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tarjapearce · 11 months

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Strawberry Jam (+18)

Dad friend AU!Miguel x fem!reader

Inspired in THIS ask <3 Thanks anon. Hope you like c:

PT. 2

WARNING: SMUT, Age gap, breeding kink, fang kink, choking, rough sex, brief tension, slight fluff.

"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Curtains were drawn out as sunlight seeped in your dim lit room. You groaned in response, trying to cocoon yourself under the sheets.

"C'mon, sweetie. I gotta meet a client in a coupe of hours, need you awake to receive some packages." Silence. He sighed, "I'll bring you some flan." You yawned and smiled. Of course he would, you were his spoiled girl. He had raised you well despite the rocky relationship with your mother.

Someone that had decided to not be a part of your life for quite a while, leaving your dad a good chunk of the responsibility. At least, she provided enough for your college. An agreement that had settled up a long time ago by a judge.

"Make it napolitan, please" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "Oh, forgot to mention, Miguel is coming over to help you."

"Miguel?"

And of course, it had put a toll on his mental health, during the last couple of years. As a father, your father, he was anything but perfect, but he made sure to be there, to always support you. He had met Miguel in one of those support groups for men, and things sort of snowballed from there. Your dad and Miguel had alot in common, single parents, demanding jobs, and unconditional love for their daughters.

You had the chance to meet him a couple of times during college vacations, at first he was intimidating to you. 6'9", a hard look on his face that seemed to only melt away with his close ones, and a hulking muscular figure.

But now, every time you visited you'd find his blue Aston Martin Vanquish parked outside your house, beer in hand, screaming at the screen as a soccergame was on. He wasn't a stuck up guy (Like your neighbors had described him once), despite having flooding money in his account.

His daughter was in one of the best private schools in town after all, thanks to his job at Alchemax. He even got you a lovely gold necklace for your 21st birthday after ruffling your hair, something that annoyed you, since you weren't a child. He had came into your lives' two years ago.

"Yeah,some of the packages are his. He was out of town to get them, so I offered to receive them." The doorbell rang, announcing his presence. Your dad left and you sat on your bed and checked your phone.

Of course, your friends would be always asking about him, one of them even dared to ask if you had fucked him already once they saw you wearing the golden necklace. You knew he was off limits. Mostly out of respect for your dad, and of course, the weird feeling that he just saw you as his friend's daughter.

You stood up to prepare for the day, as uneventful as it would be. Hot shower with sweet smelling products, to then change into a pair of gray sweatpants, bunny slippers and a tanktop, washed your teeth and brushed your damp hair. Then, you came down the stairs only to find Miguel sitting across your dad on the kitchen island, mug of steaming coffee on hands.

"Morning" you greeted him with a pat on the shoulder as you put a bagel into the toaster and served yourself some orange juice.

"Buenos días" Miguel greeted, his eyes following you as you moved through the kitchen. Your house was homey, cozy and perfect for the suburban life. Miguel wore a black buttoned jersey, dark jeans and dress shoes. A black belt accentuating his waist.

"Gotta go then, You're in charge" Your dad spoke, and patted his sturdy shoulder to then leave. You rolled your eyes.

"Anyways, want breakfast?"

"No, Thank you." His eyes were focused on the newspaper before him, that until you bent over to search for jam in the lower cabinets. His eyes were immediately to your rear. he sipped his coffee and hummed. The thin straps of the tank top slid off your shoulder. He closed his eyes, engraving the image in his mind. You sat across him, breakfast on a plate.

"Whatcha getting?" you munched in the bagel, a bit of jam smearing in the corner of your lips. Instinctively, he licked his own.

"Some playground for Gabriela." you nodded as you relished the flavor of your bagel. Licking off, the strawberry jam off your stained fingers. His eyes wandering to the way your lips trapped your fingers, the gold necklace adorning your little neck. It looked almost inviting.

"Glad to see you liked it. Gold looks good on you." You didn't know how his shirts fit him so well without bursting or tearing. His back had been lately the object of your new hyperfixation. You had seen jacked up guys in college, but Miguel was certainly in a whole different level.

"Thanks. It got me into a bit of trouble back in college actually." you snorted and drank your orange juice.

"How come?"

"Well,my friends think that I've got myself a sugar daddy."

His eyes twinkled in amusement, an idea seemed to be popping in his mind.

"Funny they think that when you still keep smearing jam on your face. Come here" He took your hand and pulled you across the kitchen island, even though he was sitting, he still towered over you. You barely reached his chin. He cupped your face, your sweet breath fanned his lips. He pouted as his face inched closer.

"Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa." He mumbled, as he wiped the jam off the corner of your lips to then lick it off his finger. Your eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as you swallowed.

"D-Dad would kill you if he'd see you like this"

"Good thing he isn't around, hm?"

"You're the same age" your voice almost a whisper as he kept cupping your face with a single hand as the other one pulled you closer to him, "You could even be my father!"

Your heart thumped hard against your chest, his warm, coffee-like smelling breath brushed over your lips.

"But I'm not." his hands roamed your shoulders, the straps of your tanktop peeled away under his touch, the fabric slid lower and lower as it hovered over the curvature of your breast.

The doorbell rang. You both froze.

"Puta madre…" he seethed and stood, towering even more over you, "I'll get it. Stay put."

"But-"

"Stay.Put." His finger pointing at you as he disappeared back to the livingroom.

Your mind was still trying to process what just happened. You could hear Miguel exchange peasantries with the delivery man as he received an array of boxes. Your straps were slid back on their original position, and your phone buzzed. "Dad <3" on screen. You picked up.

"Hey"

"Hello, how's everything going?"

"Dad it's just been twenty minutes. But at least the packages just came."

"Careful with a small box, it has some fragile things."

The main door was closed.

"Oh? ok. Uh… You coming home soon?"

"Why, is there a problem?"

Big hands covered your shoulders to pull the upper part of the tanktop down, breast spilled from their confinement. Miguel's hands cupped them and gave gentle squeezes as his mouth kissed your neck.

"N-No, no no. Just asking so I can make-" You bit your lip, drowning a gasp as he toyed with your nipples, "E-Enough lunch for both"

Your hand covered your mouth as his teeth grazed your skin. Somthing you found interesting about Miguel was the fact he seemed to have larger canines than the average people. Whenever he was angry, you could see a glimpse of his pointy teeth underneath his plump lips.

He gave soft love bites, licking the skin. Your skin shivered.

"Ah, don't you worry about it, I might get there until night it seems. Anyways, see ya later, love you cupcake."

Miguel stopped for a moment.

"Love you too." You hung up the call, Miguel removed the phone from your hands and twirled you around to kiss you deeply. His hands fisting your hair to hold you in place as his tongue invaded your mouth with such expertise it made your legs feel like jelly. You gasped as she pressed you closer to his body, warmth spreading all over yours.

Miguel nipped at your bottom lip, and placed you ontop of the kitchen island with ease, bunny slippers falling off your feet as they dangled. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed the piece of cloth on the dining table.

"W-Wait! Shouldn't we better go-"

"Shh." His fingers hooked on the hem of your sweatpants and pulled down along your panties. Smooth skin revealed to his eyes. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds to then ease it inside you slowly. He hissed at the moist and warm feeling, he retrieved the finger back and licked it clean, groaning.

"Riquísimo, preciosa" His hands maneuvered your legs like a toy, he spreaded them to then push them back to expose even more flesh. Your mouth fell open as he dribbled the tip of his tongue around the knub of nerves and then drag it down and up your entrance.

Yelping, you held tight on the sturdiness of the island. His mouth disappeared between your slick folds, your breath caught in your throat as he sucked eagerly at your clit while his tongue flickered.

Your sweet coos and moanings only urged him to hold on you tightly, he moved his head to the sides increasing the intensity of his eating. Your hips grind against his tongue, seeking for relief, but he stopped you, a choked whine from your throat.

"Look at you" He put your hips back on the cold tiles, to then unbuckling his belt. "What would your dad think if he saw you like this?" He pulled you off the island, to then bend you over it. One of his feet, kicked away the clothes.

"All spread for me, eager to be filled up" He slapped your pusy softly as he pulled his underwear and pants down, also kicking them away, "Wanna make him a grandpa?" Your eyes went wide, panic surged through your mind but he pushed your torso flat against the cold surface. His legs separating your own.

His fingers prodded inside once more before coating his cock and as gently as he could, eased his way inside you. The stretching of his cock had you biting your lip and gripping softly at his wrist.

"Ohmy god" you half whimpered, slurred as he filled you completely.

"Estás tan apretada, mami" He kneaded your trembling hips. One hand held you in place as the other one twisted in your lowered tanktop. His hips rolled slowly. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough before his hips smacked yours with enough force to make you lurch forward, air knocked out of your lungs. You were on your tip toes. His hand slapped your ass as it bounced back and forth on his cock.

"Such a good girl" he grunted and sunk his nails on your hips, "Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi." His hand freed the tanktop to take a fistful of your hair and pulled back. He had gone to ruffle your hair, to pull it.

Your arching gave him the perfect spot to ram into. So ever tight and hot. You hissed as an array of lewd cursing flew out your mouth. His balls slapped your flesh mercilessly.

"Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?" he clicked his tongue in feigned disapproval. He let your hip go, hands immediately hooking underneath your right thigh and hoisted it up, spreading you like a book, pounding deeper and rougher into you.

Your pants and desperate moanings drowned his growling. Your body felt on fire, a thin layer of sweat covered your body, his torso glistened in sweat. His front bangs had fell onto his face by the constant movement.

You held onto his forearm, contorting your torso up, to see his lust blown face. His hands made sure to hold you tightly, preventing from falling. Big eyes stared at him, too lost in sinful thoughts as he pressed closer, deeper into you.

"Fuck me" You choked a sob as your orgasm approached. Your voice too coarse from the constant mewling.

"Just like this, mami?" he breathed before hoisting your leg a bit wider, you whimpered, nodded and clawed at his arms. You begged him to not stop, your orgasm was around the corner as he rawed you silly.

Your inner thighs and outher flesh were flushed by the constant rough slapping of his hips, the hand that held your leg, snaked its way towards your neck, squeezing tighly, your leg dangled and swayed at the rythm of his thrust.

"Come for daddy, preciosa" he groaned as his thrustings turned erratic and sloppier, slickness rolling down your sopping pussy and inner thighs.

"Fuck fuck fuckfu-" He let your leg go and held you tightly against him. your feet barely touching the floor, your torso once more flat against the cool tiles of the island as he painted your walls white with a guttural growl. It earned him a shaky and loud mewl.

"Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí." He picked you up and kissed you on the lips, "You alright?"

You nodded and panted, legs trembling.

"We gotta… clean up" he nodded with a smirk.

---------------

"Hey cupcake?"

"Hm?" You were sat on the solo couch, browsing through your phone as Miguel sat in the couch nearby. Your dad had arrived an hour after you were done cleaning yourselves. Something that had nearly turned into round two if it wasn't for the fact that your dad had called in to announce he was on his way back.

"Did you cook something?"

"Eh no, why?"

"Kitchen smells funky." Your eyes widened, as Miguel went stiff. You had been too engrossed in eachother that barely had the time to clean after your mess. Your dad went back to the kitchen to get himself a beer. It had been an uneventful evening for him, he was gone two hours but it was good enough for him to get a new sponsor to his remodeling contractors firm.

You shared a nervous glance with Miguel. Your dad groaned annoyed.

"(Name)"

Uh Oh. He only used your name when he was pissed.

"Yes, dad?"

"Look, your… sex life is none of my concern, really. But from all the places you could… do such thing, was the kitchen necessary? And you, I told you to keep an eye on her." He scowled at Miguel. You hung your head in embarrasment as Miguel chuckled with his hands up defensively.

"Who was it?"

"W-What?"

"Whose the guy, so I can talk to him, to not pull this… stunt again. You're better than that, (Name)"

"Hey, relax. Go easy on her." Miguel spoke

"Shut up, O'Hara."

"C'mon, you probably acted worse when you were her age. Remember when you told me about the time you-"

"Miguel, stop." Your face went as red as a tomato and your dad sighed. He looked between you and Miguel, and you could swear the five stages of grief going through his face at the sudden realization.

"You fucked my daughter…"

"Dad, stop!"

"Dad, nothing! Go to your room, now."

"You can't ground me, I'm old enough to-"

"To what? Be a step mom? Fuck older guys that could be your father? You don't know what you are getting into, young lady."

"You out of everyone know that I'll never do something that would put her in danger."

"Miguel, I don't know how your brain works right now, but You.Fucked.My.Daughter. My Daughter! The last thing I want is her being a mother before she finishes college."

"She won't be. That's a promise."

"Damn right it is, cause you won't be seeing her anymore."

"W-What? Dad!"

"I thought you were in your room, like I fucking told you."

"Don't talk to her like that." Miguel frowned

"My daughter, my house, my rules. You need to leave."

"You're angry, I get it. It was wrong of me to cross you like that, but she is old enough to know what she wants. I would never force her to do something she doesn't wants to do." Miguel spoke with his hands still in defense.

"For how long have you… been doing this?"

"It was the first time, actually" you spoke meekly from the doorframe.

"Like, you're always complaining about the few guys I introduce you to-"

"This is different!" you had never seen him so serious and angry.

Silence stretching too long, your dad sighed, annoyed.

"I fucking… I fucking swear, O'Hara. If you get her pregnant, I'll fucking kill you."

"Relax, I'm not making you a grandpa." Your dad's shoulder slumped, defeated.

"Yet." They went tense again.

"Oh my god." Your need to be swallowed by the earth underneath and to spit you away from them only increased as their conversation kept unfolding.

"So, now the surprise has been popped, that means I have your permission to properly date her?" Your dad rubbed his face tiredly.

"I wanna make things right." Miguel glanced at you.

"I've known you for a couple of years, and you've met her ever since she was eighteen. You're not a bad man, but trust me when I say that if this girl, my girl, comes here with tears in her face because you did something stupid to her, we're done. Understood?"

"Por supuesto" he went to your side and pulled you closer.

"And clean up this fucking mess."

He left to his room and left you alone. Of course you'd talk to him later, when everything was a bit more calm. Miguel on the other hand kissed your temple and sighed in relief.

"So…"

"Sunday night, at 6 for dinner?"

"Sure."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Just give him time to get used to it."

"What if he never gets used to it?"

he kissed your hand

"You'll come with me"

------------------------

Buenos días- Good Morning

Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa- What a messy girl

Puta madre- Fucking shit

Riquísimo, preciosa- So delicious, gorgeous

Estás tan apretada,mami - You're so tight, mami

Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi- I'll fuck you so good that every time you enter this place, you'll remember me

Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?- With that mouth you tell daddy you love him?

Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí - You look so beautiful like that, all full of me.

Por supuesto- Of course.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #female reader #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv smut #spider man 2099 smut

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xtreklx · 10 months

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Bumpin' ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: a self-indulging one-shot I thought up for Raphie boy. thanks for reading!

__________

"Y/N, I'm boooooooored."

Michelangelo let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned to look at you. You were both strewn about the living room of the lair, him on the floor and you on the couch. This time was normally used for your weekly Mortal Kombat sesh, but Donatello had shut off the lair's power to make a repair, so the two of you were forced to find an alternative activity. Which sounded like a simple task, but had since proven the opposite.

You mimicked your friend's long-drawn out sigh with a smirk on your face. "Yeah, I bet Don decided on purpose to do this right now," you replied. "Not that I blame him, we do get pretty loud when we game." You were laying on the couch as you spoke, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone's home screen and hoping that an app or notification would give you some sort of inspiration.

You thought for a moment as Mikey continued his mock sighs, which were rising in both volume and drama, before turning to him with an idea. "Hey Mikey, do you use Spotify to listen to music?" He looked to you again before pulling out his phone. "Yeah, team Spotify all the way! Why?"

You sat up with a new invigoration. "We should create a blended playlist!" You exclaimed, opening the app on your phone. "We can compare our music tastes and see what we have in common, it'll be fun!" Mikey sat up from his spot on the floor and handed you his phone with the Spotify app open. "Hell yeah, girl! I'm always in the mood to bump some tunes! Lemme go get my speaker." And with that, he took off to his room.

You got to work with both of your phones in your hand. When he returned, you hit shuffle on your blended playlist and the music started flowing from the speaker. You moved to sit next to him on the floor.

"When I look at the playlist story, it says we have a 56% music match." "Okaaaaaaay, that's not too bad," Mikey replied. "Where do we match up, dudette?" You tapped the screen again, showing him. "Our number one match is Tyler the Creator. That makes sense, I listen to him a lot!" "No way, me too!" Mikey exclaimed. "He's definitely one of my fave artists."

The two of you began chatting away and singing along to songs as they came up, while unknowingly summoning a third party.

"Poor Don'll never get the quiet time he wants," Raphael spoke, shaking his head as he walked into the living room from the dojo. His gruff voice startled you from behind and your heart rate increased, as it often did around the short-tempered brother. You had had a crush on him for a few months now, but were far too intimidated and nervous to make a move, so it went unaddressed. The turtle in question strolled over and plopped down on the couch, looking down at you both on the floor. "What're you two idiots doing, anyway?"

"We're just bumpin' some tunes, bro!" Mikey called, shaking his head to the beat of the song playing. "We're comparing our music tastes!" You excitedly said. "And actually, we're using a very technical algorithm, so this is in the name of science! Donnie couldn't argue with that," you grinned up to the turtle in red. Raph rolled his eyes but let a small smirk grace his features in return. Dork.

"Alright dollface. Since it's so impressive, show me how it works."

You explained the process to him as Mikey continued to jam to the music playing from his speaker. Raph listened and examined the blended playlist you had created. "Hmm... Y/N, see what ours would look like," he pondered, reaching for his phone. Again, your heart sped up, but you breathed out an "O-okay" and took his phone from him. As you tapped the screen, you ignored Mikey wiggling his brows at you in your peripheral vision, knowing about your feelings toward his brother.

When you finished, you gasped slightly, and turned the screen to Raph. "We're at 84%!!!" you squealed, showing him where your favorite artists intertwined. You scrolled through the playlist to see a mix of heavy metal, grunge, classic rock, R&B and rap. Tyler the Creator was also listed as one of your top matching artists.

"No way," the brute scoffed, leaning towards you so that he could look over your shoulder at your blended playlist. You both pointed out which songs were your favorite and why, and also chatted about the favorite artists you had in common. Your nerves eased as you connected with him, your heart thrumming at the realization that he was being... kind of vulnerable with you. You were getting to see a part of Raph that he had never shown you before.

All of the sudden, the song changed to 'Dogtooth' by Tyler the Creator, and Mikey jumped up, hollering. You gasped with joy, and you both looked to each other with excitement. "I love this song!!!" You both yelled, and then: "JINX!" You laughed hard as Mikey ran from the living room, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs, 100% looking to annoy his other older brothers.

As your laughing ceased and you turned back to Raph, you took in a quick breath as you realized how close you two were leaning in before the outburst. You were still on the floor, but had scooted towards his spot on the couch until you were practically leaning on his lap. You could feel his warm breath brush your face, and he got an amused look on his face as he gazed at you.

Your eyes widened naturally with the proximity, and after a moment of silence and staring at each other, you opened your mouth you speak. But before you could, Raph began rapping along to the song playing from Mikey's speaker, a growing smirk on his face and a unique glint in his hazel eyes as he watched you.

"She could ride my face, I don't want nothin' in return. Except for some her time and all her love, that's my concern. I'm tryna buy my neighbor's house..."

The eye contact he was giving you in this moment could only be described one way: heavy. And your face turned beet red. The closeness, his gaze, his smirk, the words- it was all too much for your poor heart to take.

"R-raph, w-what are you doing?"

"I'm just bumpin' some tunes, dollface."

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danaewrites · 4 months

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you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.6k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.

Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.

Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”

You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.

Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.

“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”

“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.

Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”

He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”

“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.

“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.

Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.

You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.”

Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.

Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”

There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?”

Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about.

Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”

James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.

Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.

James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”

Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”

Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.”

You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?”

You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.”

You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.”

Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”

You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.

Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile.

“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly.

Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”

Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.

You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”

You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression.

“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!

He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.”

You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”

You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”

“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone.

“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you.

Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently.

You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.

“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.

James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation.

You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP

You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–

“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?

You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–

His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”

You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?”

He thought your eyes were pretty?

James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out.

Oh. Had you said that out loud?

But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–

Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.

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norris-lando · 8 months

Text

it's nice to have a friend

Lando Norris x reader, mentions of Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings: smut, angst, fighting, breakup

author's note: Soooo... This was inspired by so many songs, I'm not going to list them all but the songs are by Taylor Swift, Gracie Abrams and Sabrina Carpenter. It's a longish one with a few twists. I hope you like it! :)

word count: 6.1k

school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one, 'wanna hang out?', yeah sounds like fun

You went through your camera roll and found the perfect pictures, adding them to your post. Under them you wrote, 'Bestest birthday to my partner in crime!!! 🩷 I love you and can't wait to celebrate your special day with you soon xx'. You made sure to tag Lando and pressed post.

The two of you had known each for what felt like forever. Growing up next to each, you spend most of your childhood playing at your house or his parents cabin during your shared family trips.

Throughout the years you knew each other, everything always stayed the same between the two of you. Your relationship never changed or shifted. You stayed friends no matter what and whatever either of you went through in life, you knew you could trust the other with it.

It was always nice to know you had someone standing in your corner.

—

When Lando became more well known in the media, people obviously started to question your relationship. Or more so if you really were just friends. You were known for your online banter, posting pictures of each other and just the kind of all around 'act' you two had. And sure, it could sometimes seem like there was something more going on but it was never the case. Making it easy for the two of you to just brush off those kind of allegations.

But when Lando started seeing someone, a special someone, you couldn't help but feel just a little jealous. Not that you would ever admit it to him, you pushed those feelings away the best you could.

You were just friends after all, right? And nothing could ever come between you.

we were supposed to be just friends, you don't live in my part of town but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, depending on what kind of mood and situation-ship I'm in and what's in my system

It was Lando's birthday party. Everyone was invited.

You walked in to the bar and searched around the room for a familiar face. It was jam-packed but soon enough you spot the birthday boy himself.

Lando was leaning against the bar, waiting for a drink he had just ordered. A smile appeared on his face when he saw you and he waved for you to come over.

For a moment you could swear he was eyeing you in a way he hadn't before. The way someone might when they see someone they like. But you assumed it was nothing as you made your way over to him. He was dating someone else anyway so nothing could happen between the two of you even if you wanted to.

A part of you wondered where his new girlfriend was. You hadn't yet seen her anywhere although you had assumed she would have been all over Lando. Usually that was always the case and sometimes you even felt bad for Lando. The poor guy was trying to exist but his girlfriend was always there, lurking around some corner, not wasting any time to cling herself to Lando's side. However, not wanting your mood to affect your night, you pushed away the thought of his girlfriend.

Lando had taken it upon himself to order you a drink, knowing full well what you wanted. He pushed it towards you, sliding it on the countertop. He still had that stupid big but cute smile on his face. You pulled him in for a tight hug and congratulated him yet again on his birthday.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he held onto your body. You could have stayed like that all night but you pulled away soon enough. The smell of his cologne still lingering in the air around you.

You couldn't help yourself. You had to ask. "Where's your girlfriend?" The music was loud so you had to yell. And the smile on Lando's lips finally seemed to shy away a little.

"She had a work thing she couldn't miss," he said sheepisly as his gaze went around the room. As if looking for a way out of what could easily became a really awkward conversation. "Come on, let's go sit down. The rest of the grid is waiting for you." Lando took your hand and led you through the crowd of people.

In the back of your mind you kept feeling like Lando was rushing to keep the conversation away from his girlfriend and you couldn't help but wonder why it was so. You kept the thought to yourself however as you let Lando guide you to a more secluded section of the bar.

Everyone was so happy to see you. You squeezed yourself in between Lando and Charles on the small couch and set your drink on the table.

Tonight was going to be one special night, you thought to yourself as you looked around and relaxed. If only you'd know exactly how special this night was going to be...

You weren't sure how many drinks you had downed by the end of the night but it was enough to get you drunk. And when the night was nearing to its end, the only thing on your mind was fast food and a comfy bed to sleep in.

You had went around the party saying your goodbyes to everyone before you went to find Lando and tell him you were going to head home.

"I'm coming with you," was all he said. Before you could argue back, tell him that he should stay - it was birthday party after all - you found yourself outside waiting for your ride that Lando had arranged.

You slipped into the back of the taxi with Lando trailing in after you. He gave the driver the adress before closing the door and joining you in the backseat.

The ride back felt fast and suddenly you found yourself stumbling up the steps to your door. Lando held you tightly by the waist making sure you wouldn't fall over. A giggle left your lips as his hands were holding onto you, tickling you somehow.

"What's so funny," Lando asked. It was dark inside your apartment but you could make out Lando's features and saw a small smile on his confused looking face.

Another giggle came out. "You," you blurted just as you felt your legs about to give in. Lando caught you just in time, picking you up in his arms, whispering something about taking you straight to bed.

"We'll get that take out tomorrow morning," he told you, referring back to your cab drive where you had told him you wanted fries and a cheeseburger.

You tried to convince him that you weren't that tired yet. That you could handle some food before passing out but he didn't listen to you. Instead, Lando led you straight to bed.

Upstairs, Lando opened the door to your bedroom. He put you down gently on one side before moving the covers and telling you to roll over. You did as you were told and snuggled under the covers.

"Please stay with me," you whispered gently as Lando was about to leave the room to go sleep on your couch.

Your words made Lando froze for a moment, contemplating if it was a good idea. He had never told you but he had had feelings for you for a while but never acted on them, thinking you only saw him as a friend. Hope arose in his chest when he heard your words.

But things were different now. He was in a relationship and couldn't act on his feelings, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Stay," you said again, more pleading this time and Lando couldn't help himself. He climbed into bed with you and turned on his side so that the two of you were facing each other.

A smile was playing on your lips as you looked at Lando. He was smiling too.

You tried to control yourself but you leaned in a little closer, scooting over to him so that your lips were only inches away before you closed the gap and kissed him.

Both of you were taken aback by what just happened. You soon however relaxed into the feeling. Lando's hands moving over your body as the kiss grew more passionate with each passing second.

There was a nagging feeling in Lando's chest. He was going to regret this in the morning but he couldn't help himself. He had wanted you for so long as more than a friend.

It didn't take long before your clothes were falling on the floor. Lando climbed on top of you, holding his body up with his arms. The two of you stared at each other as if you were not sure what to do next, not knowing where this moment was going to lead to.

"Are you sure?" Your voice felt small around the tension in the room, both of you knowing full well what you were referring to.

"I'm sure," Lando whispered back as your lips crashed together. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently grabbed his hair, pulling, keeping him close to your face. It felt like no matter how close you were together, it still wasn't enough.

Lando pulled away from your kiss. A groan left your lips at the loss of contact. You were almost pouting, thinking this was it. That Lando had changed his mind, come to his senses and realised that what was going to happen wasn't right.

It didn't last long as you soon felt Lando make his way down, leaving wet kisses behind all over your body. He made his way in between your legs and placed a small kiss on your clit. This time it was a moan that escaped your lips. Your hips buckled upwards, showing Lando how eager you were.

There was a vibration, Lando was chuckling. "Let me take my time," he said as his fingers went up and down your wet pussy before pushing first one, then two, inside you. He was curling them as you felt them hit your g-spot. You were soon a moaning mess under his touch.

"Please- Lando, I want-" You couldn't finish your thought as you felt Lando's movements become faster and faster. He shushed you as he hoisted himself back up, his face inches away from yours.

"I want you too, so bad," he told you as you could feel his cock on your entrance. It didn't take long before he pushed it inside you.

Lando was moving his hips back and forth. The two of you moaning and groaning loudly. Everything felt so surreal and so good and you wondered why you hadn't confessed your feelings to Lando before.

It didn't take long for the two of you to finish nearly simultaneously, your orgasms leaving you both breathless. Lando collapsed next to you as you tried to catch your breath.

You turned your head so that you were looking at him. Lando was on his back, a small smile playing on his lips. You scooted closer to him, letting your head rest on his chest. Lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer. He placed a small kiss on the top of your head and soon the two of you were fast asleep.

friends breakup, friends get married, strangers get born, strangers get buried, trends change, rumors fly through new skies but I'm right where you left me

The morning after Lando's birthday party, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window as sun peeked through the closed curtains. There was a pounding in your head as memories from last night flooded your mind but you couldn't help but smile.

You rolled around in your bed, turning on your side so that you could face Lando who you'd remembered had fallen asleep in your bed after your shared night together. But to your surprise he wasn't there. The bed was empty apart from you and it suddenly felt cold.

You listened closely for a moment, thinking Lando must have gotten up and went to make you breakfast. Or maybe he, too, had a pounding headache and a horrible hangover and he had gone to rummage around your cabinets in the search of a cure.

Taking your phone from the bedside table and going over Instagram and other social media, you got up from the bed and made your way around the house. Lando was nowhere to be seen and you got a sort of nagging feeling. Or maybe it was more of sickness in the pit of your stomach. You weren't sure if it was the hangover or the guilt from your last night actions but you knew you had to rush to the bathroom before you threw up all over the floor.

Days passed and you hadn't heard from Lando. Each day, you tried to call him, leaving him multiple voicemails and texts but he didn't answer any of them. You felt angry. Betrayed. Lando knew what he was doing that night. He told you he was sure. He had said to you that this was what he wanted. And now what? Had he changed his mind and now wanted nothing to do with you? It felt unfair to you. Had you really lost your lifelong best friend over a stupid, drunken mistake?

If you had known that this was how it was going to be, you'd never gone to that stupid party. You would have stayed at home alone. At least then you would still have your best friend.

she looks nothing like me so why do you look so happy, now I think I get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite

Instagram had become your worst nightmare. In fact, all of social media had become your worst nightmare. You had tried your best to stay away from it all but somehow you always found yourself on Lando's pages, trying to make out what he was doing and who he was with whenever he posted something.

And then one night just as you were about to put your phone away and stop your stalking you saw something you wished you could unsee.

A picture of Lando and his girlfriend was staring right at you. You couldn't look away so you stared at the picture for a godawful time, embarrassed at your own behaviour. Lando had taken his girlfriend to Paris and now you could see for yourself just how happy the two of them looked together, posing under the Eiffel Tower.

Thoughts were racing around your mind but one struck out more than the others. She doesn't look anything like me so why is he looking so happy? In fact, she looked exactly like all those girls you had spent the better half of your teenage years making fun of with Lando.

The feeling of betrayal came rushing back. Why did he get to be all happy and in love? He was the one who cheated. Why were you the one who was suffering from the consequences? It wasn't fair.

you say 'I don't understand' and I say I know you don't, we thought a cure would come through in time now I fear it won't

It had been a few weeks since you had last seen or spoken to Lando. To be fair, you had been busy with your own work and hadn't really even managed to make time for anything else. Still, knowing the possibility of running into him during the Silverstone GP was enough to make you feel sick.

Your absence at the races hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of grid. They had all already gotten used to your presence at almost every GP and now that you weren't there, it felt like something was missing.

So, one night as you had been at home, making yourself dinner after a long day at work, you were surprised to see Charles text you. He had started to worry about your absence and wanted to know if everything was alright and if you were going to make an appearance at the British race during the weekend.

Maybe Lando hasn't told anyone about your shared night together, you thought, maybe he regrets what happened.

The two of you ended up calling, finding it easier to speak over the phone rather than text, racking up an impressive few hour long phone call. Which, much to your dismay, had ended with you promising to go to Silverstone the following weekend. Charles, however in hopes of making the appearance easier for you, had promised that you could stay at the Ferrari Garage the whole time. Making it less likely for you to see or run into Lando, or his girlfriend for that matter.

And though the idea of going to Silverstone wasn't all that high on your list of things to look forward to, you still felt glad after talking to Charles. It felt good to know that there was someone willing to listen to you talk about your feelings regarding Lando. Charles seemed to understand and you were thankful for that.

You hated to admit it but it had started to feel like Lando wasn't really understanding where you were coming from. The ball had started rolling when you ended up sleeping together and it felt like Lando left you all alone in that situation.

There used to nothing that could come between the two of you. Now? Now it felt so tiring to try to make things right. Your feelings regarding everything were nothing but an imposition to Lando.

You had done all that you could. You tried to make amends, to talk to him about what had happened. But he wasn't fighting on the same side with you anymore - he was behind the enemy lines. And he was losing you.

and part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, i'd hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different, 'cause part of me wants you back but i know it won't work like that, huh?

It was a sunny day in Silverstone. You were walking around the paddock, making your way to the Ferrari garage where Charles was probably already waiting for you.

"Hey," a familiar voice said behind you. You froze in your tracks for a moment before turning around to see Lando. You didn't know what to say or how to react so you just stood there, dumbfouned.

"It's been a while, huh?" Lando tried his best to mask the guilt he was feeling with a small chuckle but wasn't sure he managed. He took a step closer to you as you took a step back at the same time. "Look, y/n, I'm really sorry-"

You cut him off before he could say anything more. "Don't apologize, Lando, please. It's been hard enough as it was. There is no need to make matters worse."

To be honest, you were surprised by your own words but they were all true. It had been hard knowing Lando was out there somewhere living his life without you. These last few weeks had felt like you were stuck, unable to move on. Maybe that's what it's like losing your bestfriend, you had thought.

"Make matters worse- Y/n, what are you on about?" Lando's words cut through like a knife, making it seem like this was all your fault. "I wanted to apologize for ignoring you but it seems like it's not me who should be apologizing right now."

Anger was boiling inside of you. You couldn't believe Lando's arrogance. And though, you didn't want to cause a scene, you couldn't just stand there in silence.

"I'm not sure what dreamland you're living in but if I remember correctly we both agreed to do what we did the night of your birthday party. So, you can't put the blame all on me." Silence. You thought about your words - the ones you had just said and the ones you were about to say. "I knew it was a mistake but I didn't wanna believe you would think that, too, cause I love you and I thought that maybe you'd feel the same way."

Lando looked unsure. Like he didn't exactly know what you meant. Of course he loved you too, you were his best friend and had been since the two of you were kids. That hadn't changed during recent time apart and Lando was certain it would never change.

But then it clicked and he suddenly understood it all too well. Guilt rushing to him as he realized his mistake. He had, more or less, accidentally led you on.

He never meant to hurt you but that night and morning after felt like a blur to him. He was afraid and just bolted before you woke up. Why he didn't answer all those times you tried to call and text, he couldn't provide an answer for. He felt bad and once enough time had passed, it was harder and harder to make things right.

"I didn't come here to ruin your day so I'll just get going," you had started to walk away now but still called out to him with your back turned to him, "have a great rest of your life, you dickhead."

Lando stayed still for a moment, processing your words. Did you really mean that? Did you really not want to see him anymore? Have anything do with him? Had he really lost his friend, his best friend, over something so stupid?

If only Lando could go back in time, he'd make things right.

and I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit whole, long story short it was the wrong time//pushed from the precipice, clung to the nearest cliff, long story short it was the wrong guy

The summer break had started. And after the mess at Silverstone, you and Charles had grown closer. Though, you had always been friends, now that Lando was out of the picture, Charles and you spent even more time together.

He had taken Lando's place in your life. The two of you going out to dinner, having movie nights and just all around spending time together.

At first it was all platonic. Neither of you really looking for anything more than just friends to share the ups and downs of life with. But something happened and you two started dating. Agreeing to take things slow in order to avoid a catastrophe.

It was strange for a while but it felt nice to have someone you share everything with now that Lando wasn't that person for you anymore. You started to feel happier each day and it was all because of Charles.

The thought of Lando still stung whenever it crossed your mind. It wasn't easy to leave him behind. You had grown so accustomed to him being there for you through thick and thin. And sometimes it felt almost like the ultimate betrayel, replacing him with Charles. But you made your peace with it just as Lando had made his when he chose to walk away that one morning.

so we could call it even, you could call me 'babe' for the weekend, 'tis the damn season, write this down

It felt like a bad dream when Charles told you. A couple of guys from the grid had made plans for a little get-together over the summer. And though usually you'd be excited to spend time with everyone, now you dreaded it.

"We don't have to go," Charles said reassuringly when he saw the look on your face. "Or I can go alone, whatever's fine with you." He was so sweet and kind and considerate, and you felt bad about not wanting to go.

The two of you had managed to keep your relationship sort of private so far but you had talked about the possibility of going more public. With only a few of your closest friends aware of your situation so far, you figured this was a great way to catch everyone up.

So, with slightly gritted teeth, you agreed to go with Charles to the get-together. Nothing bad could happen anyway, right? You were grown ups. You and Lando could handle being in the same room together. Besides, you had both moved on. Maybe this could be a good time to try to reconnect with a certain, and once very dear, old friend.

The night went on quite nicely. Everyone was so happy to be there, to see you. Everyone but Lando. The second you got there, you could see something was bothering him. You tried to ignore it, deciding it was for the best. You told yourself he could come talk to you if he wanted to.

You were outside the venue, looking out at the sea, admiring the view. You heard someone walk over and take a stand next to you. You didn't bother to look, you knew who it was.

"I'm happy for you," Lando said sheepishly.

"Are you?" You didn't mean for it sound so accusing and you hoped Lando didn't pick up on it. You didn't want to fight anymore. If anything, you wanted your friend back.

"Look, I'm trying my best here."

"I know. Me too. I'm sorry," you offered with a small smile.

Lando smiled back at you. The two of you exchanged apologizies, going back and forth with who to blame for your fall out. It came to an end when you finally agreed it was probably just as much both of your fault.

You felt happy for the first time in what felt like forever. Though you were happy with Charles, this was different. You felt like maybe you finally had your friend back.

"I broke up with her," Lando said after a moment of silence.

You walked closer to him, hesitating for a while before you pulled him in for a hug. He didn't have to say how he felt, you knew.

"Do you remember when we were like 5 or 6 and you tried to make me feel better after I found out that Brad from school didn't like me back? I was heartbroken."

Memories pulled you back. You came home from school, tears in your eyes as Lando trailed behind you. He was calling your name but you ignored him. So he ran after you, catching you just as you were about to walk inside.

"And I promised that when we grew up, I'd marry you and love you so much that you'd forget about stupid Brad," he said finishing your trip down memory lane. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled away from the hug.

"Yeah," you started, "I guess if things had been different..."

Something stopped you from finishing your thought. But Lando knew what you meant without you even saying it. There was a sting in his chest. He had almost lost you and he didn't like the feeling. He didn't want to risk doing something that would end with you walking away from his life completely. Even though deep down he had started to feel like being friends wasn't enough anymore.

Or maybe it never had been.

"There you are," Charles called out to you. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

You took a step back from Lando, startled at the sight of Charles. You had almost forgotten about him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," you hurried, "I just needed to get some air."

Lando was hovering by your side as Charles' gaze flicked between the two of you. He had a knowing smile on his face. He was happy to see you two getting along. It had pained Charles to hear you talk about Lando. Charles knew how close you were and he hated seeing you and Lando in pain.

It was awkward for a moment. None of you saying or doing anything until Lando broke the silence.

"I should get going," he offered you a small smile and patted Charles on the shoulder as he walked past him, leaving you and Charles alone.

Charles walked over to you and you extended your arms to pull him in for a hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. The two of you exchanged a few words about the night before you walked back inside.

do you remember, happy together, I do, don't you? // thought you'd hate me but instead you called and said I miss you, I caught it

You had left Monaco to visit your parents back at home in London before you, too, had to get back to work.

You didn't know it but Lando was in London as well. He had a good relationship with your parents, having spent most of his childhood with them almost as much as his own parents. So, one night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock.

"I'll get it," you called out to your parents as you made your way to the front door.

Lando stood there with a smile on his face. "Hi," was all he said as he couldn't help but burst into a laugh as he saw your confused look.

"What- What are you doing here?" You turned to look behind you before you took a step forward, closing the front door quietly. You were happy to see Lando though you certainly weren't expecting him to show up unannounced.

He gave you a shrug, "I heard you were here and I wanted to see you before the break ended."

Lando could see you weren't exactly happy with his explanation but he didn't care. He didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to tell you how he felt about you. About everything. This was his grand romantic gesture.

The two of you ended up sitting on your parent's front porch for hours. Talking about everything that had happened over the summer, the conversation at first being very casual.

"Look, y/n, I-" Lando started but couldn't find the words. He took a deep breath, hoping to find courage with the inhale. "Okay, here goes-

After what happened that one night, I was a mess. I didn't know what was right so I just ignored you. And then I saw you with Charles and you seemed so happy and then we talked and I-

I love you, y/n, and not just a friend. And I know you're with Charles and I don't wanna come between you but I just can't not tell you how I feel. I already messed up once by not telling you so I just can't not say this right now."

Silence filled the air. You kept your eyes fixated on Lando but didn't say anything. You barely dared to breathe, afraid it might cause an explosion.

After what felt like an eternity for Lando, you got up from your spot. A fear crept down Lando's spine. This was it, he thought, now he lost you for good.

"I should head to bed, I have to get up early tomorrow," was all you could say. Thoughts spinning in your head, you were sure you wouldn't be able to get any sleep but you were certain you couldn't sit here any longer.

Lando got up as well and just stood there in silence as he watched you make your way inside.

"Goodnight, Lando."

With that, the door closed right in front of him and he could feel his life shattering into a million little pieces.

and i guess we fell apart in the usual way and the story's got dust on every page but sometimes i wonder how you think about it now and i see your face in every crowd

The sun was setting over the horizon. It was warm and the sky was painted in a beautiful color. It was a perfect ending for a perfect day.

You had your arm wrapped around Charles' as your head rested on his shoulder. The two of you walking down the streets of Monaco after having a nice dinner at a nearby restaurant.

You were happy but there was an unexplainable sense sneaking in slowly. It felt like a fire that was burning you inside out that started after you and Lando saw each during the grid get-together. And it kept getting worse and worse, your secret rendezvous in London not helping.

Charles came to a sudden stop. He had his gaze fixated on you, a look of concern plastered across his face. You thought maybe he had said something but when you asked, he just stood there quietly now holding both of your hands in his.

"Y/n, I've really enjoyed this time we've spent together," Charles started and you knew where this was going.

"I really care about you and like you, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't change a thing that has happened. But I can see how Lando looks at you and how you look at him."

Charles let go of your hands and there was an empty feeling left. You tried to say something but Charles pulled in for a hug.

"I don't wanna stand in between you and Lando, y/n. And I'm not angry or sad. I want what's best for you."

You understood where this was coming from. And surprisingly, you didn't feel sad, either. Your time with Charles had just ran its course. There was no bad blood between the two of you. Surely, you could stay friends after all this.

The two of you pulled away from your hug. Charles had a small smile on his lips that you reciprocated. Everything was okay.

The rest of your evening was spent walking around the streets aimlessly. Neither of you wanting to let go of these final moments together as something more than just friends but less than lovers before you ultimately had to.

small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight, the light reflects the chain on your neck, he says look up and your shoulders brush, no proof, one touch but you felt enough // you are in love, true love

The rain was pouring down with force and you were soaking wet. There was a tenseness in you as you stood outside Lando's apartment shivering, wondering if you should knock.

The door in front of you opened suddenly and you stood face to face with Lando. This time, the surprise was evident on his face as a small smile crept on yours.

"Hi," you said carefully, as if inspecting the situation.

It was getting cold in your drenched clothes and you were starting to shiver. Lando noticed that and rushed to pull you inside. He didn't want you to catch a cold, though he still didn't have any idea as to why were standing outside his apartment in the first place.

"Come on," he said, not wanting to push things but instead allowing you to say whatever you wanted on your own terms whenever you were ready. "Let's get you some dry clothes."

You followed Lando through his home, taking in your surroundings as if it was your first time visiting. As if you hadn't once spent almost half of your time here, with or without Lando. It felt strange to be back but it also felt like coming home.

Lando rummaged through his closet. You were fidgeting with your hands, nerves building up with each second.

"Here," Lando threw you pieces of clothing, "try these."

You caught them and stared at the clothes in your hands.

"You can go change in the bathroom if-" Lando started but you cut him off.

"I love you," was all you said before taking a deep breath. "I love you and I don't mean that as just a friend. I've loved you for you so long now and I hope I'm not too late in telling you this."

Silence filled the space. There was a gap between you and Lando but it soon closed as Lando rushed over to you, pulling you in for a kiss. His hands cupped your face and you relaxed into the warm feeling.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that," he said as he pulled away, his hands still on your cheeks.

A wide smile spread on your lips as you looked in to Lando's eyes. It felt like a dream to be standing here, after all this time and all that hardship it took you to get to this point. But you were happy. You both were happy. And in love.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #writingln4 #writing itsnicetohaveafriend

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elcpsstuff · 10 months

Text

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F)

Summary: Y/N couldn’t wait until the days she could return to cousins, but this summer was different. After boundaries were broken and mistakes were made from the summer before, all she wants to do is forget. But when you live with the mistakes you made, how can you not remember?

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, sexual content, swearing, angst and fluff, cancer mentions and treatment.

A/N: First story! Had the inspiration due to tsitp season 2 coming out. Also intense love square warnings and slow burn so be prepared, please enjoy!

—

(THIS STORY UNDER REVISION)

Note to readers: Hi guys! first of all, thank you so much for the love on this story. This was my first ever time writing a full story like this and the fact that you guys love it so much makes me happy inside you have no idea :0 However, after months i’m not very happy with how this story ended up. I had a very different plan when beginning it and the story kind of went off the rails. So, while I appreciate the love on the story it will be re written in some aspects! Some things will stay the same but I feel like this is for the best to fix the plot lines. Thank you! <3

—

I felt the sun burn my face through the window, and I was immediately awoken. I looked around to see Belly and Steven jamming out in the front. I looked to the left of me to see an angry Laurel shaking her head at their screams.

“Ah! Y/N! You’re awake?” Steven says, and I roll my eyes at him. Peering back out the window, I saw the cousins beach sign pop up, and a smile appeared across my face.

“You all know what I said earlier, right?” Laurel looks at all of us, “You need to be better this summer. Last summer was.. it was..” she trailed off and I felt the heat of the car pool into me and suddenly I was rolling the window down.

Summer. It was my favorite thing in the whole world, but, things were different now. I was different.

I’ve been coming to cousins since I was a baby, but it wasn’t always with the Conklin’s. My mom and Susannah grew up together, and often not she would come to cousins with her a lot. Then in college, they met Laurel who eventually married my mom’s brother, John.

I lived right down the street from my cousins during the school year, and then with them in the summer. Steven always used to joke claiming we were the “coolest cousins in cousins.”

Weird right?

Everything was normal until it wasn’t. Until my parents were driving home through a bad storm and there car swerved right into a drunk drivers.

sweetie, it’s your parents.

they got in a car crash, and are in critical condition.

they didn’t make it—

They died this September, and that’s when I moved right next door in with my cousins. Nothing really changed, we were always inseparable but now we just lived together.

Anyways, i told myself now was the time to move on. I grieved all this year and did the bare minimum to pass sophomore year with Belly, but I survived.

“I’m gonna be sick if I sit in this car with Steven driving any longer.” Belly looked back at me with a wink. Our favorite hobby was annoying Steven.

“Better then you, you’ll be dead within a week once you get your license—” He paused, “Actually, make that a day—”

Laurel smacked the back of Stevens seat, “Don’t make jokes about that.” Steven rolled his eyes until he realized what Laurel meant and his face went red.

I smirked, “Yeah Steven, are you wishing death on me?”

“i think death is afraid you, Y/N.”

—

As Steven honked his horn, I felt the cousins breeze pass my face. There was nothing more beautiful than this. Susannah came running out, with Jeremiah not too far behind.

Belly took Jeremiah by surprise, due to her huge glow up. I stood there watching them hug, with a knowing look on my face. Belly’s crush on Jeremiah wasn’t as oblivious as she intended it to be.

Jeremiah put Belly down and looked my way, a smile spreading across his face. “Look at.. you.” My face felt flushed and he ran up to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me around.

“Jeremiah! Put me down!” I pleaded, but he kept spinning me until I I felt like throwing up. Asshole.

“You look nice.” He says, once again. I smirk and ruffle his hair a little bit.

Jeremiah puts me down and rushes over to Steven, when a bruiting cloud appears over the house. I look at their silhouette and feel my body tense up.

Conrad. Conrad. Conrad.

My feelings for the eldest fisher brother were obvious, at least to Belly and Susannah. But after everything that happened with my parents, I was different. And besides, I really didn’t want to think about everything that happened last summer. Me and him.

“Y/N, you look beautiful.” Susannah says, pulling me into a hug. I feel her warmth radiate onto me and I embrace it. Susannah was the sun that shined over the house, and the clouds never worried her at all. In fact, she could probably find positive things about the clouds. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I missed you, Susannah.” She smiles and leads us all into the house. The boys grabbed Belly and did their whole Belly flop thing. I just watched from inside the house with Laurel and Susannah.

Being back in cousins was amazing, but something just felt different this year. I mean - things were different. A lot had changed. I felt a hand behind me and turned around to the beautiful blonde women.

“Have you spoken to Conrad yet?” She almost whispers. Damn it. Fuck.

“Umm, maybe?” I basically spat while saying it.

“He misses you, Y/N.” Susannah has a way of saying things that almost made me believe it. Believe anything. Anything but this.

“Please, say hi at least?” She pleads. How could I say no to her? But how could I say hello to him..?

I smiled at her, not wanting to ruin the mood. She walked towards the family room beside Laurel and Belly comes dripping inside.

“Belly! Don’t get me wet!” I yell at her, but with a playful tone.

“Blame the boys, not me.” I looked towards the patio and saw Conrad sitting outside. He looked back at me. Fuck, fuck again. I should make Susannah happy, I have to.

Before I can go outside he turns the corner, and he’s gone.

I sigh and walk out the door and near the pool, maybe If i just wait he’ll come back. Then again, I’ll look totally desperate. Maybe i’ll just go inside again—

“Hi.” I freeze. I turned around to see him standing in front of me with a half smile.

“Hey.” I say. Dry.

“How are you?” He says, and there’s a million things I could say.

“You know, i’m decent. I’m here.” I use my hands to express what I’m trying to say but it just comes out weird.

“Right, that’s good. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

There was an awkward tension wafting in the air and I nodded before rushing back into the house, not daring to look back at him.

—

I really didn’t want to talk about Conrad. Or anything. I was moody because apart of me loved cousins but after being here for a couple of hours I just wanted my parents back.

“He feels different this summer, you know?” She says, flopping onto my bed.

Believe me, I had noticed. I caught him smoking a joint after I abruptly ran away from him. I pretended to know nothing, though.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Really? I thought you would notice, you’re like all crushy about him.”

I laughed, “Crushy is not a word.”

“You get what I mean. Like, did you even say hello to him? Like a normal person?”

I grabbed her by the sides and started tickling her, “Isabel Conklin, since when did you get so mean?” I finally let go after a good minute and we were both breathless on the bed.

“I’ve changed. We both have.” She sat up, bringing me along with her. “I mean, we’re hot now. This is our summer.”

I looked into the nearby mirror and couldn’t help but frown. This was supposed to be our summer, but what was summer without my mom? Without things ever being normal again?

—

“I’m so happy we’re all here.” Susannah said, raising a glass at the dinner table.

We all just nodded and let Susannah talk about all the things she wanted to do this summer, which led her to pull out two cards from her pocket.

“What are those?” Belly says before I can ask.

“I wrangled Belly and Yn an invitation to be a debutante!”

Oh gosh. Susannah handed me and Belly the invites and a harsh breeze passed through the air as I recognized these all too well.

“My mom wanted me to do this. She talked about it earlier this year before—” I stopped myself, but it was too late. Everybody knew.

I could feel Conrad’s eyes on mine. All the memories seeping in. We’re my lungs closing in? That’s what it felt like. Belly smiles.

“That sounds like so much fun!” Steven let out a laugh, but Laurel was not amused.

“Those balls are ridiculous. Yn and Belly are not fit for that at all.”

Belly frowned, “Why?” She was obviously more eager to participate in this than I was.

Susannah offered me a small smile, “At least think about it? It will give you two a chance to meet some new people.”

I looked down at the paper, and even though I didn’t want to, I just couldn’t say no, and maybe it was my mother but I couldn’t.

“I’ll think about it.”

—

A/N: What do you guys think? Sorry this chapter is kinda short and slow, it’s an introduction lol. The next one will be coming out very soon!

#conrad x reader #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #team jeremiah #love #summer love #chris briney #gavin casalegno #belly conklin #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp

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elvisalltheway101 · 4 months

Note

Please could you write a fanfiction where the reader has anxiety and hypochondria and Big Daddy Elvis is comforting her and reassuring her she's safe?🥺❤️

•••••Head To Toe•••••

Summary: Reader just isn’t feeling the best, and her anxiety isn’t helping her. Elvis makes sure to stand next to your sweet self and help you through it all.

Author’s note: thank you for your request my darling, of course this title was inspired by Lisa Lisa And The Cult Jam’s “Head To Toe.” But anyway, I hope I written this right! As I always say, if you didn’t like this I could always write you a whole new one. I’m not too familiar with hypochondriac so I’m sorry if it’s not exactly right in some ways. Um but yup.

Author won’t zip her lips: another thing, I’m sorry to you and everyone else who probanly want to request more stuff and all that…but the thing is I’m chicken. I’m genuinely chicken because I get overwhelmed at the thought of just having 3 requests. So ahem, apologies 👋

••••••••••••

So much has been on your mind. So much enough that as you lie in your bed and just toss and turn. You feel so off today, and you just feel aware of it all. You simply don’t know what’s going on with yourself!

Possibilities on top of possibilities crowd your mind on why you could be this tired, and lacking your usual energy. Busying yourself while being alone inside the dimly-lit room. Oh my gosh, what if I’m severely sick? Maybe I’m pregnant? Why the heck am I so tired? Wait, or it could be the flu? You gasp to yourself, clasping your dainty hand over your mouth as you continue to grow concerns on your self diagnosing. You inhale a deep breath, “okay, let’s stop playing doctor and try to-“ you exhale out to calm yourself until-

“hunny? Can I come in?” A light knuckle knock is heard and interrupts your thoughts, your head whips to the bedroom door and you hum. You can recognize that southern, sweet honey voice from anywhere.

“of course, Elvis. Come on in,” you hum out softly. Running flat of your palms down the creases of the red duvet to straighten anything besides straight. Make yourself at least a little presentable.

The creaky sound of the door is faint, you glance up to meet your boyfriend’s eyes. Those blue pupils that can capture you dead at any second of the day. You smile gently and wave a small hi, “hey, beautiful.” You sigh out with a soft laugh, trying to seem not at all troubled. But he knows you too damn well now.

“Hi handsome,” he snickers with that lip curl and crawls onto the bed with you. Shuffling into the comfy, velvety crimson sheets. You turn your head to press your forehead to his smooth, freshly shaven cheek. “Baby, what’s going on? I expected to see ya after rehearsals. Ya always come with mah lunch, I missed your pretty ass.” He chuckles out but a soft frown plants onto his face and you only inhale deeply to calm and sort your reasoning.

You find comfort and comprehension when you smell the spicy, homey cologne he wears all day everyday, shrugging shoulder to shoulder. “I-I…I don’t know what’s the matter with me now, I just feel, off.” You admit breathlessly, snuggling up to his side.

He purses his lips and nods understandingly, then wrapping his meaty arms to squish you lovingly into his lap. You smile widely, feeling so comfortable in his embrace. “Oh, m’sorry baby, I didn’t know ya felt like this…why dontcha relax? Ya can postpone the girls’ night out some time soon, and all that.” He says softy, his chubby and squishy chin that you adore rests on the top of your head. Nestled onto the beautiful locks of hair that’s on top of your pretty head.

You pout and bury your face into his neck, your nose into the crease that smells most immaculate. So strong of salty sweat, and tangy, spicy musk of his men’s perfume. “I don’t know how to relax,” you whisper out warmly against his chest. You then gasp and break away in his gentle embrace, with frightened eyes, “what if I’ve got hypochondria! I mean, c’mon that would explain so much-“

“Aw c’mere, my big-a-baby.” He smiles and shakes his head silly at you. His adorable baby. He cuddles you all back to his arms. “Yer fine, my girl. From your head tah toe. I’ll repeat myself, from ya pretty little head to yer itty bitty toes that walk the precious earth, you’re healthy as new. And even if not, and you feel off, like now for example, you’ll get through with it. That’s final.” He reassures sternly but with a heart warming tone.

You’re too fuzzy in love to protest, nodding weakly in his hug and you let out a gentle, “okay, daddy.” You whisper out, fluttering your eyes and wrap your arms to fully embrace your lover.

You find such love and comfort in this moment. From his prodding belly that you mold around just perfectly makes you smile to yourself. Probably healing you. His clothed, big arms trapping you sweetly, making you but yet willingly engulf his signature scent. To the chest hair from years of maturity from boy to man, tickle and scrape against your chin. This is it. This is your lover.

This is your cure.

••••••••••••

#elvis #spotify #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis x y/n #enjoy!#elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fluff #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader fluff #big daddy elvis #bde #bde fluff #big tiddy baby #this man #is mah cure

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pinetreevillain · 6 months

Note

HEY YOU! How dare you inspire me today!? That stuff’s painful! I sat at my desk job all day today not being able to draw and you drop THAT?! Fucking beautiful. I love your art so much. Anyway I went home and chose violence thank you so much. Behold my turtle Casey, he exists because of you.

WOWOW LOOK AT THAT HE’S COVERED IN JAM!!! JUNIOR WHERE DID YOU GET ALL THAT RASPBERRY JAM!!!!!

#paytato435 #ask box

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chessholic · 2 months

Text

The One With

Comfort

ー

　　　　 F R I E N D S

R E A D E R

　　　　ー

Summary: Your boyfriend was a jerk and he broke up with you. Fortunately you had your friends and all of them helped you in their own ways.

ー　

Author's Note: I will forever love Friends, my favourite comfort show. I have a few fics written about Joey, I could maybe publish them. Let's see, I hope you enjoy this.

ー

You stumbled into Monica's and Rachel's apartment.

To simply put it you looked disheveled. Your eyes were slightly red and puffy, hair a mess and your clothes didn't match your jacket or shoes, which was unusual.

You cursed slightly when you could see six pairs of eyes staring at you, of course they were all here. If they were not in the coffee shop they were here.

"Y/N?", Monica asked rushing towards you from the kitchen.

"What happened?", she asked worriedly and brushed your messed up hair behind your ears. Monica also helped you out of your jacket and helped you to sit on the couch.

Chandler was sitting on the other side and you could see he was holding back some sarcastic comments about your current state.

You were slightly glad, you always found him funny, but this was definitely not the moment.

Phoebe had been sitting on the floor in front of the television. She had her guitar and was writing down something, probably a new song for next week.

Central Perk was in for a treat.

The song title was 'My mother was killed by a drug dealer, my mother was a drug dealer'.

Joey was in the kitchen sitting at the table finishing off something from the fridge it was apparently a jar of jam, maybe blueberry jam. However his eyebrows were scrunched in worry.

Rachel was sitting around the table too with Ross, both looking slightly amazed at Joey's eating, that wasn't probably his first jar of jam.

They were probably leaving to go on a date soon, because they were all dressed up. It made your heart ache.

"He left me", sob escaped your mouth shortly after your confession.

The apartment was filled with different reactions.

Monica was first to close you into a tight embrace petting your hair.

"I am so sorry, we could bake cookies today and burn some of his belongings?", your friend suggested while trying to calm you down. She was quick to offer you a tissue box.

"He took them with his new girl when he came and broke up with me", you cried still distraught about the fact he had cheated and moved on so fast like you never existed.

"Let's burn him instead, yea?", Chandler proposed and scooted closer to you rubbing your back slightly awkwardly, you knew it wasn't his expertise to console someone if sarcasm was off the table.

You let out a watery laugh muttering a quiet thanks to him.

"Yeah, we don't need to go with Ross, he was anyways taking us to some lecture about... Rocks", Rachel joined walking towards the living room and stole you from Monica. While Ross choked up.

"They are not rocks, they are... Well technically they are..."

Rachel hugged you tightly while she gave a deathly glare at Ross shutting him up.

"I am sorry, that jerk didn't deserve you. Let's go shopping some day, okay? We can use my discount", she took your face in her hands and you nodded eyes shining.

In your sad tears had mixed happy tears, you had amazing friends. You couldn't help, but feel thankful.

"My grandmother's taxi can fit a body in the trunk", Phoebe said suddenly getting up to give you a hug.

"Noted, don't piss off Pheebs, ever", Chandler said while others didn't even know what to say. Everyone however had the same question in mind.

"We can also make a song together, I could also use some inspiration and break up songs are hits usually. Especially when the ex was a total asshole", Phoebe stated giving you a hug before returning to her song writing place.

Phoebe turned the paper and made some notes, you couldn't wait to hear what the song was going to be.

"Thank you everyone, I really appreciate you and your help", you thanked them from the bottom of your heart.

"That's what friends are for", Monica stated and everyone nodded agreeing to what she said.

"We are there to help and for each other"

"I can take you on a tour in the museum someday, at least someone appreciates the rocks here", Ross suggested and bitterly muttered the rest of his sentence making Rachel give him another glare which Ross returned.

"Enough with the bickering love birds, I am getting PTSD", Chandler said jumping from the sofa and getting the couples jackets, before throwing them to the owners and ushering the couple towards the door.

"Go, go, out, off you go", Chandler ushered not letting Rachel or Ross protest.

"We got this, have fun with the rocks", Chandler said before slamming the door closed. He looked pleased with himself.

You clapped and he bowed, "That was rather impressive", you confessed.

"Rachel probably hasn't ever left so quickly to anywhere, could be the first time they are on time somewhere", Monica pondered for a moment before heading back to the kitchen.

"You relax and I will prepare the cookie dough. This situation needs cookie dough and ice cream", Monica ordered pointing at you to stay put.

"I might have eaten the ice cream", Joey said quietly with a sheepish look on his face when he avoided looking at Monica's face.

"I will go get more, because I trust myself more than Joey to go get the ice cream", Chandler stated pulling his jacket on.

He quickly came to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I will go get all your favourite ice cream, hold on, although I know it will be difficult without my charming presence and looks"

Phoebe let out a snort earning a glare from Chandler.

"Really needed to twist the knife", he muttered before exiting the apartment.

You quietly sat on the sofa. Phoebe was writing and Monica preparing everything comforting food the world new in the kitchen.

Suddenly the sofa dipped, Joey had sat next to you.

Joey had a small amount of jam on his face, it wasn't much compared to the last time, but still.

You took a tissue you hadn't yet used and cleaned his face. After that he opened his arms to welcome you into a warm embrace. You cuddled next to Joey without a moment of hesitation, pressing your head against his chest you could feel his warmth and heart beat making you relax.

"Finally I got you all to myself", Joey mumbled quietly pressing a small kiss onto your hair.

"I am sorry, you deserve so much more"

Joey's heart was aching for his friend, he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. He would maybe even share his pizza with you...

Maybe a slice.

Yes, a slice was fine.

ー

#friends #joey tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #monica geller #monica geller x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #Rachel green #rachel green x reader #Phoebe Buffay #Phoebe buffay x reader #ross geller #ross geller x reader #fanfiction

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petite-madame · 4 months

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Hey queen! Love your art and have been a fan for a while now.

Just a question out of curiosity: do you do art pieces/“fanarts” for fanfictions? Like, not under commissions because I see you don’t have them open atm, but for bangs or other things. And beside bangs etc, under what circumstances do you draw for fics? I’m just curious because I’ve fallen in love with your art in the life of Bucky Barnes, but I’m not really informed on whether you write your fics and draw for them too or not, or if people base their fics on your art and you just partner up with them.

Your art is kind of like my jam at the moment and I’m looking for as many stories with your art as possible.

Thanks if you’ll answer!

Hi anon ^^

Thank you so much for enjoying my art and for taking the time to contact me, it's very kind of you. 💗

Do you do art pieces/“fanarts” for fanfictions?

Oh yes, I did, tons of them! I used to collaborate A LOT between 2009 and 2015 but then :

I started The Life of Bucky Barnes in 2014, so less time for bangs, as The LoBB was extremely time-consuming

I had big health problem between 2014-2019 so less energy to do bangs (I was afraid to let authors down and not being ready for the deadline so I stopped signing up)

Everything was happening on Live Journal, I found it easy and convenient but when things started to move to Tumblr and that the sign ups + "fic grabbing" system changed (like Google drive forms and whatnot), my old ass dropped bangs entirely. My age is showing. 🤓

Anyway! If you are interested in all the collaborations I did, you'll find everything you need in THIS POST (fics + illustrations). You'll also find a download link to a big PDF with all the illustrations I did for fics from 2010 to 2017 (well, not all of them to be honest because I used to have a NSFW Live Journal account that I also used for bangs but I closed it eventually, same for my NSFW Tumblr account after the great debacle of 2017)

It's a bit different but I can also link you to THIS POST that gathers all the fics inspired by my art (I'm so grateful, you have no idea 🥳)

Under what circumstances do you draw for fics?

Two circonstances:

I sign up for a bang (because I love the ship or the theme of the bang), I see a summary that I like, I grab it and then I illustrate the fic. It can also be the other way around when it's for Reverse Bang for instance: I draw an artwork and an author grabs my art.

I collaborate with friends, fic authors that I met after years in the same fandom even if I must admit I haven't done it in ages.

I hope I answered your questions! Thanks again and have a great week🥰

#pmasks

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luveline · 1 year

Note

What about reader doing eddie’s makeup in the love bites au?

Love your work! <3

thank you for your request! (loosely inspired by that scene in how to lose a guy in 10 days!!) love bites au / vampire eddie ♥︎ fem!reader suggestive content

If there's someone Eddie dislikes more than Blondie, it's Carly Simm. Where Blondie hasn't ever personally done anything to Eddie besides existing as a band, Carly Simm is similarly innocent. Her only crime is writing catchy music that you can't get enough of.

You'd discovered her a week or two ago on the radio, and you'd begged Eddie to turn it up. He loves seeing you happy, and while it isn't his jam he'd happily complied. Same reason he'd bought you the tape.

He regrets it now, sitting in your bed with a lapful of your thighs, your hands tucking hair behind his ears in perfect sync as you hum The Carter Family for the hundredth time today.

"I'm not good," you remind him.

"Sure you are," he reassures, hands slowly climbing the hills of your hips. He slips one under your shirt to squeeze along your back, stopping flat-palmed at the small of it. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"You can touch me as much as you want."

Your confusion prompts a quick explanation, "I meant, I won't distract you?"

"Maybe a little." You smile softly. "We don't have anywhere to be."

You and Eddie only have to be here and now, wasting time together. Spending it together. And truthfully this had been Eddie's idea anyways.

You tap the pads of your fingers to Eddie's face and smile at his tacky skin. "Perfect."

Your methods are dubious, your first course of action is to mix a cream that boasts colour changing technology with a dollop of moisturiser. He closes his eyes and you dot it over his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. You're more delicate near his nose, fingertips precise, the smallest bit of product rubbed into his nose. Next comes the patting, your fingers working over his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get rid of streaks." You sit back. Eddie lets his arms stretch to keep you. "Looking good, handsome."

"Thank you."

You move onto eyeshadow next. You've brought a colourful palette that you bought at the fancy department store before you'd met him, plastic covering still intact. When he'd asked, you'd only said, "I knew I had to save it for something special," like it wasn't the most romantic thing he'd ever heard.

You open the eyeshadow compact and ask Eddie to choose a colour. He goes for the dark, dark navy because there's no black, and you tell him to close his eyes. You swipe your fingers over his eyelid more gently than you need to.

Eddie can hear everything; your heart beating regularly despite his handsy grasp on your hips, your breathing, and the heat that kisses his lips with each exhale, every fraction of sound from the tape deck as it switches to the next song.

"Oh, god, not this one again," he groans.

You start to sway with the music, and then your favourite part comes on and he's expecting it, your hands on his cheeks, fingers careful not to smudge shadow over his temples. You sing lightly, sweetly, clumsy but he wouldn't expect anything less — you aren't the kind of girl who worries about sounding good, and you never have been. "And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner," you sing, pausing to laugh, meeting his eyes with nothing but mirth. "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you! You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is-"

He kisses you by accident. Swears. The look in your eyes had been too much to ignore any longer, that playful teasing, the funny quirk of your mouth as you'd warbled through it. He'd needed to kiss you if only to feel you smiling.

"Never buying you music ever again," he mumbles against you.

You pull back to steal the lead, kissing him quickly, once then twice before you lean back. "You like this song."

"No, I like watching you when you listen to it. Big difference."

You raise your eyebrows and then use your thumbs to force his up too. "We're confused," you say.

His pulse starts to rise. He's become much more acquainted with the physical effects of love since his unfortunate transformation. Every time he thinks he's found the bottom of the well of his affection, you do something that makes his heart skip and he has to reassess.

"You know when you miss the last step?"

You gesture for him to close his eyes. "Like, when you trip?"

"Just miss it completely. Overshot."

Your finger starts to dab the opposite eye. "Mm," you murmur, concentration robbing your voice. He waits for you to finish your pulling motion and squeezes you, code for you've forgotten the conversation.

"I think so," you say eventually.

He opens his eyes. You're looking at the soft glittery colour pensively.

"You know how it makes your stomach flip? Do you think there's a good version of that?"

"Like finding a step where you weren't expecting one?"

"Like, the sudden rush of a good feeling. Molly for a split-second."

"I've never tried molly."

"And you won't," he says, mostly joking.

You take some of the glitter onto your finger and smooth it under his eyes. He looks up at the ceiling and fights the urge to blink as you get close to his waterline. He trusts you not to poke his eyes out.

Your pulse spikes suddenly.

He drops his chin back down. "What?"

Worry gives to amusement when he sees your expression. It's shy (or as shy as you get), which means you're thinking about something very specific.

"You know when we're-"

"Hugging?"

You beam. "Yeah, definitely. And you're all sweaty, and you push your face into my neck?"

Eddie has the good graces to feel flustered. "Yeah."

"Sometimes I think you're gonna bite me. And I get that feeling. 'The sudden rush of a good feeling,'" you confide, hands playing in the hair at the back of his neck. He shudders when you start to scratch his scalp, your smile a short fall from salacious.

Eddie probably wouldn't bite you. He's too worried you'll end up in the same boat as him, a blood-sucker who can't get excited without little knife points slotting out of his gums.

Speaking of.

"Fuck," he mutters. He'd been doing a spectacular job at keeping his fangs in, especially because he's young and you're literally his girlfriend and you're in his lap moving around. They snap into place over his regular canines and blood fills his mouth, gums sliced open.

You wince when he winces. "Sorry, baby."

It's definitely your fault but also he can't really blame you. This is normal flirting between couples, and he does it to himself most the time. It's actually extremely fucking annoying, to be lying in bed at night by himself, and all he wants to do is think about you when boom, there's blood running down his chin.

"You should be," he says. "You suck. Are we almost done?"

"We're done," you say, climbing off of his lap to grab your handheld mirror. "Lookit."

You've actually done a great job. He looks awesome, smokey and sparkly like a glam metal rockstar.

"Flash the fangs," you command.

He flashes the fangs. You put both hands out in front of you and make a pleased sound. He intertwines your fingers.

"You're so cool. You look cool. Can I take a photo?"

"Just for you?"

"Especially for me."

He lets you take a polaroid, smiling with teeth, hair pushed behind one ear. He looks good. A little pale, 'cause he's a week away from a blood sate and his body is taking it hard as it always does, but that's not a bad thing. He'd fit right in at a KISS concert.

You tug the photo out of his hand. "Just for me, you said."

He can't even be mad.

#love bites universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #vampire!eddie munson #vampire eddie au #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fix it

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urfriendlylocalidiot · 1 year

Text

Um so… enjoy whatever this is

Sundays w/ Blackpink

Sundays were simple, really, just a nice and relaxing day with your one and only.

Jisoo

Jisoo is definitely the type to sleep in until like noon at least. However, you are not. So instead you do what any good s/o would do and make her brunch. You wake up at 10am, every Sunday, like clockwork. When you get out of bed though, you always make sure to tuck Jisoo in next to you. You can’t have your baby cold now.

After you freshen up in the bathroom and put some rice down in the rice cooker for the day. You take Dalgom on a walk around the block. As you make your way around the block, you can’t help but smile to yourself at how picturesque your life is. You’re walking the cutest dog on a Sunday morning with the most amazing sunlight.

Eventually, though your walk with Dalgom ends, so you head back up to Jisoo and your’s apartment. You unleash Dalgom so he can run around the apartment and you can get started on breakfast. You decide that easiest is best, especially for lazy Sundays. So you fry up two eggs and put them atop two bowls of rice. You also prepare a plate of kimchi and seaweed. Nothing like an easy breakfast. When you walk into your bedroom with Jisoo, however you find her awake and playing a game on her phone. You give her, her bowl and sit down next to her to watch her game. ‘Thank you jagiya’ she says with a kiss.

Jennie

Goofy mornings. You and Jennie would wake up around the same time and probably get ready together as well. But cuddles first of course, with Jennie being the little spoon. ‘God this is so nice’ you think to yourself. Eventually though when you go in for a kiss, she stops you, “Not before you brush your teeth.” With a groan you roll out of bed and head to the bathroom, Jennie following.

You brush your teeth together, smiling and eventually laughing at each other in the mirror. After you both get cleaned up though, and properly brush your teeth. Jennie gives you a peck on the lips, which you quickly turn into a real kiss. Then you head to the kitchen to make breakfast together, hand in hand.

In the kitchen, Jennie gets started on making your drinks. Coffee for yourself and green tea for her. She will never understand why you need coffee when you have her to energize yourself. However, she’ll make it for you in the mornings anyways, just the way you like it. While she makes the drinks, you get started on breakfast. You decide on a simple breakfast, toast with scrambled eggs. After you put the toast down to start toasting you get started on the eggs. You crack them into the stove and season them. Jennie leans over to give you another kiss, which you turn into a make out session, however soon you both smell a burning smell in the air. “oh no, the eggs!”

Rosé

Cozy, like Rosie. In the best way possible. You’d get up a little before her, and do your bathroom routine. Then, as you were leaving the bathroom to get started on breakfast, she’s just waking up. “Morning, sunshine. I’ll be back with breakfast in a second.” It’d be an easy breakfast though, neither of you are ones to eat too much in the mornings. However it’d still be delicious, since she is Foodsé. Therefore strawberry jam on toast with tea is the perfect breakfast for lazy Sundays in with Rosé.

As you in walk into the bedroom with breakfast, as promised. Rosé is in your shared bed, playing a melody on her guitar. “Babe, what do you think of this?” She plays a short melody on the guitar before turning to you, “It sounds lovely baby, and you could build on it by adding filler strumming if you needed to. I brought you breakfast in bed, babe.” You respond, handing her the breakfast and stealing a kiss.

She continues to play more melodies on her guitar and writing in her lyric book for the rest of the morning. Often turning to you for suggestions and even inspiration. Eventually after you put the dishes in the sink, you pull out your guitar as well and harmonize with her on some of the songs. Sunday mornings with Rosé are filled with music and good food, naturally.

Lisa

“Jagiya, let’s stay in bed a little longer.” “But we need to feed your cats.” Lisa pouts as she attempts to keep you wrapped in her long arms. However she eventually relents when Lily jumps into bed with you guys, clearly hungry. With a smile you lean up to give her a kiss, “I’ll go feed the cats and Love if you want a few more minutes in bed,” you offer. She doesn’t say anything and you make your way out of the bed, to go feed her pets.

As if she was going to just let this moment pass her by though. She grabs her camera off the nightstand and prepares to take the cutest pictures of you feeding her pets. However when she gets to the living room, she finds you in a tug of war with Louis over the cat food box. After snapping a few pictures, whilst laughing at the sight in front of her. She eventually moves Louis off the cat food box and finishes feeding the rest of the cats.

As she does that, you head to the kitchen to cook breakfast, since she can’t. You make Korean pancakes, since you were a little hungry after wrestling with Louis. As you cook, Lisa comes up behind you and wraps her arms around you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you jagiya” You smile under her praise, after you finish cooking, you quickly plate it up. While you two eat, you decide to make plans for the day and week ahead.

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betrayalbracket · 1 year

Text

Welcome, one and all, to the very probably third or fourth ever betrayal bracket!

What is this bracket for, you ask? Simple! We're collecting all of the top 10 32? 48? 64? anime anything betrayals, and then pitting them against each other! All of your favorites. All of your least favorites. Love that guy? Send them in. Hate their guts? Great! Send them in anyways! However, before we get started, of course, we have to cover:

What counts as a betrayal?

A betrayal is, roughly speaking, any time a character acts against another character they claim to be allied with. A betrayal must be willful and conscious to count- if a character is under effects of mind control, being possessed, etc, they are not betraying anyone they act against. However, characters who have been manipulated into acting against their close ones do, for the sake of this bracket, still count- It is still them acting against their friends.

A character needn't be a villain to betray someone! If a hero or a protagonist infiltrates a villain group, pretends to be one of them, and takes them down from the inside, that is still a betrayal. Heroes can betray villains, villains can betray heroes, villains can betray villains, and heroes can betray heroes. Nothing is off the table here. Except, of course, for things that are off the table.

So what is off the table, then?

Any real people. This means the guy who scammed you on Animal Jam, the guy who said they would trim your armor on Runescape, any and all politicians, so on and so forth.

1a. If they're funny, I might consider it. What's funny? What's not funny? We'll see. As an example, though, I might be inclined to include, say, Brutus, of stabbing Caesar fame.

2. Spamming submissions. Just... don't. If you do, I'll steal your porch, ㅤokay?

3. Please, please, PLEASE when you're submitting someone, explain ㅤhow they have betrayed their allies. I live under a rock, so I most ㅤ ㅤlikely don't know. Yes, even that one. Yes, even the obvious ones. ㅤYes, even ones that are in my header. Thank you!

4. That's it! I might limit submissions from a single source if one ㅤㅤ ㅤsource has too many submissions, but for now I simply want to see ㅤwhat we can get!

How will the matchups be determined?

Great question! Matchups will be seeded by the amount of submissions each character gets. The characters with the most submissions will be pitted against those with the least submissions during round 1. This means that the first few rounds will largely be landslide victories, and not very suspenseful. However, it wouldn't be nearly as fun if Reigen vs Sans had been the first poll of the sexyman bracket, would it? We want the real competitions to come later, that's where all the suspense comes in handy!

Wow! What a fun bracket! How can I submit someone!

You can't!

Submissions are now closed. Thank you

Did anyone inspire this bracket?

Oh, absolutely! Our inspirations will be shown under the cut!

@time-traveler-tourney @mad-scientist-showdown @ultimatepinkboy @epicdivorcemantournament @they-are-so-gender @sleepsmackdown @affablyevilshowdown @yellowcharactershowdown @tricksterswagtournament @he-would-not-fucking-say-that @orangecharactersmackdown @autismswagsummit @evilfoundfamilytournament @tournament-winners-tournament @best-support-character @dragon-tournament @babygirl-beatdown @fictional-malewife-tournament @haterbracket@ultimate-tragic-couples-showdown @frogsbrackets @ultimate-rat-bracket @plural-swag-competition @pink-character-tournament @best-train-conductor-competition @servescuntcompetition @artificialkids-2k23-official @battleofthebandstournament @ponysongbracket @bestfictionaldivorce @stachebracket (We have a lot of inspirations, hope that's alright!

#tumblr bracket #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #betrayal #betrayal bracket #betrayal tournament #tournaments #tournament #brackets #bracket #info

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blue-jisungs · 8 months

Note

HI! QUESTION

What is your opinion on rival pirate reader x rival pirate woozi???

:)))

enemies to lovers speed run.

sea salt flavoured kisses

author's note. hehe i feel like this was inspired by the hoshi pirate thingy i wrote….. and my opinion on that is: smash. would write. 10/10 would and will recommend. like. this is my jam, i love writing fics in those settings + WOOZI? E2L? he’s perfect for that. i have another e2l planned with him lmao bye anyway, i hope you enjoy this :D

also tagging @l3visbby bc i promised!! u deserve a gift for working so hard and i hope this can make u feel a bit better teehee

summary. while visiting your hometown, jihoon gets you in trouble. and luckily for him, he (somehow) gets you out of it too

word count. +- 2.9k

warnings. umm swearing, alcohol consumption, blades (dagger), blood, violence (people get slapped and kind of hurt but uh it’s not specified if they’re dead or not 😇), ment (?) of being hung ++ lots of cameos :D

stepping out of your cabin, the smell of sea filling your nostrils and warm sunshine hugging your skin; you stretched lazily, trying to shake off the rest of slumber in your body.

“oi, captain! you’re finally awake!”

you turned your head and sent yunjin a sleepy smile. her and chaewon giggled at you. nodding, you decided to take a stroll on your deck and observe your crew.

the girls who greeted you were fixing the ropes and gossiping. as usual, but at least they did their job well.

sakura, the oldest (after you) on the deck and your quartermaster, was sailing while you were asleep. you sent her a wave and she waved back. eunchae and kazuha were listening to taehyun as he walked them through the usage of canons. well, of course they will have to only clean them at first but later on they’ll be able to fix them if necessary. and shoot, like taehyun or yeonjun. they just needed the training.

beomgyu and soobin were out of sight, probably scanning the maps for the next journey. kai wasn’t near, so he probably sat with them and observed them curiously (like he always does).

the youngest members of your crew were cleaning. you all’ve been there so it was nothing strange. sure, they complained but due to their youthful nature and vigour they did the job fast. and fun.

riwoo, jaehyun and leehan were mopping the floor while splashing each other. sungho alongside taesan and woonhak were in charge of food today… which means it might be interesting. and hopefully not burnt, like the last time yeonjun and beomgyu cooked together.

walking up to the railing of the upper deck, where sakura was navigating, a smile spread on your lips.

“we’re close” you breathed out, heart swelling in your chest. your homeland…

you fixed your hat and leaned a bit, admiring the land from afar.

“do you think the boys will be happy?” you asked, turning around. sakura took a deep breath and shrugged.

“no idea… they wanted to leave but it’s been a long time, so maybe they won’t mind a quick visit” she hummed

“it’s been a long time for them, huh? then i wasn’t here in ages” you whined and sakura just let out a laugh.

“you’re ancient, captain”

you were born and raised in hybe, one of the biggest islands. growing up in a poor household, a neighbourhood filled with thieves and poverty made you adapt quickly to such environment. at the age of 6 you started pickpocketing. by the age of 10, you were a quite good – you’d say so yourself – thief. your parents didn’t really care, as long as you brought money or food home.

because of that you wanted some freedom, to start a new life. stories about pirates always fascinated you and you always sneaked into the docks whenever a bigger ship would arrive.

and one day you just snuck on a ship… and stayed there, thanks to the pirates’ kindness. this made you realise they aren’t always the bad guys.

during one of the visits back home, you met the young boys on a street. doing exactly what you did as a kid. you knew how can it affect them negatively so you decided to offer them a somehow better future. and of course they agreed, because y/n of hybe became a famous yet mysterious pirate known here and there. they heard about you; hell, who wouldn’t? besides, you remember when they were born – or more like dropped off by the orphanage next door.

so will they miss their hometown? they weren’t there as long as you… and you… you missed the town, not the people.

arriving at the land, you stepped almost hesitant.

“we’re leaving tomorrow, this time. go have some fun, rats” you grinned and ruffled woonhak’s hair.

you let out a deep sigh and started walking. no, you let your legs lead you.

you found yourself walking amongst the old, sketchy paths of your old town. memories flooding back, too deeply in the nostalgic feeling you failed to realise that another ship docked.

visiting a bar at the end of your small journey when the sun has set, you ordered a glass of rum and sat back at the dark corner of the room. thinking about your next trip, you watched the people there. most of them were just drunkards or hazard addicted people.

then you frowned upon noticing – or thinking you noticed – a familiar face. it was a quick movement so you weren’t sure. maybe it was someone else…? but still, you had to remain cautious. you need to return to the ship tomorrow anyways.

playing with the dagger that you stuck into the wooden table, you took a sip of the alcoholic beverage.

you’ve come to a conclusion this may be your homeland, but certainly not your home. your place is on the ship, with your crew–

“well shiver me timbers, who do we have here?”

you looked up lazily, knowing the voice too damn well.

“jihoon” you sighed, meeting the man’s gaze. he sat down in front of you, placing his own glass. also filled with rum. you pointed at it “amongst all those things we disagree on, at least our alcohol taste matches”

he tsked and took a look around.

“what are you doing here?” you hissed, leaning forward. jihoon observed the gold coin dangling on the necklace on your neck.

“what are YOU doing here?” he back fired, ebony irises almost black due to the faint light.

“it’s literally my island. you’re not from here, so stop acting like a local” you grunted and tightened your fingers on the wooden grip of your dagger.

“we agreed not to cross paths ever again” he said, voice low. you let out an amused huff, looking away. the door from the bar were constantly opening and closing.

“i remember. i said i’ll kill you when i see you next time” you said through clenched teeth. jihoon swiftly grabbed the dagger and started sticking it between his fingers, palm flat on the wooden table.

“i’d like to see you try. from what i know, you rather barely visit your home. so why you’re here?” he asked.

jihoon was your… enemy? any other pirate was your enemy, technically. but he… he was a real bastard. always stealing your treasure, almost as if he knew where exactly are you heading to next. and he’s cocky about it to – leaving notes and visible tracks. last time he went way too far.

he sunk your ship.

luckily, no one got harmed but the damage was done in your heart. the black cat, your beloved ship has kissed the sea’s bottom. since then you promised yourself to get revenge – and that’s why you may or may not insisted on visiting hybe.

because apart from you being the island’s hidden gem, there’s also illegal but very effective gun powder and explosives business. bang sihyuk, the driving force behind it owned you a favour so–

wait. if jihoon’s here, then he must have discovered it.

your eyes snapped back at him just when you felt the cold metal tip poking at your exposed throat. the dangerous glint in jihoon’s eye and handsome smirk made you even more angry. because he just played you and read like an open book.

“hah… oh, y/n. you’re real cute sometimes” he cooed, tilting his head. your dagger in his hand pointing at your throat. for seven seas, this is humiliating. you felt a trickle of blood run down your skin “i could easily kill you right now. quietly and quickly, but where’s fun in that–“

before you said anything, someone pulled jihoon back. and you as well. cold metal suddenly making contact with your wrists made you gasp.

“well, well, well… who do we have here… y/n l/n, lee jihoon. the two most wanted captains”

you turned around and if looks could kill– well, jihoon would already be dead months ago. and this man too.

“i’m the chief of city guards, kim namjoon. and you two are under arrest. with no way out.” the man crossed his arms and grabbed your chin, tilting it up.

namjoon. you remember him. he was…

“by tomorrow you will hang, together. and i’ll get a promotion. oh woah, who knew this day will end so well…” he smiled.

“namjoon?” you breathed out. your partner in crime, quite literally. he helped you steal when you were younger.

“officer namjoon to you. i’ve cut ties with you, y/n the moment you ran away. and now, look at me and look at you. you’re a shame to the society” namjoon huffed and let go of you harshly, causing you to stumble and fall onto jihoon. then he spat, right in front of your shoes “fucking pirates… take them to the arrest”

“this is all your fault, moron!” you grunted, kicking the metal bar of your arrest.

of course they had to put you in one cell with jihoon.

“mine? wha– this is ridiculous!” he scoffed, hands crossed on his broad chest.

“if you minded your business, you wouldn’t draw attention to me or you” you pointed at him and were met with silence. he knew you’re right “great. we were supposed to leave tomorrow? or today? there’s no bloody light in here”

“my crew will save me” he snickered.

“as if mine won’t. i bet they’ll be here soon” you mumbled and sat down on the cold floor because he was sitting at the bench. or something that was supposed to be it. he tsked and stood up.

“you should go to sleep” he murmured quietly, awkwardly standing next to the bench.

“no”

the man let out a deep sigh, eyes tracing the walls. the only source of light was a small lamp lit on the corridor wall.

“go to sleep” jihoon said, voice more stern this time.

“why? so you could arrange me in my sleep? no thank you” you huffed, pulling your knees closer to your chest and resting your chin on them.

“no. so you could finally shut up” he mumbled. obviously. it’s not like he cared. certainly not because the floor was cold and you would be cramped if you fell asleep on it.

you let out a small sigh, eyes observing the moths that gathered next to the lamp.

“i can’t believe i’ll hang in my hometown with my enemy” you muttered, closing your eyes.

when you woke up, you were laying on the bench. immediately sitting up straight, you startled jihoon out of his slumber. on the floor.

“why did you do move me? i’d cut–“ you started

“my hands off. yeah, yeah. that’s why i did it while you were sleeping” he yawned, arms shooting up to stretch lazily “i figured you’d want to get some sleep for the last time in your life”

you were about to say something when you heard footsteps. in no time five guards arrived.

without saying anything, they grabbed you out of the cell and handcuffed you both. sending jihoon a confused stare, he shook his head.

your legs weren’t really cooperating, so the guards dragged you along. after a long, monotonous journey in the dungeons you finally stepped outside.

the sudden sun blinded you both, especially after so much time spent in the darkness. then you realised you’re being walked down to the platform with hangman’s noose already prepared for the both of you. one walk downstairs and you’ll die because of a public hanging… and bloody hell, that’s a lot of people–

you halted your movements, digging your heels into the floor and pushing back.

“i refuse to believe this” you let out an airy laugh and caught jihoon’s shocked expression.

the guard suddenly slapped you; the impact so powerful that you fell on the floor. you felt your eyes water and cheek sting.

“yah! what do you think you’re doing?! you’re a guard and you hit a woman?! pathetic scum” jihoon hissed and nudged the guards that held him.

he kneeled down, pressing his head against yours. before they lifted him back up, you felt his breath fan over your skin

“i have an idea, just trust me” he whispered “are you alright?”

you nodded and jihoon got dragged away. then you heard another slap.

“she’s a pirate, i don’t see a reason why i shouldn’t hit her–“ the guard started.

you got lifted by two men and watched jihoon spit on the man in front of him. a smirk of satisfaction painted on his lips as the guard’s eye twitched.

“next time try punching someone your size, eh?” he cooed and the guard slapped his other cheek. his face turned to you, eyes squeezed shut.

“jihoon!” you yelped, jumping to him. before the guards could yank you back, jihoon turned around and spat at the man in front of him again. then he kicked the man with full force, so he fell down the stairs. using the distraction, he swiftly (almost as if he had experience) put his handcuffed hands in front of him by bending his knees and quickly moving them to the front. you did the same, definitely less gracefully and almost losing your balance.

then you felt his hand awkwardly grab yours and–

“go!”

you ran down the stairs with him, jumping over the man at the bottom. the rest of the guards followed you, shouting and screaming.

jihoon ran through the crowd, pushing with no hesitation whatsoever. his grip on your hand remained steady, scared to lose you.

“which way? you know the city better!” he asked, turning his head back.

“this way!” you ordered, leading him to the right.

even if the guards will follow you to the poorest place on whole town, there’s a plenty of good hiding spots. running through the houses and dirty streets, people watching you and pointing fingers.

you arrived at the local market. it wasn’t too sanitary but that wasn’t the most important thing right now.

you ran up to the butcher whom you knew, distress all over your face.

“yah, hoseok! would you mind?” you asked, putting your hands on the table. he gave you a weird look but without hesitation – and with terrifying force and speed – cut your handcuffs with his chopper, covered in blood.

“your lover boy too?” he asked unbothered, almost as if he was trying to sell one more pound of meat instead of helping the prisoners escape. you nodded. once your hands were separated there was a sudden noise

“they went that way!”

jihoon turned around and saw the guards in armours that shone in the daylight. you were about to bend and dive under the stall when he dragged you away, next to the stall with flowers.

“i deeply apologise” he breathed out, the guards’ shouts becoming louder. they’re approaching rather rapidly and…

“about my ship?” you furrowed your brows. the men will walk directly next to you and he’s…

“no” he scoffed and before you could realise, he spun you around and leaned against the wooden bar supporting the stall “about this”

the men ran next to you as you felt jihoon’s lips crash on yours. one hand cupped your cheek, the other was resting next to your head. the kiss was chaotic yet somehow soft, his lips rough and teasing like sea salt.

you kissed him back, realising what was his plan. you pulled him closer, trying to hide your faces as much as possible.

the kiss turned more passionate, your fingers tightening on his linen shirt. the steps and shouts started fading away.

jihoon stopped and leaned back but not too far. head buried in the side of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin. your stomach was making flips, almost like you were sea sick.

“they’re gone… i think” you breathed out, scanning the market.

the sellers chatted between themselves, fixing the products that have fallen due to the rapid movements of a bunch of men in armour.

“what… uhm, what was that?” you whispered. he rose his head up, boyish smirk blooming on his lips.

“dunno” he shrugged “i just wanted to kiss you”

“oh fuck off” you grunted, trying to walk away. but jihoon had you caged between his arms and the wooden bar. you stared at him – partly in disbelief, partly in amusement… and slightly in participation.

“are you alright though? that bastard slapped you pretty hard” jihoon asked, worry in his eyes. your fingers lingered on the cheek you were hit on and then you shook your head.

“it’s fine. it’s been worse, like having a dagger pointed at my neck” you snickered and hesitantly brought your hands to his red cheeks “what about you?”

“been worse” he repeated after you “although…”

you suddenly pecked his cheek, then the other one. using his taken aback state, you escaped his hold by walking under his arm.

“hope it will soothe the pain. thank you for helping me escape” you hummed “even though i take back what i said about killing you next time i see you… be on guard, jihoon. your ship will sink”

“yeah. we could kiss next time” he smiled nonchalantly and watched you walk away.

some part of him wanted to stop you but he knew you’ll cross paths anyway. and then he’ll make you stay, maybe for a little longer. and maybe his heart will stop fluttering like sails on a strong gust of wind.

wait.

his ship will sink?

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @nfrgirl ,, @crxzs

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karahalloway · 2 months

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 17 - News Flash

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper and the Beaumonts get on a plane to Italy… but they are not riding solo

Word Count: 4,500

Rating/Warnings: M (using the Lord's name in vain, shocking revelations, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: And… we’re back! I know this is a bit delayed, thanks to my new Heaven’s Secret distraction, but I am hoping to refocus myself on this continuously neglected series again for the next few weeks/months so we can make some headway towards wrapping it up. Also, I know we all miss him, and he hasn’t had as much page time as we all (Harper included!) probably want, but I promise that after this chapter there will be a lot more Drake again 🥃

A/N2: Astute readers will probably notice that there is nary a train in sight (in this chapter, or any future ones). This is deliberate because (i) I never understood why PB went in that direction in canon (is a travelling boutique really that important?!), and (ii) trains don’t make sense from a security point of view anyway (apparently the UK’s Royalty and Specialist Protection — which provides close protection to the royal family — used to hate it when Elizabeth II travelled by train, because it was always a massive headache to ensure her safety as trains travel on a fixed route and schedule, with no opportunities for diversion or evasion of things go to pot). So… planes it is ✈️

A/N3: Finally, another special shoutout to @thegreentwin for giving me the inspiration to have a crack at creating the tabloid cover page featured in this chapter. If you have not read The Rebel Prince, please do so! It is cute, funny, insightful and the gossip magazine covers that accompany several of the chapters are something else!

Chapter 17 - News Flash

"I thought we're going to Italy..." I remark the next morning as we pull to a stop on the tarmac of a secluded private airfield.

"We are," confirms Bertrand, jamming a fedora onto his head to protect against the ferocity of the morning sun... and hide the brutal sunburn he managed to acquire as a result of spending the entirety of yesterday's Festival outdoors without any SPF protection.

"Then what's with the literal mountain of luggage?" I ask as we step out of our customary limo.

Bertrand fixes me with a red-faced glare over the roof of the vehicle. "Have you learnt nothing from the social season?"

I throw him a deadpan look. "You mean apart from the fact that you insist on packing everything, including the kitchen sink?"

Maxwell's snort drifts up from the backseat.

The elder Beaumont is not impressed with my clapback. "The engagement tour will be one high-profile event after the other, which means that we will have neither the time nor the opportunity to engage in slap-dash shopping sprees. Not only would such proletarian behaviour be rude, but it would be misguided as well, given that we need to ensure that for each event we abide not just by the formal dress code indicated on the invitation, but also that we do not clash with, or indeed overshadow the hosts — or the King and future Queen, for that matter! — in terms of style and colour, all while being thoughtful in ensuring that we incorporate elements from both local and Cordonian designers to visually showcase the strength of the bonds that knit our respective nations together. On top of all that, it is imperative that we—"

"How the heck is anyone expected to pull all that off?" I blurt in disbelief.

"Through careful planning and coordination," Bertrand declares as he comes to join Maxwell and me on the other side of the limo. "Which is why I have taken the liberty of pre-selecting each outfit for each event of the tour, in consultation with the Palace's Master of the Robes."

My mouth drops. "You... Put a wardrobe together? For me?"

"Yes," comes the diffident affirmation. "Given that all eyes — not just those of our fellow Cordonians, but of our host nations' — will be on us constantly, we cannot afford any fashion faux pas."

I stare at my former sponsor mutely, mouth opening and closing like a dumbfounded goldfish.

Maxwell attempts to diffuse my slap-faced reaction with a jovial grin. "Bertrand used to lay my clothes out for me all the time when we were younger. I know he doesn't look it, but he has excellent—"

I shove an accusatory finger out. "He tried to foist me into a Medieval cosplay dress! That is the exact opposite of excellent taste!"

The elder Beaumont bristles. "It was hardly—"

"And how the hell did you afford all of this anyway?" I interject, throwing my arm out towards the carefully stacked Eiffel Tower of suitcases. "Because last time I checked, you were flat broke!"

Bertrand's already ruddy complexion darkens further. "There is no need for you to concern yourself with—"

"How?!"

After the way Maxwell had tried to sell covert photos and Christian and me from New York to the press in a bid to make bank, I am not willing to take any kind of half-baked deflection when it comes to the Beaumonts and money. I've been used one too many times for someone else's gain, so my trust is virtually non-existent at this point.

Bertrand swallows thickly as he averts his eyes. "I... I may have made recourse to an old sewing machine I found in the attic..."

My eyes just about pop out of my head. "You what?!"

I'd expected any one of six million other explanations — he'd sold the vineyard... remortgaged Ramsford... auctioned off every last chair and curtain from the manor... Even offered his soul to the literal Devil...

But using a sewing machine...? To make actual clothes...?

I had obviously caught the sun yesterday as well, and am now suffering from heat stroke...

"Bertrand has always been interested in fashion," explains Maxwell with a perfectly straight face. "He even wanted to enroll at the world-renowned Istituto Marangoni International in Milan to study Fashion Design. But then our father took unexpectedly ill, and—"

"Yes, yes..." interjects Bertrand with an embarrassed wave of his hand. "No need to revisit broken dreams and unfulfilled promises. The point is that I made the best use of what meagre funds and resources we had at our disposal to curate a serviceable selection of outfits for each of us. With a little help from Maxwell, of course."

"I was the mannequin," he declares proudly. "I admit, I got poked a few times in the line of duty, but it was worth it. Bertrand did a stellar job – you're going to love what he made for you."

"I... I don't know what to say..." I admit faintly.

And here I'd been thinking that Bertrand's closet Harry Potter obsession had been a big reveal...

"Yes... Well..." Bertrand clears his throat uncomfortably. "We each have our unique talents. Speaking of... I trust you have been practicing your Italian?"

I frown. "My what?"

"You were supposed to give her lessons!" cries Bertrand, smacking his brother over the back of the head.

Maxwell's retro '60s sunglasses fly off his face. "My Prada’s...!"

"What about French?" Bertrand demands, rounding on me with all the intensity of a furious tomato on the verge of exploding.

"Allard and Schweitzer have been teaching—"

"Some initiative at last!" exclaims Bertrand, throwing his hands up in the air in deliverance. "Good — you'll have some semblance of a basis, then. However, while both languages share a common root — that being Latin — and a border, as a result of roughly fifteen centuries of historical and linguistic divergence, Italian has become markedly different from its Gallic cousin, so we will have our work cut out in making you even semi-proficient by the time we land in Rome. So, I hope you brought pen and paper with you."

My shoulders slump as I watch Bertrand stride off towards the waiting plane. "Great..."

There goes the next hour and a half of my life...

"I knew I had forgotten something..." admits Maxwell, rubbing the back of his head as he retrieves his sunglasses from the tarmac. "But I thought it was just my second favourite pair of boxers."

"It's fine..." I assure wearily him as I begin my own trudge towards the jet. "It wouldn't be a true Beaumont travel experience without a droning Bertrand lecture..."

Though I guess it could be worse. I could be stuck on the royal jet with Christian and Madeleine. Which — after what happened yesterday — would be like staging an aristocratic rendition of Squid Game... 20,000 feet in the air. So, on that basis, I'll willingly subject myself to Bertrand's monologuing any day of the week, if it means I can—

"And there she is..." remarks a familiar, though very much unexpected voice as I step onto the plane. "The woman of the hour."

Jerking my head to the right, my eyes land on Olivia, lounging on one of the cream-coloured leather seats, her killer spike stiletto boots dangling over the armrest as she casually peruses a broadsheet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in disbelief.

Olivia lowers the paper to meet my eye with a quirked brow. "You mean, on my own aircraft?"

I cast a glance in Bertrand's direction as I make my way down the gangway. "Guess your meagre funds and resources didn't extend to sourcing jet fuel?"

Bertrand coughs evasively as he stores his briefcase in the overhead locker. "Since we are all heading in the same direction anyway, Lady Oliva was kind enough to—"

"Shut it, Beaumont," Olivia snaps. "I am doing this as a personal favour, not an act of charity. As Lord knows that I wouldn't normally tolerate sharing recycled air with this many people in a confined space. So, if you want to stay on this plane, you will save the histrionics for the Italian President."

Bertrand promptly clamps his mouth shut to sink into his seat without another word.

"Wow..." I say, settling in across from Olivia. "He must've been really desperate to come to you for help... No offence."

"None taken," she replies with a breezy shrug as she flips the broadsheet closed and nods to the cabin attendant. "Because the request didn't come from the Beaumonts."

My head snaps up in surprise. "Then who?"

She regards me for a long moment, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she lets out a resigned exhale. "Drake."

My jaw hits the floor. "What!"

Olivia scrunches her mouth up ruefully. "He twisted my arm into agreeing to look out for you while he's off playing desert soldier."

I stare at her. "How in the world did he—?"

Maxwell thrusts his head 'round the back of Olivia's seat. "Drake's playing video games! Instead of coming to Italy?”

The Duchess of Lythikos shoves the intruding face away with the palm of her hand. "No, you imbecile! Drake's gone to Dubai." Glancing at me she adds, "I presume they know?"

"They do now," I concede with a sigh.

Thanks to the slew of quick-fire developments at yesterday's Festival, followed by the rabid packing to get ourselves ready for the international leg of the tour, I haven't had a chance to bring the Beaumonts up to speed with everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours.

But they're bound to find out about Drake's last-minute side-trip at some point, so this is as good a time as any to level with them.

Maxwell’s mouth drops with an aghast look. "But I didn't hit him that hard!"

Olivia quirks a brow at me.

"Long story, don't ask," I tell her wearily. Glancing up at Maxwell, I add, "He's gone after Tariq. Bastien found him hiding out on some rich cousin's yacht out in the bay."

"Oh." Maxwell scratches his head abashedly. "That makes more sense..."

"How do you put up with these two?" asks Olivia with a shake of her head as Maxwell sinks back into his seat.

I give her a shrug. "They have a weird way of growing on you..."

"Like some deadly fungus..." she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

"I heard that!" objects Maxwell from behind her.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't eavesdrop, then!" she throws over her shoulder snidely. Turning back to me, she adds, "And speaking of funguses, you can remind your boyfriend when he gets back that you both owe me. Big time."

My gaze darts to hers. "I— We're not—"

"Thank you for confirming it," she interjects with a sly smile. "But also, I'm not an idiot. It's obvious to anyone with a set of eyes that the fool is in love with you... and you with him. It's all quite disgusting, really..."

I feel my cheeks redden. "So, why help us, then?"

She heaves a low breath. "Because you stuck your neck out for me when you didn't have to. Despite everything I did to try and undermine you during the season. And because we have a common enemy."

She tosses the broadsheet that she'd been reading over to me.

Catching the copy of the Cordonia Sun before it has a chance to slide off the table between us, I glance down...

...and my heart sinks as I take in the unflattering picture of myself seemingly facing off against Madeleine under the sensationalist headline.

I shove the paper angrily away. "Hey. I didn't start it..."

"And yet you somehow always manage to find yourself in the middle of it, don't you?" she counters with an arched brow as the jet revs its engines for take-off. "The half-nude pictures... The Beaumonts' financial troubles... The speculations about the real reason Christian gave you a duchy... I mean, even the Duchess of Sussex would have a hard time competing with you when it comes to front-page scandals."

"And you think Madeleine is behind it all?" I ask tightly, indicating the tabloid.

"She would certainly have a lot to gain from waging a targeted media campaign against you," Olivia affirms. "She isn't married to Christian yet, and after what happened with Leo, she no doubt feels threatened by your continued presence at court. So, discrediting your integrity in the eyes of the Council would help her ensure that Christian can never formally pick you over her to become Queen."

"Because she doesn't know I turned him down..." I grumble dejectedly as the plane pulls into the air.

"And certainly would not believe you if you told her, either," she adds. "But she is not the only one with something to lose."

I sit up straighter. "You mean there are other suspects?"

"Yes," she nods. "Namely Godfrey and the Queen Mother."

Bertrand erupts from his seat at the mention of the two names. "That is an outrageous accusation! The Queen Mother would never—!"

"Madeleine is her niece," counters Olivia flatly. "Given that she has no children of her own, she practically treats that golden-haired harpy as if she is her heir. And since she was the one who brokered the original marriage contract between Leo and Madeleine, she clearly doesn't want all that work going to waste."

I frown. "But if everything was in place already, why have a social season at all? Why not just sub out Leo's name for Christian's in the contract?"

"To give Christian the illusion of choice."

My jaw drops. "You're not serious..."

"It would have been in poor taste to simply swap one prince out for another," Olivia advises. "Leo hadn't died... merely abdicated. But that decision nevertheless rocked the kingdom to its core."

"It's true," supplies Maxwell, leaning around with a mouth full of jelly worms. "The headlines were vicious."

"So..." I muse with a frown. "The Palace needed a distraction?"

"Yes," Oliva affirms seriously. "To draw attention away from Constantine's failing health."

"Wait," I cut in. "Constantine is dying?"

Olivia nods. "Prostate cancer. By all estimates, he has less than a year to live."

"Oh, my God..." I gasp, hand flying to my mouth. "No wonder Christian didn't want to talk about it..."

"The Palace is under strict instructions to keep the whole thing tightly under wraps..." she explains. "At least until after the coronation and wedding are both out of the way. They don't want the news to overshadow the first few critical months of Christian's rule."

"So, how did you find out?" I query.

She cuts her eyes over at me. "Like I said at the Masquerade Ball... Christian and I share a special connection. There are no secrets between us. Also – look at who you're talking to. I have files on each of the suitors from the social season. You seriously think I wouldn't know about something as vital to the functioning of the kingdom as the state of the King Father's health?"

"I guess not..." I concede, still trying to process this bombshell. "But how does giving Christian an illusion of a choice during the social season help cover up Constantine's cancer?"

"In the wake of Leo's abdication, support for the Rys family fell to an all-time low. The press started to question Constantine's policies, and the direction that the kingdom has been heading over the past few decades, implying that the country's current trajectory was unsustainable... and uncorrectable."

"I remember reading something about that on the flight from New York..." I recall. "There were suggestions that Leo abdicated because he didn't believe in the future of the monarchy."

"Which wasn't the case at all," she cautions. "But the Palace was worried that such intense media scrutiny would unearth evidence of Constantine's ill health... which would in turn intensify the calls from the republican factions of the country to abolish the system of hereditary rule completely. So, in a desperate bid to reunite the people behind a common cause, and shore up support for the monarchy, the Palace decided run the season again."

"But why?" I ask, still not seeing the connection.

"To charm the country with the fairytale of a royal romance," denotes Olivia sourly. "Because people apparently go ga-ga for that shite..."

Bertrand narrowly avoids choking in his seat across the aisle. "That is a crude and absolutely salacious interpretation of—!"

I whirl across the aisle. "Wait. You knew about this?"

Bertrand folds his arms across his chest. "I am a serving member of the Council. Of course I knew about the Palace's decision to run the social season again. But to suggest that it was all done simply for the sake of—"

"God, you're thick..." interjects Olivia.

Bertrand blanches. "I beg your pardon?!"

"You've been at court long enough to know that the truth is never the whole truth — there is always some hidden purpose or ulterior motive."

"But to suggest that—"

"The Palace needed a believable story — one that could capture the public's imagination — while still serving the needs of the kingdom," Olivia states. "A story of duty and love."

"Between Christian and Madeleine?" I ask sceptically. "But they don't even like each other."

"So?" scoffs Olivia. "The aim was to sell the lie to the populace. Everything else is inconsequential. And can be made to fit the narrative."

"But if you knew all this," I counter, "why did you join the competition?"

"I joined exactly because I knew the season was a sham," she replies heatedly. "To give Christian a genuine choice... not just the one that everyone else was determined to steer him towards."

"Because you love him..."

Olivia nods tightly. "Yes. And I knew it was a long shot. But even if he wouldn't end up being able to choose me — Regina would've made sure to stack the Council votes in her favour — at least I could be there to support him... as a friend."

I feel my heart go out to her, knowing from personal experience how difficult it is to be in a situation where you desperately want to be with someone, but can't because of circumstances that are outside of your control.

"But then, of course..." adds Olivia, once again with her customary breeziness, "you show up from out of nowhere with your hideous accent and relatable backstory—"

"Hey!"

"—and the whole country — Christian included — loses their collective minds. With the result that Regina's plan to make her niece Queen begins to unravel at the seams."

"Which is why she decided to set me up..." I surmise heavily as the jet levels off.

It's been fairly obvious from the start that I'm not Regina's favourite person... But the knowledge that she'd go to such lengths to publicly blacklist me? That's just inexcusable.

"You have no proof of that!" objects Bertrand, butting in again.

"Not directly, no," Olivia admits. "But all the evidence we have to date fits. The money Tariq received for his involvement came from a numbered account located in Switzerland. The blackmail letters distributed at the Coronation Ball were printed on Palace stationery. And as far as motives go, the Queen Mother would have more reason than most to influence the outcome of the social season."

"I cannot believe I am hearing this...!" decries Bertrand with a shake of his head. "The implications alone would be—"

"Ruinous to the Rys family," confirms Olivia. "I am aware. Which is why we must tread carefully in order to avoid tarring Christian with any of this. The monarchy would not survive the ensuing scandal."

"What about this other guy?" I ask. "Godfrey? How does he fit into this?"

Olivia throws her hands up. "Lord, you're more clueless than him!"

"Excuse me for not knowing every single Cordonian nobleman by name," I snark back. "I've only been a duchess for a day..."

"I'll send you my files," Olivia huffs wearily. "All two hundred of them."

My eyes widen. "There's two hundred—?"

"There's more, but those are the important ones," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And if you want to be an effective duchess, I suggest you study up because you need to have the entire contents of those dossiers memorised and ready to deploy in any given conversation."

"Sweet Jesus..." I gasp faintly, making recourse to Drake's favourite invective, as it certainly fit the magnitude of the task Olivia has just dumped on me.

"You didn't grow up in this world, so you have a lot of catching up to do," Olivia shrugs unabashedly.

"Yeah, I'm very much aware of that..." I concede dryly, rubbing my temples. "So, who is this Godfrey?"

"The Third Earl of Huntford, and Duke jure uxoris of Krona."

My brows furrow in recollection. "Krona... Does that mean he's—?"

"He's Madeleine's dad," supplies Maxwell, popping his head into the aisle again, this time in the company of a CapriSun juice pouch.

My eyes widen. "The man at the garden party! But what does he have against me? I've never even met him!"

"The fact that you are still here..." offers Olivia blandly. "Competing against his daughter for the attentions of the King."

"It's not exactly a competition," I scoff. "I'm not trying to steal him away from her."

"Except that isn't how the press is portraying it," counters Olivia pointedly, tapping the front page of the Sun.

I open my mouth again, but quickly shut it, realising that Olivia is right. As regardless of my personal reasons for being back at court — as the Royal Consort, no less! — the view from the outside presents very differently. And given that Madeleine herself clearly feels threatened by my continued presence at Christian's side, it's no small jump to imagine that her father — who, based on what I saw at the garden party a few days ago, is just as power-hungry and image-conscious as his daughter — would also feel the same.

"Crap..." I huff, falling back into my seat dejectedly.

"Not the most elegant of phrasing," muses Olivia. "But certainly succinct."

"What am I going to do?" I ask morosely, starting up at the cabin's air vents.

"Help me gather as much proof as we can during the course of the tour," Olivia instructs. "So we can narrow down our suspect list... or indict all three of them. In either case, we will be more effective if we work together."

"That plan is akin to sedition!" cries Bertrand, clearly aghast by the very suggestion. "Bordering on treason! All of us are in enough hot water already without—"

"Which is why it is imperative that no word of anything that we have just discussed leaves this aircraft," declares Olivia with a steely look. "Or I will personally hunt you down and turn your face inside out."

I gulp at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "What... What about the staff? Can you trust them?"

"They are all Lythikosians," Olivia states. "Who have sworn blood-oaths to House Nevrakis. They would never dare betray me."

"Good to know..." I admit, watching the cabin attendant re-appeared with a selection of drinks, and wondering if underneath her uniform she is as armed to the teeth as Olivia supposedly is.

"I presume the same goes for your beefcakes?" asks Olivia, nodding her chin towards the back where Allard and Schweitzer have taken up residence for the duration of the flight.

"Yes," I confirm. "I trust them with my life."

She dips her head in approval. "Good. So, as first order of business, I suggest—"

"Can we tell Hana?" interjects Maxwell, bobbing up from behind Olivia again. "She's helping us, too!"

Olivia heaves a breath. "Yes, fine. But—"

I hold up a hand. "And Drake will probably want t—"

"Yes, fine!" she snaps irately. "Anyone else? Your maternal grandmother, perhaps?"

I bite my bottom lip as I peek up at her. "Do we tell Christian?"

Olivia holds my gaze for a long moment. "No. Not until we have concrete proof. One way or another. He has enough crises to manage right now without lumbering him with a major constitutional one as well."

I nod in understanding. The mere suggestion that his godmother and future father-in-law have been conspiring to put Madeleine on the throne (potentially with his fiancée's own buy-in!) would be soul-destroying. Which is why we need to find that smoking gun — ideally several — before we present our accusations.

"Not sure if it will be of any help at all," I say, "but Ana de Luca managed dig up some information on the freelance photographer Tariq was working with on the day of the Jamboree."

"Did you bribe her with another exclusive?" chaffs Olivia dryly.

"We'll need someone to help us set the record straight," I affirm. My shoulders slump suddenly. "But I gave the flash-drive to Drake."

"Which he gave to me," smirks Olivia, pulling the device from the pocket of her jacket.

I gape at the piece of plastic in her hand. "Drake really trusts you, huh?"

"More than most," she shrugs coyly, flipping the drive over to me.

I catch it with both hands. "We should review whatever is on here. Who knows? Maybe the photographer is part of the press corps covering the tour."

"I have my laptop with me," Maxwell offers. "I was going to use it to mix some tunes, but—"

"You'll only get one chance to unravel a high-stakes aristo racket!" I quip, dangling the drive between my fingers.

"God, your incessant American optimism is stomach-turning..." Olivia groans. "And you've clearly spent too much time with Walker."

"Hey," I hit back. "This is the best lead we've gotten yet. We shouldn't discount it. This photographer could be key to linking Regina and/or Godfrey to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season."

"Assuming you can find them..." counters Olivia. "And get them to talk."

I meet her eye with a level look. "Good thing that's your area of expertise, isn't it, Duchess?"

The corner of her mouth lifts craftily.

"But what about Harper's Italian!" disparages Bertrand. "We'll be landing in less than an hour, and she still doesn't know the proper way to greet the President in his native tongue without insulting him!"

I swallow a groan. "Do I really need t—?"

"Being able to carry a conversation with the Head of State in Italian will go a long way in demonstrating to both the public and the press that you are serious about your new role as Duchess of Valtoria," he advises frankly. "And will score you some much-needed diplomatic points with our hosts as well."

"Guess we have our work cut out for us, then," I accede with a sigh. "Any chance for some coffee?"

"Turkish, Irish, or Sicilian?" asks Olivia.

"Which is closest to a latte?"

"Probably the Sicilian," she advises. "If you make it into a granita di caffe."

"I'm feeling Italian already!" I gibe in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

Bertrand groans loudly from his seat. "Oh, Dio..."

The story continues in Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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