. That and how quick you were to turn him away last night, it was all starting to add up. No words needed to be spoken.

He handed your sunglasses back to you and nodded slightly, like he was accepting the outcome of this, like he knew he couldn’t change your mind, so why bother trying? He walked right past you without saying anything, but that’s what you wanted right? 

No conversation was easier than laying it all out on the table. It was easier to accept the reality as it was than to hear yourself say the words ‘we can’t be together’. 

You slid the sunglasses back on your face and waited a few seconds before heading towards Ferrari, making sure to stay on the opposite side of the paddock. Neither one of you so much as glanced at the other. You heard his name being called before you walked up the bright red steps and the moment you entered the motorhome, you let out the heaviest exhale that had been pressing against your chest. 

Was it even reasonable for you to be reacting like this? You weren’t even dating.

But you were throwing away the possibility of something great, all because you knew you had to put Charles first. 

He was the first person you saw when you walked inside and gathered your bearings. He was in the middle of a conversation with his assistant when you grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“I hope you’re happy,” you spoke through a bitter laugh. “Me and Lando are done.”

He seemed confused, but when his features softened after a moment, you could tell that he was in fact pleased to hear this news.

“Good,” Charles nodded. “You shouldn’t date a driver anyway.”

“No you shouldn’t have this much say over my life, Charles,” you rubbed your hands over your face, letting what was once sorrow turn to anger. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He raised his voice as well, neither of you caring about the handful of people that were nearby. “I put my life at risk every weekend, the least you could do is not give me something else to think about when I get in the car!”

“You don’t have to think about anything other than the points, don't worry.” You assured him. The venomous tone was impossible to miss. “And good luck today. Hopefully my heartbreak doesn’t ruin your race for you.”

Charles groaned, rolling his eyes at how dramatic he thought you were being, “Y/N-”

“Oh, no, wait, you only give a shit about my feelings when I start caring about a driver other than you, right?” You patted his shoulder, a bit of force behind it as you sucked in a sharp breath. “Brother of the year, over here.”

You walked past him and he was smart by not trying to talk to you, instead choosing to go up to his drivers room. You sat down on the couch in the hospitality lounge, lips pursed together tightly as the sound of raindrops hitting the window behind you started to grow loud enough to drown out your own thoughts.

You would have loved nothing more than for the race to start, to stand in the back of the garage and flip Charles off before he slid his helmet on. You wanted to flirt with Carlos right in front of your brother before he was inevitably dragged away. You wanted to watch the race and cheer Lando on for a change. You wanted to do anything and everything that would purposely get under his skin.

But things never seemed to work out in your favour. 

It was announced the race was postponed due to the oncoming storm and you stayed right there on that couch, watching everyone else scurry around to figure out the new game plan for the day.

Charles' assistant tried talking to you at one point, but you just shook your head. She got the hint and turned right around.

You weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone in the motorhome, that was pretty obvious. If the all black outfit wasn’t enough to deter people away already, your constant crossed arms and the fact that you wore sunglasses inside sure had people second guessing whether or not they wanted to approach you during the wait.

A couple hours went by and you received a few curious looks, but the only person who didn’t give a single fuck that you were purposely trying to look reclusive, was Carlos. 

He dropped down on the couch beside you, arm stretched on the back of the couch behind your shoulders as he playfully twisted the end of your ponytail around his fingers.

You yanked your hair out of his hand, “What do you want, Carlos?”

“Why are you in a bad mood?” He was straight to the point, you liked that about your friendship. There wasn’t any bullshit.

“I’m not,” okay maybe there was a little bullshit.

“Okay,” Carlos nodded, going right back to playing with your hair, “Why is Charles in a bad mood?”

“I don't know, it’s not my problem.”

“I think it is, hermosa,” Carlos snickered, “I think you two are each other's problems.”

“Fine, you know what,” you turned on the couch to face him. Carlos was a bit taken aback to see you give in and talk so easily, “Charles’ problem is that he thinks my life affects his and my problem is that I care too much about what Charles thinks. Do you see how this is a bad cycle for us to be in?”

Carlos paused. You could tell by the way his jaw tensed he was trying to figure out what to say, but you were purposely vague and the more time that passed with you just staring at the Ferrari driver, the more it sank in for both of you that he probably couldn’t help you.

“Is this about Lando?” Carlos eventually asked. “And how about how you two have been getting close recently?”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “This is about me practically being forced to put Charles first.”

“As opposed to…”

“Putting myself first.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. Everything you said was just adding to the confusion and you eventually just gave up trying to keep it bottled in.

You repeated what Charles had told you last night. You told Carlos about the added risks Charles had if you started dating a driver, you shared the concerns and how guilty you felt for wanting to see things through with Lando when you knew you owed it to Charles to call things off. You expressed that you were upset and angry and broken and confused at the same time, which shouldn't have been possible.

“He told me he didn’t want me to put my happiness in a driver,” you rested your elbow on the couch, cheek to palm as you tried to ignore the pain of Charles’ words for the second time in less than 12 hours.

Carlos didn’t say anything for a few seconds. And then those seconds turned into a minute. And then that minute turned into three and you had to hit his arm to get him to look at you, worried that he had been thinking too hard and accidentally zoned out.

“Carlos,” your eyebrows furrowed together, “Say something.”

He opened his mouth, only to close it once again. You rubbed your hand over your face, wondering why you decided an F1 driver would make a good therapist. 

“I just-” Carlos couldn’t get the words out. “I don’t get it, is all. When we get in the car, we know that nothing else matters except the race. Charles doesn’t have the right to pull you into the car with him, metaphorically of course. If he does that and messes up his race, that’s his own fault.”

You wished that was the case, but Charles didn’t see it like that. 

“Okay, let’s say you were dating a driver, Lando, for example” Carlos started off, dragging his fingers over his lower lip. “Charles is the one who needs to learn how to separate it. He needs to learn when it’s time to see Lando as the competition and when to see Lando as the person who makes you happy.” Carlos dropped his hand to your leg, “That isn’t on you. That’s on him.”

“But it’s just going to make his life difficult and I don’t want that for him.”

“Charles is a grown man I think he can figure it out,” Carlos’s assuring smile spread across his face. “Plus with the amount of gossip that goes on in the paddock, I don’t get why this, your happiness, is what he’s choosing to make you feel guilty for.”

You nodded in agreement before Carlos’ words actually hit you. 

“Wait,” you pointed a finger at him. “What gossip?”

Carlos instantly knew he messed up, “I didn’t-”

“What. Gossip.”

But his silence said it all. This fucking Pierre bullshit was coming back to haunt you again. You dropped your hands to your face and let out a muffled scream. There were a handful of people who were nearby who gave you a look of concern, but none of them mattered.

When you looked at Carlos again, his face had gone red. 

“So you know and Charles knows?” You asked. “About me and Pierre?”

“Well he doesn’t-” he shrugged. “Charles has an idea but he’s not going to ask you or Pierre about it. He can pretend it didn’t happen if you never confirm it.”

“But he knows,” you clarified. It wasn’t your fault that Charles just wouldn’t accept the reality of what happened. “He knows and yet somehow, that doesn’t affect him on the track? He can race Pierre like normal but the second I’m actually happy with someone, it’s game over?”

Again, Carlos didn’t know how to respond and this time, you weren’t sticking around and waiting for him to. You stood up from the couch and walked up the stairs of the motorhome, knowing your brother was in his driver's room. Carlos was hot on your heels, probably regretting having dug this past up because whether he liked it or not, he was now caught in the middle of it.

You didn’t even knock on Charles’ door, you just swung it open. Charles was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, half dressed for the upcoming race. His fireproof long sleeve was on but his drivers’ suit was hanging around his hips. He looked up at you, confused as to why you just barged in.

You just blurted it out.

“J'ai baisé Pierre.” I fucked Pierre.

Charles’ mouth dropped.

You repeat yourself, in English this time. “I had sex with Pierre.”

He stood up, looking at Carlos behind you for help, but Carlos was just as stunned as he was.

Finally, you said it in Italian, just to get the message across loud and clear. “Ho dormito con il tuo migliore amico." I slept with your best friend.

Charles was speechless. He tried to sputter out the word ‘what’ but he had no voice. He just kept shaking his head, as if that would do anything.

“And-” you decided to keep going. Everything was already up in flames so why not keep feeding the fire, right?

You turned and grabbed Carlos’ shirt to pull him towards you. Before he had time to react, you pressed your lips to his. For a second, you did panic about not knowing whether or not he would even consent to this but when you felt Carlos start to kiss you back after a few seconds, presumably forgetting his teammate and your brother was standing right in front of you, you figured it was fine.

You pulled back and looked at Charles, “-I just kissed your teammate.”

“What the fuck-”

“I like Lando,” you harshly cut him off.

This was the first time you were saying it without the word maybe in front or i think following it. This was also the first time you didn’t feel any sort of hesitation. It was freeing.

“I like him. And I don’t know how strong these feelings are, I don’t know if they’ll last, all I know is that he makes me so stupidly happy, and selfishly-” you used his word against him. “-I want to hold onto that for as long as I can.”

You felt Carlos tap your shoulder and you held up a finger towards him, indicating that this was not the time to dissect that kiss. 

Charles looked ready to strangle you. And Carlos, but mostly you. “Y/N why are you saying this? Why did you just kiss him?” He gestured to his teammate. “What the fuck is going on? I race today and you think it’s smart to drop all of this on me?”

“Charles, you seem to think that what happens in my life affects yours, more specifically affects what you do on the track and I don’t think that’s the case.” You took a step forward, keeping your voice as calm and reasonable as possible as you said what you should have told him last night. 

“Really, it’s just what you choose to do with the information that you’re given and now you know everything. Now there’s three drivers on the track you might see differently as opposed to one and I know you. I know you’re a strong enough driver, and strong enough mentally, to not let any of this get to you. If you want your emotions to get in the way when you’re in the car, that’s on you. That’s not on me.”

There was definitely an easier way to go about this conversation. You didn’t have to walk in announcing you had sex with his best friend and kissing Carlos probably wasn’t needed, but it all furthered your point.

“My life is intertwined with yours. It has been since I decided to accompany you to all of these races and yes, I will be your biggest supporter but I will also live my own life at the same time,” slowly but surely you could see Charles' shoulders drop as he started to untense. “You can’t blame my feelings for Lando if you have a shitty race, okay? You can’t blame me.”

You started to back up and Carlos stepped out of the way for you.

“Where the hell are you going now?” Charles asked.

“To fix things,” you waved off his concern and practically ran down the stairs and out the front doors of Ferrari.

You were sprinting as you made your way down the paddock. The rain was coming down hard now and your eyes were set on the McLaren motorhome. 

You probably looked insane. Running down the puddle-filled paddock in platform boots without an umbrella but in all honesty, this was probably the best time for a grand gesture. Everyone who worked for the media was finding shelter right now, you were in the clear.

You walked up the steps but someone from the team who had been standing outside under the awning stopped you before you could reach for the door. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Leclerc, you can’t just go in there, not without an invitation,” he told you, obviously recognising you as being Charles’ sister. It made sense. You were, by association, with Ferrari.

“I need to talk to Lando,” you wiped at your eyes, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face. You felt around for your phone but came up empty handed, figuring you must have left it back on the couch in Ferrari. “Please, two seconds. That’s all I need. Tell him I need to talk to him.”

He held up a finger and opened the door to head inside. You waited for a second but your clothes were soaking, your hair was sticking to your face and neck. Your make up was ruined and the rain was freezing cold, so obviously you walked inside as well.

A hush fell over the motorhome when the door shut behind you. Mostly because you stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone was wearing orange, you were the only one dressed in all black and you were the only one who looked like they just jumped into a pool with all of their clothes on. 

You smiled awkwardly, shoulders tightening as you pressed your back to the door. You were wondering who was going to say something first, who was going to kick you out, and surprisingly the one who spoke up was Oscar.

“For christ sakes get her a towel or something,” Oscar called out, standing up from the table he sat at. You mouthed a quick thank you to him.

You and Oscar had never exchanged a single word before, maybe a smile here or there, but you were truly appreciative that he acknowledged you as someone who just needed to dry off right now, not as someone who was associated with Ferrari. 

Someone who worked with Hospitality crossed the floor with a few clean dish towels, telling you it was all she had at the moment. You thanked her and then looked up at Oscar who was also making his way to you. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, ringing out your hair. “I know I shouldn’t be here-”

“Oh I don’t mind at all,” Oscar laughed. “I take it you’re here for Lando?”

You didn’t nod. You actually didn’t say anything, your mouth just fell open and you forgot how to breathe when you realised that Lando had most likely told his teammate about you.

“I might be,” you reluctantly answered. “I might also be here because I heard that you guys have the best espresso machine.”

“Espresso is a piss poor reason to venture outside during a storm.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you wiped the cloth under your eyes. The amount of makeup that had transferred to the towel was horrendous. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now. 

“Is he-” you glanced towards the staircase behind him. Why was it so hard for you to finish your sentences? Why was Lando clouding every one of your thoughts to the point that you couldn’t get more than a few words out? Why did he affect you so much?

At that moment, the security from earlier started to descend the stairs. Instinctively, you stood closer to Oscar, trying to make it seem as though he was the one who invited you in.

“He’s busy,” was all the McLaren employee said.

“Bullshit he’s busy,” you spat, coming across much harsher than you intended to. “The race is postponed, he’s not doing anything!”

“He told me to tell you he’s busy.”

You looked at Oscar, it was obvious he felt a little awkward standing in the middle of the conversation, but he wanted to help. What was good for his teammate was ultimately good for the team and Oscar so desperately hoped you weren’t here with malicious intent. 

“You can hang out in my driver's room,” he offered, his lips curving upwards into a smile. Oscar turned to the security, “She’s my guest too, it’s fine.”

This employee knew Oscar was lying through his teeth and all three of you knew Oscar’s room was right next to Lando’s. But because you were given the go-ahead from a McLaren driver himself, he couldn’t do anything to prevent you from walking up the stairs, boots squeaking against the floor the entire way. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Oscar a thankful smile and he gave you a thumbs up. Part of you felt horrible for never giving him the time of day before. Subconsciously, you saw him as the driver who replaced Daniel and held a bit of a personal vendetta, but it was clear he had a good heart. 

You waited until the security guard looked away before sneaking around the corner to where Lando’s room was located. You read his name on the plaque a few times and thought about knocking, but if he knew you were outside the door he wouldn’t open it. 

So you turned the handle and pushed the door open. Lando wasn’t even in his racing suit, opting for a pair of joggers and a hoodie as he waited for the race start to be announced. He was leaning against the massage bed and looked up from his phone, barely even acknowledging you before turning right back to his phone.

“I don’t really feel up to chatting right now,” Lando muttered.

“Fine then just listen,” you walked in and shut the door behind you. 

Your heart was pounding and you would have liked to blame your trembling on the fact that you were just standing in the rain but you knew it was because you were finally about to be honest with Lando.

“I think I made a mistake,” you stated. Lando didn’t look up, choosing to disregard your words. You couldn’t blame him. You went from barely being able to look at him a few hours ago to dramatically confessing your feelings. “I didn’t want to admit it before, but Lando I really- I like you.”

“Yeah you like a lot of things,” Lando was unamused as he scratched the side of his face. “You like chocolate cheesecake, you like daisies, you like Daniel’s merch-” he inhaled a sharp breath, still keeping his eyes on his phone. “You like speaking French over Italian, you like supporting the underdogs, you like that you have a presence in the Paddock.” This was taking a turn, “You don’t like driving, you like when someone understands your humour, you like putting your family first even if it means putting yourself last, you love cooking, you have a weird obsession with shitty movies.”

 Finally he looked up.

“You like when people compliment you but you never know how to respond. You like being needed but you don’t like needing someone. You don’t like the unknown which is why a relationship scares you, regardless of who it's with. You like leading me on because you don’t care about the consequences afterwards and I fall for every word you say, every hypothetical you tease, because I think that maybe this time, it’ll be different, and do you want to know why I know all of this? Why I've put up with all of it?” 

This seemed like a rhetorical question but you responded meekly anyway, “Why?”

Lando paused. He pushed himself away from the bench and walked towards you slowly. His jaw tightened, there was no trace of a smile. Even if what he had to say was good in nature, it was only going to destroy you. 

“Because I like you,” he said, sounding so sure of himself and simultaneously like he wanted to take back those words the second he said them. “But I’m not about to waste my time at this halfway point with you. There’s a line here and I’m willing to cross it, to meet you so far past the middle it to make this work, but I don’t think you can say the same. So until you decide, fully and completely, what you want…stop stringing me along.”

Lando had never been so serious before.

Your entire friendship, relationship, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, was playful and fun and he was the reason why your jaw hurt from laughing. He was the person who wanted to take care of you, to make you smile and now he was so close to giving up on all of that, all because you were going to put Charles first.

You genuinely couldn’t blame him. You had been back and forth for weeks. It may not have clicked until now, but you had been leading him on. He had done so much for you and practically overnight, you were nearly ready to forget all of it.

There was a knock on the door. Neither of you made the move to answer it, instead letting whoever was on the other side inform Lando through the wall that it was time to change and head down to the garage. 

He was waiting for you to say something. He was waiting for you to tell him that you wanted him. And you knew you did, but why couldn’t you open your mouth? Why did your fears outweigh what was right in front of you? Why was it still so hard to let yourself be happy with Lando?

Lando nodded, accepting once again that no answer was probably better than the answer he didn’t want to hear. He gestured towards the handle of the door. Without saying a word, he was politely asking you to leave. 

And because you still couldn’t say anything, because you couldn’t meet him halfway, you left. You stepped out in the hallway, avoiding the eyes of nearby McLaren employees as you walked down the stairs. You passed Oscar before reaching the front doors and he gave you a hopeful look, curious if all was worked out between you and his teammate. 

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice. 

When you stepped outside, it was still raining but it had eased up. It was a light drizzle compared to the storm you ran through earlier. 

By the time you made it back to Ferrari, most people had already left to go to the pitlane and the garage.

An exception to that was Charles.

“Don’t,” you demanded. You didn’t want to hear anything from him, but he was clearly waiting for you. He didn’t comment on your rung out appearance or your smeared makeup. It wasn’t his place to, anyway. He just stood up and walked over to you, zipping up his racing suit in the process.

“I stand by what I said,” Charles declared and all you could do was roll your eyes as he continued. “You shouldn’t put your happiness in a driver.”

“And what if I already did?” You retorted, quite loudly. “What if I already did and I didn’t realise it until it was too late and now- and now I have nothing? What if I’m worse off now than I was before?”

For a split second, you could see it in his features. Charles was conflicted too. 

There was Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The man fighting for championship winning points. The guy who risked his life every time he stepped into the cockpit of the car.

And then there was your older brother. The one who hated that he was the one who put you in this situation. Your brother, the one who said he wanted to keep you safe, was the sole reason there was a sense of vulnerability and emptiness looming over you. 

You didn’t feel those things because you had feelings for Lando. You felt those things because Charles made you feel guilty for supporting someone other than him. 

And even after everything, after you came to the realisation that you wanted Lando, after you dropped a bombshell on your brother, after you ran across the paddock for some stupid grand gesture, where did you find yourself?

Standing in front of Charles.

No wonder Lando had his doubts with you.

“I can’t be here,” you admitted, your chest feeling tight once again. “I can’t watch the race, I’m sorry.”

For once, Charles wasn’t going to stand in your way. He had done enough damage.

“Take the plane back to Monaco if you want, there’s a car that will take you the airport-”

“No, I’m not going to Monaco,” you shook your head. Monaco was the last place you wanted to go. You didn’t want to walk into your empty flat. There was nothing for you there.

There was nothing for you here either. You couldn't stand to look at Charles. Lando wasn't going to talk to you until you figured out what your intentions were but you couldn't figure it out if you were watching a race. You needed to leave.

And you needed to go to the one place that actually felt like home.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader if i missed anyone im so sorry

[teapartyprincess4two]

heyyy idk if you've been on tiktok but currently in like the editing fandom everyone's been editing the triplets to the song 18 by Anarbor so I was just wondering if you could maybe write for Matt because I think it just fits so well but surprisingly I don't think I've ever seen anyone write for the triplets based on that song and I think you would slayyyy it. I know you've got a couple requests and others you're working on rn so no pressure, even if you don't end up doing this request I'd eat up anything you put out 💋💋

I’ll Play Your Game- M. Sturniolo

pairing: GoodGirl!reader x BadBoy!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content but no smut, mention of parental issues, controlling parents, mentions smoking, rebellious reader, mention of religion & religious trauma, mention of church, reference to the Bible (brief), cliche high school stereotypes/ tropes, long

inspiration: request^^, 18 by Anarbor

summary: You’re the Pastor’s daughter, all eyes are always on you. So, why not put on a show?

—

Ever since you were a little girl everyone expected three things from you; be sweet, pray, and obey. There were 10 commandments, all of them listed plain and simple in the Bible, and you were expected to follow them all. Your dad was strict, he had high expectations of you from the day you were born and upheld them throughout your infancy and childhood. Your mom was a pushover, she’d let your father brain wash her long ago into believing that his way was the only ways.

Your dad kept your weekly itinerary filled to the brim with activities to ensure that you had zero time to misbehave. Everyday after school, without fail, there was at least one activity waiting for you. Monday’s were for Bible study, on Tuesday you had golf practice, the afternoon prayer circle was on Wednesday, piano practice on Thursday, on Friday’s you’d volunteer at a food bank, Saturday’s were for homework and chores, and Sunday was the Lord’s day. Sunday’s were always dedicated to church, if you even thought of doing anything else you’d never hear the end of it from your dad.

That’s why, at the ripe age of 18, you’ve decided enough is enough. You’ve made it your sole mission to rebel against your dad and his ideologies, you’d remove the ‘good girl’ label from your life once and for all. But, if you were being honest, you’d followed the rules for so long that you didn’t even know where to begin.

The only good thing your parents did was send you to a public school, deeming Christian school too expensive despite it aligning more with their views. You’ve made a few friends, most of them also conformists, but no one who’d help you properly rebel against your parents. So, if you wanted to do this right, you needed to find someone new with a bad reputation; Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt was the textbook definition of a bad boy, and if there was a guide he’d definitely check off all the boxes. He had the angsty, quiet demeanor with a touch of humor. His body adorned with a multitude of tattoos, each one representing something different from his life. His hair was long enough to be considered too long by conservative parents, framing his face just around his scruffy beard perfectly. The outfits he wore, matched his mysterious persona perfectly, allowing him to disappear into the shadows seamlessly.

If anyone was going to help you piss off your parents, it was definitely going to be Matt. But you had to start off slowly, this wasn’t a one and done type of plan, it was more intricate than that and you were playing the long game. If you wanted to get to Matt, you needed to get to get to one of his triplet brothers first.

You had two options; Chris or Nick.

Chris was your stereotypical jock. He was the captain of the school’s varsity hockey team, occupying most of his Friday nights with hockey games and following them with a Saturday night full of partying. His weekdays were obviously spent at school, but he did the bare minimum to keep his grades up, he focused most of his attention on flirting with girls. Chris was loud, outgoing, flirtatious, and way too popular for his own good. If you tried getting to Matt through him, he’d surely think you were flirting.

So, if you wanted this to work, you needed someone equally as popular, but not as cocky.

That left you with Nick. Nick was on a completely different side of the popularity spectrum than Chris; he was your stereotypical cheerleader. He, much like Chris, spent his Friday’s at hockey games except he was leading his team in cheers and chants instead. The rest of his time was spent organizing the important school events such as prom and homecoming, and when he wasn’t doing that he was boosting student morale through heartfelt speeches at school assemblies.

Nick was the perfect contender and since cheer tryout were opening up soon, it was the perfect excuse to get to know him. First, you’d earn your spot on the cheerleading team. Then, you’d slowly enter Nick’s inner circle, using it as leverage to finally get to Matt.

It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

—

One of your dad’s frequented sermons plays over the car stereo as he drives you to school, he’s adamant on silence in the car so you can fully absorb the message behind the sermon. It doesn’t bother you anymore, you usually just tune it out and scroll through your phone, especially on weekday mornings on the way to school.

Before you fell asleep last night you decided that today was the day, cheer tryouts were after school and you were going to saunter in there, perform your best routine, and complete the first step of your plan.

“Listen, Y/n. This is important,” your dad snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking your gaze from your phone. He turns the sound up, the words of the sermon taking over the car, “Children, obey your parents. Do as you are told and you will be blessed.”

You rolls your eyes, it was always the same thing with you dad. “See, be obedient. God will only bless you if you’re obedient,” he says. The man on the stereo continues, “Parents, do not anger your chil-“ Before the man can finish his sentence, your dad turns the sound off. If he had to follow any rules that gave you any sort of power, he didn’t want to hear them. You side eye him, glad that he’s too focused on the road to notice.

Most kids hate school, they claim it’s a waste of time or that they hate doing all the work, but not you. You’ll gladly welcome the extra hours of homework, volunteer opportunities after school, and early tutoring sessions just for an excuse to get as far away from your controlling family as possible.

Your dad pulls up to the school parking lot, immediately commenting on something he found distasteful before bidding you goodbye. “Be the light, Y/n!” he exclaims as you hop off the car, shutting the car door without turning back to him. A wave of relief washes over you when he pulls out of the parking lot, you felt so tense the entire car ride. But now that you were finally at school, it was time to put your plan into full effect.

You were getting rid of the ‘good girl’ title no matter what.

—

When the last school bell rings you’re practically flying down the stairs to the gym. You wanted to get to the girl’s locker room as quick as possible so you could be the first in line for cheer tryouts. Nothing said ‘co-captain’ like punctuality. Or, actually, would it be better to make a fashionably late entrance? You shake the thought off, you’re just going to be on time. You’re sure Nick would appreciate it.

The tryout requires that you wear a pleated skirt along with a school shirt so that the judges know what you look like in school colors and that you know how to perform in a cheer uniform. As a classified church girl, you had a wide variety of skirts to choose from, but you made sure to pick your newest one just for the occasion. You changed quickly in the locker room, tying a bow into your hair before anyone else arrived.

When the second person entered the locker room, you were already walking out, mentally going through your routine in your head. If you wanted a spot in Nick’s inner circle, you needed to execute this routine perfectly. You choreographed it yourself after watching endless hours of cheer routine videos, making sure to incorporate as many dazzling moves as possible.

The gym is quiet, the only sound being Nick and two teachers setting up the judges table. They’re surprised to see you already dressed and ready to perform, no one had ever been this early before. They’re even more shocked that you’re here, everyone knows you’re the Pastor’s daughter and the cheer team was known for everything but modesty.

“Are you here for tryouts?” Nick asks, a big smile on his faces. He’s excited for the new year and to find a new co-captain amidst the crowd of talented dancers and performers.

“Yes, my name is y/n,” you reply, watching as he finds your name on one of his many clipboards. Suddenly, now that you’re standing in the gym, you don’t feel so confident anymore. The nerves are starting to settle and you’re becoming anxious at the thought of forgetting your routine, messing up and embarrassing yourself, or just not being good enough to make the team let alone become co-captain.

One of the teachers heaves a large stereo onto the desk, connecting it her phone and cueing up your song before asking, “Alright, Y/n. You ready?” Shaky, sweaty hands smooth down your pleated skirt, a long exhale following right after. It was now or never, if you wanted to get back at your dad for all the years of religious trauma it was going to start now.

“I’m ready.”

The teacher smiles at you, all the judges taking a seat behind the table as she presses play on the song. A funky pop beat plays over the stereo, and immediately your routine is in full swing. One of the male judges is humming along to the music, all their eyes trained on you as you dance along the gym floor. The song wasn’t necessarily inappropriate, but you managed to pull out as many sultry moves as possible.

Nick is instantly impressed by your routine, taking down a few notes on how graceful and elegant you move. The teachers, who are mostly there out of obligation, refer to their rubric before giving you a final score. If Nick could have it his way, he’d make you co-captain then and there, but there’s plenty of other girls still waiting to tryout.

You finish your routine in a split, slightly out of breath but trying to keep your composure. The music stops, but the noise is replaced with the judges clapping for your performance, “Great work! The team list will be posted end of day tomorrow. NEXT!”

Just like that you’re being rushed out of the gym for the next girl as Nick sends you an enthusiastic thumbs up. All you could do was hope you earned a spot on the team, and by the way Nick looked at you, you were almost 100% you’d be this years cheer co-captain.

You’re daydreaming about making the team, feeling confident that your plan is working and you’re not paying attention to where you’re waking. So, on the way back to the locker room you accidentally bump into someone, their hard chest causing you to stumble back slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, looking up at who just bumped into.

“No problem,” a deep voice croaks in return, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see none other than Matt, fully clad in his signature all black style. His hair falls in front of his face, hiding just enough of his eyes to give him an even more mysterious aura. He smells of cigarettes and cologne, a delicious scent that has you weak in the knees.

Without another word, just a sly smirk, Matt is walking past you and into the gym. He saunters up the bleachers, managing to find a perfectly secluded corner to hide in. Not long after, he’s joined by Chris who just finished hockey practice. Chris doesn’t bother hiding, instead he sits right next to Matt where the gym lights are still illuminating. They’re both waiting for Nick so they can head home, and although they’re tired from the school day, they’ll gladly stay a couple extra hours to watch all the pretty girls do their tryout routines.

Matt can feel you watching him, allowing the darkness to serve as a veil as he looks you up and down. He’s noticed you in the halls before, but never took you for a cheerleader. You can’t even see Matt anymore, but you have to force yourself to look away, quickly continuing your walk back to the locker room.

The next day after school you’re once again rushing down the stairs, trying to get to the bulletin before anyone else. You push past a few people, weaving your way through the crowded hallway. This is the defining moment, if you made the team you’d be one step closer to achieving your final goal: get Matthew Sturniolo.

You must’ve been lost in thought because you once again manage to bump into someone. You stumble back, some of your textbooks falling out of your arms and onto the floor in the process.

“You need to watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” Matt says, reaching his arms out to steady you before you can fall over. The nickname turned your legs to jelly.

How was it that you always managed to bump into him? It almost seemed like fate.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you reply sincerely, kneeling down to pick up your books from the floor. He does the same, picking up one of your stray books, fingertips grazing your hand when he hands it to you. Your eyes can’t help but travel up his arm, mentally counting and admiring the different tattoos that litter his arms. He notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y/n, right?” You hold your textbooks in a firm, anxious grip as you stand up. Matt is still kneeling, your knees aligned with his face. He lets his eyes trail up your legs and up to your face, a devilish grin on his face. The position felt so compromising, but you had to try an act casual.

“Yeah, you’re Matt. Right?” He hums in response, tracing your entire silhouette one last time before he finally stands up. His height causes him to tower over you, a whiff of his cologne once again hitting you, immediately putting you in a deep trance. Matt is handsome and he knows it, he notices how hypnotized you looked and it only serves as an ego boost.

“See you around, Y/n,” he smirks, sending you a quick wink as he walks outside. “See you around,” you reply meekly, mentally facepalming for letting the anxiety take you over.

You felt like a little mouse who finally gained the courage to scavenge for food only to be chased around by a ravenous cat. The only sounds coming from you being squeaks and chirps, too anxious to form coherent words. This was going to be harder than you thought.

When you finally reached the bulletin, your eyes scanned over the new team roster. Your name was all the way at the bottom in bold, capitalized letters, ‘Y/N: CO-CAPTAIN.’ At least you did that part right.

—

It’s been 2 months since your cheer audition and since then you’ve risen in popularity dramatically. As co-captain you were invited to join Nick at his table for lunch and worked closely alongside him to choreograph new routines. This led you two to become close, your friendship blossoming over the countless hours of cheer practice.

Your dad hated that you were a cheerleader, finding issues in everything about it. He deemed the uniform too provocative, the cheers too sexual, and claiming that you were spending too much time practicing and not enough time studying your Bible. The only reason he didn’t force you to quit was because your mom finally grew a backbone and stuck up for you, advocating that this was a good hobby for you. Cheerleading was the perfect scapegoat, even on the odd days when you didn’t have practice you were able to sneak out of all your other responsibilities. No more piano, golf practice, volunteering at the food bank, or Bible study for you.

Eventually, the hockey season ended so you and Nick modified the chants to fit the lacrosse field. Chris was known to play every sport possible, so you weren’t surprised to see ‘STURNIOLO’ written across one of the jerseys running on the field. But upon further examination, you realized you were seeing double. Matt, who usually watched from the sidelines, was running plays alongside his brother and absolutely dominating the field.

It was hard for you to focus on your routine, your eyes kept following his sweaty figure as it raced across the field. Nick, who notices your sudden offbeat performance, was sending you warning looks to get it together. But you couldn’t help it, Matt had an alluring aura to him that seemed to draw you in without fail each time.

The school band plays loudly over the course of the game, making it hard to hear anything other than the loud drums and trumpets. During a small break, Nick nudges you, mouthing a quick “what the fuck?” You give him an apologetic smile, adjusting your uniform slightly before mouthing back an “I’m sorry.” He gives you a look that says, ‘yeah, you better be’ before getting back in position, ready to cheer the rest of the night away. You do the same, forcing yourself not to look at Matt for the rest of the game.

Before you know it, the game is over and the stadium was filled with hooting and hollering as Matt scored the winning goal. The school and his entire tram cheered for him in unison. You and Nick guided the bleacher full of students in a big chant, cheering for the lacrosse team loudly for their victory, “Yeah, yeah, do we rock? Yeah, yeah, take it to the top! Yeah, yeah, we are never gonna stop! Get wins till the other team drops!” Pompoms are in the air, rhythmically swaying to the beat, your feet twisting and turning as you pop your hips.

These type of events were always full of school spirit, but when they ended and the team headed towards the lockers and the cheerleaders went in search of their boyfriends, the air quickly became chaotic. Especially with everyone else piling off the bleachers and into the parking lot, trying to get home before it got too dark. You stay back and chat with Nick for a while before he dismisses himself to find one of his brothers.

So, now you’re left to wander the field on your own, taking a seat on the grass under the bright stadium lights. You loved moments like this, moments when you got to be alone with your thoughts. All you could think about was Matt, and for a second you thought he might be here on the field with you, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke whipping past you with the breeze. You look around, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you.

But it’s not, you see the light at the end of his cigarette deep within the shadows, followed by cigarette smoke that forms a cloud once it dances into the light. For some reason you feel bold, or maybe it’s just the same alluring feeling from earlier that makes you stand up and walk over to him. You can’t see him, but the lit cigarette between his fingers serves as a place marker for his location, the embers crackling brightly in the dark.

Matt’s eyes train on your figure as it approaches, squinting slightly in confusion. He’s never taken you for a smoker, but then again he didn’t take you for a cheerleader and you were clearly the best dancer on the team.

The whole night he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you, even earning a tongue lashing from his coach for missing a few passes. Towards the end he had to force himself to focus, scoring the winning point in hopes of impressing you.

It obviously worked because once your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re commenting on it, “Good job on the field today, that last play was awesome.” There’s a twinge of innocence in your voice that Matt wants to destroy. “Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself,” he replies, taking a long inhale of his cigarette before blowing the smoke away from you. The wind only blows it back into your face anyways, causing you to cough slightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ready to flick the cigarette on the floor and stomp it out. But you stop him, a gentle hand holding his arm, “no it’s okay, I’ll get used to it.” The comment is bold, but you needed to be bold if you wanted to get Matt.

Was this the same girl that everyone knew as the Pastor’s daughter? Where was all this sudden confidence coming from?

“Oh, will you?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow, dusting the ash off his cigarette before taking another hit. You hum in response, slowly moving closer to him, allowing him to blow the smoke close enough to your face for it to sting. You hold in a cough, offering Matt an innocent smile that he returns with a smirk.

If this was the game you were starting, he was ready to play.

—

From that moment forward, Matt has been obsessed with you. He gave himself a day to decide whether he wanted to pursue you or not, but after hearing his lacrosse buddies talking about you one time after practice, he decided no one else could have you. The comments they were making were typical, the same things they said about every girl they found attractive, but because it was about you it irked him.

So, two days after your fateful encounter on the lacrosse field, Matt was waiting for you to finish cheer practice from outside the gym, fully clad in his lacrosse uniform, sweaty and dirty from practicing just moments before. Chris was standing nearby, chatting up another cheerleader who snuck out of the gym to be with him. Nick always reprimanded Chris for this, especially because it directly affected her performance and it showed on the field when she was struggling to keep up.

Matt debated on whether or not he should do the same, call you out from practice to tell you everything that was on his mind, but he loved watching you perfectly execute your routines during games. He wanted his girl to be the best, outperforming everyone else seamlessly. So, instead he decided to patiently wait for you.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the music in the gym turns off and he can hear sneakers against the waxy floor as you all rush towards the locker room. For someone so dark and mysterious, Matt actually found himself getting excited.

Not long after, you and Nick walk out of the locker room. You’re laughing at something Nick said as you sling your duffel bag on your shoulder. Matt watches as you throw you head back in laughter, the bow in your hair twirling in the wind.

Nick instinctively walks towards his brothers and you follow suit, still too immersed in the conversation to notice Matt. Once you’re close enough, Nick sends the cheerleader talking to Chris a disapproving look that has her scurrying away and into the locker room.

“What was that for??” Chris exclaims, watching as the girl he was chatting up disappears. “Dude you always distract her, it shows on the field. She has the sloppiest performance out of everyone on the team,” Nick comments blatantly, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “So? Just kick her off then!” Chris retaliates, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Would you date her if she wasn’t on the team?” you chime in, laughing at how flustered Chris has become. He thinks about it for a while, “no, yeah probably not.”

His response elicits a laugh from you and a scoff from Nick, who begins scolding him. Matt is watching you intently, trying to gain your attention through some form of telepathy. You feel his burning gaze on you, finally looking at him through your long, thick eyelashes. “What about you? Any girls on the team won your heart yet?” you ask, a playful grin appearing on your face. After your last encounter with him, you’re hoping he doesn’t even know anyone else on the roster and just blurts out your name.

“Hmmm maybe,” he replies with a smirk, reaching in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette. “Oh really? Mr. Tough Guy’s in love?” you tease, watching as he places a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with ease, taking a quick draw of it before pinching it away. Nick and Chris have started walking to the parking lot at this point, too immersed in their own world to notice you and Matt flirting.

“Something like that,” the smoke puffs out with each word, swirling in the air before fading away. He brings the cigarette back up onto his lips, intently waiting for you next move. What you say next is unexpected, “can I try?” You’re pointing at the cigarette innocently, causing Matt’s eyes to open in shock.

“Too strong for you, sweetheart,” he replies coyly, blowing the smoke out through the side of his mouth. “How am I supposed to get used to it then?” you’re referring to what you said the other day, hoping to jog his memory and let him know that you still want him.

Matt doesn’t skip a beat, within seconds he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Slowly,” he answers in a whisper, taking a long drag of his cigarette before moving his face closer to yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support, watching intently as his face gets closer and closer to yours.

Without another word, his lips are inches from yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. His mouth melts into yours, working the smoke into your lungs with each movement. When he pulls away from the kiss, you’re immediately coughing up a storm. Your nose burns and tears brim at your eyes from the strong sensation.

“Told you it was too strong for you,” he comments with a chuckle, putting the cigarette out on the brick wall behind him before moving his other arm around your waist. Once you’re finally not coughing he speaks again, “Here, let’s try that again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, moving your hands from his chest to his neck. He leans in for another kiss, this time savoring your sweet kiss without any smoke to inhibit his taste buds.

In that moment, Matt knew he didn’t have to say anything else, you became his girl.

—

The next few weeks were amazing, you finally got everything you wanted, all you needed to do now was flaunt all of it in front of your dad and watch how horrified he became.

“Hi baby,” Matt whispers, throwing an arm over your shoulder while you wait in the lunch line. Matt never ate lunch at school, he’d usually get in his car and hit up the nearest fast food place or walk off campus for a smoke break. He found the cafeteria to be too chaotic, there was nowhere to seclude himself and even less areas to eat a meal in peace and quiet. But, that you two are dating, he’s started dragging you along on his school day adventures. Sometimes you’ll just get lunch, other times you’ll sit and talk to him while he smokes, but most times you’ll end up making out in the backseat of his car.

“Hi handsome,” you reply in a cheery tone, tiptoeing so you can plant a quick peck on his lips. He smiles into the kiss.

“Let’s go to my car? I’ll treat you to lunch, pretty girl,” he suggests, already beginning to walk towards his car with you under his arm. You don’t complain, especially because this is the closest you’d ever get to real dates with Matt, especially when under the careful watch of your parents.

You guys end up at a local Mexican restaurant, it was a restaurant that your family frequented on Sunday’s after church so you were well acquainted with it. Once inside, you and Matt are directed to a booth in the back, perfectly secluded and away from prying eyes. He takes a seat across from you, smiling at you in a lovesick gaze.

Maybe it was too early to say it, but Matt definitely felt it; he loved you. He was apprehensive to admit it, even just to himself, because he was scared to get hurt, but so far your relationship has been nothing but sweet.

The waitress takes your order and you don’t even need to look at the menu to know what you want which catches Matt by surprise. “You bring all your boyfriends here?” he jokes, folding the menu and handing it to the waitress after placing his order. “Only the cute ones,” you joke in return, sending him a playful wink. He laughs, holding your hand in his on the table.

“This is my dad’s favorite restaurant, we come here like every Sunday after service,” you explain, taking a quick sip of your drink. Matt nods his head, of course he didn’t suspect you were cheating, but he appreciated the explanation.

“Your dad has good taste,” he comments. You never spoke about your family so everything he knew was by word of mouth. He knew the basics; your dad was a Pastor, you came from a conservative family, and your Sundays were usually occupied with church.

You hum in response, trying to think of a topic to avert the conversation from your dad, and, as if on cue, the front door rings. A customer just walked into the restaurant, nothing out of the ordinary, but upon further inspection you realize it’s your dad. You’re mid sip, choking slightly on the liquid as you try quickly swallowing from the shock.

Matt notices your distress, following your gaze to see what has you so nervous all of a sudden. That’s when he sees him, your dad standing by the front waiting to be seated. Matt’s not scared, but he is nervous to possibly meet your dad. He wants to make a good impression, but with the tattoos, long hair, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke, he doubts he’ll be successful in doing that.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble, watching closely for your dad’s next move.

Matt’s surprised you’re not rushing to leave, you actually look calm now, almost like you’re hoping your dad will be seated one booth over. For the first time in your relationship he senses an ulterior motive behind your actions and he doesn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

He remembers the good girl you were, the girl who always arrived to class on time, the girl who would never be caught skipping school and he wonders where this sudden rebellious nature came from. But now he gets it, this is a game to you, you want your dad to catch you skipping school with the ‘bad boy,’ you want to make your dad so upset his face turns red. Matt doesn’t know what to think about that, but if this is the game then he’d happily play along, he’d do anything for his girl.

The restaurant host sits your dad a few booths down and he situates himself in the seat directly facing you, if he looks your way at the right angle he’d easily see you. But he’s too occupied in conversation with the waitress to notice anything, ordering his food before pulling out a book.

“Here’s your food, Miss Y/n,” the waitress says with a smile, placing plates of food on the table. The waitress learned your name from all the years your family visited the restaurant, and although you appreciated the effort, you wanted to slap a hand against her mouth for giving you away. Matt’s eyes go wide, she said it really loud, did your dad hear?

“Thank you,” you reply quickly with a tight lipped smile, trying to shoo her away as fast as possible. You look back towards your dad’s booth, fully expecting him to still be turning pages in his book, but his eyes are locked on you. He’s seething, you can practically see the smoke coming from his ears.

You waited for him to get up from the booth and walk over to your table, but instead he pulls out his wallet and throws a bill on the table, grabbing his stuff and walking out. The waitress watches in confusion, and so do you. What the hell was he doing?

Matt senses the movement, straining his neck to watch your dad walk out. He suddenly becomes nervous because even though he wanted to help you piss off your parents, he also wanted to be the boyfriend parents welcomed with open arms despite his appearance.

When you finish eating, you’re walking out of the restaurant intently searching for your dad. He was sure to be lurking around the parking lot somewhere. You’re holding Matt’s hand, walking slowly to his car.

“Y/n! Where do you think you’re going?!” your dad’s voice booms from the other side of the parking lot. He waited outside until you and Matt finished your meal, not wanting to make a scene in his favorite restaurant.

You watch as he slams the car door closed, storming over to you and Matt with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is this what I send you to school for? So you can skip with.. with this?! What will people think? What will the church think? The pastors daughter off fornicating with a- with a delinquent,” your dad motions up and down Matt’s body, clearly displeased with his appearance and attire. It makes you so mad, but you don’t even get the chance to respond because your dad won’t stop talking, “You’re coming home with me right now. Say goodbye to your phone, cheerleading, and this boy because you’re never seeing them again!”

He attempts to grab your arm, but you pull away. “Y/n. Do not make this any more difficult than it already is. Let’s go!”

“No.” Your reply is short and curt, but it’s stern enough to appall your father.

“No? No?! Who do you think you are?! You’re nothing but a stupid little girl, now get in the car.” He reaches for you again, this time managing to pinch your skin slightly. “Ow, stop,” you exclaim, pushing him away from you slightly. Matt protectively moves you behind him in one quick swoop, using his body to prevent your dad from touching you again.

“Get out of the way, this is between me and my daughter.”

“Not happening,” Matt replies, towering over your dad.

“This is what you want, Y/n? A stupid hippie? He reeks of cigarettes and has tattoos, didn’t I teach you better?!” Matt is fuming at this point, your dad was the most disrespectful person he’d ever met. “Dad, just go. I’m not choosing you over Matt,” you reply, trying to stand your ground, but sounding so weak and small.

“I’m not asking you to choose me, I’m asking you to choose God. But if you want to choose this boy, then go ahead, but don’t come knocking on my door when he gets you pregnant and leaves you,” he yells. Was he kicking you out?

“What?” you ask, stepping out from behind Matt.

“You heard me, girl. Don’t bother coming home unless it’s without him.”

Without another word your dad is walking back to his car and pulling out of the parking lot, driving away and leaving you with nothing but the dust. You watch with teary eyes as his car disappears into the horizon, you never meant for it to end like this. All you wanted was a little freedom, but your rebellious actions have warranted a consequence you never anticipated.

“Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a warm hug. He’s patting your hair as you bury your face in his chest, allowing the tears to flow. “What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” you hiccup, wrapping your arms around Matt’s torso in an attempt to feel him closer.

“You can stay at my house,” he replies and he means it, he’d do anything for you. In retrospect he should’ve seen this coming from the moment he realized you were trying to piss off your parents, but he’s too far gone now to turn back. Matt’s too in love with you at this point for his own good, the only thing he can think to do is protect you.

“Are you sure?” you feel like a helpless little mouse again, except this time Matt feels like a security blanket instead of a potential threat.

“I’m sure.” Matt places a loving kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him again.

Whatever happened, you and Matt were going to get through it together. After all, Matt decided to play your game.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Shwoop here you go luv u honey bunches thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy!!

Also, I had never heard this song before but it’s def going on my playlist now & I will be searching for those tiktok edits hehehe

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[yunacoeur]

loser in love - kim taerae

a/n: i’ve been working on this for about a week now and it’s still shorter than i expected it to be. oh well, let me know if you like this! also who do i need to bribe at wakeone to give me jeonghyeon bc i miss him!!!! need him so bad

word count: 3.8k

zb1 | kim taerae, sunshine x grumpy au, angst, cute ending, communication issues trope, he fell first but she fell harder trope, college au, reader kinda sucks but they mean well <3

—

your professor assigns a two-person project in your philosophy class. it’s a paper on whether or not socrates was innocent or guilty of corrupting the youth.. or something like that. given you got a decent partner, it would take just a couple sessions at the library to get it done. you’re not even paying attention until someone walks up to you while you’re reading something on your phone. you look up to see a guy from your class you haven’t spoken to yet, though his reputation precedes him (yours must as well. he seems like he knows who you are). 

his name is taerae, you… think. he’s in the same friend group with sung hanbin and kim jiwoong, which already means he’s popular and well liked if he’s good enough to hang around with those kinds of guys. he’s always got this bright smile on his face, like a literal ray of sunshine walks through those doors every monday, wednesday, and friday. 

“hi,” he says to you, “i’m taerae. you’re my partner, right?” so you were right.

“yep,” you respond plainly. 

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off. 

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is. 

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline. 

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course. 

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact. 

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you. 

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod. 

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing. 

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave. 

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop. 

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious. 

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second. 

“i guess so? why?” 

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.” 

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

— 

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class. 

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot. 

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out. 

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels. 

 “i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful. 

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here. 

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs. 

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm. 

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy. 

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together. 

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack. 

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on. 

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort. 

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match. 

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends. 

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted. 

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts. 

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.” 

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now. 

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess. 

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away. 

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it. 

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry. 

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that. 

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself. 

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it. 

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.” 

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart. 

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt. 

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious. 

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.” 

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

oh taerae, you’re not a loser. you’re just in love.

[scarletttries]

"What's An Office Crush?" (Roman Roy Succession Request)

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Request: " What about Roman and "how do i know if i have a crush on someone?" "well, you can't stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they're around, and then you want to-wait why are you looking at me like that.?""

Word Count: 1.3k of pure fluff

Author's Note: Thank you for this very cute request, it was nice to think of something so wonderfully fluffy for our boy Roman :)

"What's An Office Crush?"

It happened every Friday morning like clockwork, from the day you'd been in the same meeting room as Roman, until the day you retired (if Waystar ever lets that happen.) He'd find you at your desk about an hour after you started, coffee in hand, pretending this is something he does for employees all the time, not a completely out of character act. He'll wheel an office chair beside yours and watch you sort through emails, telling you about his week and his weekend plans, asking about yours. Sometimes he catches himself about to ask if you want to catch lunch or dinner together on the weekend, unsure why the thought crosses his mind and dismissing it as just an empty offer to keep the conversation going.

Roman has a lot of thoughts about you that he finds confusing. Like when he realises it's only Wednesday, stomach dropping because he's sure it should be Friday and time to see you again by now. Or how every so often he'll think of something you've said and smile out of nowhere, his heart skipping a beat uncomfortably in a way he writes off as indigestion despite the obvious pattern of only happening when you sneak up on his thoughts. And since when did he did find himself staring at his friend's hands, thinking about how they'd feel holding his? Was he worried you were going to get lost in a crowd or something? Each of these dozens of fleeting thoughts about you left Roman entirely baffled by your friendship, but pulling up a chair every Friday all the same.

"He's going to be in the office today! I saw Jess setting up his office earlier." The girl from the desk next to yours was positively buzzing with excitement at the possibility of catching even a brief glance of Kendall Roy today. He hadn't been in the office much lately, which only left your smitten office-mate more frantic in her efforts to look her best for the days when they might share a charged moment and the rest would be history. By the time Roman approached your desk with his usual caffeine-filled offering, you'd relented to painting a shimmering top coat over the love-struck girl's nails, knowing what it's like to want a Roy brother and thinking she could have married Kendall in the time it's taking for Roman to make a move. She was a giggling mess of nerves as she thanked you and pranced away, probably to stand absentmindedly near a lift, in case Kendall was going past your floor alone.

"What was all that about?" Roman's lips pursed together in distaste as you waved your new friend goodbye, his mind trying to reconcile his dissatisfaction at seeing you laugh and smile with someone else.

"I was just helping with her nails - her office crush is here today, so she's got to look her best." You fought to keep your eyes on your screen as you uttered the word 'crush', sure if you looked at Roman when you said it, the blush in your cheeks would give everything away.

"What's an office crush?" He quizzed, brow furrowed as he sipped his coffee, watching your neighbour disappear through glass lined corridors. You laughed at his suspicious glare as you matter-of-factly explained,

"It's just someone at work you have a crush on. You know, to keep the day interesting? Give you a reason to put on your best dress, even though you're just going to work." Roman's eyes trailed over the shirt he'd bought especially with a Friday in mind, horrified by this new information, thinking aloud as he turned the information over in his head,

"An office crush? Sounds fun. How do I know if I have a crush on someone?" The question caught you off-guard, your gaze drifting from your keyboard to the man beside you, who suddenly looked almost sheepish, his usual cocky mask shed for a moment of genuine curiosity. You mulled it over for a moment, trying to think of how best to explain a crush without outright describing the way his coffee visits had made you feel.

"Well, usually you can't stop thinking about them. Even if you're not with them, and there's nothing around that actually reminds you of them. They just pop into your head and make you smile, even from the other side of the city." You were sure you could hear Roman gulp as you spoke, continuing all the same, praying silently that no-one was coming to mind for him.

"And you feel strange when they do pop in your thoughts, and even stranger when they're actually around. Like, you have to think extra hard about everything you do, but things with them feel effortless at the same time, and your stomach and heart don't know how to handle that so they make you feel like you're dying, but also like you're truly alive for the first time. You start to crave that feeling, more and more, until you're looking for reasons to see them just to chase that unsettling joy. And you wonder what it'd be like to be closer than you are, and what their hand would feel like in yours, and you want to--- Roman why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes had grown wider with each sweet word, the answer to the riddles that had plagued for weeks finally being spelt out to him by the very person he needed to hear it from most. As if to bolster your argument his heart hammered against his ribs, his mouth hanging open as the crushing weight of the realisation shook him to his core. His eyes darted to your hand as you turned to squarely face him, trying to read his startled expression, and hoping it didn't mean there was someone else crossing his mind in all their crush-worthy glory.

"Uhh, it's nothing. That all sounds terrible." He stumbled over his words as he tried to regain his footing, running his fingers through his slicked back hair, as if trying to physically pull himself together. "Completely unrelated, do you want to have dinner together- tonight?" It was his turn to watch you try and process some information, his nervous expression doing a lot of heavy lifting as you tried to fight back a smirk at the confession.

"I'd like that. On one condition." He was clearly intrigued, gesturing for you to keep talking, mentally prepared to sign over half his kingdom to you if you asked. "You have to tell me who your office crush is." He rolled his eyes as you stifled a laugh at the leading question, watching him trying to form the perfect sarcastic retort, but instead deciding to take your acceptance for all it was worth. He set down his coffee and slowly slid his hand across your desk, pausing for a split second as if waiting for your retreat, before happily setting his hand on yours where it remained still.

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." A fleeting, but real, smile flashed across his face as you shifted your hand to further embrace his, agreeing before nodding towards your neighbour's desk and confessing,

"It's actually the same as hers," just in time for Kendall Roy to stroll past the glass walls of your office, your colleague practically falling over herself as she tagged alongside him, neither of them noticing the laughter erupting from the two Waystar colleagues holding hands on the other side of the glass.

[chloeangelic]

Pleasers & baked ziti presents: 2 baked 2 ziti

Pleasure dom!Bouncer!Joel (ooop!) x stripper!reader

Summary: Bouncer Joel takes reader on a date, and she learns what being with a gifted ;) and talented ;) pleasure dom means. Reader has the time of her life, basically.

Warnings: Sopranos finale spoilers in the first paragraph, smut, fluff, pleasure dom!Joel, overstimulation, Joel talks reader through it AF, multiple orgasms, squirting, size kink, size difference, big dick fetish, lube, flirting, reader had shitty past partners, insecurity, more Sopranos references, praise kink, reference to phone sex and masturbation, pet names, Joel is hung AF and he knows it, oral sex (f receiving),

Word count: 3k

🍝🍝🍝🍝

The Sopranos finale is playing on her TV, and she watches intently as mob boss Tony looks up for just a moment before the screen suddenly cuts to black. She’s confused for a few seconds and her phone rings, with “Joel bouncer” popping up as the caller ID, and she picks up immediately as she hits her remote control on the arm of the couch. “What happened?” she hears Joel frantically asking, “My cable cut out and the screen just turned off”. “Mine too” she says and takes a step forward to slap the TV before she sees the credits roll and they’re both silent. “Fuuuck, dude,” she says in disbelief, “He got whacked”. “Madone” he sighs, “Sad when they go young like that”. “When they go?!” she asks in her best Johnny Sack impression, and they both laugh a little. 

“Been meanin’ to ask you somethin’ actually” he says after a brief period of silence from the both of them. “Oh?” she asks tentatively, her eyes darting around as her cellphone digs into the cartilage of her ear. “Umm,” he hears Joel mumble and clear his throat, “I was wonderin’ if I could take you out.. On a date”. She squeezes her eyes closed and grins, realizing her long time work crush was totally reciprocated. “Yes!” she says, and realizes she sounds way too excited. He chuckles a little, a low rumble on the other end making her heart flutter, “Wednesday? Pick you up at six?”. 

He’s seen her without heels plenty of times, on the way into the parking garage under the club, but he’s never seen her in anything other than lingerie and loungewear, so he can't help but smile when he sees her pop out of her house. She slams her front door shut and runs out to the truck at precisely six, wearing a yellow sundress and sneakers, flinging the door open and jumping in. “Where are we eating?” she asks immediately, eyes stuck on his, with no attempt at hiding her excitement. “You’ll see” Joel says and starts the engine, cracking up a little at her eagerness and feeling a little nervous all of a sudden. 

Despite sitting across from each other at a restaurant, in the daylight, on a Wednesday, it still, in many ways, feels like the break room on Friday night at the strip club. They talk like they always do, but instead of snacks, there’s actual dinner, and instead of glancing over at each other here and there, they’re looking straight at each other and talking, unable to get their eyes off one another, barely remembering to eat until Joel reminds both her and himself that their food is gonna get cold. She steals Joel’s fries repeatedly but refuses to order her own, shushing him when he attempts to get a hold of a waiter to put in an order for more.

She puts her hand out on the table and he grabs it, flipping it over so her hand is in his, rubbing her wrist with his thumb as he watches her blush and dart her eyes around the room. The check arrives and he slams his hand down on it before she even gets to look at it, stopping her when she attempts to offer to pay. “Fine” she rolls her eyes and giggles, insisting she’ll get it next time. He agrees, knowing he won’t let her get it next time, or any time in the future, and he’ll blame southern hospitality every time. 

“Wanna go to the beach and watch the sunset?” he asks as they walk out, “It’s a short walk from here”. He interlocks his fingers with her as they walk down the street, and her hand is completely swallowed by his, overwhelmingly big and calloused, but warm and gentle at the same time. She squeezes his hand a little as she walks, looking down and suddenly feeling a pull from behind her, realizing Joel has stopped and she’s a step ahead. 

“What are you looking at?” she asks with a giggle as she steps back to him, and he smiles as he slips his other hand around her waist and pulls her close to him before leaning down to kiss her. “Just you” he answers when he pulls back for just a second, then goes back for another kiss, a little too much tongue for being in public but exactly as much as she likes. “Okay, come on” she says as she pulls at his hand and keeps walking, “I wanna see the rest of the sunset”. 

All the benches are taken but there's a patch of grass open, and she sits down in front of him between his legs, feeling his big arms wrap around her. She looks back at him and he kisses her again, carefully grabbing the back of her head as their tongues slip around each other, and they try to keep it PG but know it’s only a matter of time before they end up at her house. 

He breaks the kiss when he realizes he’s going to get arrested for public indecency if it goes on any longer and he has to stand up, so she leans back into his chest, completely engulfed by his arms and shoulders. “I don’t know what to do with my life” she says as she looks at the sunset, and he furrows his brows a little, unsure of what to say before she continues, “Now that Sopranos is done.. What am I supposed to watch?”. “Start season one again, I g-” he starts to say before he feels her perking up. 

“Ducks!” she exclaims, interrupting him and pointing at a small group of ducks a little ways down from where they’re sitting. “It’s totally a sign” she says, turning back to him. “Sign of what?” he says, trying not to laugh. Her face suddenly turns serious, “I’m not sure.. Wanna go to my place and watch the first episode? I have the DVDs”

---

They only get five minutes into the episode before she’s in his lap, making out with heavy breaths, and she's grinding his hard bulge, feeling it rub against her just right as his hands anchor her onto his hips. She feels a bit embarrassed being so horny just from making out, but it’s been too long since she had sex with anyone and something about Joel’s touch is winding her up like crazy. She can feel that he’s big, even through his jeans, turning her on even more. 

He hears her trying to stifle her moans when he pulls her down onto his crotch, noticing that she’s tensing up. “You seem nervous, what's going on?” he says as he pulls back for a second. “Been a while” she laughs nervously. “Relax, let me take care of you” he coos and slips her dress over her head, unhooking her bra and letting her sit on his lap in only her panties, “No rushin’, baby”. She smiles and nods, runs her fingers through his hair and watches him as he traces the outside of her panties with the backs of his fingers. “May I?” he asks, and she bites her lip as she says yes. 

He throws her over his shoulder and walks to her bedroom, throwing her down onto the bed while he takes off his pants and shirt, then kneeling onto the bed, hooking his fingers into the straps of her panties, pulling them off in one motion and spreading her legs wide before inserting two fingers into her dripping heat. “You're so tight, fuck” he whispers as he sees her pussy suffocating his two thick fingers, “Need to stretch you out real well so you can take me, sweetheart”. “Why?” she asks with a perplexed expression, almost laughing while trying to reassure him, “I can take it, I've had sex before”. “Uhh..” he laughs nervously and looks down, “You'll see”. 

He withdraws his fingers and positions himself between her legs, inching backwards until his face is hovering right above her pussy, and he looks up at her for just a second before he starts licking at her clit, building up his pace gradually as she arches her back and starts tugging at his hair. She’s perplexed as she lays there, used to men just giving her a few licks before moving on, thinking it's sufficient, but now watching Joel lap her up like it’s his last meal on earth. She only lasts a few minutes before she comes, gripping her sheets as tightly as she can and moaning his name. 

“Want me to return the favor?” she asks when he lifts his face and wipes it with the back of his hand. “It’s okay,” he says with a smile, shaking his head, “Next time”. He kisses her inner thighs as she looks down at him, “Just wanna see you come, baby, makes me feel good”. She throws her head back and covers her face with her hands, hearing his low chuckle, but quickly raises her upper body and starts pulling at his waistband as he sits up, “Are you gonna fuck me now?”. He can’t help but laugh at how excited she looks, and nods with a smile before he pulls down his boxers, freeing his colossal dick from the fabric.

Her eyes widen at the sight of his size, and one glance assures her there’s no way her hand can fit around his girth. It’s by far the biggest she’s ever seen, stunningly long and so thick, reminiscent of the can of shaving cream she has in her shower, with thick veins running up to the wide, bulbous tip, already glistening with precome from going down on her. Holy fuck.

She has to have frozen completely for a while, just staring at the ridiculously large cock in front of her, as she’s startled by Joel's voice, tinged with concern. “Everythin’ alright?” he asks as he tilts her chin up with his finger and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Joel, you're joking right?” she asks as she looks up at him in disbelief, “You’re huge, how’s that gonna fit?”.

“I know what I’m doin’, don’t worry” he says with a chuckle, “We can use lube if that makes you less nervous? I don’t wanna hurt you, darlin'”. She reaches over to her nightstand, opening the little door and knocking down bottles of hand lotion and massage oil as she grabs the lube and hands it to him. He squirts out a little on his tip and strokes himself a few times to spread it evenly, the sight making her clench in arousal. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asks as he leans over and teases her opening, and she nods before laying down on her back. 

He gently nudges into her entrance and she immediately tenses up. “I’ll go real slow for you, baby” he soothes, “Tell me if anything’s uncomfortable and I’ll stop”. She takes a deep breath and tries to relax her entire body as she feels Joel stretch her out while he runs his warm hand over her thighs, not breaking eye contact other than blinking slowly or glancing down to see if she’s less tense. "I don't know if I can take all of-", she stutters as she looks up at him, so unbearably horny she’s struggling to lay still. "Yes, you can" he coos, "Just relax, I’m gonna make you feel good".

He starts kissing down her neck all the way down to her collarbone while he slides deeper and deeper with every thrust. “You okay? Want more?” he asks carefully, and she hums in response. She’s teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, spilling onto either side intermittently as she aches for him to get deeper. He bottoms out and she tenses up, feeling him pushing her cervix and her opening still burning a little. "Need a second?", he looks up and down her face with a look of slight concern as his hands slide down from her waist and start massaging her hips, “Take your time, baby”. A soft “Mhm” is all she manages to utter while she looks into his eyes through blown out pupils, feeling his heat radiate through her skin as he soothes her, his thumbs digging into her soft hips and his palms squeezing her just enough to relieve the tension. 

Her moans get louder as he picks up the pace a little, still fucking her at a slow pace, watching her breath hitch a little every time he bottoms out. “It feels so good, Joel, I-”, she gasps as he fills her up,  “You feel so goo- fuck, you’re so big”. She’s never experienced something like this before, rarely even having an orgasm before penetration most of the time, not to mention one brought on by someone patiently going down on her, followed by getting filled so well she feels it in her entire pelvis. “Your pussy feels so fucking good on my cock, so tight” he groans as he pulls his dick out enough to where only the tip is still inside her, before pushing back in and feeling her slick walls sucking him in, “That feel good for you, baby?”.

Nodding and moaning, he can tell she enjoys hearing him talk and keeps cooing at her as he thrusts a little harder. “So wet for me, takin' me so well” he murmurs and holds her hips in place, “Such a beautiful girl, you look so pretty with my cock inside you”. Her eyes roll back as she lays there, the pain completely subsided and replaced by overwhelming pleasure. “You gonna let me feel you come again, baby?” he asks and smoothes his hands down her hips. “I’m not sure I can” she says shyly. He looks genuinely confused, brows furrowed as he strokes her thighs and slows down, “Why not?”. 

“I’ve never been able to come more than once in one night, and I always have to do it myself, except right now”, she shrugs and tries to laugh a little to lighten the reality of what she’s telling him about her experiences, “People are selfish in bed.. Not you, I just-”. 

“Can I try?” he asks, and even though she’s sure it’ll be another miss, she nods. “Get on your knees and spread your legs for me, honey”, he says gently, and she hisses as he enters her again, his cock still slick from the lube, making it a little easier. He slowly starts thrusting, waiting until he hears a few whimpers before he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “Gonna be real intense for you at first, honey,”, he soothes her with his hand running up and down the swell of her ass, “But you can take it, I know you can”. 

“S-so intense, I ca-”, her sentence turns into a gasp as she forces it out, his finger nudging her exposed clit making her shake. “Does it feel good?” he asks, and feels her gently shaking in his hands. “Y-yeah” she squeaks. “Then just keep goin’, I'll stop if you tell me to stop”, his thrusts are steady and his free hand massages her flesh as it travels along her back and behind.  “It's so good but it's t-too much, Joel, I get these waves of- oh!”, she’s interrupted by her core tightening, walls clenching around his thickness. 

“There it is,” he coos as he feels her convulsing under him, “Just let go, it’s okay”. She whimpers and moans under him as he nudges her soft spot and fills her, his fingers still rubbing her clit firmly, “Ride it out, baby, I got you”. She nods in acknowledgement and tries to stay steady on her forearms, focusing on making sure her legs don’t give out. “S-so sensitive” she whines when the wave of intensity passes and she feels the pressure building right where he’s inside her. “That means you're close, baby, just relax”, he says and presses kisses along her upper back and spine, “You’ll come, don’t worry”. Mhmm is all she can muster. 

“You're so close, sweetheart, I can feel it,”, she hears him cooing, “Just a little more”. She moans his name breathlessly, noticing the waves becoming less intense and her orgasm starting to creep up her spine. “You can do it,” he whispers and feels her tightening around him, “Just breathe”. She comes with a shattering moan, collapsing under him and panting he fucks her through her climax. “Good girl” he praises and retracts his hand, stilling on her hips so he can pull her back onto his cock and start thrusting harder. 

“So, so good for me, so beautiful” he coos as he pounds her and listens to her moaning, barely able to say his full name. Still sensitive from her second orgasm, every nudge at her cervix builds the pressure in her stomach until she gasps and she can’t stop the stream of liquid pouring out of her and down Joel’s thighs. “Did so well,” he says with a smile, “Doesn’t that feel good, baby?”. Her walls stay clenched tightly as she comes, squeezing him as he slides in and out. “So tight around my cock, honey, you’re gonna make me come” he groans, and he can’t stop his spend from spurting out of him, filling her insides with an animalistic growl. 

“Does everyone you have sex with come repeatedly like that?” she carefully asks as he cleans her up. “Uhh,” he responds with a noncommittal laugh, “Most of the time, yeah”. “How?”. “I take my time with ‘em, find out what makes ‘em feel good, and do that until they can't handle anymore”, he throws the towel in her laundry hamper and lays down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close, “‘S not rocket science, angel, just bein’ attentive”. “Why do you like it?” she asks and traces her finger along his chest and shoulders, pushing a little on the bulging muscle under his tan skin. “Turns me on to know you feel good, ‘s all that matters to me, that you’re enjoyin’ yourself” he says, making her look away and giggle. 

“Call me next time you touch yourself,” he pushes her hair behind her ear as his eyes trail up and down her face, “Let me hear you again”. She blushes a little at the thought, knowing the next time will be tomorrow with this experience fresh in her mind, “Oh?”. “Mhm,” he cradles her jaw and kisses her softly, “Won't let you off the phone till you've come three times though, now that you know how”. “Shut up” she says and paws at his chest, making him pull her closer. “I’ll tell you what to do, baby, don't worry” he murmurs in her ear.

@pascalisbaby @silkiers

[georgie-weasley]

Spontaneous pt. 2 G.W. x reader

Warnings: One swear word, talk of self loathing, Fred and Lee Jordan shenanigans

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: George finally pulled it together and asked you on a date but it had some bumps along the way.

Masterlist Part 1

The week passed by painfully slowly. On Sunday, the day after George plucked up the courage to ask you out, he woke up thinking it was Saturday. He was very disappointed to learn he was wrong. Monday was slow but they usually are. Tuesday felt like Monday. Wednesday was only good because George spent his free period pranking Filch which happened to be one of his favorite ways to pass the time. He thought Thursday was Friday and he spent the whole day pouting every time he was reminded it wasn’t Friday. When it finally was Friday, George couldn’t sit still. He was sweaty and jumpy and got on every one of Fred’s nerves.

Now that it was Saturday, George paced around the courtyard, checking his watch just about every minute. 7:58. Everyone would be leaving in just two minutes and he couldn’t see you anywhere. You couldn’t have gotten lost. He knew for a fact your parents made sure you were always on time so you couldn’t have been late. You were standing him up. His heart dropped and tears pricked in the corner of his eyes. You said you wanted to come with him, in fact you said that you would love to join him but maybe it was all an act. You couldn’t tell him no to his face so you let him believe he had a shot with you only to leave him alone and embarrassed. With his head down, George started walking back to the castle when someone rammed into him.

George and the human bludger toppled to the ground, George landing harshly on his rear end. The attacker fell onto him, breaking their fall. Lucky them. With a glare and a flurry of curses ready to spring out, George looked up at the person who sent him crashing to the ground only for his anger to die immediately as he saw you. “George, I’m so sorry. I was so worried you’d leave without me or think I had forgotten you that I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

George blushed and snorted. “Why would you think that?” He smiled and once you got to your feet, he stood up as well. He offered his arm out to you and as you linked arms, he led you to join the crowd of students who had just begun their walk to Hogsmeade. “Why were you running late?” He was curious and maybe you would have brought it up on your own later but he had to know.

“I was reading a letter from my parents. I just received their response about me becoming a healer.” Your face fell for a split second before your smile came back. Part of you hoped George wouldn’t notice but another part of you wanted him to see. As fate would have it, George is very aware of anything concerning you. He saw your brief frown and when you smiled to cover it up, he didn’t see the spark in your eyes. They were not happy.

“They didn’t like it, did they?” He whispered, watching his feet as you walked.

“No, they didn’t. I was going to tell you later so I didn’t bring the mood down.” You pulled your arm away from his; after that rather disappointing topic, linking arms felt too intimate.

George felt the warmth leave his arm and he almost grabbed you, tempted to put it back. “I’m sorry. Let’s go to Honeydukes and get your mind off of it.” While he wanted you to focus on something else for a while, George was going to need the distraction as well. It was very possible your relationship with your parents could have been ruined all because of him. If that was true, he would never forgive himself.

The walk to Honeydukes was far too quiet. You didn’t say much and George wasn’t sure what to say. He already messed up when he asked you about the letter from your parents and he feared anything else would ruin the date completely. The store itself was the exact opposite of your walk with George. It was full of bright and colorful candies and people all talking excitedly about the unlimited sweets they planned to buy. Two men walked in not long after the two of you did and one of them looked shockingly similar to George. He was about the same height and covered in freckles. George would have bet money that he also had brown eyes but they were covered by sunglasses. He was a ginger as well but he had a mustache that looked like it was falling off. His friend also had sunglasses and a mustache but George could have sworn it was upside down. He looked a lot like Lee Jordan. He turned away from them and smiled a little at you. The environment seemed to neutralize the awkwardness between you and George, thankfully.

As you both wandered the aisles, George pointed out some of the candies that he preferred over the others. Of course he would eat just about anything there. “Can I buy you something?” He asked as he stood next to you. You had been looking at your favorite candy when he came up to you. If he was being honest, he shouldn’t buy you candy. Him and Fred were trying to save as much money as they could to try and save up for their products and eventually a store. It also was common knowledge that the Weasley family did not have much spending money so really, George should not have offered. That didn’t stop him though. He wanted to be the perfect date and that meant getting you some candy.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to.” You shook your head, trying to convince him not to buy you anything. It wasn’t like your parents didn’t have money. They were important people in the ministry and you never struggled for money. You could get your own candy and really, you could get George some as well.

“I insist.” Without waiting for you, George gathered a handful of packages and moved on to a different part of the store. After more time, George had his arms full of candy and his heart full of fear that he wouldn’t be able to pay for it all. As you both approached the counter, George set down the snacks and rummaged through his pockets. He counted up the coins and his heart dropped when he saw he was a Sickle short. His face burned bright red as he tried to do some quick mental math to get the total down when you slipped the silver coin into his hand. He only turned a darker shade of red at that. He didn’t want to use your money but he didn’t want to fight with you while the bored man behind the counter stared at him.

With the candy paid for, George gathered it back into his arms and just about sprinted out of the store. He kept walking, leaving you to run after him. He felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. He should have counted his money before they came into the store so he knew just how much he could buy you. He should have only got some for you and none for him. His eyes widened as a thought seemed to smack him right in the face. He wanted to take you for a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks before the day was over but now he would have no money to do so.

“George!” You yelled, grabbing his arm. Lost in thought and self hate, George had begun walking toward the Shrieking Shack and almost moved past the fence blocking it from the public. He skidded to a stop. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least five minutes. What’s wrong?”

Did you really not know? How could you not have figured this out on your own? He didn’t answer and instead he turned back to look at the haunted building. What was he supposed to say? I’m mad because I spent all of my money getting you some sweets and now I can’t afford to get you anything else because my family is broke. Not to even mention you had to give me some of your money you no doubt got from your super rich parents.

“I didn’t mean to George. You insisted on buying me the candy.” He said all that out loud didn’t he?

He slowly turned back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, it's just embarrassing to have to use your money.”

You moved to stand next to him, leaning against the fence. “I don’t think you should be embarrassed. Your father gets to spend his days doing what he loves. It’s not great that it doesn’t make him much money but he’s happy. Happiness is what matters most right?”

“Yeah but being happy versus being able to afford books and clothes for your kids is very different.” George loved his parents and he knew they spent a lot of money taking care of them but that didn’t make it hurt any less when he saw Ron wearing ratty old uniforms or Ginny using books that had been used so many times they were hardly holding together. It never got easier to see his friends have everything he wanted. It would never get easier.

You carefully took the candy out of his arms and shoved it into your bag before taking his hand in yours. “I’m sorry your family struggles and I’m sorry it affects you like this but please know, I am more than happy to spend my money on you. You’re right when you said my parents are ‘super rich’. They make more than enough money at the ministry which is why I don’t mind spending some of it, or a lot of it, on you.”

He opened his mouth to argue but the words died in his throat when he saw the pleading look on your face. It was your money and you would spend it how you wanted and he would just have to live with the fact that you want to spend it on him.

“Now, how about you let me spend some of this money on you and treat you to that butterbeer you planned on getting me?”

George laughed and nodded. “Only if you let me get you one next time.”

“Deal.”

---

The two of you laughed loudly at George’s story while you were tucked away into a corner booth. Something about promising that you like to spend money on him made George relax and you were finding out he’s even more fun when relaxed, if that was possible. You crammed yourself into the spot next to him and he had his arm thrown around your shoulders. He was perfect in every way.

“So you guys turned Ron’s teddy bear into a spider and that’s why he’s so scared of them? That’s horrible.” You laughed.

“Only a little. It was our job as older brothers to mess with him, we just didn’t know it would scar him for life. Oh well, it builds character.”

You only rolled your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder, pretending to ignore the way his body stiffened and his breathing stopped as you did. Despite the rocky start to the date, it easily became the best date of your life. George was funny and cute and probably the sweetest guy you ever spent time with. He was the kind of guy that would break his back if it would make you smile. You never wanted the day to end. Of course, it had to and with the warm glow coming in from the windows, it was time to head back to the castle. That didn’t make you move however. You were planning on staying here until the absolute last second.

“George,” you whispered, “thank you for asking me out. I’ve had a really great time.”

“Me too. I should have asked you out years ago.” His heart pounded in his chest as you moved to look at him, your face inching closer to his. He glanced down at your lips hoping he would get to learn if they really were as soft as he imagined. When you were just a centimeter away, a loud crash caused you both to spring apart. Across the way, the two men from before sat; the ginger was clutching onto his mug that had toppled over and now laid on its side, liquid steadily spilling out. Both of them quickly looked away from the two of you.

Moment officially ruined, you separated yourself from him and sighed. “We should probably get back to the castle.”

---

The walk back to the castle couldn’t have been more different than the walk to Hogsmeade. You two were laughing and holding hands and George seemed to have a permanent blush on his face. It was wonderful but the letter from your parents was in the back of your mind. He needed to know what it said but you were so worried it would ruin everything. In the courtyard, you stopped George even though all you wanted was to ignore the letter. “George, there’s something I should tell you.”

He stood in front of you and clung to your hand. You looked so serious and afraid of whatever it was you needed to talk to him about. He was getting scared now. George nodded, not trusting his voice.

“When I told my parents about what you said, that I should chase my happiness and all of that, they were not happy at all. They were disappointed and told me I was throwing away everything we had been working towards since I was born.” You took a deep breath and looked at your feet. “They said you were a bad influence and that I need to stay away from you. You were brainwashing me into thinking I wanted something that I didn’t want.”

Well shit. George told himself that he would never forgive himself if you ruined your relationship with your parents because of him. Let eternal self hatred begin. “I never meant to make them disappointed in you or mess this up for you.” He swallowed thickly as his heart broke. He was sure this was you telling him that whatever you had together needed to end. It would only make sense that it needed to. They were your parents, the people that brought you into the world and raised you and loved you. George was just… George. He was no one to throw away a good relationship with your parents for. There would be other guys that made you happy that your parents would approve of. Someone better and more deserving of you than George. He pulled his hand away from you but he didn’t get far.

Your grip on his hand only tightened as he tried to take it away. “I know you didn’t mean to. I don’t blame you, at all.” You stepped closer to him and put your other hand on his cheek. “You aren’t brainwashing me, you just helped me see that I would never be happy doing what they want me to do. So maybe they’re right and you are a bad influence but I happen to enjoy it.”

George’s eyes widened at your words, his heart mending itself. “I enjoy being your bad influence.”

“Good because I’m not letting you get away from me that fast.” You grabbed his face in your hands and surged forward, planting your lips on his. George didn’t move and for a moment you feared he had a heart attack or stopped breathing but he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your lips melded together perfectly and you were certain he was the one you were destined to be with.

“Hell yeah Georgie!” A shout from across the courtyard forced George to pull away from you. Standing not far from you two stood the two men he had seen everywhere all day. The redheaded was jumping and cheering while his friend did the worst dance George had ever seen. As the one jumped, his mustache and sunglasses fell to the floor. Fred.

For a short moment, everyone stood frozen before George spoke. “Five…”

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

“Giving them a head start. Four…”

Fred and Lee took off running, glasses and mustaches left behind. George smiled and turned back to you, planting a quick and soft kiss on your lips. “I have to go beat up my brother and best friend but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow and the rest of your life George. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh my, whatever shall I do.”

Tags: @elijahslover

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy's usefulness to the company is called into question.

Word Count: 3,587

Notes: Warnings for depictions of slut shaming (sort of).

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 11: Useful

Her fingers twitched, thumb rubbing idly at her rings while she listened to Isiah brief them on what their boys had found during their stakeouts of the flat where Clara had told them some of the Italians were hiding out.

“It’s Alessio. We’ve seen him come in and out a couple of times. From what we can gather, it looks like he has two guards with him. His wife stays there too, but on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, she leaves from eleven in the morning to three in the afternoon to have lunch with friends, go to the salon, and help facilitate this book and knitting club she’s a part of. That’s when Alessio and the boys will call on Elizabeth or other whores and have them come over to the flat.”

“Are there any children?” Lucy asked, gaze focused on the opposite wall of the office. Today was a Wednesday. It was a little past noon. 

“No. Alessio and his wife don’t have any. Not so sure about the guards, but if they do, they aren’t staying with them.”

“And the wife leaves at those same times? Every day?” Tommy prompted. 

“Yes.”

“Good,” Lucy could already feel the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. “Well done, Isiah, you’ve done a good job here.”

Tommy jerked his chin towards the door. “You can go.”

Isiah nodded to them both. “Family meeting in ten minutes, right?”

“Yeah, we’ll be gathering in the kitchen. Feel free to put some tea on, while you wait,” Lucy stood from where she’d been leaning with her back propped up against her desk, arms crossed over her chest.

“Thanks.”

“And don’t mention this to anyone else yet!” Tommy called after him. 

She watched the kid duck out the door, weaving around the desks in the betting shop to make his way towards the kitchen. When she was sure that he was out of earshot, she turned to Tommy, and was promptly met with stern eyes and pursed lips. 

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard what I’ve got to say yet!” she protested. He sighed, pulling off his glasses and tossing them onto the pile of papers atop his desk, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Tommy,” she strode towards him, placing both palms flat on the smooth wood surface, leaning forward across it. With her standing and him still seated in his chair, she was actually taller than him for once. “This is part of what you hired me for in the first place.”

“That was before we had others who can do the killings for us. Besides,” he folded his hands together. “I usually only sent you after ordinary people, not trained soldiers of the Sicilian mafia.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You think that I can’t handle them?”

“It’s not a problem of if you can handle them or not, love,” he said quietly, and when he looked up, she was struck by the look in his eyes, teetering on pleading. “I can’t lose you.”

She took a deep breath, trying hard to remember Grace’s words from her dream:

The idea of losing you is probably terrifying.

“I know,” she said, gently as she could, reaching across the desk to take his face in her hands. “I know you worry, but I will be fine. I promise. I’ll take some of our boys with me, if that’ll make you feel better, just please…please let me do this, Tommy. There’s only three of them. If I leave now, I could be done with all of them maybe even before the family meeting is over.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, voice hoarse, staring up at her destitutely. “There’s no reason that it has to be you. The Golds can deal with them just as easily.”

Her lips parted, stuttering slightly at the realization that she did not actually have a good answer for him. She couldn’t say why it was so important that she be the one to go after Alessio. Or who it was exactly she was trying to prove something too. Maybe herself. Maybe the rest of the family. Maybe it was just her fucking pride getting in the way of things; insisting that she was still top-dog when it came to this kind of work, even though she hardly actually partook in it anymore. An insistence to prove that she wasn’t rusty–which she wasn’t, by the way. She still kept up with sparring and shooting and throwing knives. She was just as tough and capable as all the rest of them. Even Aberama Gold and his far-reaching reputation for savagery. 

Before she could even begin to think of an answer, she heard the doors bang open and then the loud hum of boisterous discussion as people started to arrive. She pulled back, away from the desk, looking over her shoulder to see Aberama and Bonnie walking side by side towards the kitchen, chatting to each other while Polly and Ada trailed in behind them. She looked back at Tommy.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

He must have heard the dejection in her voice, because he looked up sharpy, brows drawing together. “Lucy…”

But she was already making for the door, yanking it open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. Behind her, she heard him sigh, chair scraping against the floorboards as he pushed it back to stand and follow her. 

She went directly to the kitchen, giving a small nod to Polly and Ada as a hello. Isiah and Bonnie were talking by the window, and she had to sidestep around Aberama to grab a teacup to fill from the kettle Isiah had already made up. 

“Miss. Winters,” Aberama greeted in that slow drawl of his, watching her as she poured the tea, swirling it idly in her cup and blowing on it before taking a sip. 

“Mr. Gold,” she acknowledged politely.

He shifted, leaning an arm against the counter. Turning, she spotted Tommy talking with Polly and Ada near the door to his office, hands shoved deep into his pockets. When his eyes darted to hers, she looked hastily away. 

She wasn’t mad at him, not really. Just…put out. 

Okay, fine. She was mad at him. But only a little. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Miri and Mercy Lovell, would you?” Aberama asked, pulling her from her musings. She started at the names. It had been a long time since she’d heard either of them. He smiled at her kindly, cocking his head. “I ask because you look like them. Similar shade of hair, petite…”

“Miri is my aunt.”

He nodded. “I thought as much. You’re Genevieve’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Lucy frowned, putting down her teacup. “You knew my mother?”

“Not really. Her family and mine would often bump into each other at the fairs when we were in Wales. And then she left, off into the city with your father. I still see Miri every once in a while.”

“How is she?”

“She’s alright. Mercy’s become quite impressive. She’s got to be one of the best marksmen I’ve ever seen. Does a whole show around it at the fairs.”

“Good aim runs in the family,” she murmured, suddenly swept up in memories of summers spent with Miri and her cousins in the countryside, Mercy teaching her to shoot a revolver and throw knives with near-flawless accuracy. Her and Mercy teaming up in boxing matches against Mercy’s brothers. It was always her favorite time of the year, and while she’d adored all of her cousins, Mercy had always been the one she was closest with. 

An ache pinched deeply in her chest, not quite homesickness–the caravans had never been her home, after all–but close.

“Did you ever work in the fairs?” Aberama asked curiously. A few more people were starting to filter in, Jeremiah stepped inside, moving to talk with Isiah where Finn had already joined him and Bonnie. Johnny Dogs’s voice boomed from the doorway as he greeted Tommy enthusiastically. 

“Sometimes. Fortune telling, mostly. I wanted to be a contortionist, was practicing for a whole damn year to be one, actually, but Mum said no after I almost broke my neck.”

He chuckled. “Pity. I hear from Miri that the contortionists are some of the most popular acts at the moment.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t all a waste. I’m still quite flexible. It’s come in handy from time to time.”

Aberama chuckled. “I’m sure it does,” he eyed her for a moment. “You look so much like her, in the right light.”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

She looked down. It hadn’t been an uncommon statement, when she was younger. All the women in her family on her mother’s side looked the same: dark red, curly hair, big eyes, and petite, curvy figures. Her mother had been prettier than her, though. For one, she hadn’t been covered neck to toe in faded scars, and for another, she had a mane of deep red curls that fell to the small of her back, and big, doe brown eyes. She didn’t smile often, but when she did, dimples appeared in her cheeks.

Aberama took a step towards her. “There’s something you ought to know…”

“Right!” Tommy’s voice booming throughout the kitchen had everyone, even Aberama, silencing and turning their attention to him. Polly, Ada, Linda, and Arthur all took seats at the table while everyone else gathered in close in the cramped space. Glasses of whiskey were passed around. Lucy took the one Ada offered her thankfully, shooting one last curious look at Aberama, making a mental note to enquire further about what he had been meaning to tell her after the meeting was over.

 Tommy’s eyes swooped across everyone, taking mental tally and ensuring that all were present. “Lizzie’s not here; Ada tells me that she’s dealing with some sort of paperwork disaster over at the other office and won’t be making it, so we’ll continue without her. First off, a commendation, for Arthur. He killed two Changretta men who broke into one of our factories. Every life taken by us from the enemy side should be considered a victory. So I propose, to start off this meeting, that we drink a toast, to Arthur and his good fortune.”

Everyone raised their glass while Arthur mumbled bashfully. Tommy stared at him intensely, the entire operation clearly an attempt to extend an olive branch regarding the recent conflict over opening up the hit on Luca. It certainly seemed to achieve its goal in getting him at least partially back in Arthur’s good graces, based on the way he smiled slightly at him.

“Next item of business, after a vote taken during a meeting of the board members, we have agreed to put out an official bounty for Luca Changretta. I want word to go out today. This bounty would be up for collection for you as well, Mr. Gold,” he addressed Aberama directly, reaching into his pocket. “Should you or your son deliver Luca dead or alive to us, you will be rewarded,” he passed to Aberama the enlarged photograph of Luca from Alessio’s wedding pictures. Lucy watched Arthur from the corner of her eye; he was looking down at the table and scowling, Linda’s hand curling around his shoulder. Her self-righteous face was tight with anger, though Lucy couldn’t imagine what she had to be upset about regarding the bounty being extended to Bonnie and Aberama.

“Item number three: the betting shop needs–”

“Fuck the betting shop!” Linda cut him off, and the whole room went dead silent. Arthur’s head snapped up from where it had been bowed, eyes staring at his wife in wide shock. 

“I want to know what you’re planning to do about the man who gave Arthur up at the factory,” she demanded, back straight, head tilted up in that stuck-up way that pointed her nose at an angle towards the ceiling. She met Tommy’s icy-cold gaze straight on, fearless. 

She had balls, Lucy could at least give her that. 

Tommy wetted his lips, taking his time in answering Linda’s question. Lucy suspected that the delay in him speaking was half out of pettiness, and half because her outburst had genuinely surprised him.

“We are still conducting an investigation into who may have been responsible for letting the Italians into the factory. We’ve eliminated a number of suspects, so far, but until we are sure who it was–”

“Nothing!” Linda flung her hands up into the air, looking around as if expecting others to back her up. “You mean that you are going to do nothing about the man who set my husband up to die–”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “That is not what I said, Linda.”

“But it’s what’s happening, isn’t it!?” she screeched, yanking her arm away from Arthur when he tried to grab it in an attempt to get her to calm down, rising to her feet. “Too busy chasing after the big prize of Luca Changretta’s head on a fucking platter, too busy making sure that your precious company doesn’t lose a single pound in profits to worry all too much about the fact that the man who set up your brother to be murdered is still walking around and could come for him again at any moment!” Her lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter, right? You’ve already gotten one brother killed, so what’s another one to add to the pile, right?”

Tommy flinched, a movement so small Lucy doubted that it was noticed by anyone but her; and yet it was there, as was the flicker of deep grief, guilt, and hurt that swirled up past the layers of his armor in his eyes. It was only there for but a microsecond, but she saw it. And its presence caused protectiveness to flare within her. 

“Linda, sit down,” Lucy ordered, taking a step forward.

Linda rounded on her, eyes alight with fury. The cross on the chain around her neck swayed against her chest with the movement, light reflecting off of it, and Lucy fought back the urge to cringe away and hiss at the sight of it. 

“Nobody asked for your opinion, you…you slut!”

Lucy’s brows flew up at the insult. Not that she didn’t already know what Linda thought about her, but she hadn’t exactly expected her to verbalize it at a meeting with everyone present. But then again, she hadn’t expected her to start in on a verbal attack of Tommy, either. 

“Hey!” Tommy barked, voice so loud it made Ada cringe uncomfortably in her seat. But not Linda. No, Linda kept her eyes focused solely on Lucy, her attention diverted momentarily away from Tommy and onto her. 

“I mean, what do you even do for this company, anyway? Other than follow Thomas around like a lost little puppy all day.”

“Linda, that’s enough,” Tommy growled, voice low and dangerous. 

“Linda, please,” Arthur said gruffly, still trying to pull her back down into her seat.   

Lucy stared into her challenging eyes, fighting back the sudden urge to slap her. Stupid woman; she’d spent, what? One day in the betting shop, and now thought that she understood how everything was run? Fucking hell. 

With a shake of her head, she slammed her glass of whiskey down onto the counter and made for the door, the others that were in her way shuffling hastily to let her shoulder past them. She heard Tommy call her name, but ignored him. She had promised him that she would try her best to play nice, and if she stayed there much longer, she was more and more likely to break that promise. 

Her footsteps thundered down the street, boots clicking audibly against the cobblestones while she walked. A particularly dark look must have found its way onto her face, because several people hurried to get out of her way as she passed. 

Her foul mood was not helped by the acknowledgement that at least a large chunk of her anger stemmed from the fact that Linda wasn’t entirely wrong. 

Sometimes it did feel like all she did was follow Tommy around. Yes, she helped to keep track of things, helped with paperwork, took notes on all his meetings–which, by the way, they didn’t use all that often because Tommy had the memory of a fucking elephant–and offered insight and ideas, but there were times when she couldn’t help but think that, at least without factoring in Tommy’s emotions towards her, the company would be fully capable of functioning just fine without her. 

Sighing, she pulled her cap out of her pocket, pulling it on over her hair. Stuffing her hands deep into her pockets, she kept her head lowered as she walked, so it wouldn’t be too obvious to anyone that passed her by that she was sulking. 

When she got to her destination, she hesitated momentarily. Tommy would be upset with her, if she stepped past the threshold of the doors she was currently staring at. After all, she had said they’d talk about it more later. He’d probably be agitated that she just went off without any backup and not even the go-ahead from him. 

What do you even do for this company, anyway?

“Fuck it,” she mumbled under her breath, and started to climb the steps of the Midland hotel. 

“Can I help you?” the receptionist smiled sweetly, when she approached the counter. 

“I need to speak with Billy. Immediately,” Lucy kept her voice low, pulling out a cigarette while she waited. He came bustling down hastily but a few moments after the receptionist called for him, a little out of breath.

“Miss. Winters, my apologies, we weren’t expecting you–”

“I need to speak with Clara,” she said, pulling her watch from her pocket to check the time. Almost one. 

“She just got in, but I was about to send her off to work…”

“This won’t take long.”

“Alright, I’ll send her up to your room–”

“No, I won’t be staying. Take me down to where the girls get ready.”

Billy’s face went a little ashen. “We don’t normally allow clients into that part of the hotel.”

“Billy, you are testing my fucking patience,” she snapped, and he winced, looking around the lobby anxiously. 

“Very well. This way.”

She followed him through a side door and down a winding set of stairs, suppressing a chill as they traveled lower and lower into the bowels of the hotel. When they finally got to the end of the stairs, they were greeted by a narrow hallway. Billy took her to a door labeled with a placard reading: Dressing Room. Shooting her a nervous glance over his shoulder, he knocked once. 

“Ladies?” he called. There was movement on the other side of the door, and then it opened with a creak of complaint. 

“Yes, Billy?” Maria poked her dark head of hair out, brow raised curiously. She had a forever enduring sparkle of mischief in her eyes, and lips that seemed to always be settled into a small, knowing smile. 

“Maria, is Clara still there?”

Maria opened her mouth to answer, but a softer voice spoke up behind her.

“Yes?” a moment later, Clara had appeared behind Maria’s shoulder, a tube of lipstick clutched in her hands. Billy looked at Lucy. 

“Leave us.”

He hesitated, and she rolled her eyes, reaching into her coat and holding out a roll of bills to him. He took it tentatively, pocketing it with a small nod.

“Girls,” he said to Clara and Maria. “Miss. Winters,” he smiled at her uncomfortably. She waited until he was climbing the stairs, and then turned to the girls.

“Can I come in?” 

They looked at each other, then Maria stepped aside, holding the door open for her. She stepped in, glancing around while Maria shut the door behind her. 

Small vanities were lined against the right and left walls. Some were neat and spotless in their organization, while others were messy and chaotic, nearly spilling over onto the vanities next to it. Makeup and hair-styling products were stored on most of them, and several racks, nearly bursting with clothing, were pushed up against the wall opposite the door. 

“Which one is Elizabeth’s?” Lucy asked. Clara pointed to one of the messier vanities. Lucy went over to it, picking up a palette of makeup that rested atop the general chaos of items tossed upon the vanity. She set it back down, checking her watch again. 

One-thirty.

“Is Elizabeth working today?”

“Yes. She’s upstairs with a client now,” Maria said.

“You’re sure she’s upstairs?”

They both nodded.

Turning back to Elizabeth’s vanity, Lucy touched the coat hanging off the back of the chair lightly. It would be a little big on her, but that would be to her advantage. Her eyes skimmed around the dressing room, taking in the wigs stored on mannequin heads on a shelf. She reached into her coat pocket, drawing out another wad of bills, counting them out and then splitting them between Maria and Clara. 

“I’m going to need you two to help me with some things. And then I’m going to need you to keep Elizabeth away from that flat for the rest of the day. Alright?”

Clara’s eyes widened a small fraction. They nodded. Lucy turned back to the vanity, pulling off her cap and brushing a few locks of her distinctive red hair off of her forehead. 

“Okay. Grab me that wig, over there.” 

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday and Thursday

I made a graphic for them I do these so often. 😆

This one will be a bit different from other WIP Wednesday. I’m going to give a brief overview of each one of my WIPs. (There are a lot, not all of them are on Tumblr, I’ll mention which ones are.)

I was tagged by @secretelephanttattoo @trulybetty @fhatbhabie ❤️ and @rhoorl I think. I feel like I mostly got it right. 😂

“This is the Neighborhood Din” My modern Din Djarin AU with a human Grogu (affectionately called Little G). Three chapters are up so far and four is almost done. I’m having a lot of fun writing it (outside of chapter two - Domestic Violence warning on that one.) I’m introducing different Star Wars characters each chapter and their interconnected relationships while keeping with my silly brand of humor. Know that Johnnie Mae is the MVP.

“Weddings 101 with Dieter” A series near and dear to me as with this series I really doubled down on writing Dieter Bravo overall as well as my delusional belief that I am somehow a comedy writer. Maya and Dieter are a hot mess, I love Daisy, Dieter’s trusty goat and that this series is the crazy ridiculous rom-com I wanna see. ❤️ Also I made Oscar Isaac have imaginary beef with Dieter and am having way too much fun writing it. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine loves this series and I love her for loving it. 🥰

“The Lake Between Us” My sleepy, dreamy series with Ezra. He has an airboat, he has a house across of the OFC’s on a lake. He cooks gumbo in a tank top. This series was inspired by Ezra cooking (I dunno why) and turned into an eight part series on two people growing closer. There’s two interludes (I’m scrapping the third one - thanks to @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for beta reading filth. This is the one time it doesn’t fit lol)

“Only Pieces of You Mr. Morales” My angsty sensual (also has a lot of sex because it’s Frankie) short series I created on a whim last week. I finally was able to write for Frankie this year outside of prompts. 👀 I describe different parts of Frankie’s body each Friday. I put out (pfft) two drabbles on Fridays. It’s a friends to friends to benefits to them figuring it all out. Maybe because I put Frankie through the wringer to much is why when I put Frankie drabbles in @i-own-loki ‘s box, she thinks I’m harming the man. 😭 I love Frankie I swear!

“Our Journey Across the Star Ocean” My fluffy Din series where you and Din (especially) are super awkward, very sweet and idiots. Three tropes I love. I have two parts and I’m working on a third. I’m not sure how long this one will be. On the shorter side for sure. Fluff for @grogusmum and @604to647

“Come away with me Angel” This is my Benny series I finally tossed out into the world. There’s only one part but I am working on part two. Friends to lovers and one house I guess as far as tropes go. I see to have a thing with cooking because so far in chapter two Benny is cooking shirtless. @rhoorl and @musings-of-a-rose we’ll need to discuss this.

“Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” This is @maggiemayhemnj ‘s brain child. She told me I made up a genre of post apocalyptic fluff so we’re going to have more. The stuff refers to darker topics because it is an apocalypse, but 80% fluff. I’ll have emoji indicators.

Unposted Planned Series:

“A Safe Place for Us” is what happens when I think on an obsessive baby daddy Dieter I wrote for a spring prompt because what else goes with a brick house am I right?! No? Well, it’s what we’re getting. Eventually. After Weddings 101. They’re not connected, different OFC and I have all sorts of silly titles.

“Therapy for the Well Adjusted” If there’s someone who is going to be put through the wringer, it’s Marcus Pike. He has an incident at work where he needs to take some time off. Because he’s Pike, he seeks out a therapist. After a miss or two, he vibes with Dr. Mint. The OFC has a longer road to therapy met with therapists whose vibes are way off and also no one needs to touch your Cakatoo. Ever. Not a euphemism an actual bird. Eventually, the OFC finds Dr. Julip. Both doctors share a practice. Nerdie style hijinks ensue. Inspired by a Marcus mini-series I made in my Spring Prompts and my own experiences with therapy.

“So Fairy not Jedi?” Din and Grogu meet a fairy warrior. Possibly might be a soulmate AU too? Din’s having all the AUs Working title just vibes. Expect it to be weird, wild and hopefully wonderful.

“It’s not all bad right cariño?” Javier Peña, the elusive, owner of aviators and the amplifier behind them. I had thoughts about him being in an AU in Loredo post Narcos as a sheriff and his interactions with a lawyer from the DA’s office Thalia. Since I haven’t given Javier much other than major angst, pickles, guava and a lot of fingers (the former DEA agent knows what I mean), I can give him a little bit of silly and something sweet. Also just vibes, but I have bullet points. Dancing and yellow jasmine.

“Ezra as a sex worker” Bullet points. Sometimes you just have him hold you, sometimes he talks the entire time but it’s fine because he sounds like sipping warm bourbon while sitting on an over stuffed chair with your feet propped up and it’s massaging all your limbs. Ezra does wonder why you don’t actually come here for sex but he’s getting paid for his time so he can keep that to himself. Until he’s in one of his rambles and asks. A cascade of events occur and he’s living in your house later. Still cooking because I always want Ezra to cook. Pfft.

Feel free to send me an ask or drop a comment about any of these. I think about them all way too much. 🤣🤣

As I was asked by @for-a-longlongtime earlier this week when talking her ear off about something, “How many words do you even write per week?!” 🙃🙃 I have no idea. It’s a lot. Maybe 2-3k but given what I post per week that feels low. It’s a compulsion at this point.

We’re at the end, thanks for reading this far! 💜💜💜

NPT: @undercoverpena-fics @megamindsecretlair @saturn-rings-writes @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @schnarfer @wannab-urs @connectioneverywhere @inept-the-magnificent @covetyou @gemmahale @goodwithcheese @lady-bess @morallyinept @trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @alltheotps @slippinninque @magpiepills @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @laurfilijames @yorksgirl @julesonrecord @djarinmuse @paulmescal-s @tinytinymenace @pedroshotwifey

[janicho88]

When It All Falls Apart -Chapter 7

Pairing- Jensen x ex!Padalecki Reader

Word count- 4,826

Warnings- Some language. Dealing with a breakup. Brief discussion of sex. Angst, If I missed something let me know!

A/N-Sorry for the last chapter, but you all had to know it was coming. A little off canon, SPN ended after 10 years. We still got all the characters in during that time though. Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for your help with this. You two are amazing!!

Summary-Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.

Series Masterlist

Thankfully everyone left you alone the day after you returned home.  You spent the day in your room curled up in the bed watching movies.  Alternating between Hallmark channel and other rom coms which had you arguing with the tv about how relationships really work out.

Tom brings you some goldfish crackers that evening when he thought you might be hungry.  You thank him and turn on Disney when he curls up next to you.

“You won’t let me down, will you little man?”

He shakes his head and the crackers he’s chewing spill from his mouth.

“You are just going to make a mess in my bed.”

He nods to that one.  With a shake of your head, you start to tickle him.  He ends up falling asleep in your room.  Jared comes by later and moves him to his own. 

Wednesday starts out much the same, but Gen won’t let you stay holed up in your room all day 

long. 

“Up and at ‘em lady, let’s go.  Get moving.”

“I’m good right here.  I don’t have anything I’m supposed to do anyways.”

“You had yesterday to lay around, come on.  You need to actually leave this room today,” she keeps pushing you.  “Go take a shower, or a bath even, that will help get you going.

With a groan you give in and get out of bed. Heading into the attached bathroom Gen calls after you,  “Tom and I will be waiting for you downstairs to have breakfast.”

After showering, you throw on some shorts and a t-shirt and put your wet hair up in a bun. You don’t want to make the pregnant woman wait too long for breakfast.  

Coming down the steps you hear her and Tom in the kitchen, sounds like he is trying to help her with breakfast.  Entering the kitchen you see spilled orange juice on the table, and a bowl of spilled blueberries. Gen is taking a wet shirt off of Tom.  Grabbing a washcloth you start cleaning up the table, while she takes care of him. 

Jared is already gone for a meeting, so it’s just the three of you sitting down for breakfast once everything is clean.

“What are you taking this weekend?” Gen asks you.

“Taking where?”

“Are you still joining us for the Fourth of July trip,  with the rest of your family?”

It takes you a minute to wrap your brain around what she said.  “I forgot we are already at the start of July this weekend.  I’m not sure what I’ll bring.  Do you already have yours planned out?”

“We do, Tom and I are going to go pick some fruits and vegetables Friday so they are fresh for the weekend.  We’re going to do a veggie tray and fruit pizza.  Jare talked to Jeff, they ordered some meat for the weekend.  One of us will pick it up before we leave on Saturday.  That way your parents don’t have to deal with it.”

“Sounds good.  Is MJ making her potatoes?”

“Yes, along with salad and your mom is making some side salads.”

“Sounds like desserts on me.”

“That’s what we thought, but I wasn’t going to push you into it.”

“Yeah, I’ll figure out something.”

After breakfast you take your computer to the upstairs reading nook and look for ideas; you aren’t exactly in a party mood so you need some inspiration.  Tom brings his trucks in the room to play and helps you to pick a few things out to make,  jello cookies and cupcakes.  

Before you turn off the computer a ding lets you know a new email arrived.  Checking you see it’s from Creation, they are confirming your dates for the upcoming convention.  Crap, you forgot there was one coming up so soon.  You really aren’t ready to think about seeing Jensen yet, especially when there are going to be hundreds of people around.  You don’t reply, closing it for now to think about.

Getting down on the floor, you play trucks with Tom for a bit before he tires of that and goes off to find his mom.  Jared is back from his meeting, and looking out the back window you see him swimming laps in the pool.  You decide he might be the best person to talk to about the upcoming con.

Sitting down at the edge you put your feet in the water waiting for him to finish up.  He does about five more laps before he comes to a stop.  Wiping the water from his eyes, he turns to look at you.

“Hey, nice to see you out of the bedroom today.”

“Gen didn’t give me a choice.”

“Sounds like my wife.  You alright?”

“Eh.  I need some advice or your opinion, something I don’t know which.”

He looks slightly confused. “Um, okay.”

“I got the schedule confirmation email from Creation today.  Honestly, I forgot about it coming up.  I don’t know that I can be there while he is right now.  I know it’s still a few weeks away, but running into Jay for the first time with a bunch of fans around…”

“Doesn't sound like the best idea?” he finishes for you.

“Yeah.  I don’t want to back out, but I don’t want to be around Sunday.”

He’s quiet for a moment.  “You could tell Creation you need to leave this one earlier than normal.”

“Would you be alright with that?”

“Y/N, I’m alright with whatever you need.  You’re my little sister, you will always come first for me.  So, if you don’t want to go, or need to change the time you are there, tell them.”

“Thanks Jare.”

“No problem,” he tells you with a smirk, and a slight gleam in his eye.

You quickly realize what’s going through his head when he slowly glides through the water toward you.  Pulling your legs out of the pool and standing up away from the ledge you shake your head at him.  “You are not pulling me in, Mister.”

You hear him laughing as you make your way back inside.  The first thing you do is write an email to Creation letting them know you need to make a change.  Looking at the clock, you notice it’s almost three.  You go downstairs to look for Gen, to see if she cares if you make dinner tonight.  You are craving some fettuccine alfredo, it’s a comfort food for you.  The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and they let you retire to the quiet of your room after dinner. 

When you get yourself around Thursday morning, you head to the store with both yours and Gen’s list for this weekend.  As you are walking down the aisle you end up picking up more than you plan on, grabbing jello for the cookies gives you another idea, then one sends you on to the alcohol aisle.

After all the groceries are carried in the house, you get to work.  Gen comes in once and looks at all the jello boxes sitting on the counter then turns to you with her eyebrows raised. 

“Eight boxes of jello, do you think we’ll need that many cookies?”

“Oh no, only two of them are for cookies.”

“Saving the others for later?”

“Nope 4 are for jello shots, don’t worry I’ll do some non alcoholic for you. The other two are for a jello cake.”

“Alright, need any help?”

“Nope I’m good.”

She checks on you a few times as the day goes on, the third time she finally speaks up.

 “Is all of what you are making for this weekend?  I thought you were just going to do the jello stuff?”

“I was going to make those cookies and a regular cake or cupcakes, but I kept finding things in the store that gave me ideas.  So why not make more?  What else am I going to do?  Who cares if I stuff my face all weekend?”

She opens her mouth, but closes it again, and leaves without another word.  Jared comes in later that afternoon, looks around and walks back out.  He goes to find Gen sitting out in the yard with Tom.

“What’s going on in the kitchen?”

“It’s what she's taking with us this weekend.  I think she's trying to distract herself.  We’re going to need to order takeout tonight.  No way I’m going to be able to get in there to make anything.”

“Does she realize there are only ten of us going?”

Gen just shrugs, “what’s she working on now?”

“I think cupcakes.”

“I haven’t seen her make any of those yet.  I have seen a cake and a pan of brownies come out of the oven, jello shots go in the fridge and she was mixing three different batches of cookies.”

“She’ll have us all in a sugar coma.”

You finished all the baking on Thursday and spent Friday morning frosting and decorating the cupcakes, cake, and brownies.

That evening you finish packing and take your suitcase downstairs.  Jared and Gen are watching a movie in the living room area with Tom sleeping between them.

“Hey guys, I was wondering if I could ask you to do me a favor?”

Jared nods and Gen agrees.

“Could you not say anything to anyone about me and Jensen?  I’m not ready for that to come out yet please?”

“You aren’t going to be able to hide it forever,” Jared starts off, but Gen pokes him in the side to stop him.

“But we won’t be the ones to tell them,” she adds.

“Thank you.”

Saturday morning is, well, crazy.  Jared takes the half packed car to go pick up the meat, and get more ice for the coolers.  Gen is chasing a very energetic Tom around the house trying to get him ready.  You are working on packing your SUV.  You thought about riding with them, but that would have been one very full car.

By the time Jared returns, your car is ready to go.  You take over dealing with Tom, while Gen directs your brother on loading their car.  Sadie finds a pile of dirt to go roll in and needs a bath before she can get in the car.   Finally, everyone is ready to go.  You follow their Suburban out the driveway and down the road.

You have an hour and twenty minute drive to Canyon Lake, to let your mind wander.  When this trip was first planned around Christmas time, you had invited Jensen along.  He thought he could get away for the weekend, but that was never brought up again once filming started.  You wonder what he is up to, did he come home to see his family?  Is he up with the cast he is spending so much time with?  Is he happier now that he doesn’t have to deal with you?

Thankfully, before you can really work yourself up, you are pulling into the driveway of the house your parents rented for the weeknd.  Getting out of the car, you cannot believe how big the place is.

Hearing a door open you see your parents walking out of the house.  Tom and Sadie both run up to them.  While the vehicles are being unloaded, Jeff and his family pull in the drive.  After everyone greets one another, the cars finish being emptied.

Inside your mom is giving out bedroom arrangements. “Y/N, I have you and Jensen in the far bedroom, next to Jared and Gen.  When will he be arriving?”

“He isn’t coming.  Sorry, I didn’t realize you were expecting him.”

“Oh, okay.  Jeff and Mary Jo, you are in the room up here and your dad and I will take the last room with the grandkids.”

“Mom, I can take that room.  You two can have the quieter room.”

So your brothers and their wives end up at one end of the house, and you end up on the other with your parents, two nephews and niece.  There was a bunk bed in the room you were sharing with the kids and the two boys immediately claimed it.  As the oldest grandkid, Tyler, Jeff’s son, declared he should have the top.  Katie, was going to sleep in the bed next to yours.

Once the luggage is taken to the rooms, you head down to the kitchen where your mom is already starting to put away the food.  Gen and MJ are down to help shortly.  

“Goodness, do you think we have enough sweets?” your mom asks as she is unloading the items you made.

“I was on a roll,” you tell her.

The kids are begging to go to the beach by the time everything is put away, so once everyone is changed the group makes the ten minute walk to the beach.  Gen and Mary Jo stay on the beach with your parents while you join your brothers and their kids in the water.  You tire out before the little ones do, and the guys herd them back to play on the beach for a while.  Laying down next to Gen on the big blanket she spread out, your mom starts questioning you.

“So how is Jensen doing?”  

“He’s fine, they keep him busy.”

“Does he like the new people he’s working with?”

“Seems to.”

“It’s too bad he couldn’t join us this weekend.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey mom,” Jared calls out, thankfully distracting her for you, “did you see that new exhibit coming to the history museum next month?” 

“No, what is it?” she asks him.  

The kids take a break from digging in the sand to come sit down and eat a snack before getting their parents up to play with them again.  You go between watching Jared and Gen with Tom in the water and Jeff and Mary Jo building a sand castle with their kids.  As much as you hate to admit it, there is a tinge of jealousy watching them all.  You thought you and Jay were going to have this together sometime soon.  Or at least you had hoped, and apparently so did your mother.

“So how long until you and Jensen are chasing a little one of your own around here too?”

“Longer than you think, mom.” Standing up you pick up your things.  “I’m going to go back and let Sadie out since she didn’t come with us.

Back at the house, you take Sadie for a short walk before changing and heading into town.  It’s not your mom’s fault for asking all those things, she doesn’t know what happened between you and Jensen.

Nothing really catches your eye as you walk through some of the small shops.  You pass a grocery store on the way back home, and you decide to stop and grab a bottle of wine.  It might be needed to get through this trip or at least tonight. .  So will the three bags of groceries you leave with. 

When you return Jeff is in the kitchen helping Katie get a drink.  “Where did you disappear to?”

“Just ran into town to look around while you were all busy.”

He looks in the bags you set on the counter, “already worried we’ll run out of food?”

“No.”

When you don’t say anymore, just set about putting the groceries away, he goes back outside with  Katie.  With everything, but what you need out now put away, you get to work.  Jared comes in a few minutes later.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing you?”

“Jeff said you went on a shopping spree.”

“Of course he did.”

“Want to talk about anything?”

“Nope.  I want to make cornbread to go with dinner.”

He watches you for a minute before he also retreats back outside. With the bread in the oven you pull out the bbq mom had gotten ready earlier and put it in the crockpot to warm up.  Seeing the jello shots in there, you take a few out for yourself.  Then decide to whip up a nacho dip to have out for a snack.  You grab those ingredients back out as Gen makes her way inside.  She sits down on one of the stools and watches you.

“I’m fine,” you tell her before she can ask.

“No you aren’t.  But I wasn’t going to ask.  Do you need any help?”

“I think I’m good. Meats heating up, I made cornbread.  I’m not sure what else you guys want out for dinner tonight.  Oh, and I’m making a nacho dip.”

“Probably some vegetables or fruit at least,” Gen says, getting up to look in the fridge.  

She finds some already cut fruit, puts it into a bowl, and brings the salad out that MJ prepared.  She is getting out plates and utensils when your mom enters.

“How are we doing girls?”

“Fine, just getting things out for dinner.”  When Gen hears the mixer start she turns to see what you are doing now.  The nacho dip you had is ready and sitting on the table.   When you finally turn the mix off she asks.  “Now what are you mixing up?”

“Garlic spread for the crackers I bought.”

“Isn’t this a lot of food,” your mom questions looking between the two of you.

“Not really.  Jared and Jeff are like bottomless pits, mom,” you tell her before grabbing out a box of Ritz.

Gen just shakes her head and holds up her hands.  She goes to tell the kids to get washed up, as your mom is getting glasses out for drinks.

“Is everything alright?” she asks.

“Just fine, be better if everyone stops asking me that.”

At the dinner table you end up next to Gen who is helping Tom and across from MJ and Katie.  Both kids still need their parents to help them.  Tyler is busy telling Jeff and your parents a story.  What you don’t see is Jared watching you push the food around your plate from the other side of Tom.

There is a bonfire after dinner with smores, someone across the lake is lighting up fireworks you can see from the yard.  You are ready to head inside for some quiet time when the first kid says they are tired. Jared tries to talk to you, but you tell him you are beat also.

You get up and go for a walk the next morning.  When you return the rest of the crew is getting ready to go back to the beach.  Snacks are packed,  kids are sunscreened, and Jared has Sadie ready with her leash.  He is taking her so she can play in the water.  You tell them all you will be down shortly.  Once they leave you sit on the porch, and enjoy the quiet before you have to get yourself down to the water.  If you wait too long someone will be looking for you. 

The morning at the beach goes much the same as the day before.  Playing in the water and sand.  Three tired kids ride back in the wagon. Looking for a snack in the kitchen, you decide to make up the pull apart cheese bread you saw online.  Remembering it when you were in the store, you grabbed what you needed yesterday.  

Jared comes in for a drink and looks at what you are doing.  “Is there anything else you plan on making, or are you going to join us out on the deck?”

“Um, I could…”

“We have enough food, come hang out with us.”

“Alright, let me get this in the oven.”

You join the other adults on the porch, you’re sure it won’t be long before your mom has another question about Jensen.  To your surprise she doesn’t, neither does anyone else.  Jeff and Jared decide to go off on a run, your mom and dad go in to get the steaks ready for tonight.  That leaves you with your two sister-in-laws. 

Somehow the conversation ends up on sex. You stand up before it gets too far. “Okay I’m out.”

“What? Why?” Mary Jo asks.

“One, it's been way too long, and unlike the two of you, I can’t go upstairs and get the dick tonight when I’m worked up.  Two, you’re both sleeping with my brothers.  I don’t need to hear this.”

“It couldn’t have been that long for you,” MJ says.

“January, before Jensen left.  It’s now July,” you tell her.

“Didn’t you just go see him?”

You sigh and look over at Gen.  “What are you giving me that look for?  I say tell her.  You’re the one keeping it quiet because you think it will ruin the trip,” Gen says.

“What?” MJ questions looking between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath you sit back down.  “I wasn’t going to tell anyone, like Gen said.  Jay and I broke up last weekend.”

“What?” she screams.  “You’re pulling my leg.  You two are made for each other.”

You sadly shake your head no.  “I just don’t want mom and dad to find out yet.”

"Wow, I can’t believe that.  I’m sorry.  I won’t say anything to them, but Jeff believes you’re acting weird and keeps asking me what I think is going on.”

“Fine, you can tell him.”

“I’ll let you get back to your conversation, now.”

“Well you totally killed that buzz, it’s time for a new topic,” Gen teases you.

That night while everyone was around the fire out back, even more people around the area were lighting off fireworks.

“Can we do that?” Tom asks his dad.

“I don’t know buddy, we’ll have to wait and see,” your brother says, hiding a grin that makes you think he already bought some fireworks of his own.

You didn’t sleep well that night and are the last one to rise Monday morning.  The kids are running around in their red white and blue clothes.  Katie has some fancy red and blue ribbons in her hair too.  Once again, beach time is on the agenda.  

You are drying off from a swim next to Gen when your phone starts beeping.  Picking it up you see a notification that Jensen has just posted on Instagram.  He doesn’t tend to post a lot so you forgot to change your notification settings for him.  Part of you says not to, but you open the app anyways. Instead of scrolling down the homepage you go to his profile.

“Wow,” is out of your mouth before you can even think.  You might be upset with him right now, but you can’t help but admire how good he looks in his Soldier Boy suit.  That is followed by a snort and a head shake when you read the caption below the picture. 

“What is it?” Gen asks.

“Jensen posted the reveal of his Soldier Boy Suit. Probably in celebration of the 4th.”  Turning your phone toward her, you show her the picture. 

“Not bad Ackles,” Gen agrees, then she also laughs when reading his caption.  “I can’t believe he said that.”

“I can believe he said it, just surprised it’s on Instagram for all to see.”

“Did you get to see him in his suit when you went to visit?” You mom asks.

“No, I wasn’t able to go to the set with him,” you answer.  

Judging by the look Jeff has on his face, his wife told him of your breakup.  You hurry and change the topic before he can say anything.  Taking your phone back from Gen, you change the notifications for Jensen, and also the profile picture that had been the two of you.  Deciding to go with one of you and your brothers from the day before.

When a break from the sun is needed, the group heads back to the house. The food that is left over is spread out to be picked at as the day goes on.  One of the guys finds a corn hole game in the barn and sets that up in the yard.   Jared and Gen take on Jeff and Mary Jo first.  Your middle sibling wins, and your mom partners with you for the next round.

You and are standing at one end tossing toward them, and trying just as hard to knock each other’s bean bags off, as you are to get them in.  

“So if I make this shot, then you’re babysitting Tom Wednesday and Thursday while we’re in LA, okay?”

Of course he makes the shot, then has to celebrate.

“You know, you could have just asked, and I would have said yes, right?”

“Eh, this is more fun.”

Shaking your head, you line up your throw, the game is still close and you would love to beat him.

“Hey,” calls out Jeff just as you are about to let go, causing you to jump and completely miss the board.

“Yes,” you ask, turning to him with a glare.

He just smiles back, “what does one have to do to get in on the free babysitting?”

“Let me move into your house rent free.”

“We have a couch you can have,” he tells you.

“No, no no.” Jared comes and stands in front of you, so Jeff can’t see you.  “She’s ours.”

“Jared, get back to your spot,” your mom tells him.  “Besides, aren't you going back to Jensen’s when he finishes filming soon?” she asks you.

Your brother next to you, throws his head back and his arms up.  “Will you just tell her for pete’s sake?”

“Tell me what?” your mom questions, looking between you two.  You and Jared are too caught up in a staring contest to answer her right away. 

“Oh fine,” you eventually give in.  Turning away from Jared, you face your mom.  “Jensen and I broke up last weekend.  Our lives are just going in different directions right now.”

Her mouth drops and she just stares at you, not saying a word.

“I think you broke mom,” Jared tells you.

“But you two were so good together.  He was already like part of the family, fit in so well.  I can’t believe you two broke up.”

“She was really counting on having Jensen as a son-in-law apparently,” Jeff throws out.

“And I’m out.  Thank you all.” You toss the last bean bag in your hand down, and walk inside the door slamming behind you.

You head upstairs wishing you had a door to shut for privacy up here.  Collapsing, on your bed you stare up at the ceiling.  It isn’t long before your mom is standing at the top of the stairs looking at you.

 “Yes?” you ask.

“I’m sorry, I was just really surprised to hear that.  Why didn’t you tell me sooner?  Are you doing alright?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your weekend.”

“You couldn’t ruin my weekend by telling me that.  I probably could have made yours better by not asking all the questions about him.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I talked to Donna this week, she never said anything.”

“I doubt Jensen even told her.  He’s caught up in his new life in Toronto.  I just don’t have a place in it anymore.”

Your mom doesn’t say anything, just wraps you in a big hug as you cry once again.  She sits with you for a little bit, before you tell her you’re alright and she makes her way downstairs.  When dinner is called later, you splash some water on your face and go make an appearance. 

After dinner the kids are playing in the yard, their parents watching them.  You decide to walk back down to the beach.  There aren’t too many people around at this time. Sitting in the sand, up by the waters edge, you enjoy listening to the sound of the waves crashing as they hit shore.  The sun slowly starts to set and shades of pink, and orange fill the sky.  Before it gets too low, you make your way back to the house.

A fire is already going, the little ones have sparklers they are waving around.  Under strict observation, of course.  As it gets darker, more fireworks are going off all around the area.  Jeff and Jared disappear and come back with a small box of their own fireworks.  Tom and Tyler are so excited to see them lit so close to them.    

Once the kids are passed out, their dads take them up to bed.  You help your mom and sisters-in-law clean up the kitchen.  The food is broken down and divided up by who is taking what home.  You end up with more of your baked goods going home then you would have liked.  Maybe, you did overdo the baking.

Tuesday morning, everyone is up a little earlier than the last few days.  After breakfast the cars are packed, and the cabin is straightened back up.  When all that is done, you hug your parents and get behind the wheel of your car, to follow your two brothers back to Austin.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 8

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[canonicallyobserving911]

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 22 will be posted soon.

Currently 21 chapters completed: 797.4K Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

[#1 Previous snippet from Several Sentences Sunday]

[#2 Previous snippet from WIP Wednesday]

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I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 22 because there's less than one day remaining until Buck and Eddie get married.

For anyone who hasn't read Chapter 21, here's a brief overview: Buck and Eddie finalized everything before the three of them left L.A. on Friday, December 15th. On December 10th, Buck agreed to meet with his biological father and Eddie and Chris will be present with him when they meet at 12 noon at the restaurant Edward selected. Buck still doesn't know Chris is going to ask him to adopt him on Christmas morning and neither Buck nor Chris knows anything about the gift Eddie bought to commemorate the special moment. Also, Eddie's planning several big surprises for Buck on their wedding day and for a week later when they arrive in London but Eddie doesn't know Chris and Buck are planning a surprise for him too. The three of them are speaking Italian more frequently and finally, Maddie, the 118 and Athena are still planning to throw them an engagement party because they don't know they're getting married which means New Year's Eve at Maddie's and Chimney's is going to be interesting 😉.

Buck and Eddie will tie the knot before Christmas 2023 but they are NOT getting married in the U.S. and they won't have a wedding ceremony until May 2024. They've revealed their relationship, their engagement and the fact that they're going to Europe to their found family during the 118's Thanksgiving dinner (Chapter 17), to Eddie's parents, his sisters, his abuela and Tia Pepa (Chapter 18) and Buck told the Buckley parents he's getting married and that he has a son (Chapter 19). Only three people know they're getting married and they are Chris, Carla and Malone. They told Carla and Malone (Chapter 19) because they asked them to be their witnesses at the Italian Consulate and they told Chris (Chapter 20) that evening after they got the "Atto Notorio" (Declaration) signed but no one else knows. In Chapter 21, Buck, Eddie and Chris arrived in Rome, Italy and they're preparing for the big day.

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Here's another romantically fluffy snippet from Chapter 22 of Eddie and Buck having a conversation while they're in their bedroom inside of their villa in Roma, Italia.

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Since Buck’s currently lying on his back soundly sleeping, Eddie decides he’s going to wake him up with a kiss.  He walks over to the bed and when he’s standing next to it, he slowly pulls back the blankets along with the top sheet in an effort not to wake him.  Once the covers are off to the side, he climbs on top of him the same way he did the night he got home from work and Buck was asleep on the couch.  He’s careful not to put all of his weight on him but once his face is in front of Buck’s, he leans down and places a soft kiss onto his pretty pink lips.  After he pulls back, he waits until his gorgeous fiancé stirs.

As soon as Buck’s eyes open, the sight of them literally takes Eddie’s breath away and he becomes mesmerized the same way he does every morning when he sees his beautiful blue eyes.  They’re always the bluest of blue this time of day and they’re so bright they remind him of a pair of shiny sapphires.

He kisses him on the lips once more, then he pulls back, smiles and greets, “Buongiorno, amore mio”.  [“Good morning, my love.”]

Buck returns his million-dollar Eddie smile and in his sleep ridden and raspy British sounding morning voice, he replies, “Buongiorno, piccola”.  [“Good morning, babe”.]

“Avete dormito bene?”  [“Did you sleep well?”]

“Sì, l’ho fatto.  Hai fatto?”  [“Yes, I did.  Did you?”]

“Sì.”  [“Yes.”]

Without taking their eyes off each other, they stay in the moment with their faces only millimeters apart and their bodies pressed together from their chests all the way down to their hips.  Eddie’s legs are in between Buck’s and he fits perfectly because the space was created just for him.

“Ti amo cosi tanto.  Sei la mia anima gemelli e non posso vivere senza di te.”  [“I love you so much.  You’re my soulmate and I can’t live without you.”]  Eddie admits.

“Ti amo anch’io.  Sei l’amore dell amia vita.”   [“I love you too.  You’re the love of my life.”]

As he gazes into those ocean blue eyes he loves so much, he moves his head and softly kisses his cheek, then he places an open mouth kiss onto his neck right underneath his earlobe and whispers, “Oggi é il giorno del nostro matrimonio” [“Today is our wedding day”] and he lifts his head so he can meet his eyes again.

Buck’s smile widens even more and he’s so happy he thinks he might burst and he knows if he does, his body will ooze love goo for Eddie because he’s head over heels in love with him.  He lifts both of his hands and places one on each side of Eddie’s face.  “Lo é e sono cosi felice.  Non vedo l’ora di sposarti.”  [“It is and I’m so happy.  I can’t wait to marry you.”]  Right after the words leave his lips, he gently pulls Eddie’s face closer to his and passionately kisses him.

Their soft and sweet kiss quickly turns heated when Eddie rolls his tongue and they immediately get lost in it.

Eddie moans and gasps into it so much so that he never wants it to end but he knows it has to or else they’ll never get out of bed.  It’s imperative they do because he’s planned a lot of things he’s going to do for Buck and the first one will happen as soon as they leave the room.

After about a minute, Eddie breaks the kiss and it causes Buck to poke his bottom lip out into a pout.

He chuckles then he kisses it away and says, “Vieni con me.  Andiamo perché ho una sorpresa per te.” [“Come with me.  Let’s go because I have a surprise for you.”]

Buck raises his eyebrows and asks, “Una sopresa per me?”  [“A surprise for me?”]

“Sì, amore mio.” [“Yes, my love.”]  He kisses him again and after he pulls back, he admits, “Oggi é il tuo giorno Diaz.”  [“Today is your Diaz day.”]

What does Eddie have planned for Buck’s first “Diaz Day”? 👀

How many surprises will there be? 🤷🏽‍♀️

Has he planned even more than those he coordinated with Appolonia before they left L.A.? 🙃

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This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-21 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 22 will be posted soon.

[creative-heart]

"My thoughts will echo your name"| Esteban Kukuriczka

Chapter three: “Until I found her.”

Lucia’s notes: I really do apologize in advance if this chapter is a bit slower or not as thrilling as the previous ones, but I kinda needed to give our sweet Kuku some more space to be himself in all his feels, some sad and piny, some more steamy and shmexy.  I promise things will start picking up on the next chapter, which is actually, coming this Friday. @Y/IG/UN stands for Your instagram username. As usual, please let me know if I've let any mistakes get through

Playlist:

Apocalypse- Cigarettes after sex.

What a time- Julia Michaels, Niall Horan

Until I found you- Stephen Sanchez

The show- Niall Horan

Content Warning: This chapter is just basically from Kuku’s POV, lots of internal monologue and him pining over reader, basically him being quite an angsty mess for a bit. Brief, mild thoughts of sexy stuff, nothing too graphic, but if you do not want to read it, you can stop reading at “Every time kuku looked at Y/N…” after the first cut. 

Word Count: 2kish

Kuku’s POV:

Esteban had never been one to envy what others had, even since he was a little boy, he had always been a generous, kind soul. He also really couldn’t complain about what life had sent his way, not that he hadn’t worked his ass off to get to where he was now, he knew all the success was much deserved. Why couldn’t he stop feeling so mad about Lucas being in a relationship with Y/N then?, why couldn’t he shake the feeling of his friend not being deserving of such a woman?. It was obvious she was way too good for him, she was not only one of the most gorgeous women kuku had ever met, but since the moment he first laid eyes on her, the hazel eyed woman had wooed him. She was so funny, so witty, her laughter so melodious and bright it could light up a whole room. He couldn’t keep lying, not to himself at least, he had the most raging crush on his best friend’s girlfriend.

Since the night of his coming home party, all he could think about was that beautiful woman every second he was awake and every single one of his dreams dominated by her face, the way his name sounded on her voice, the ever so slight lisp when she pronounced his whole name- which made it all that more adorable-. They may not have known eachother for that long, but sometimes it doesn’t take that much time to see the chemistry with someone, he knew it was there; and it saddened him so much to see how much she dulled herself when she was next to her boyfriend. Y/N was no doubts about it, as brilliant and talented as she was beautiful and sexy, he had confirmed that when he found her photography online. She could very well be making a living off of that, why did Lucas hide her away from the world was something he couldn’t grasp. If he were lucky enough to be her boyfriend, he’d brag about her nonstop to anyone who would listen.

~~~~~

Conversation with Y/N was so easy as well, ever since they started texting and talking on the phone every night he had confirmed, that she was just all the more interesting than he had phatomed on their first encounter. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about and when those rare moments came about, silence was so comfortable it felt as if they knew eachother since forever. They had agreed to meet at the park near his place on a Wednesday afternoon, and he felt as nervous as he did when he went on his first date, or when he had his first ever audition. He remembered Y/N had said she loved Hazelnut caramel lattes one of the times they were chatting, so he made sure to grab two coffees when he headed to their not date date. Esteban took a deep breath as he saw the blonde girl sitting crosslegged on the grass picking at it absentmindedly and walked over to her, placing the to go cup in front of her face “penny for your thoughts sugar?” the freckled man said softly sitting down across from her.

As she took the cup taking a sip and smiled like a little girl who just got the doll she’s been waiting for for so long. “Hazelnut caramel latte, you remembered?” she said almost as if she expected him not to, it was the least he could do, -did Lucas really pay that little attention to her?-  he thought as he took a sip from his beverage looking at her as if he were trying to memorize every single detail on her face; some people are so lucky they don’t even realize what they have don’t they?, all he knew, was that he could look at Y/N and listen to her talk all day. There was something really special about the way her face and specially those eyes lit up whenever she talked about something she was passionate about. Every time kuku looked at Y/N; all he could think about was how her lips would taste, how soft they’d feel against his; he was sure her skin was as warm and silky as it looked, kuku wanted to trace his fingers along every single inch of her skin, feel the goosebumps underneath his fingertips as he discovered the more tender spots on it. If he were to ever be given the chance to hear his name come out of her luscious lips in a breathy moan, he was sure he would collapse on the spot, in fact it was all he had been thinking about since that night at his parents house.

When Y/N handed him her camera and instructed him to find whatever on that park that inspired him, that made him want to take a picture of, all he wanted to do was point it at her, he could take a million and one pictures of that woman and never grow tired. He decided against it though- he thought he could feel something there from her part as well, but he didn’t want to ruin it if he was wrong- instead, he looked around and found a little girl playing with a dog and aimed the lens towards them; just as he was trying to get the camera focused, he felt the younger’s light breath on the side of his neck and her scent was so intoxicatingly sweet, she smelled like orchids and jasmines, it was the best smell he had ever come across and it fitted her so well, and he could her hear talking, but kuku couldn’t really focus on one single word she was saying. Having her so close to him made his heart race and he could feel the warmth inside him grow, he needed to be this close to Y/N all the time.  “And now, once you’ve found what you like, you hold yourself still, and press the button”- You, I like you Y/N so very much- he thought as he could catch her looking at him through the corner of his eyes before snapping the picture.

As kuku stepped into the elevator of his apartment building he couldn’t erase that stupid boyish smile from his lips, he was absolutely smitten, lost, taken, he was gone, there was not even a good enough reason to deny that he was falling head over heels for Y/N, and it pained him so to see a woman such as her, wilting away and dimming her light to fit next to someone like Lucas, she deserved so much better. Esteban took his phone out of his pocket at the chime of a new text coming through, a grin drew on his face as soon as he saw the contact name on the bubble and opened them.

Y/N/N 🤞:This way, you can go back to these later on, when you want to check your first work ;) 

Y/N/N 🤞: I had a really good time today by the way, thank you, I really needed to get out of my place, those walls can get trapping.

Y/N had sent him the pictures they had taken that afternoon, when had she managed to take that picture of him with his sunglasses on was a mystery.

Kuku 🤭: thanks for the pictures, and I’m also glad that I could help you feel better, always happy to help a damsel in distress 🤭 

Esteban mentally cursed at himself for that supid reply and kept going trough the several pictures she had sent; laughing at a couple where they just got to playing around and decided to post them to his Instagram profile “park shenanigans @Y/IG/UN”. He sighed happily and walked into his place, grabbing a quick snack before going to take a long hot shower, he just needed to get himself together, what was happening wasn’t right. Even if he could tell Lucas didn’t make Y/N happy, even if he knew she deserved better, if he knew he could treat her better, it wasn’t right to be doing what he was doing, and thinking what he was thinking about with her. He either needed to stop and get his act together, or he needed to make his intentions clear to her. After what seemed like ages, and finding himself standing under now cold water, he got out and let himself fall onto his bed staring at the ceiling.

~~~~~

A few days had gone by and Esteban hadn’t heard another word from Y/N that was weird, had something happened at the park the other day? had he done something wrong?. He looked at his phone, nothing, no new posts on Instagram nor any missed texts or calls from her, that was weird, they had gotten into the habit of talking to eachother on a daily basis. He decided to text her and make sure she was alright.

Kuku 🤭: Hey Y/N/N, hope everything’s okay, haven’t heard from you in a while and was getting worried, if you need anything, please let me know. 😚

He put his phone down again seeing no reply from her, not even a confirmation of her reading the text. Kuku decided to get ready and go over to Matias’ house, he texted him on his way over. 

Kuku: Mati, I’m on my way to your place with a bottle of wine, I really hope you’re free tonight.

The younger man looked at his phone, knowing something must be going on if his friend was coming over unannounced, and asked his girlfriend Male to give them some space and time for a guys night before replying.

Mati: Well, Male just went out with friends, how bad is it? Do I need to rally the troops? cause I can always text Fran and Agus at least. Lemme know.

He didn’t even wait for the elder’s response, he sent a quick S.O.S text to the others and soon enough they were all at his place. Not long after they were all there, wine was flowing around, so were the laughs and silly jokes until Fran perked up a bit and looked at his freckled face friend “okay, what was the S.O.S text Mati sent about Kuku? spill darling.”

Esteban looked up at the blond sat across from him, and took a deep breath letting it out in a heavy sigh before downing his glass and getting a new one. “you got time?” he looked around a humorless chuckle getting past his lips as the others just looked at him; “okay, so remember the party my childhood friends threw for me a few weeks ago?” at the nod from the rest he continued “well.. there was a girl there…Y/N”.

“The one from your lovey dovey pictures on IG” Agus added on “you two dating?”

Kuku shook his head huffing “wish it was that easy bro, no, she’s dating my childhood best friend, I know she’s absolutely unhappy, I’m sure he’s a douche to her to say the least, and she’s so incredible, she’s not only gorgeous, but smart, sweet, witty, charming, talented, dude, she’s perfect, she literally is pretty much perfect, and I just can’t get her off my mind, and I wish there was something I could do to make her realize that Lucas, my friend, doesn’t deserve to be next to her and for her to finally leave him. He’s shutting her off so much, she’s wilting next to him”  he rambled on for a while about the whole situation and ended up with a small shrug of his shoulders while he downed his drink again. 

The boys looked at eachother. “Have you tried telling her how you feel?” Mati said as if it were the most obvious next step, and he was right, it was the obvious next step, that’s what he needed to do, and he was gonna do it, he needed to get together with Y/N again and tell her everything that had been going on in his mind.

Taglist:

@madame-fear @cyliarys-starlight @castawaycherry @luceracastro @espinasrubi @lastflowrr @koiibiito @candycanes19 @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred @deepinsideyourbeing

[floral-moon-light]

QSMP Philza update, go watch the Wednesday the 25th and Friday 27th updates if you don't want to be spoiled.

Nothing really major happened Wensday, philza went exploring for a bit after getting on to see if there was more black concrete, which there was.

He then spawns in his Minime who he later names Little Twat (not a joke).

Then he spends an hour and a half with Fit and Tubbo talking to the new Cururucho AI at spawn, occasionally getting flirted at, told stuff that could not be true and such, and trying to exploit the AI.

They then went to lucky duck before returning to spawn because Tubbo needed to get his minime Kitkat back after it randomly disappeared. So a random fed. worker came, had Tubbo dance then Phil got board and decided to work on leveling his minime, leading him to dig down under spawn to tr and find iron I believe leading him to drop down into a massive wold edit hole. Cucurucho then joins Phil stares at the strange area before giving Phil a quest to build an aquarium.

Phil then went off to gather materials and mobs for the aquarium, was joined by Fit for a while before Fit leaves, after which Phil spends a few minutes exploring before returning to spawn near the nino to "build the aquarium," if you count an outdoor aquarium with 5 tanks and no other infrastructure. However it counted so Cucurucho have Phil his requested building block rainbow glass or at least the components for it. Phil then went to gather sand for the glass, spent time looking at glitched terain for an hour or so. After which he headed home, hat a none cannon chat with BadBoyHalo and Royer about whether the Brazil or Vagus trips were better, before Phil went off to do a few cores before getting off for the day at the nest.

Friday had some lore happen, but it was nothing major or egg related. If anything it related back to the bird cage with the "wise crow" comment.

To give a better flow of events, Phil woke up, decided to work on upgrading his now 2 mini me's, affectionately called Little Twat, and Little Shit (normally, I would censor a curse, but the name is the curse word so...). With Little Shot asking for a weird mushroom (twice.). After doing some of the Minime quests he went home, had an existential crisis due to the black concrete at his face spreading, then went inside to check the message chest, finding nothing. Then while doing further checks he found strange vines on the inside walls of Tallulah's seed garden, which he followed to the back wall to find a picture of a skull with vines on it and a book asking if Phil remembers his time before the server and promising help.

Side note, I personally want to say that that is Kristen, the goddess of death, trying to communicate with him. It seems to out of place to be the federation, and with how different Phil's ticket is from the rest it has to point to outside interference. And one of Kristen's main ways of talking with Phil previously when lore related back to his wife revolved around crows. So her leaving a critic crow book? Seems plausible.

Plus, sleep is often described as the line between life and death.

Phill took some pictures then called Fit to come see, with Pac joining along, only for when Phil brought them to the area of the message to find it gone like it was never there and all his proof gone. This sent Phil into a minor panic that he tried to brush off, even though booth Fit and Pac believed Phil had seen something.

To get his mind off that, Phil joined Pac and Fit's dungeon crawl, during which he lost his shield, before the group separated after completing the odd triple dungeon with Phil exploring a bit to find materially to replace his shield, followed by minime item collection, a brief dungeon raid, raiding egg backpacks to get the means to get a minime item (a type of mushroom), before he goes hole, does a brief check of stops the eggs loved, ended up back at the dream spot, before going home and getting off.

Also, on the 29th, two messages's appeared on the QSMP Twitter involving the 4th, one involves the train station, one seems to involve Cheyanne.

No clue what it means, other then something happening November 4th.

Good night all.