#i know that 2022 is like. over halfway over by now

[saayatsumu]

there’s more: this time with even more cater lilia and idia

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

NaNoWriMo Day 14 — First and Final Entry

Word goal for today: 23,333

Words written: 1,583

Current total: 23,518

Progress: 47.0% ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

[adascore]

Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!

To Jump The Gun(ners)

pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader

warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.

author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!

masterlist

February 4, 2024 - Essex, England

It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.

The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.

She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.

Their injuries had changed everything.

Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.

She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.

However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.

It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.

In other words, she was back to step 1.

That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.

In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.

Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.

The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.

Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.

As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.

The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.

''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''

''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.

''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''

Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.

''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.

As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.

''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.

Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.

They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.

The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.

Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.

''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.

Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''

The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.

As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.

"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.

Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.

"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.

As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.

The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.

''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.

Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.

She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.

''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.

They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.

''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.

''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.

"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.

They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.

''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.

Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''

The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''

Katie was not right.

As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.

The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.

Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.

A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.

Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?

She had absolutely no clue.

However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.

Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?

Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.

Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.

The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.

The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.

Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.

"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”

Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''

But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.

Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.

The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.

''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

''Hey, you're home?''

''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''

There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''

''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''

There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''

Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.

''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.

''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.

''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”

''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''

''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.

''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.

''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''

Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.

The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.

Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''

Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.

The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.

A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.

''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.

She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.

She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.

Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.

As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.

''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.

Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.

''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.

Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.

But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.

''Beth, I wasn't-''

''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.

Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.

''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.

''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.

Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''

The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.

The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''

Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.

''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.

''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.

The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.

''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.

''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.

The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.

''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.

''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.

The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''

''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.

''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.

The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.

Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.

Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''

''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.

''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.

Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.

''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.

''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.

''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''

She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.

The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.

''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.

requests are always welcome!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

With Love From

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x wife reader that she spoiled and pampering him to much but she don’t cared and she love giving him love, attention, affection, and etc all things him always dreamed?. something cute and fluffy because him deserve all the love from the world. 

Summary: You take Dean on a much-needed vacation and give him everything he wants and deserves.

Square Filled: driving in the impala (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Got your pajamas?”

“Yes.”

“Toothbrush and toothpaste?”

“Yes.”

“What about your chargers? I put an extra one in your bag just in case.”

“What are you, my mom?” Dean jokes. “Yes, I have everything.”

“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you’ve forgotten something and ask to use my toothbrush. I won’t do it again.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many. We’ve done a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but sharing a toothbrush is gonna be a no for me.”

“Yes, I have everything. Why are you bugging out? You’re never like this whenever we go on a hunt.”

Dean takes both yours and his bags to the library where Sam is. He has his laptop and plenty of books all around him. There is a case not far from here that he is reading up on since he is going to be the one to tackle this case.

“We’re not going on a hunt,” you reveal when he sets the bags on the table.

“What?”

“We’re not going on a hunt.”

“Sam’s been working like crazy about this case a few towns over.”

“Yeah because he’s going to be the one to take care of it. We’re not.”

“Sam, what is she talking about?” Dean asks.

“Dude, I am just as clueless as you,” he chuckles and closes his laptop. “All I know is that I’m doing this one solo.”

“If we’re not going on a hunt, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Dean practically whines.

“Well, you’re getting one today. No hunt. No monsters. Definitely alcohol. Does that sound like a great time?” you smile.

“Sounds like a Saturday to me.”

“Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” You see the look on Dean’s face and immediately shuts down what he is going to say next. “If Sam needs help, he can call Garth.”

“Yeah, go have fun. I got this,” Sam backs you up.

You and Dean pack up the Impala and say your goodbyes to Sam who barely waves you two off. Dean is always the driver unless otherwise preoccupied, so he gets behind the wheel even though he has no idea where he’s going. You’re going to be the navigator for this special trip, only telling him what turns to make right before he needs to do them.

“Shall I put on the special playlist?”

“Special playlist? What’s the occasion?”

“I love you. Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” he smiles.

His special playlist consists of songs he could listen to on repeat for hours. Sam doesn’t let him put the playlist on since Sam complains he needs to listen to more than just classic rock. He claims they all sound the same even though each has their own unique sound.

About halfway through the trip, you stopped to get food at Dean’s favorite diner. He often comes here while on hunts even if it’s hours out of the way. There’s something about the way they make their burgers that has his mouth watering every single time.

“Okay, tell me where we’re going,” Dean chuckles with his mouth full.

“I told you it’s a surprise,” you smile. “You’re going to love it.”

Dean has no choice but to trust you. Once you two get done eating, you get back on the road and tough out the last half of the trip. You took over driving for the last hour just so he wouldn’t be suspicious of where you two were going but as soon as Dean sees the town’s name, he gets so excited.

“Wait, we’re in Mt. Sterling?”

“Yeah.”

You drive to one of the best gun stores in America. They have such a high rating since people from all over the country come here just to buy guns. Dean has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you figure it’s time to bring him. Dean is practically bouncing in his seat when you park, and he jumps out of the car in excitement.

You watch him run into the store with a smile on your face, and you make sure the car is locked before following him inside. He is like a child loose in a candy store or a toy store. He is admiring all of the guns on display, holding them just to feel how they would fit in his hands.

“Pick any you want. I’ll get it for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you so much,” he grins and kisses you.

Seeing him so happy brings you so much joy. He doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to be this happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be this happy most of the time, so taking time to give him this is very important. He channels his inner child and goes wild. He settled on another handgun that closely resembles the one he has now, but it has a silencer on the end of it which will make for easy hunting.

After he got all that excitement out, you two headed to the bar across the street to have a few rounds on you.

“How the hell did I ever get so lucky?” he smiles.

“I’m the lucky one, my love. You deserve all the love in the world.”

Dean leans in and kisses you, happy to be yours.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[vettelsvee]

MEETING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: diana, after being accepted as a candidate for the toro rosso internship program, begins her not-so-wonderful journey in the world of formula 1 and meets her future husband, sebastian vettel, as well as her biggest nightmare, nico rosberg

word count: 5568

warnings: mentions of suicide, sexism.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

"Diana, are you ready?"

The woman's attention was immediately captured when Mark Webber, who had offered, along with Jenson Button, directing the documentary, spoke to her. Quickly, she put her mobile phone in her blazer pocket and nodded at the former driver, indicating that she was ready to start filming.

"Alright," Mark announced. "Remember, Diana, just as we rehearsed with your husband during the script reading: you introduce yourself, talk a bit about what you're currently doing, and then we start talking about your childhood, just from when you were born until you were accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program," the Australian said.

The readhead swallowed, sat better and looked directly into the camera, that was already recording without the woman being conscious.

Immediately, as if she knew what was happening, she began to speak to it:

"My name's Diana Vettel, I'm 34 years old and, as you might already now, I'm wife to four-time Formula 1 World Champion, Sebastian Vettel. However," she clarified, "I prefer to be known as his race engineer for ten years, from 2012 to 2022 and, currently, I'm the co-director, alongside Susie Wolff, of the F1 Academy," she smiled proudly.

Sebastian entered the studio where the shootings were taking place, and when he saw his wife so self-assured, he couldn't feel anything but proud of her. There was no doubt that those sleepless nights, consoling her tears for not feeling enough in a male-dominated world, and the years of visits to her psychologist, which she still attended, had had an incredible effect on her.

"Well, wait!" Diana suddenly exclaimed. "We can't forget that I'm the reason behind Seb's first victory in Formula 1. Monza 2008, to be more precise," she confirmed, causing laughter from the ones around her.

"We already know quite a lot about Vettel's childhood, but now: what can you tell us a little bit about yours?" Button inquired, sitting next to Mark behind the cameramen.

Diana tensed up. It wasn't that she was afraid to recall her childhood, but she didn't consider it significant enough to be in the documentary. Moreover, talking about her private life... let's just say she didn't like it a lot.

The German knew his wife so well that he could vence how she was feeling at the moment. She had the urge to get up and give her a comforting hug, but he also knew that the recording couldn't be interrupted. For that reason, he simply smiled at her from his seat while giving her a thumbs up.

Diana, after seeing Sebastian doing that, laughed.

Since 2008, halfway through her second year as a Mechanical Engineering student and after joining the Toro Rosso internship program, she didn't know how the guy who initially seemed to be a jerk, ended up becoming her whole world.

"It's quite simple, Jenson: I was born in Linz, Austria, on April 27, 1988," began the woman. "My mum decided to end her life when I was 14, back in 2002, and that was the main reason why my dad took both my sister and I to Spain so we could start all over again."

Diana stared into the camera, beginning to ponder the impression people might have of her after that brief introduction.

Mark adjusted himself in his seat, ready to shift the conversation away from the glances Sebastian seemed to be directing at him. He had been fortunate to get to know the couple during his time at RedBull, and he had no doubt that both of them had changed a lot since then, especially the German.

“But every bad thing has something positive, right, Diana?” questioned Webber. “You always say that, and the fact that you’re here now is proof of it.”

“Exactly,” continued Jenson. “This might sound a bit bad, but if that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have met Seb.”

Mrs. Vettel nodded.

“It was all because of my father actually, who couldn’t bear the stares from neighbors, his coworkers, and the harassment my sister and I faced at school too,” explained the woman, her tears slightly evident. “We did it without thinking: we packed our most important belongings, my father quit his job and, a few hours laters, I was on a plane all the way to Barcelona, with no knowledge of Spanish and no expectations about what could happen in my new life.”

That made Sebastian remember one of the first conversations he had with Diana, where the young woman told him she felt more Spanish than Austrian.

“This is the first time I speak publicly about my childhood,” said Diana, wiping away smeared makeup with a tissue given to her by production. “I’m sorry, really: I always try to think that I’ve overcome it, but the fact is that you never really overcome it.”

“Do you feel more comfortable now that you’ve shared this with the audience?” Webber inquired in an attempt to console the young woman.

The redhead looked at Sebastian, who was visibly concerned at that moment.

“No,” she replied, “quite the opposite, actually. I think I’m even more vulnerable now, and social media criticism is going to pour in, but I’m glad I did it because I’ve taken a weight off my shoulders,” she listed, “and I also know that many viewers will realize the importance of mental health, especially in those moments when everything seems fine when it’s actually the opposite.”

“Is that a hint, sweetheart?”

Vettel, who already knew the answer, sarcastically commented. Still, he needed his wife to confirm it on camera.

“Everyone knows that when I gained confidence in myself, I never beat around the bush; this wasn’t going to be an exception.”

“What do you think is the highlight of your sudden move to Spain?” Button asked Diana.

“Being accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program,” she replied. “That’s when my dream of years started to come true, although hell also made its presence felt.”

Sebastian smiled, remembering it all too well.

The best was about to begin.

“Those who know me well know that I’ve been a Formula 1 fan since I was a child. 1994 is the year I remember the most, especially when Michael became world champion,” explained the Austrian, reminiscing early memories as an enthusiast of the sport. “I was only six years old, but that image is engraved in my memory.”

“For that reason, I decided to study Mechanical Engineering at Universidad Politécnica de Cataluña,” the woman continued in perfect Spanish, surprising everyone in the room except Seb.

“And that was before she even met me,” Sebastian chimed in, causing laughter among those present. “That was a great bonus.”

Taking the documentary seriously was going to be difficult, but as the woman used to say, within all those hard times, a laugh made it all forgettable.

“I studied for years, trying to give my best to get the highest grades,” Diana continued, “and I did it after achieving an average score of 9.28 out of 10 in selectividad, the Spanish entrance exam you need to take in order to study a degree.”

“Tell them if you really needed such a high score, Di.”

The girl laughed at her husband’s comment. She already knew where he was going with that.

“In fact, no: the cutoff score was, I believe, around a five out of ten. I just pushed myself to the limit because I was ambitious and wanted to be the best, too,” she smiled, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. “Well, and I still like to be the best.”

“See why we got along so well from the beginning?”

“That’s debatable, Sebastian,” remarked Webber, “bet let’s let the viewers hear your story little by little.”

“Indeed, Mark,” agreed Jenson Button with him, “let’s take it step by step. Diana, what made you join Toro Rosso?”

2007 December 3rd

Barcelona, Spain

The first semester of the second year of Diana being a university student seemed endless.

Final exams were approaching, bringing with them the submission of multiple papers, projects, and even some practical written tests. Adding to this, her father had recently lost his job just a few weeks ago. It was easy to understand why the Austrian, who had considered herself Spanish for years, was dozing off in one of the chairs in Room 7, even though it was time for one of her favorite classes: Fluid Mechanics.

As soon as Dr. Martínez stepped into the classroom, all the students stopped talking. Even Diana, who had closed her eyes for a few seconds to see if she could quell her sleep, opened them quickly. The woman, in her fifties, was one of the most beloved professors by students; at the same time, she was considered one of the strictest, and that's what made her one of the most wanted by universities not only in Spain but worldwide.

For this reason, and especially because she always fought for visibility of women in the scientific field, she was Wagner's favorite.

"Good morning, class," she greeted, positioning herself in the center of the platform where she usually lectured. A smile on her face appeared. "Before I start explaining the new topic, which I remind you is the last one for our January exam, I would like to share some news that I know will be interesting for most of you."

At these last words, those present began to pay even more attention, readjusting in their seats curious about what the woman had to announce. Diana was no exception.

"Some companies in the field of engineering have started offering scholarships for students like you to work with them while continuing their studies. For the most talented, I must say," she added with certain authority in her voice.

Excitement and anticipation for the announcement filled the room, where some surprised noises and, in other cases, disappointment, were heard.

"These scholarships offer the opportunity to have a unique experience, allowing you to enter the workforce earlier than expected. At the same time, it will help you start applying everything you have learned during this brief year and a half, and see if you are suited to do the job."

Murmurs began to fill the class. It was a truly incredible opportunity, and it would be rare for someone not to want to be part of it.

Diana, whose mind was always one step ahead, was already wondering which companies would be part of it. For that reason, she decided to raise her hand to ask.

"Miss, I would like to know if you could share more information about the companies that are offering these scholarships."

The woman nodded, thankful for the question from her favorite student and pleased to see her interest once again.

"Of course, Diana. There are leading companies in the field of automotive engineering, aerospace engineering, and something related to renewable energies, which are becoming popular. Each one has a different focus, with a wide variety of projects and areas, so I'm sure there will be interests for each of you."

The young woman's mind began to process all the information, looking through the possibilities the woman had mentioned. While her dream was to work in the automotive world that she was so passionate about, and the path was proving extremely challenging, the possibility of being awarded a scholarship was what made her cling to a distressing hope.

"To apply in this sort of internship program, you will need to send your CV and a letter explaining to the company why you would like to join them," the teacher explained. "Then, some responsible figure of the respective companies will choose the most outstanding students, I guess."

During the remaining class time, Diana could barely pay attention to the explanation. She was excited, and she would dare say scared, about this kind of talk that was taking place. Her innate curiosity made her want to know more. Therefore, when the teacher announced that the class had ended, and her classmates began to leave the room, the twenty-year-old started to pack her things slowly, making sure no one else was there before speaking with her teacher.

"Dr. Martínez, do you mind if I ask you some questions about the internship program?"

"Of course," she replied as she gathered her documents. "Tell me what's on your mind, Diana."

The girl tried to disguise her nervousness, clearing her throat before speaking.

"I have doubts about whether to apply to any of the companies. Honestly, I don't think they'll choose me because I'm a woman. I sometimes struggle to talk to my classmates, so I can't imagine what it would be like for me to apply for a position like that."

Martínez raised her gaze to the redhead, now dyed blonde, full of understanding.

"Diana, I understand that you're worried," she began, placing her hands on her shoulders, "but I want you to know that you are one of the brightest students I have had in these months, and I would even venture to say in my entire teaching career," she explained sincerely, earning an excited smile from the girl. "Keep in mind that, whatever you do, your gender doesn't have to be an obstacle for you to fight for what you want."

Those last words resonated strongly in Diana's mind, who was quite moved at that point. That was exactly what the young woman needed to hear.

"Also, I’d like to tell you something I haven't mentioned in class because I only want you to know, given your interest in a certain topic," the woman continued, further catching the student's attention. "The Toro Rosso Formula 1 team is offering a single position as an assistant for a race engineer, but I don't know which driver in particular."

Diana's eyes widened, not believing what she had just heard from her teacher. The idea of working in Formula 1 was the reason why she was there, striving every day even when she felt like giving up everything.

"Do you think I should send them my application, then?" Wagner asked, intending to make sure before making a hasty decision.

"Absolutely," Dr. Martínez affirmed firmly. "You are an exceptional student, and you have demonstrated great skills in just a year and a half of your studies, which impresses me quite a bit, to be honest. You have the potential to do great things within Formula 1, and I know you will go far if you make it to the sport."

As Diana continued to listen to the woman speak, she couldn't believe there was a chance, even if it was minimal, that her dream would come true. What she didn't like so much was the fact that the woman spoke as if she were already inside the world, but she could do nothing but get excited.

If her application was denied…

“By the way, Diana, are you free during the next hour?”

“Yes. In fact, I was about to head home,” answered Diana, questioning the woman in front of her. “Do you need something?”

The woman affirmed, nodding slightly.

“Let's create your cover letter and resume so we can send it as soon as possible,” she said, taking the lead. “I'm sure many of my colleagues in the department know this information just like me.”

The young woman agreed, and immediately they headed towards Martínez's office, trying not to attract too much attention among the students and, above all, hurrying as much as possible. In those moments, time was of the essence.

Once there, the professor took a seat in front of the computer and offered Diana the seat opposite her. Before the redhead had even let go of her belongings, the teacher was already pulling a stack of papers and a couple of pens from one of the desk drawers.

"Your resume comes directly from our database, but the cover letter doesn't," she explained briskly. "I want you to write down whatever you feel is the reason why you need that position at Toro Rosso."

Having said that, Martínez put on her glasses and focused her gaze on the screen, ignoring Wagner. The girl didn't know what to do or say. Who was she supposed to write to, Franz Tost? No, she was sure team bosses weren't the ones in charge of reading those letters, if anyone read them at all.

"Try to make it as natural as possible," the woman commented to her student without looking at her. "Make them see that you have a passion for engineering, for the sport, and especially, make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet."

Make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet.

Diana took a deep breath and began to let her ideas transfer to paper, flowing without much thought.

Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, it is an honor to have the opportunity to apply for this internship position in your prestigious racing team. Since I was a child, I have always dreamed of being part of the wonderful world of Formula 1...

No, too fanciful and flattering. The young woman crossed everything out, and seeing that she was starting to feel confused, she crumpled up the paper and set it aside on the corner of the table.

Dear Mr. Tost and the rest of the Toro Rosso team: I would like to express my sincere interest in the position of race engineer intern. As a Mechanical Engineering student, I have acquired skills that I would like to develop professionally and, above all, apply them to the field I have been passionate about since I can remember.

Why was it so difficult to write something just to try to make your dream come true?

Pilar Martínez glanced at Diana and shocked her head. That girl who was showing so much insecurity at that moment, as happened in many classes, had the potential to become one of the greatest prodigies in motorsport.

"Don't overthink it, lady," she said affectionately. "Show your true personality and, if you need to, just take a little break before continuing."

The girl shook her head. She simply closed her eyes and imagined what she wanted most at that moment: her, sitting in front of a wall of screens, with headphones on, communicating with Michael Schumacher about what he should do in every turn and straight, when he should pit for a tire change, and even celebrating the occasional victory.

Who said Schumacher, said Alonso. She would even settle for one of the rookies, like that guy who joined Toro Rosso halfway through the previous season and she liked a little bit, Sebastian Vettel.

After several more attempts, she finally brought out everything she wanted to say. She had never felt so proud of any of her writings; not even with her graduation speech in high school, which made the entire teaching staff cry.

Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, With my heart filled with excitement and, especially, gratitude for the opportunity given to university students like me to be part of your team, I submit my application for the internship position as a race engineer. My name is Diana Wagner, I was born in Austria nineteen years ago, and my heart not only belongs to Spain, the country that welcomed me when I needed it the most, but also to the sport of which you are a part: Formula 1. My journey as a Mechanical Engineering student has been short, but I assure you, intense; at the same time, I have grown and learned a lot not only as a future professional but as a person. Throughout this year and a half, I have acquired a wealth of skills and knowledge thanks to the professionals from whom I am fortunate to receive instruction, and if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have the necessary preparation to face certain challenges—although, not deceiving you, I have a long way to go and much to learn. Every subject studied, project completed, and tear shed has been an opportunity to test and prove to myself that even the impossible is difficult. Beyond my knowledge as a student, I would also like to tell you about my passion for the world of motorsports, as I briefly mentioned before. Since I can remember, I have followed every free practice, qualifying, and race, as well as every press conference of each Grand Prix. The deafening sound of the engines, the suffocating speed of the single-seaters, and the passion that teams and drivers have shown have not only been my inspiration to pursue my studies and shape my future but also to grow as a person. In the darkest times of my life, Formula 1 became my light, and it still is. Like drivers work tirelessly to give their best, I also strive to overcome the limits imposed not only because I am a woman, but also because I am too hard-working. Therefore, I know that the opportunity to work alongside the professionals that make up your team would be an unparalleled honor, and I assure you that every day I would show you that I am capable of more. I deeply appreciate the time you have taken to read my cover letter. Although it may be hard to believe the words of a girl who, after all, is still a teenager trying to make her way in the adult world, I assure you that I have to prove much more than what you think.

Possibly, those last words were what made it possible for Diana Wagner to be the selected candidate as an intern at Toro Rosso among approximately two thousand of the best students from all over Europe.

2008 March 13th

Australian GP

“Sweetheart, are you sure you have everything with you?”

The bleached blonde was certain that she did, that she had everything she needed for her new job except for one detail and, surprisingly, the most important one: knowing where she had to go. In front of her was the entrance to Albert Park, and all she felt was a great overwhelm from the size of that circuit. She saw people coming in and out of the venue constantly, both walking and in vehicles that probably cost as much, or even more, than the flat she lived with her sister and father in Barcelona.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I'm waiting outside for someone to come and meet me."

“But didn't you say you had to go inside, and that someone would be waiting for you in the box?”

She hated how blunt Amelie was.

“I'm more lost than during my exams period when we first moved to Spain,” she joked. “Now I'll try to figure out what to do. There’s no need to worry about me.”

Bernhard started shouting something in German to his younger daughter, and immediately continued talking to Diana. It seemed surreal to the girl that her family was making a phone call with her at two in the morning in Spain.

“You better get in there, even if you have to jump over a fence!,” he shouted in German, a little annoyed. “And I don't care if you get caught or anything: you haven't traveled to the other damn end of the world and left me with your sister, all alone, just for you to stand there with your arms crossed.”

When Bernhard Wagner got angry, he did, and a lot.

“Yeah, Dad, I know,” she replied, a bit angry because her father seemed not to trust her. “In fact, I'm getting closer now, I have the pass they sent me by mail in my hand, and I'm going through the accreditation with this weird machine. I'll hang up, okay?”

It was a rhetorical question because Diana, before being able to hear an answer from her father, hung up the call. As she let out a long sigh, held in throughout the phone call, she passed her accreditation through the identification sensor, but the photo they asked her for months ago didn't appear.

Again, she tried, and nothing appeared on the screen. She kept trying over and over, which managed to attract the attention of more than one of those present, who did nothing to help the intern.

“Damn it…”

After that, Diana began to unleash a string of curses in German, some of which she had made up on the spot and made no sense at all. She couldn't believe that it would be more difficult than she had planned just to enter the venue and talk to whoever she had to talk to. She was a firm believer in destiny, and she knew that it meant she had to go back to Spain, to her natural hair color and to her university courses.

Frustration was taking over the Austrian, and she was sure that, if she hadn't heard a male voice in German beside her, she would have burst into tears like she never did before.

“Do you speak German too? Do you want me to help you with that?”

Diana nodded her head and looked up at the person who was talking to her. A blond guy, of medium height, who seemed to be a couple of years older than her, was the one who was talking to her. His face was somewhat familiar, although she still couldn't put a name to it.

Another mistake for the rookie Diana Wagner. Of course, if there were other interns besides her, she was sure she wouldn't win the Intern of the Year award, if such a thing existed.

“I tried to get my accreditation to work, but, as you can see” she began to explain, pointing at the card, “it doesn't want to let me into the paddock.”

“Do you mind giving it to me?”

The girl offered it to him without hesitation, feeling much more relaxed in the company of that driver, in case he was. He proceeded to clean it a bit with his shirt a couple of times and immediately passed it again through the scanner.

Her name, along with a photo of her with her newly dyed blonde hair, appeared on the screen.

“So... Diana Wagner, huh?,” the guy inquired, wanting to know more about her. “What brings you here?”

“As they told me a few months ago, I am Toro Rosso's new intern. Supposedly, I'll be subordinate to a track engineer or something like that, I'm not really sure what I'll end up doing.”

The girl answered him honestly, and to her surprise, the stranger seemed to understand something that had been on her mind for a long time, as if he already knew who she was.

“Vettel is going to be damn lucky to have you,” he said shamelessly, “and I would be delighted to have a girl like you by my side too.”

Diana felt her cheeks flush, and although deep down that comment had bothered her, she couldn't help but feel flattered in part.

“And are you supposed to be...?”

“Nico Rosberg,” he took the girl's hand and gave it a short kiss, “F1 driver for Williams. It's an honor to meet you, and let me tell you that, if you get bored with the other blond German, you have privileged access to my box whenever you want.”

Putting on his backpack and giving the girl a slight bow, he left without giving any explanation.

Diana was left bewildered by what she had just experienced. However, even more impressed was Sebastian, who began to feel sorry because he knew that, no matter how much that blonde-haired girl tried to give her best, they would only minimize her achievements.

[...]

After a couple of laps around the circuit, and some explanation of how Formula 1 Grand Prix weekends worked, Diana Wagner was already sitting at a long table with Franz Tost, Toro Rosso's team principal.

The man, despite showing a quite serious demeanor, maintaining composure at all times, had inspired enough confidence in the intern for her to open up a bit to him, especially talking about how her career was going; they also discussed how the blonde would balance her studies with her new job. All this while her supposed boss and the driver she would be subordinate to appeared.

A few knocks on the door startled her. Tost, as if he already knew about the imminent arrival, got up from his seat and headed to the door. As soon as he opened it, it revealed a man in his thirties accompanied by a boy who was already wearing the team's uniform.

Although he looked like Rosberg, at the same time, she could tell he was completely different: his face was longer, and his height seemed to be a few centimeters shorter. He had a big smile on his face, and as soon as he entered the room, he started making jokes that even made the girl laugh.

She barely knew that boy, and he already inspired trust in her.

“Alright, Diana,” announced Franz, causing her to stand up quickly: “this is Alex, who will be, let's say, your master in terms of track engineering,” he introduced the man, shaking his hand, “and this is Sebastian Vettel, one of the young promises we are lucky to have in our team.”

The blonde cheerfully extended his hand to the girl, who accepted it gladly.

“Please, Franz, don't say that,” joked Vettel, “I'm just a kid with incredible potential waiting to get a world title or something similar.”

The intern laughed, immediately regretting it. Her shyness was showing, and Sebastian noticed it, so that's why he decided to gently stroke her hand, slowly enough so that no one else, besides them, would know about that small gesture.

“See?,” said the German, now addressing his engineer, “I told you she was going to like me.”

2023

“That season was a mess,” said Sebastian, looking at the camera while fixing his hair. “The first four races ended in a DNF, and my motivation went down completely” explained the former driver. “The car was crap, but not finishing four damn races? Shit, I didn't want to say bad words…”

“What Seb means,” his wife stated, interrupting him, “is that he had much higher expectations in March 2008, and little by little, he started being conscious of reality. I went through the same thing: even though I thought I was going to do little, I ended up doing even less.”

The documentary directors recalled that information.

“The camera is yours, Mrs. Vettel,” one of the cameramen spoke over, receiving a thumbs up from the redhead.

“There's not much to say, really, except that I remember thinking about leaving because all I did was sit in front of the screens and watch the race just like I did from the TV in my house,” she expressed a bit angry, remembering everything all too well. “And of course, the comments and looks couldn't be missing. I felt like a Playboy model sometimes, I swear. They even mistook me for a grid girl one day entering the pit lane!”

“God, yes,” Seb agreed, joining his wife's monologue. “I don't know if you guys remember,” he pointed at Jenson and Mark, “but there were times when, I swear, it felt like it was more of a Jersey Shore-type show or something like that than a race weekend.”

Diana agreed with the German.

“I think, if I remember correctly, I received a total of forty-eight requests to go out for a drink from Friday to Sunday,” she tried to remember. “Well, a drink and a sex session after that, let's be honest.”

“And I'm glad to say that I wasn't part of that group of assholes,” he covered his mouth directly, receiving a reprimanding look from Webber. “But I had a reason not to.”

“Yes,” the redhead agreed, “although it's not the time to talk about that. Remember sunshine: let's go step by step.”

“It's not to stay on Sebastian’s side,” interrupted Button the couple's dialogue, “but since the moment he first met you, he had incredible respect for you, and I would even dare say admiration.” Vettel snorted, remembering some of the many rumors the girl he fought so much for had to face. He remembered more than once hearing her going to vent in Toro Rosso's bathroom, and even on more than one occasion, he heard her secretly talking to her father, asking him to please fake some illness or something to get out of that.

Ironically, it came true.

“I've been Diana Vettel's number 1 fan since the day I met her,” confessed Seb. “Since March 13, 2008, to be more precise.”

Everyone was impressed by Sebastian's memory, including Diana.

“In addition to the announcement made during the German Grand Prix week, where it was finally revealed that you would join Red Bull the following year thanks to Coulthard's retirement, becoming my teammate,” Mark continued, laughing, “there was another event that marked you in 2008, shortly after.”

“It seemed like everything was going downhill for this lady here,” Sebastian pointed at Diana, “and for me, and that our effort was in vain.”

“But Monza changed everything because Sebastian and I discovered that, together, we could do great things,” continued the woman, trying not to kiss her husband, who had a huge smile on his face, in front of everyone.

[fiercynn]

some of the shit thats being demanded of an archive run by volunteers is more than a little ridiculous. Putting the onus on, amongst other things, not having a timeline for when emails will be responded to- and not seeing that a quintupling of their usual attendance in a discord meeting would cause things to get a little crazy- does little more than reduce the feeling of seriousness for the rest of your cause. Cmon now

i mean, i do hear you on things like responding to emails. what was frustrating in that board meeting was that they didn't have a good process for taking questions and made it incredibly confusing to know how to do it, and then, when people would ask for a better process/clarification, board members would simply say, "then use our contact us form!" despite people knowing that they don't have time and energy to respond to those promptly - or, possibly, to even read them. so it felt like they were trying to just push us off either way.

i disagree with you on preparation for the meeting, though. there was just no way they couldn't have expected a much bigger meeting than usual, because the issues that have come up in the past couple months have covered such a range of issues - from racism to AI stuff to mistreatment of volunteers - that there was bound to be interest. the board had been receiving tons of messages via that contact us form. their own volunteers warned them that it would be a big meeting. @end-otw-racism was publicly encouraging people to attend and even shared what kinds of questions people could ask about racism! there was no reason not to be better prepared.

i also want to emphasize that there otw does not have to be a scrappy, incompetent organization. they have over a thousand volunteers and more than a $2.5 million budget surplus. meaning that money is not needed for their next six months of operating expenses, nor has it been dedicated to anything else (at least publicly). they have so little idea what to do with that money that in 2022 they only earned ~$90 in interest income, meaning that money has not even been invested prudently. it's ludicrous. and it's not unreasonable to expect that an organization use its resources properly. i know tons of nonprofits that would be thrilled to have $2.5 million (which is five years of otw's operating expenses - an absurd amount to have in reserve!) that are far smaller and scrappier.

back to this meeting - there were lots of very simple things they could have done differently. they could have appointed other otw volunteers to moderate the channels so that the board members could focus on actually answering questions. they could have frozen messages in the main channel earlier when it was already looking chaotic (they did not do so until halfway through the meeting), but simultaneously had a separate channel for questions so that those were not lost. they could have made a policy of only one question per attendee so that some folks were not hogging the conversation. all of these things could have been done in the moment when they realized how much of a shitshow the meeting was becoming.

when an organization that people are supporting and donating to cannot adequately respond to constructive questions and feedback, that is pretty unacceptable. and so many of us are coming in with a lot of distrust because otw has failed and delayed on so many of their commitments to fans of color in the past. i'm not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt - they have to earn people's trust back. this meeting was not a step in that direction.

[didhewinkback]

you're my best friend

the last chapter of the something old universe. it is, in fact, the proposal. the photos are more for a general vibe, he is not wearing a baseball cap when he proposes okay.

warnings: smut; switches pov halfway through. word count: 18k

---

June 2022

“I wanna marry you.”

You freeze, the plate in your hand clattering onto the table as you look up at him, his own eyes as wide as you imagine yours are, looking like he absolutely did not mean to say what he just said. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears as you stare back at him, his mouth opens and closes a few times like the words won’t come out.

“Are you -” you start to ask but stop yourself, not sure if it is totally ruining the moment if you ask if this is what you think it is, if he is actually proposing to you in the backyard in Italy while you’re wearing your ugliest pair of gym shorts, covered in stains from the dinner you had just finished cooking. It’d be fine if he was - more than fine, it’s just you haven’t talked about any of this and he’s still on tour for another year - 

“No. ‘m not - this isn’t -” he cuts off your mental spiral, as he plants his hands on the back of the chair he’s standing behind, shaking his head. “This isn’t a proposal.”

“Ookay.”

“It’s a… proposal for a proposal.”

“Okay?” you say with a laugh as he grimaces, head dropping down with a big exhale. 

“Swear ‘ve planned this out better, been practicing what to say -” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair before holding it out to you. “Can you come over here, please?”

You walk over towards him, taking his hand and he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist as you bring your hands up to his face, thumbs rubbing over the pink tinge blooming on his cheeks.  

“Your heart’s racing,” he mumbles, pulling you closer against him. “Can feel it.”

“Yeah, well, you gave me a bit of a shock there.” you say and he groans, leaning his head into your hands. “You’re blushing.”

“Feel like I mucked this all up.”

“You haven’t -”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that -” 

“It’s alright,” you say gently. “I just don’t really know what you meant to say?”

His eyes graze over your features as he takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

“I want to marry you.” he says, the look in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat. “Been thinking about it for a while now and think - I know it’ll be the best thing I ever do. But I - ”

He pauses, looking down for a moment before looking back up at you, his eyes a bit unreadable as he shifts his weight to his other foot. You brush your thumb along his cheekbone before sliding your hands down to his shoulders, squeezing the back of his neck once. 

“But I know that ‘s a bit complicated because I’ve done this bit before.” he continues, eyes flitting across your face when your stomach drops, his ever perceptible gaze picking up on even the slightest change of your expression before he quickly speaks again. “‘S important to me that we talk about this ‘nd see where we’re both at with it. Because I don’t want to do anything that’s gonna make y’ feel uncomfortable or second rate or summat -” 

He cuts himself off, brow furrowing as he shakes his head in frustration, staring off into the yard, eyes watching the slowly falling sun. He turns back to face you after a few moments, new determination in his eyes. 

“This means everything to me, you and I.” he says, eyes never wavering from yours. “Everything. But I want us to do this whatever way you want. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however you want to. I mean - if you want to -”

“I do.” you say, breathlessly cutting him off, heart stopping in your throat when you watch the way your words hit him, his whole face opening up, his eyes blinking rapidly. 

“Okay. That’s -” he huffs out a laugh, swallowing before speaking. “I mean that’s good. That’s really - Christ, I’ve never been less smooth in my life -” 

“I know, what is going on with you?” you ask, laughing when he drops his head with a groan. “Did you think I was going to say something different?”

“No - I just.” he stops himself with a sigh. You give him a second, before gently cupping his jaw and lifting his face back towards you. He looks at you, eyes grazing over your features before he plants a kiss to your palm. “‘s been fucking me up a bit, thinking about how I may have ruined some part of this for you. ‘S a big step, this. And it bloody kills me to think that my past may have soured this for you. ‘S the last thing I ever wanted to do-” 

“Whoa, hey, I know.” you say gently, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone, the days old stubble scratching your skin as he goes quiet, watching you with rapt attention. “It’s not been soured at all.”

“No?” he asks, hands tightening around your waist. 

“No,” you say with a firm shake of your head. “I mean, I don’t love thinking about you proposing to someone else but I don’t think that has anything to do with us, not now, after all this time has passed. It feels very different now, you know? Everyone’s moved on and your bloody Uncle Mack has finally stopped making jokes at weddings about how your cousins should watch out for me, how it only takes Twist men one time to get it right -”

Harry groans, squeezing his eyes shut as you laugh. “I still am really sorry about that. Mum did give him a proper bollocking for it, though, if that makes it any better.”

“It does.”

“Good.” he says, the corner of his mouth hitching up slightly, his shoulders relaxing, looking the most at ease he has since this conversation began.

“You know, I have given this a fair bit of thought myself this past year,” you say, you can feel his breath hitch. “And never once has anything I imagined felt soured or ruined by anything you or I have done. So I really wish you’d talk to me, instead of tying yourself up in knots over it -”

“Talking to you now, aren’t I?” he grumbles sheepishly.

“Yeah, and how’s that going for you?”

“Oiii -”

“Can feel you sweating through your shirt -”

“Oh cheers for that, darling. Next time I have one of the most important conversations of my life I’ll be sure to keep my perspiration levels in check -” 

“Perspiration levels? You are such a nerd -” 

“Yeah, a nerd you’d like to marry - 

“Oh god, you’re right,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, heartbeat picking up when his mouth twitches into a smile. “What does that say about me?” 

“That you’re very charitable.” he says, arms tightening around your waist, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Or quite stupid.” 

You snort out a laugh, leaning in slow, nudging your nose against his.

“Feeling quite lucky actually,” you mumble against his mouth before pressing your lips to his. He instantly crushes you against his chest as he kisses you back, taking his time, kissing you the exact way you like to be kissed. He’s mumbling in between kisses, “‘s me who’s the lucky one, baby” the words falling against your lips as he refuses to pull away for too long, kissing you like he has all the time in the world. 

He pulls away slowly, lips dragging across your skin as he kisses a line up your face, resting his mouth against your forehead. 

“Nothing has ever felt like this before,” he says quietly. “Never wanted anything more in my life.” 

“Me either.”

“I did want to talk about it for real though.” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’d like to propose to you, properly, get down on one knee, tell you how much you’ve made me a better man…unless that is something you don’t -”

“No, I would.” you say, his lips twitching up at how quickly you cut him off. “I would like that. But I’d like that to just be us. No one else but you and me. if you do it publicly or have a flash mob planned, I’m going to say no.” 

“There goes all my plans,” he says, soft smile on his face as he brings his hand up to cup your jaw. “What else would you like?”

“I’d like to have a wedding.” you say, the look on his face making your stomach swoop, your cheeks heat up as his thumb brushes against your skin, matching grins practically splitting your faces in half. “Would quite like to see you cry when I walk down the aisle.” 

“Baby, ‘m gonna weep.” he says, pulling your face towards his so he can kiss you, though it's not much of a kiss, given how wide you’re both smiling, giggling against each other's mouths. “What else?”

“I’d like to say vows to you”, you say, your breath catching as you watch him take a deep breath, his eyes going misty. “Tell you that it’s only ever been you, for me. And that it’ll over ever be you.”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips gentle against yours despite the way his grip has tightened as he walks you a step back so you’re flush against the table, his hips resting against yours. 

“What else?”

“I’d like to go on a long honeymoon and have a lot of sex,” you say and he huffs a laugh against your neck, tapping your hip with two fingers before helping you push yourself up onto the table, widening your legs so he can fit in between, his hands slowly roaming your body. “I mean, a lot.”

“What else?” he asks softly, lips dragging against your skin as he plants a line of slow kisses up your neck. 

“I’d like to be your wife,” you say, breath catching when he pulls his face back to look at you, adoring eyes trained on yours. “Been dreaming about what it’s going to feel like when you call me it for the first time.” 

“I’d like to be your husband.” he says gruffly. “‘S all I -”

“Me too.”

You regard each other for a moment, hearts racing, misty eyes locked on each other, in awe of this life you’re building together, of the road that lays ahead of you. Knowing the person right in front of you is who you want to be with for the rest of your life. And knowing they feel the same. 

You can’t really help it when the tears start to fall, feeling overwhelmed with the love you have for the man in front of you. Overwhelmed by how much that love has grown and shifted over the course of your life, never not a part of you, never stronger than it is now. He cups your jaw with his hand, thumb softly brushing away the tears, looking none the more held together himself.

“I know, baby. I know.” he says. “Me too. S’ - just - c’mere.”

He leans in, kissing you with everything he has, hand steady on your jaw as his lips drag against yours, pulling you closer to kiss you deeper. You wind your arms around his neck, your hand coming up to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck as his tongue slides over yours. He’s holding you like the most precious thing, his other hand tightening its hold on your hip as he kisses you over and over.

He pulls back to breathe, leaning back in to kiss you once before pulling back, his lips dancing along your cheeks until he hears you laugh, pressing one more kiss to your temple before pulling away. 

“Can I say one more logistical question and then I swear this sweaty conversation will be over ‘nd you can make me sweat in other ways -”

“Jesus Christ -” you say and he barks out a laugh, smiling wide when you laugh with him, his hands holding you tighter as he smacks a kiss to your forehead with a giggle.

“‘S just - I’d like to wait a bit.” he says. “Work is still quite crazy ‘nd I’ve kinda got this fantasy of getting to be in one place with you for a while once we’re engaged. Not having to jet off to any obligations or anything. Unless you’d rather-”

“No, no I don’t think I’m ready for all that quite yet. That makes sense to me, waiting a bit.” you say. “I’m not really in a rush, I’m still quite content being your girlfriend.”

“Oh that’s great to hear, cheers for the feedback.” he says, grinning when you giggle. “So how’d you feel about like… sometime after the end of tour next year?”

“Yeah, I think I could be someone’s fiancée by then.” you say, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face as he smiles back at you, the two of you just staring at each other giddily. “I’d have to check my calendar, but I should be able to squeeze you in.”

“Never had a problem doing that before,” he says, giggling when you swat at him before grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “So that sounds alright to you then?”

“Yeah, it’s alright with me.” you say, and he squeezes your hand, planting a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too.” you say, words drifting into a sigh when he leans in to capture your lips. His hands fall to your hips, gripping tighter as his mouth starts to pull away from yours, planting a line of kisses along your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck and taking his time.

“Is dinner gonna be fucked if I do you on this table right now?” he says, and your laugh quickly turns into a gasp as his tongue darts out along your neck, sucking at the skin and making his presence known. 

“We can reheat it.” you say breathlessly. “Or go into town later. I don’t care. I need you, I need -”

“Yeah, yeah - me too baby - ”

He lifts off your neck to capture your lips once more, immediately deepening the kiss as he groans into your mouth. His hands slide down your hips and trail along the front of your thighs, gently guiding them wider. He pulls back, licking his lips as his eyes roam your body, his pupils blown wide as his chest heaves before leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Suppose I should should start practicing getting down on my knees.” he mumbles against your mouth, pulling back slowly with a wink as he slowly sinks down to the ground, pulling you closer to the edge of the table as his lips start to trail down your thighs and everything else fades away.

September 2023

“This spot look okay?” he asks, pulling you to a stop on the middle of the hill. You look out at the completely empty field that surrounds you, the view of the town just a ways down the hill, almost sparkling in the September sun. It’s just you and him for miles.

“Bit crowded, innit?” you say and he snorts in reply, waiting for you to look back at him so you can see his eye roll in full effect.

“Good one.” he deadpans, seemingly taking your snarky answer as confirmation that this is a nice spot to stop, as he squeezes your hand once before letting go, placing the picnic basket on the ground. You reach into your bag to pull out the blanket, unfurling it before laying it down and taking a seat as he gets to work on unpacking the basket and you know better than to disturb an artist at work.

It’s a new hobby of his, borne out of a competition with Gemma a few weeks ago to see who could arrange the best snacks for the boat. Naturally, he lost and has not been a decent sport about it. He is now a man possessed. You bite your tongue as you watch him pull out the board - yes he packed a board - and begin to assemble the charcuterie with utter concentration. 

“Can feel y’ about to laugh at me.” he says, not daring to look up from his careful arrangement of cheeses.

“I’m not even saying anything!”

“Yeah but you forget how well I know you,” he mutters, pulling a container of sliced peaches out of the basket and making quick work of getting them on the board. “Can feel it in your stare.”

“I -”

“But don’t you worry, baby,” he continues and you can feel him on the precipice of a dramatic monologue, “I’ve dealt with my fair share of critics. People who don’t understand the vision of a true artist, don’t appreciate the skills required to tackle such a task. I know how to rise against adversity -”

“Jesus Christ -”

“I believe in myself ‘nd my work,” he barrels on, undeterred, trying his best to maintain a straight face but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch up, “‘m not afraid to face my haters -”

“Oh my god,” you say, laughter breaking through your words as you tackle him back against the blanket, straddling his hips as you slap your hand across his mouth, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he looks back at you, looking all too pleased with himself as his hands coming up to rest against your thighs. “Are you done? Can you be? Please?” 

He shakes his head, eyes crinkling as you slide your hand down, resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.

“I’ve got more in me baby. But you’ve found my kryptonite,” he says, eyes darting down to your mouth before looking back up at you, hands sliding up to squeeze at your hips. “Quickest way to shut me up. You on top of me.”

“You forget how well I know you,” you say, in a horrible impression of his voice, expecting him to take the bait, crack a joke but instead his face softens as he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, his hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, pulling you in. 

“Could never forget that. Not ever.” he whispers. “Come here.”

He pulls you in, his lips pressing against yours so gently you almost forget how you ended up here, trying to shut him up from his stupid joke that you secretly loved, which he knows as well as you. 

You both pull back slowly, slightly panting into each other’s mouths as you lock eyes and he’s got that look on his face, the look that makes your breath catch in your throat, the look that makes your heart race, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The look you’ve seen more times this year than any other, the look that you won’t let yourself fall for this time. Because you know what's on the other side of this look. You can feel it in your bones, can read it in his eyes, knowing you want the same things just as badly. Looking at you like you hold the keys to the universe. Like it’s just the two of you on this planet. Like he’s moments away from saying those words you’ve been waiting for, the words you talked about last summer.

You saw it on his face after his last night at Wembley, convinced he was about to propose to you stark naked in his dressing room, his dungarees still pooling around his ankles. You saw it the morning after the last night of tour, when he slept in the latest he’s slept in two years, after he rolled over to find you quietly reading as you waited for him to wake up, sleepy eyes locking with yours. You’ve seen flashes of it all week, when you came back from the market when you got the exact honey he likes, when you woke up early three days ago to join him on his morning run, when you decided to go for a midnight swim completely naked two nights ago. 

He’s always been shit at surprises is the thing, always too excited to see the person’s reaction so he inevitably spoils it anyway. It’s something Gemma has ragged on him about for years, the amount of times during their childhood that he blurted out the gifts they got their mum for her various birthdays, always too excited to see her reaction that he couldn’t contain himself. It happened throughout your friendship too.  Like the time he burst into your room on Boxing Day when you were ten to tell you your families were going on a joint holiday that year mere hours before your parents intended to surprise you, or the time he flew on a red eye from Paris mid filming to see you on your 22nd birthday, completely ruining Roxy’s elaborate ruse by blurting out, “I’m outside” on the phone when he was supposed to pretend he was stuck on set all night.  So you’ve always had the feeling you’d know when he was about to propose, that he wouldn’t be able to contain himself due to the excitement and gravity of the occasion but so far this motherfucker has been a steel trap.  

But you can see it now, in the look on his face. And you can feel it, you swear you can. It’s in the way he’s slowly brushing your hair from your face, his other hand resting on your hip, a light but possessive hold. But you know better than to fall for it this time, know this will be another one of those moments where he can knock the wind out of you with a mere look in his eyes and then say something completely mundane like…

“Food’s ready.” 

Exactly. You barely suppress an eye roll, giving him a quick kiss as you roll off of him, though he doesn’t let you get far as he sits up, rearranging himself so you can settle back between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, the platter of snacks within reach. 

“Did you already take a pic to send to Gem or should I wait before diving in?”

“Y’ know sometimes, the artist just creates for the sake of creating. Doesn't need an audience to validate his passion - ,” he says, laughing when you groan, pressing a kiss to the back of your head before mumbling, “course I’ve already taken a picture.”

You dive into the food from there, reaching into the basket to pull out the wine you packed, pouring it into the paper cups you brought and handing him a glass. You’re both buzzing about having this time together, just the two of you, no work obligations, no friends or family to host, just getting to hold each other close and talk about everything and nothing. 

He teases you about the absolute state you left the kitchen in a few weeks ago, when you Gemma and Roxy had a few too many and were convinced you could make authentic Italian pizza, which resulted in more dough stuck to the ceiling than you’d like to admit. You tell him about the early stages of planning you’ve been doing for your parents 30th anniversary party, desperate to properly celebrate the most aspirational love story you’ve ever known, two people who have always put their love for the other first in everything they do, just two best friends who have loved each other deeply all this time. And he only asks about 15 times to see pictures of Sammy, the puppy you’re adopting in two weeks when you get back to London. It’s mostly just the same two pictures he’s seen one hundred and nine times but that doesn’t stop his face from completely lighting up all the same, as he says “he’s gonna be ours”. 

Hours pass, but it could be minutes, time always seeming to fly when the two of you are together.  And most of the food is gone, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you play with his hands resting in your lap as his head rests against yours when you’re almost bowled over with emotion for a moment. It’s just - you love him. Can’t believe that after all this time, you can still have the most fun just sitting and talking to each other, never getting bored of hearing every thought in his head or getting to make him laugh or being on the receiving end of one of the cheesiest jokes of all time. 

“This is just one of my favorite things,” you say softly.

“What is?” he asks.

“Talking to you. Listening to you talk. Like in my life I’ve probably talked to you more than I’ve talked to anyone else and I still just never get tired of it.” you say, leaning back into his chest as his arms tighten around you. “I just really love you, you know?” 

“Yeah, I do.” he says softly, his hand coming up under your chin to guide your face back to his, kissing you gently as his thumb strokes against your cheekbone. He pulls back slowly, planting kisses along your cheek, temple and hairline, arms wrapping around you to pull you tighter against him. “Do y’ remember the first time we met?”

“When we were six?” you ask and he hums in response. “I mean…not really? I can’t tell if what I remember is because I actually remember it or if I’d been told it. I remember being really obsessed with Gemma.”

“Oii –” 

“Just because - hey, let me finish,” you say with a laugh, “She was nine going on ten and we were only six and she was so bloody cool and I got to be neighbors with her.”

“Fair play.”

“Thank you very much.” you say, smiling at how easily his delicate ego can be bruised. “I can remember like, flashes of that time but my more vivid memories with you are from years later. But my mum talks about it all the time - when we first moved to Holmes Chapel, meeting your family and it always, always makes her cry.” 

“Why?” he asks softly, his hands finding yours again, squeezing lightly. 

“I think -” you start to stay, brow furrowing as you try to place these memories flashing through your mind. It’s nothing tangible, there’s no clear image in your mind but you’re grasping at the ghost of a feeling, that that little six year old you felt, surprising yourself with how emotional you feel. “I think she had been quite nervous about the move, feeling badly we could no longer afford our old place once Dad lost his job and she’d been really nervous she just fucked my whole life up, taking me away from the friends I had made at that age. I was quite a loud kid but became pretty quiet when we first moved, like I could sense that my entire life was changing even if I didn’t fully understand why, so she got scared that I would just be alone all the time or have a hard time making friends. But she always says that - oh fuck, this is going to make me cry now too -”

“What is it?” he asks gently, thumbs rubbing over the backs of your hands.

“She says that there was a moment that she knew I would be okay, and that we’d be okay and that her and Dad had made the right call. It was a few weeks after we moved, she had left me playing outside for a moment when she ran in to grab something and a few minutes later she heard me laughing really, really hard. Like when she tells this story, she says she’d never heard me laugh that hard before. And she came back out to see what was going on, and there you were. And we were just playing together and really cracking each other up. And that’s when she knew we’d be alright. Because of you.”

You can feel his sharp intake of breath and you turn in his hold, his hands falling to your hands to steady you as you settle onto his lap. You just take your time looking at him, the man that boy grew into, the handsomest man you’ve ever known, the only man you’ve ever loved. God, you love him. You’ve always loved him, but it’s different now. You’ve never felt like this before, about anyone, him included. What your younger selves thought was love was merely scratching the surface of what it means to know him like this, to be entrusted with his heart like this. It’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you, him. It feels impossible to describe most days, how the hell you got lucky enough to fall in love with your best friend, to have him love you back just as hard. You blink back into focus and he’s got that look on his face again, his eyes glassier than usual as he swallows back against the emotion. 

“Y’ never told me that story before,” he says, leaning into your touch when your hands come up to frame his face.

“Think Ang was saving it for a big speech someday. So if you hear it again, just pretend you didn’t.” you say and he huffs a watery laugh. “She’s got a new ending for it now though.”

“What’s that?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“That there are three times she’s known deep in her bones that I’d be alright, that I was right where I was meant to be.” you say, breath catching as you blink back tears, softly brushing his hair back over his ear. “One was when she found us playing when we were six, one was when I gave that speech at graduation and the third… was when you came out onto that courtyard, looking for me.”

“Baby -”

You close the gap between you in a millisecond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he kisses you back, giving as good as he’s getting, barely giving you time to breathe before he’s diving back in for another one. His lips drag against yours as he licks expertly into your mouth, goosebumps erupting all over your body as his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, the two of you getting lost in each other. 

You pull back eventually, unable to stop yourself from kissing along his jaw, planting a final kiss against his temple before pulling back completely. 

“Thank you for playing in the backyard with me.” you say softly.

“Could play with you right now if y’ want.”

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Not like that, you deviant mind.” he laughs, lying through his teeth. “Could play cops ‘nd robbers or summat -”

“Roleplay. Kinky.”

He honks out a laugh at that, head tilting back as his shoulders shake and you can’t help but laugh with him. 

“Dirty, dirty mind.”

“Yeah, I learned from the best.” you say and he grins, eyes crinkling as he looks back at you. 

“Hey,” he says, keeping one hand on your hip as he reaches back into the bag, pulling out this camera and handing it to you. “Could y’ take a picture of us please?”

“You wanna do a selfie?” you ask and he nods with a smile. 

You turn back around in his hold, pulling the camera up to face the two of you. He nestles his chin onto your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and you can feel the movement of his cheek against your face, his beard lightly scratching you as he breaks into a wide grin that you can’t help but match. You take the picture going to pull the camera back but he stops you.

“Do another one please.” he murmurs and you’re about to press the trigger when he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you take the picture. You scrunch your nose almost involuntarily, feeling a swoop of butterflies as a blush forms on your cheeks like you’re fifteen years old. 

It just never gets old, with him. The way he wears his adoration on his sleeve, the little things he does almost subconsciously to keep you close, letting you know you’re always on his mind. Like how he can’t walk next to you without having his hands on you in some way, whether it’s holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your shoulder, sometimes just sliding his fingers through your belt loops.

It’s just every time he’s next to you, like a few weeks ago when you were sat next to each other, both in separate conversations but he slipped his hand along your thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth as he laughed with Mitch. The way he lets you sleep in any time he can, like this morning when he quietly slipped out for a long run before sliding back into bed a few hours later to wake you up slowly, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he slipped down under the sheets. It’s the way he listens, always hanging onto your every word even if you’re telling the most boring story in the world. It’s a lot, to be loved by him. It’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you and you can only hope that he feels your love just as strongly as you do his.

“Where’d you go?” he asks softly, brushing your hair back from your face as you turn to face him. 

“Just thinking about you.” you say and his smile softens into something more private, something just for you. “How much I love you.”

He takes a deep, shaky breath, thumb softly dragging down the side of your face as his eyes roam over your features.

“I love you so much, baby.” he says, pulling you in to kiss you gently. 

He pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth before reaching down to take the camera out of your hands, now aiming at you.

“Oh, H -” you groan, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover the lens before he gently grabs your wrist and pulls it out of the lens’ way.

“Indulge me, darling.”

“You’ve got nine hundred pictures of me on there.”

“Yeah, well, ‘d like to make it nine hundred and one.” he says, already adjusting the focus on the camera as he holds it up, clearly not taking no for an answer. You heave a sigh, smiling when you hear him chuckle as he takes the picture. And then takes another one, and another one. And another one. 

“Oh my god, you said one!” you laugh, pushing the camera down away from your face as he laughs.

“Changed my mind. Needed photographic evidence of me making you blush,” he says, trying to pull the camera back up before you push it down again. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a man for trying to capture his favorite subject.”

You’re helpless to do anything but shake your head at him, heart skipping a beat as he smiles back at you, quickly putting the camera back in the bag before wrapping his arms around you once more, burying his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, the two of you just sitting there for a few moments, holding each other close, breathing each other in. 

“What do you say,” he starts, mumbling into your neck as he slowly presses a line of kisses along your jaw before pulling back completely, smiling softly at you before continuing, “we head over to Leonardo’s to grab a drink and check out the sunset? Supposed to be a good one.”

“That sounds nice.” you say, running your fingers through his hair as he smiles back at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” you say, smacking a kiss to his cheek before standing up and helping him up as you both start to clear up the picnic. You can feel his eyes on you more often than not, and every time you look over at him you catch him staring right back, smiling at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. You fold up the blanket together and he smacks a kiss to your forehead when you meet in the middle, giggling when you roll your eyes. He gathers the bags, putting them one on top of the other on his shoulder and picks up the picnic basket, always making sure to leave one hand free for you to grab onto. 

“Ready?” you ask, holding your hand out towards him and he looks back at you and suddenly your simple question feels like something more, though you can’t quite put your finger on what. It just feels like there is something in the air, like you’re on the cusp of something bigger. But you just let the thought pass, deciding to just exist in the present moment instead of overanalyze it because there he is, smiling that brilliant smile at you, eyes full of love as they stare back into yours.

—

He takes a moment to take everything in. The slowly sinking sun, the trees blowing in the summer breeze, the town sprawling out below. It’s been stunning all day, almost as if he planned the weather along with everything else. The perfect day for his perfect girl. He looks over at you, patiently waiting, knowing how he likes to take his time, to soak a moment in, commit the day to memory, take a second to express his gratitude to whoever in the universe let him have days like this, let him have you. 

He looks at you, gorgeous, stunning, beautiful you, and the way you were looking back at him, your hand outstretched towards his. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you looking at him like that but he’s determined to do everything he can to get you to look at him that way for the rest of his life. He takes your hand, squeezing it once, resisting the urge to run his thumb along your bare ring finger, feeling giddy with the knowledge that this would be the last time he would hold your hand without a ring on that finger. Holy shit. 

He’s trying desperately to sneak in a meditative breath, to manually slow his heart rate down so as to not raise suspicion as you make your way back towards town. Trying his best to appear calm, cool and collected and not like he was mere minutes away from one of the biggest moments of his entire life.

He’s not nervous, necessarily. He knows what you’re going to say, feels like the luckiest man in the world that he knows with absolute certainty how you feel about him, that you are in this as much as he is. He just needs to get this moment exactly right. He’s spent a lifetime choosing his words carefully but never more so than now, desperately hoping the words he came up with can begin to encapsulate all that you mean to him, knowing no words will truly ever be be able to do you and all that you are justice but he’s going to give it his best try. 

It’s been a perfect day so far. He slipped out in the early hours while you were still sleeping under the guise of a long morning run to get everything set up, facetiming his Mum and Gemma and your parents sporadically, texting Johnny, Roxy,  Archie and Jeff in between set ups before he put his phone away, wanting this day to just be about the two of you, wanting to set up as quickly as possible to get back to where you were waiting for him in bed. 

And now, after spending the afternoon on a picnic, wrapped up in each other with no one else for miles, here you both are, turning down familiar streets as you make your way closer to Leonardo’s and he feels like he might scream, the energy building inside him coming to a near boiling point. He’s just really bloody excited, is the thing. More excited than he’s ever been in his life, which is saying a lot, considering all he’s done this year, this life. But none of that has even come close to this. 

Because all that out there, while wonderful, while the most unbelievable thing to happen to some guy from Holmes Chapel, it belongs out there, to everyone else. He’s proud of all he’s done obviously and knows how much he’s had a hand in it but all the accolades, the adoring fans, the hundreds of shows, that comes down to a lot of people. It’s for public consumption, something to be shared with as with everyone who works with him, a team effort. It’s something he’s used to, something he’s been doing since he was sixteen years old. It’s second nature at this point, sharing himself with the world. 

But this? With you? This is his. You’re his. He’s never had anyone know him like you do, can’t believe how much more you’ve learned about each other over the past three years, becoming aware of each other’s little habits in a way you hadn’t been privy to before and using this new knowledge to care for each other. It can come down to the tiniest of things sometimes, how when he falls asleep reading - because he’s going to become a reader this year damnit, if only he could stop falling asleep three pages in, book splayed out on his chest - he’ll wake up the next morning to find the book on his bedside table, a bookmark in place of where he left off. 

How he likes to spend his mornings listening to records while he makes his coffee and will come home from a long time away to find new records added to his collection, long sought after legends you likely spent ages digging for. How he made a passing comment when you first moved in to the new flat two and half years ago about how one of his favorite things to do when he’s home is check the mail, that it makes him feel like he’s got a place he belongs, a place that’s his, somewhere he can settle down and now whenever he’s home, you never get the mail, not once, always leaving it for him, sometimes even going so far as to send a postcard from your office to the flat, a little love note, something nice for him to find as he flips through bills. 

He’s never had that before, not in romantic relationships, having typically found himself stuck in the archaic mindset that one person gets the gestures, one person gives them but it’s not like that with you. And he can’t believe how nice it feels to have someone love him like that. To be listened to and cared for like you do for him. You’ve taught him that love is paying attention, and it can be so simple, can be so effortless but it makes him feel like he’s flying, soaring. Knowing with you, he’s always got a soft place to land. And he works hard to do the same for you, to study his favorite subject. There is nothing he loves more than learning something new about you, figuring out a new way he can get you to smile. 

This is something he waited his whole life to experience, something he had given up any hope on actually finding. Resigning himself to settle for good enough, for fine. Not ever daring to think the greatest person he’s ever known was loving him all this time. He physically has to stop himself from picking up the pace, the temptation to start sprinting to Leonardo’s, to get down on his knee as soon as possible far too strong.

It’s all led to this, hasn’t it? This journey the two of you have been on, that started the day his mum dragged six year old him to meet the new neighbors next door. The day his life changed forever. The day he met the greatest friend he has ever had, who became the truest love he’s ever known. The kind of love that feels impossible to capture, too big and all encompassing to be dwindled down into a few words or a simple melody. It’s why he always has to have his hands on you, finding it easier to physically express himself when the words don’t feel like enough to capture all that you are to him, what this love feels like. It feels bigger than him and yet he knows it's his, that it belongs to him. That there’s no one else you look at like this, touch like this, love like this. There’s no one else for you. And there’s no one else for him. How fucking lucky is he?

He looks over at you and it’s almost game over, breath catching in his throat as his eyes sweep over your profile, the soft smile on your face as you look over the familiar buildings. He’s so in awe of you, so, so in love with you that he’s about to start crying in the middle of the street. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with you right here by his side, holding his hand and he’s never felt luckier in his life. You. Magnificent, luminescent, radiant you. 

He’s helpless to do anything but pull you in close, unwinding his hand from yours in favor of framing your face, praying you can’t feel the way his hand is slightly trembling. He barely gives you a second to react before he’s pressing his lips to yours. If you’re surprised, you barely show it, melting into him as you wrap your arms around his waist, his hand on your face clutching you tighter, thumb running along your cheekbone as he kisses you over and over again. He’s still holding the damn picnic basket but can’t be arsed to care, trying his best to communicate his love with every push and pull of his lips, every tease of his tongue against yours. 

He pulls away slowly, pressing kisses along every inch of your face until you laugh and push him away though he doesn’t let you get very far, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, resting his cheek against the top of your head when you hug him back. Your hands slide up his sides, squeezing at his biceps once, seemingly unaware of the goosebumps your touch leaves in its wake before you let go, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Were you holding that picnic basket the whole time just so you could flex?” you ask with a laugh, grin widening when he laughs with you. 

“My girl told me she’s got a thing for my arms. Gotta give the people what they want.”

“Oh my god -” you start to say but he cuts you off, kissing you once, twice, three times in rapid succession, before pulling back to plant a kiss to your cheek. Taking a moment to stare at you, the love of his bloody life. 

“Gonna miss the sunset if you keep looking at me like that.” you say softly. 

“Don’t need any view but the one I’ve got right now.” he says, heart flipping when your smile widens, your eyes crinkling as a blush blooms on your cheeks and he has to bring his hand back up to feel that warmth under his thumb. “You’re so beautiful.”

He watches in delight as you huff a breathless laugh, swaying on your feet slightly as if his words knocked you off balance.You just stare at each other for a moment, both your grins growing as you lean in to kiss him softly, squeezing his arm once before you pull back. 

“Could kiss you forever.” he mumbles against your mouth, and it’s true. But he really, really can’t wait anymore. “But actually I really want to see the sunset.” 

“Yeah, I know you do.” you say with a laugh, pushing him away gently. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, almost there.” he says, trying to ease the shake out of his voice as he takes your hand again, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears as he can see the way your stare lingers on his face, knows you can read him like a book, that whatever you’re seeing in his eyes is giving you pause. But you don’t say anything, squeezing his hand once as you head on down the street. 

“You never answered your own question, you know.” you say, as you turn a corner, Leonardo’s coming into view and he just might scream. 

“What question?” 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” you ask, looking over at him, not yet noticing how different Leonardo’s looks at this hour, that it is completely closed,  though it’s still a bit far away so there’s still time for you to notice. But if you don’t, it is possible that he has successfully pulled off a surprise for the first time in his entire life. Okay. focus, Harry. Focus. 

“I think it’s like y’ said,” he says, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, if only to hide how sweaty his palm has become. Trying his best to sound as normal as possible though his stomach is flipping with every step you take. “I can’t remember the exact day, I don’t think, though I have, like, a sense of that first day? Like standing on your step with Mum ‘nd Gem, ‘nd like, flicking Gemma’s ear.” 

“Nice to know both of our first memories of each other are about Gemma.” you say with a laugh and he squeezes you a bit tighter as you get closer and closer to the destination. 

“Think my first proper memory of you is when we were, like, 8. In my backyard. Trying to send telepathic messages to each other. Which we were absolute shit at.”

“Heeey, I thought we were quite good at it then. Especially in school and stuff. We only fucked up when we tried to communicate with your old cat.”

“Oh yeah, Petey. Legend.” 

“Legend.” you agree with a laugh, “I reckon we’re a lot better at it now, though. Like I can always tell when you really want to leave a party or when you’re on stage and -”

You cut yourself off, slowing to a stop right in front of Leonardo’s. He watches as your brow furrows in confusion as you take in the shuttered windows, the lack of lights and activity. You take a step forward, out of his hold as your eyes search the front of the trattoria, searching for answers that won’t come. He can’t breathe, is the thing. His mind on a constant loop of “this is it, this is it, this is it.”

“Wait, what? They’re closed? On a Sunday? Are they alright? Do you think something’s wrong?”

“I’m sure they’re alright. But we can check it out if you want.” he says, and he feels like he’s a dam on the verge of breaking, clenching his fist once before releasing it, taking a deep breath as he reaches into his pocket. “They gave me the keys.”

“They gave you the keys?!” you ask incredulously. “Why would they -” 

You turn to face him, mouth snapping shut the moment you lock eyes with him and he knows, in an instant, that his poker face has been absolutely shot to shit. He can see the understanding bloom in your eyes, a wave of emotion passing over your face as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You did say you could read his mind. 

“H, why did they give you the keys?” you ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“Needed someplace to store the flash mob.” he says, warmth blooming in his chest when you huff a watery laugh. He reaches out to pull your hand down from your face, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before pulling you closer. “Do y’ want to go inside?”

You take a deep breath, biting down on a grin as you nod. He smiles back at you, squeezing your hand as he leads you both to the door, trying to use the keys on the door but his hands are shaking too bad, he tries to bring up the other hand to help but the picnic basket gets in the way, muttering a curse as he tries again. 

“Here, let me -” 

“Yeah, could you -” he starts to say, but you’re already reaching for the picnic basket, taking it out of his hands, always anticipating what he needs before he can vocalize it, always there to ease his burdens. Is he being too dramatic about a picnic basket? Yes. But he can’t help it, emotion flowing through him like a tidal wave, in disbelief that what he’s been working towards for a whole year is on the other side of this door. 

He grabs the doorknob with his newly freed hand, keeping it steady as he works the lock with the other and this time it swings open to reveal the restaurant, completely shrouded in darkness. He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, living for the slightly confused expression on your face as he follows in behind you. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” you deadpan and he honks out a laugh, closing the door behind him and locking it as he feels the last of his nerves shake free, comforted by the fact that while he’s about to walk into the moment he’s been waiting his whole life for, the two of you are still you. Still giving each other shit.  And why should he be nervous when he’s about to get the opportunity to tell you how much he loves you? And wants to spend the rest of his life with you? God, he’s so, so lucky. 

“Taking the piss at a moment like this. Should’ve known.” he says, shaking his head as you grin over at him. 

“So should I be expecting the dancers now or …”

“Give a lad a moment, jesus.” he says, grinning when you laugh. He reaches over and takes the basket from your hands, placing it on the nearest chair. “Can y’ close your eyes for me?”

You take a deep breath, nodding and shut your eyes. He quickly pulls the bags off his shoulder, placing them next to the basket and reaching into the depths of his bag to pull out the small square box and slide it into his pocket, squeezing once. He grabs his camera out of the bag and swings the strap over his shoulder before shuffling up behind you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he covers your eyes with his hand. 

“H, my eyes are already closed -”

“Can’t be too careful with you,” he says, laughing when you grumble. “Alright, walk forward for me. I’ll guide ya.” 

He guides you through the restaurant, through the kitchen, and onto the back patio where you had dinner that night three years ago and where you’ve had several dinners since. He gently pushes you forward and then pulls you to a stop. 

“Keep ‘em closed,” he says, taking a step back and plugging in the twinkling lights that he hung from the wood paneled roof and the space is suddenly illuminated, looking just as he imagined it, the sun beginning to set in the distance. Fuck yes. He snaps a quick picture of you, completely unaware of your surroundings before placing the camera down on a nearby table. This is it. He looks himself over quickly, running his hands through his hair, adjusting his shirt, reaching into his pocket to quickly squeeze the box once before he takes a deep, deep breath and moves next to you.

“Y’ can open your eyes now, love.” he says, not daring to look away from your face, watching you with rapt attention as you open your eyes. Your eyes widen instantly, tears brimming in your eyes as you squeeze his forearm. 

“Oh, H.” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes sweep the space. It’s been completely transformed - most of the tables have been shoved to the side, except for a semicircle in the middle, leading to a perfect view of the sunset. Every single table is absolutely covered in bouquets of lilies - your favorite flower, asiatic lilies if he’s going to be specific, and he was, calling every florist within a 100 mile radius until he found the perfect ones, blooms of pinks, reds and purples covering every inch of the patio. 

Every inch, except the six tables in the semicircle. Those each hold a different photograph from the two of you over the years, blown up, framed and propped up, encircled with smaller photographs from the same time of your lives. You go to inspect them further, linking your fingers with his as you pull him behind you. 

The first photo is the two of you in his kitchen, age 7, hands absolutely covered in paint from an arts and crafts project you had taken up yourselves. You smile wide as you take it in, taking your time to look at the pictures covering the table, like one from when you were both ten, still in your costumes from the school play, arms slung around each other’s shoulders as you clutch onto the flowers your mums gave you or the one of you during Boxing Day charades when you were twelve. He had spent days in his mum’s house, looking over his and your parents’ piles of photos, desperately eager to find the best ones, the ones that would make you smile like you’re smiling right now. 

You pull him along to the next one and he hears you huff a laugh at the teenage awkwardness in all its glory, the two of you making some questionable fashion choices while on a family vacation in Paris, right before the band’s first single came out. He’s smiling wide at the camera, an arm around your shoulders and you are looking right at him, the braces adorning your teeth adding some extra shine. 

“Stupid in love with you, even then.” you mumble, sniffling as you give his hand another squeeze, eyes poring over the photographs surrounding the biggest picture. There’s a noticeable shift, as school pictures fade into pictures taken backstage at venues or near historic monuments all over the world. A time capsule, watching his life drastically change in every sense right before his eyes. But there’s always you. Right there, by his side. 

The next table has a photo from your 22nd birthday, the two of you practically tackling each other outside your flat, when he absolutely fucked up the surprise, but he hadn’t seen you in ages and was too excited. He stared at that picture for a while when setting up this morning, wondering how he could have possibly missed what he knows to be deeply true now, when he can see the joy and love so clearly written on his younger face.

You turn as you pull him to the right, to the next three tables, all covered with pictures of you both from the last three years. Each table represents a different year of your relationship, there’s one with the photo of when you first moved in together, the self timer picture you took in the middle of the barely set up living room, both of you smiling wide at the camera, giddy despite the exhaustion from the move. There’s the next one with one of his favorite pictures ever, from the vacation you took in the Cayman Islands after his insane year of touring last year, a selfie you took in the pool together and you look like the hottest woman alive. 

He feels you squeeze his fingers to smithereens as you get to the last table, covered in photos he knows you’ve not seen yet, including the big one that knocked the wind out of him when he first saw it. It’s from a few weeks ago, taken by Johnny. You’re at dinner in the backyard with everyone but the two of you are lost in your own world, his arm is wrapped around the back of your chair with his other hand resting on your thigh as you stare into each other’s eyes, laughing at a dumb joke one of you must have told. The love in the photo is palpable, it makes his stomach flip the more he looks at it.

He feels almost shy then, as you look everything over once more. He hasn’t done something like this for anyone… ever. He hasn’t tried to make a gesture this big in ages, certainly not by himself (though Leonardo did insist he and his sons help with the flower unloading, but they left Harry alone to set up the photos.) He wanted a visual of your lives together, everything that led up to now. He’s been working on this since your conversation last summer, scouring over photos in your family homes, going through all the film he has. He wanted it to be perfect for you. Wanted to show his love as best he could. He can feel a blush blooming on his cheeks, desperate to know what you think, hoping it’s not too corny, hoping you can see what he meant.  

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you say softly, voice thick with emotion. 

“Y’ like it? ‘S not too -” he asks and you’re already shaking your head before he can finish the question. 

“No it’s perfect, it’s…” you say, looking around at the tables, all the photographs, all the years of memories the two of you share. “It’s crazy to see it like this, all of our years together. It’s…”

You bring your hand to your forehead, shaking your head in disbelief, words seemingly failing as you look around at everything. He squeezes your hand, thumb rubbing over the back of it as you take a deep, shaking breath, tears falling from your eyes. 

“Oh, baby…” he says softly, pulling you in by the hand as he brings his other up to frame your face, thumb wiping away the tears that fall.

“I’m good, this is all good, it’s better than good. I’m just …overwhelmed.” you say, with a watery smile as you look back at him. “Just like all this history…and the flowers and the photos, like this must have taken ages. The thought of you looking through everything is killing me.”

“Been searching for the best photos for the past year,” he says softly, hand not leaving your face. “Our parents helped with the childhood photos but a lot of the other ones come from my film.”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me that,” you groan, quickly squeezing your eyes shut. “I already look a mess enough as it is.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he says softly and you blink your eyes back open at that, leaning into the gentle caress of his hand. “Got something I’d like to say to you, if that’s okay.”

He watches as you take a deep, shaky breath, your face lighting up as you look back at him with such love in your eyes, he may faint. 

“Yeah, that’s okay.” you say back just as softly. “Do you need me to like, let go?”

“No, y’ can stay right where you are. Actually hang on.” he says, walking you backwards so the two of you are perfectly in line with the sunset, the sky a perfect pink. He stares at you for a moment, can already feel the tears brimming in his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

When he looks at you, it’s like he can see all versions of you at once. The versions of you that surround the two of you where you stand. His new neighbor that became his favorite person to play in the backyard with when he was six, the girl he wanted to kiss more than anyone when he was thirteen, his best friend who answered his phone call no matter the time or place when he was nineteen, the woman who stopped him from making what would’ve been the biggest mistake of his life, his girlfriend who makes him laugh more than anything in the world and loves him more than he’s ever been loved. The first face he seeks out in a crowd, the first voice he longs to hear when he’s been away, his love, his life, the love of his life. The woman who is going to be his wife. 

He didn’t realize the tears started to fall from his eyes as well until he feels your hand, gently  cradling the side of his face, brushing his tears away. He huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to your palm before taking your hand in his, holding both of your hands with both of his. It’s reminiscent of what you’ll be doing in the future, at a ceremony somewhere and you both seem to be struck with that thought at the same time, squeezing each other’s hands as your grins widen. He’s got to do this now. He’s got to. He’s got to. He clears his throat, takes a deep breath. 

“I never said thank you, you know.” he begins, “Not properly. For being brave enough to tell me how you felt on the courtyard that night. For wanting better for yourself and for me. Y’ always…always want better for me. I don’t think I’d have ever had the courage to go against what was being expected of me or the situation I put myself in. And I can’t think about that too much, what my life would look like if you hadn’t done that. What a life without you, without this would look like. Because this is everything to me. You’re everything to me. And I’m grateful every single day that you told me how you felt when you did.” 

Emotion clogs his throat and he has to pause, shaking his head slightly as he takes a deep breath, knowing you’re not better off, biting down on a smile as tears fill your eyes, taking your own shaky breath, sliding your thumbs along the back of his hands, the move comforting him more than you know. 

“I never knew love could feel like this.” he continues, his voice shakier than before. “I didn’t have many examples of it growing up in my own family, not of this type of love. Always thought that people exaggerated, that it couldn’t be as good as they’re making it out to seem. But with you…it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I love how you love me, I love the way being with you makes me feel. You’ve been my best friend for my entire life and getting to be in love with you is the greatest gift you’ve ever given me.”

You make a soft sound at that, a small sob escaping you as you try your best to hold it together, the look on your face is going to make him absolutely lose it, as if he hasn’t already. He squeezes your hands, letting go of one to catch the tears that start falling from your eyes.

“Keep going,” you croak out, both of you laughing softly at the absolute state you’ve found yourselves in, matching tear tracks and smiles. He pinches your cheek and you swat away his hand, and he takes it once more in his.  “Please.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles, his vision already swimming again as he takes a deep breath. He can do this. 

“I love your mind and your heart. I love being able to come home to you every single day and waking up next to you every single morning. These last three years getting to love you like this have been the best of my life. I’m the best version of myself when I’m with you. Being loved by you has made me a better friend, a better son, a better partner. The way you pay attention, the way you support me and believe in me has changed my life completely. You make me happier than I ever thought possible. You make me feel alive. You make me feel loved and cared for in a way I’ve never experienced before. And, if y’ let me, all I want to do is spend the rest of my life making you feel the same.” 

“You already do,” you say softly, and he has to bow his head at that, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for this life, this moment, this love. He looks back up to see you looking right back at him, his beacon of light, his home. 

“I wanted to do this here because it was one of the first places that felt like ours.” he says, “This is the first place I ever called you my girlfriend. And I’d like for it to be the last.” 

He gently lets go of your hands, eyes never leaving your face as he sinks down to one knee, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring box. He opens it, living for the way you gasp, hands flying up to your face when you recognize the ring inside. Your Nana’s ring that your mum gave him that weekend in Scotland all those months ago. Updated, slightly. He couldn’t resist a Cartier twist. You’re proper crying now ,all pretenses of holding your composure long abandoned and he knows he’s no better, can feel the tears sneaking their way down his face. It’s just everything to him, knowing this means as much to you as it does to him.

“Baby,” he says, and the smile you give him in response makes his heart skip a beat, feeling like he could fly. “Will you marry me?

“Yes.” you say instantly, 

“Yeah?” he says, grin practically splitting his face as you nod fervently.

“Yes yes yes yes yes.”

You practically lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and almost knocking him backwards. He wraps his arms around your waist, careful not to drop the ring as he pulls you close. You pull back, taking his face in your hands, wiping the tears away with your thumbs. You take a moment to stare at him, your watery gaze matching his as you smile at each other, the look on your face making him feel like he’s on fire. You lean in, kissing him so softly, so carefully, he’s going to start crying harder. It’s messy, both of your faces wet from snot and tears, but neither of you seem to care, pulling each other closer and closer, his hand coming up to squeeze the back of your neck as you mumble against his mouth, a mix of  “yes, please, I love you I love you I love you.” 

He presses kisses to your cheek, temple, the edge of your jaw before looking you in the eyes, both unable to do anything but laugh, feeling overwhelmed with love and joy. 

“Getting snot all over your face.” you say softly, laughing when he does. “Quite gross, sorry.”  

“Don’t care.” he mumbles against your cheek. “Can I give y’ the ring now please?” 

“Please.” you say back, pulling back and sitting back on your heels as he unwinds his arms around you, pulling the ring out of the box before placing it down. 

He takes your hand in his, smiling up at you as he slides it onto your finger, the two of you doing a collective sharp inhale as he does. You both are quiet for a moment, staring at the ring glimmering on your finger, a perfect fit.  

“H. I…this is my Nana’s ring, yeah?”

“Yeah, your mum gave it to me earlier this year. Said your Granddad had wanted you to have it.” he says softly, kissing you on the shoulder when your face crumples slightly, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. 

“He did?”

“He did. He told her to give it to the person that makes her daughter the happiest. That that’s what he and your Nana would want. Ang said she almost gave it to me that first Christmas we came home together. Said that she..uh,” he stops for a second, voice catching on emotion as he remembers the conversation, tears springing back to his eyes. “Said that she had never seen you that happy.”

“Oh Jesus. I’m gonna be crying for a month,” you say, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you’re overwhelmed for a moment. He huffs a gentle laugh beside you, his hand not leaving your arm as you lower your hands to stare at the ring again. “I can’t believe it’s Nana’s ring.” 

“I upgraded it a bit -”

“Yeah, no shit.” you say and he honks out a laugh, breath catching when you look at him, eyes aglow with affection. “It’s stunning.”

“Yeah? Y’ like it?”

“I love it. More than I can say.” you say, softly smiling at him. “I love you.”

You lean in to kiss him, resting your hand against the back of his neck, only this time he can feel the back of the ring against his skin and he just about loses his mind. He sits back, pulling you onto his lap with his arms around your waist as he kisses you back, having no interest in leaving the ground when he gets to have you this close. 

“You know it’s all the same for me, right?” you say, pulling back abruptly as your eyes search his face. “Everything you said?”

“I know, baby -” he says, already leaning in to kiss you again but you stop him, pressing your fingers against his mouth.

“Hang on, just let me -” you start to say, smiling when he presses a soft kiss to your fingertips covering his mouth, before you bring them down to rest on his jawline, your eyes roaming over his face, lighting up when they lock with his. “You’re my best friend, my favorite person to spend time with. And I can’t quite believe this is real, that we’re now bloody engaged.”

You pause for a moment, blinking back tears as he tightens his arms around you, brushing the back of your knuckles against his face. 

“Forever wouldn’t be enough time with you. You make me so, so happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my life. These last three years your job has brought us to the most beautiful places but - I’m going to be cheesy right now, you just have to let me, - there’s something about getting to come home to the flat and have you there that’s just…there’s nothing like it in the world. I feel so lucky. You make me better. You make me believe in myself more, take more risks, knowing I’ll always have a safe place to land. Nothing has ever felt like this before. Getting to see you grow into the man you are has been like, one of the greatest privileges of my life and now, getting to grow alongside you, build a life with you… dream come true doesn’t do it justice. I am so, so in love with you -”

He closes the distance between you in an instant, choking back tears as he crashes his lips against yours, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head. He feels all out of words at the moment, unable to articulate the way your words have his heart about to beat out of his chest. He never knew it was possible to feel this much about another person, love radiating out of every fiber of his being as he kisses you over and over again.

You press a line of kisses up his face, wrapping your arms around his neck as you whisper into his ear an endless loop of “I love you, I love you, thank you, I love you” and he may just melt. The two of you sit there for a while, holding each other tight. He pulls back, eyes grazing over your face before he leans in again, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you bring your camera out here?” you ask “Should try to capture the moment, yeah? Document the craziest I ever looked?”

He laughs, shaking his head almost instantly. “Y’ don’t look crazy. You’re gorgeous.”

“You only saying that because you just put a ring on my finger?”

“Caught me there.” he says with a smile. “Camera’s over by the door.”

You squeeze his shoulder once before standing up and walking over to grab it. He watches you walk away, the swish of your dress as you walk, the dip of it in the back, the way that ring on your finger now glimmers against the lights. He stands up once you have the camera in hand, watching with a curious smile as you place it on the table, propping it up, getting the angle right before pressing the button on the back for the self-timer, the red light instantly flashing as you hurry back to where he stands in the center of the patio, the flowers and photos surrounding him. 

He holds his arms open for you and you step into his embrace, your back to his chest as you both face the camera. He loops an arm around the front of your chest, hand resting on your shoulder as you bring your left hand up to clasp his forearm, both smiling at the camera as it takes the picture. 

He presses a kiss to your head, squeezing your shoulder once, as he mutters into your hair, “Gonna make you do a selfie.”

Not listening to your half-assed protests as he walks back over to the camera, picking it up and instantly snapping a picture of you standing there, amongst the flowers. His favorite sight. 

You immediately wrap your arms around his waist when he gets close, settling your head in the crook of his neck as he fumbles with the camera.

“C’mon, you gotta hold your hand up. Show off the goods”

In response you smack your hand over his face, completely covering it,  laughing when he glares at you through the spaces in your fingers. He clicks the shutter, unable to stop his smile when you honk out a laugh. 

“Cheers for that, darling. Just how I wanted to capture the moment.”

“I’ll be framing that one, me.” you say with a laugh, trying in vain to dodge his hand trying to pinch your side. “Alright do a real one, I’ll be good.”

“Heard that one before,” he says, giggling when you swat at him before you turn back to the camera, holding your hand up with a quirk of your lips and he’s so hopelessly endeared as he presses the button, taking four pictures in rapid succession, knowing you’re about to smack him but you surprise him by just tightening your arms around his waist before you turn to face him, your hand coming up to tilt his face towards yours. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, one that almost sweeps him right off his feet. His hand falters on the trigger, feeling a little lost in your lips before he snaps a photo quickly, heart flipping when you laugh against his mouth. 

“Take another one,” you mumble against his lips before leaning in to kiss him again and he all but forgets the camera in his hand as he wraps his arms around your waist,  both of you smiling too wide to get a proper kiss in, but you can’t be arsed to care. He pulls back, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin when you hum contentedly. 

“Got the shot?” you ask and he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before pulling back, smiling at you the way you’re smiling at him.  

“Got something else, too,” he says.

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

“Heard a rumor that Isabella may have left a treat for us in the kitchen.” he says, watching in glee as your mouth opens in shock. “Something about a tiramisu -”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Should be a nice bottle of bubbly in there somewhere, too.”

“Why are we still out here?!” you say, pulling the camera out of his hands and placing it on the nearest table before grabbing his hand as you beeline back inside towards the kitchen. 

It’s a struggle to get the lights sorted inside, resulting in him absolutely slamming into a table, your bark of laughter echoing in the empty space. He figures it out eventually, hindering your mission towards the fridge with a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and pressing you against the wall to steal a few more kisses, completely ignoring your warning that you’re “breaking about 100 health codes right now,” laughing when you roll your eyes at his offer to break about a hundred more. 

He eventually lets you go, leaning over to open the fridge, a wave of emotion flowing through him when he sees the dessert, “Tanta felicita!” written across the top in Isabella’s handwriting, a bottle of Dom right next to it. Just feeling very lucky that he has people in his life that dropped everything to help him with this, who believed in your love from day one, people who looked out for him when he was younger and would still do anything for him, despite him being on much steadier feet now. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” you say as you peer over his shoulder. He laughs, smacking a kiss to your head as you grab a pair of forks and glasses while he handles the food and drink. You head back outside, moving some bouquets out of your way before sitting down at a table, pulling your chairs right next to each other as he rests his arm around the back of your chair. He lets you do the honors with the champs, both of you cheering as the cork flies off, toasting when you get your glasses filled. You let him get all of two bites in before you’re demanding he tell you every detail of how he pulled this off. 

He tells you all about how he first got the idea when he was at his Mum’s house last year and came across a picture of the two of you that he had never seen before and started to wonder what a time capsule of your lives together would look like. How he had begun working on it in private for a few months before telling his mum, how he asked your parents when you were all staying together in Scotland. Your eyes widen in disbelief that that all happened without you having a clue, though maybe you should have been paying more attention because your dad was “so, so weepy that weekend.” 

He tells you how when he told Archie his plans, he had cried, though he swore to deny it if you ever asked him about it, telling Harry he’s been like a big brother to him all his life. How he had brought him, Gemma, Johnny and Roxy with him to Cartier, trusting his instincts but wanting input from the people that knew you best. How all your friends begged him to propose while they were here a few weeks ago, but he knew it was meant for just the two of you. How Leonardo and Isabella leapt at the opportunity to help, how Isabella was tempted to hide in the kitchen to cook you a full seven course meal but begrudgingly agreed to settle for a tiramisu. How he had done this whole operation by himself, no assistance from a single member of his team, determined to prove he was capable and worthy of your yes all by himself. 

How he almost threw it all away when he got the finished ring in early July, running on fumes from the end of tour, the greatest year of his life, desperate to get down on one knee as soon as possible. How he couldn’t look at you for too long without getting emotional,  knowing what the end of summer was leading up to, tripping over his tongue to tell you how much he loves you no matter where you were, sometimes looking over at you in the cleaning supplies aisle of the grocery store and being unable to breathe for a second, in disbelief that he was going to get to spend the rest of his life with you.

He usually hates to talk this much, but finds he never minds it when you’re the audience, a soft smile on your face as you listen with rapt attention, reacting at all the right parts, just the way he imagined you would. You’re in tears again by the end, insisting they’re good, that you’re just feeling happier than you’ve ever felt and your body just has no idea how to respond.

“I’ve turned into a bloody fountain,” you say, huffing a laugh as you wipe your eyes. “You know you can’t tell me anything about Archie being nice, I instantly lose it.”

He laughs, moving his arm from the back of your chair to your shoulders, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head. You lean into his hold, resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes scan the space, a soft smile on your face. It’s a while before either of you speak, taking your time to relish the moment, both your eyes catching on that ring every so often. Happy to take time to just hold each other close, surrounded by the flowers and years of memories. It’s gotten cooler since the sun went down an hour or so ago and he can feel the shiver in your spine as the breeze passes through. 

“Y’ cold?”

“No, I’m fine.” you say, though the way you burrow your head into his chest may give you away. 

“Got a sweater in my bag -” he says, already on his way to get up and grab it for you but you pull him back down with laugh. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, as your eyes graze over his face, your lips quirking up into that smile that’s just for him. “Wanted to say thank you. It’s been the perfect day.”

“Y’ happy, yeah?” he asks, living for the way your smile grows as you nod. 

“Best day of my life.” you say with such sincerity it makes his breath catch, saying a silent vow to himself that he will do all he can to have a hand in every best day of your life for the rest of it. “Could stay here forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, already leaning in to kiss him, pressing your lips to his once, twice, three times before you pull away. “But -”

“You’re cold.”

You simply shake your head and he can see something shift behind your eyes and - oh. He clears his throat, heat simmering in his veins. You slide your hand up to rest at the back of his neck, fingers softly moving through the curls, he’s helpless to do anything but lean into the touch.

“Kinda feel like if I don’t get my hands on you soon, I’m gonna lose my mind,” you say.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Could do stuff here but I’d really rather be able to look Isabella and Leonardo in the eye next time I see them,” you say and he laughs, the laughter fading into a sigh when your lips find his neck, the hand not in his hair sliding up his thigh. 

You press a soft kiss right behind his ear, squeezing his thigh once before whispering right into his ear, “Do you want to take your fiancée home?”

He captures your lips in an instant, groaning when the hand in his hair tightens as you kiss. There’s fire, heat. It’s different from the countless kisses you shared today. There’s intent behind it and you both realize it at the same time, shivers going down your spines as you pull each other closer, his hand coming up to frame your jaw as he takes over the kiss. 

He kisses you until he can’t breathe, only pulling back when his lungs feel like they’re about to burst. Panting against your mouth as you’re no better off, trying to catch your breath as you run your fingers through his hair. 

“C’mon baby,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away, “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t remember much of the walk home. He knows the basics - knows he turned off all the lights, locked up the doors with a vow to come back to clean everything up early tomorrow, thanking his lucky stars that the restaurant is closed on Mondays. He knows that he packed up the remaining dessert and champs and his camera, that you grabbed the loose photographs and one of the vases of lilies, that he made you wear his sweater for the walk home. But everything else fades away. Nothing else matters except here and now, where he’s pressing you against the hallway wall, too eager to get his mouth on yours to make it all the way to the bedroom. 

He feels your hand squeeze at his shoulder before sliding down his chest, scratching along his pecs as you make your way down his abs, fingers digging into the grooves. You don’t stop kissing him, every swipe of your tongue against his setting his every nerve ending on fire, as you slide your hand lower, fingers sliding under the waistband of his briefs as you wrap your hand around him. He groans into your mouth, kissing you harder as you start to stroke him.

He pulls back, kissing a line up your jaw, moaning every so often when your hand twists just right. 

“Perfect fucking hands,” he grunts out, not letting his lips leave your skin as your hand lets him go, your fingers deftly undoing the button on his trousers, pulling the zipper down before you bring your hand up to your mouth.  When your next touch comes back wet, he has to bite down on your skin before capturing your lips with his as you move your hand up and down his cock. His hands slide down your body, gripping your skin every so often before settling on your arse, squeezing once, breath stuttering against your mouth when you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, just the way he likes it. He’s going to lose his mind. 

“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed.” he grunts out, when the need burning in his veins reaches a boiling point,  kissing you quickly before sliding his hands down your thighs, encouraging you to jump into his arms as your legs wrap around his hips, your arms settling around his neck. “Want to fuck my fiancée in our bed.”

“Say it again,” you gasp out as he starts to walk you both towards the bedroom, your mouth already starting to work down his neck, tongue splaying out on the parts you know are his favorites. He nudges his nose against your jaw until you pull back your head to face his and he kisses you right away.

“Want to fuck my fiancée,” he whispers, kissing you again, hard. “My fiancée. My fiancée. My fiancée.”

A moan punches out of you at that, sliding your hands up into his hair as you kiss him back, not letting his lips leave yours as he crosses the threshold to your bedroom, bending down to lay you back against the bed. He plants his hands on either side of your head as he lets you kiss him into oblivion, your legs tightening around his hips as you grind up against him. 

He pulls back for a moment, catching his breath as his eyes roam your body. Your perfect body, your beautiful face. That look in your eyes making him weak, looking at him with such open want, such need, it makes his hands start to tremble. It’s a lot, to be wanted by you. There’s nothing like it in the world. And god, does he want you. He wants to give you everything. 

He leans back in, slowly brushing his lips along your jaw, tongue darting out to taste the skin of your neck, taking his time as he feels your hands work open the buttons of his shirt, doing your best to push the fabric off his shoulders while he refuses to part from your neck. Your legs fall from his hips as he moves his way down your body, shaking his shirt from his arms as he covers every inch of your exposed skin with his mouth, his lips diligently following the path the deep V your dress makes, living for every sound you make. 

His hands fall to your thighs as he slides down the bed, kissing the skin he exposes as he slowly pushes the fabric of your dress up, taking his time to suck a mark in your inner thigh as he pushes the dress farther and farther up your skin. Your hands meet his on your belly, where he rubs smooth circles as his lips work their way up your thighs before you sit up to pull the dress over your head. 

He’s frozen in place for moment, unable to take his eyes off your body before you nudge him with your foot, huffing out a, “Take your trousers off, you look a bit insane.” He looks down, huffing a sheepish laugh at the state of himself, trousers open with his hard cock poking out of his briefs. He quickly stands up to pull them off, molten lava traveling down his spine as your eyes scan him up and down and he has to give himself a few tugs for relief as you pull your underwear off and lay back down on the bed in all your naked glory. 

He’s crawling back over you, the least graceful he’s ever been by the way you giggle at him. He takes a second to hover over you, nudging his nose against yours, chucking softly. A well of emotion flows through him as he says, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me.”

He watches as you swallow, eyes blinking a few times before you whisper back, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“Easiest decision of my life, baby. I love you I love you I love -” 

You cut him off by leaning up and capturing his lips with yours, though he's still trying to mumble it against your mouth in between kisses. He slides his hand along your arm to interlace his fingers with yours, groaning when he can feel that ring against his skin. Proof that this is real, that you’re his. That you’re going to be his forever. 

He pulls back and smacks a kiss to your jaw before sliding back down the bed once again, needing to be close to you more than he’s ever needed anything in his life. Pressing his lips to your belly, his kisses getting slower and wetter the closer they get to your core. You’re making the prettiest sounds, sounds he finds himself in the studio desperate to translate to a melody, unable to find a combination of notes that comes close to making him feel the way these do. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, squeezing your thighs as he kisses his way up to your core. He looks up at you, the look of bliss on your face, the gleam in your eye and dives in. 

He gets lost in it, in you, his favorite way to make you fall apart. Your hand slides up into his hair and pulls when he sucks your clit into his mouth just right, keeping the rhythm of his tongue just the way you like it. Heat sears through him when he hears you moan, spurring him on to work harder. His tongue lapping over your folds, nudging his nose against your clit as he buries himself in the heat of you. He loves this, loves how wet you get, loves being able to directly feel how much he affects you, every tense of your thigh, every quiver of your core. 

He squeezes your thigh, dragging his hand towards your core and he slides one finger inside your tight, wet heat, the slide slick and easy with how wet you are. He crooks his finger and your back arches, your hand gripping tight in his hair as he groans against you. He works double time, more determined than ever to get you to your high. He slides another finger into, mumbling nonsensical praise against your folds, dragging his tongue up to encircle your clit. A twist of his fingers, a hard suck of his mouth and that’s it. 

You gasp out his name as you come undone, a never ending loop of “Harry, Harry, Harry” falling from your lips as he works you through the orgasm, only pulling back when he feels you tug on his hair. He looks at you, gloriously fucked out you, and lifts his fingers to his mouth, indulging in the taste of you, stomach flipping when you mutter “oh fuck” and shut your eyes, too overwhelmed by the sight. 

You’re reaching for him but he’s already making his way up to you and you kiss him the moment he’s close enough, sliding your hands up and down his back as you lick into his mouth, moaning when he rolls his hips down against yours. He pulls back, pressing a slow line of kisses along your jaw before looking at you, hand slightly trembling as he brushes your hair behind your ear, the look in your eyes making him melt. 

He’s usually talkative during sex, unable to stop an endless stream of praise from falling from his lips but here and now, he feels all out of words. Too overwhelmed by how good it feels to be with you like this. One look at your face tells him you’re right there with him. It always feels good with you but there’s something different happening here, something deeper, the heat between you almost palpable. It feels like making love. He grinds down against you a few more times as his lips map kisses across your face, your hands squeezing at his skin every so often. 

When he locks eyes with you,  you can instantly read his mind, nodding at his unasked question, emotion passing over your eyes as you pull his mouth back to yours. You kiss him deeply, the twist of your tongue making him groan out loud as he reaches down to guide himself into you, both of you moaning instantly when he sinks inside. White hot heat sears through him, everything is warm, wet, perfect. 

He’s never felt like this before, almost choking on his desperation, his need as he drives into you slowly, steadily, resting his forehead against yours to see your every reaction up close. He slides his hand along your thigh and presses it up, the new angle making both of you moan. You squeeze his shoulders, nails digging into his back muscles as you pull him closer to you, not wanting a centimeter of space between you two, the slide of your bodies making him feral, biting down on your neck as need seeps deep into his bones. 

At one point you flip over and he thinks he may die here, feeling useless as you take him apart with each roll of your hips as you ride him, resting your left hand on his chest. He puts his hand over yours, his fingers catching on the ring every so often and making his heart clench in his chest. He brings the other hand up to feel the way your hips circle his, moans being punched out of him as he melts back into the mattress, almost paralyzed by the sight of you, your kiss swollen lips, your breasts bouncing with every twist of your hips, the look in your eyes. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him up to you to kiss him deeply, panting against his mouth as he gently lays you back against the mattress. 

He wraps one arm around your upper back to pull you close, pressing the other against the mattress to drive his hips into yours, hard. He’s kissing you until he can’t, until you’re both too far gone, just moaning against each other’s mouths. He knows you’re close, can feel you squeezing him tighter. He squeezes the back of your neck once before sliding his hand down to rub circles against your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, biting down on his neck as you come, making the prettiest, softest sounds that make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. You’re murmuring praise in his ear, scratching your nails down his back and it’s all but two seconds before he comes, hard. It’s never felt this good. Kissing you as he comes down, can’t stop sliding his tongue over yours as he kisses you with everything he has. Needing you to know, to understand when the words are failing, that you’re everything. That you’re always going to be everything. 

You pull back slowly to let him breathe, gently rubbing circles on his chest as you both pant. He buries his head into your neck and you wrap your arms around him, the two of you holding each other close through the comedown. You’re so close he can feel it when your breath hitches, can feel it when your tears mix with the sweat on his shoulders. He pulls back to look at you, any concern fading instantly when he sees the look of love in your eyes, the smile on your face. 

You shake your head slightly when you lock eyes, in disbelief of what the two of you can create, your smiling growing when he grins as well. He crushes his lips to yours, you slide your hand up into his sweaty hair as he kisses you so thoroughly, chuffed knowing you’re as in awe of this dynamic as he is, that you’re as excited as he is to spend the rest of your lives together. 

“I don’t think I have words for how good that felt,” you say softly when he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sliding out of you. 

“Quite alright with doing it like that for the rest of my life,” he says, feeling warm all the way down to his toes when you honk out a laugh. He quickly hops off the bed and into the ensuite, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with the sink before coming back to you. Where you’re laying completely naked staring at the ring on your finger with the greatest smile on your face. God. 

He crawls back onto the bed, gently pulling your thighs apart as he cleans you up, unceremoniously throwing the washcloth on the floor to make his way back up to you, where you’ve been watching him with a warm smile. 

“I love you so much,” you say, threading your hand into his hair as he settles on top of you, your eyes scanning his face as you scrunch your nose to hold back your emotion. “You’re going to be my husband.”

“You’re going to be my wife,” he says back, his voice cracking at the end as emotion flows through him. “I am so bloody in love with you.”

“Me too,” you say sincerely, staring into his eyes, the corners of your lip twitching up. “I’m also in love with me.”

He honks out a laugh shaking his head as you giggle, clearly proud of your own joke. 

“Such a little shit,” he says, pinching your side as he rolls over, carrying you with him, settling against the mattress with you on top of him. “Should’ve known that was coming.”

You look at him for a few moments, running your hands through his hair, smile deepening when he leans into the touch. 

“I’m really bloody in love with you, too.” you say softly and it feels like his heart grows five inches. He knew, he’s never questioned it with you, not once. That doesn’t stop the butterflies from swirling in his belly when he hears you say it out loud.

You lean in at the same time, kissing each other so tenderly, goosebumps erupting on his skin when you sigh into his mouth. You both pull back slowly, grinning at each other so wide that you start giggling like school kids, feeling so giddy, so grateful for this love, you’re overflowing with joy. It’s so nice that it always comes back to this, just two best friends making each other laugh. 

But there’s something different, he thinks, as you whisper something about the leftover tiramisu and champagne and not saving any for him as you bound out of bed, grabbing one of his t-shirts from his drawer before taking off down the hall. He hastens after you, those morning sprints coming in handy as he catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you shriek, your cackles echoing through the house. 

It’s the same but it’s different, it’s stronger, it’s deeper, it’s a love he never thought himself capable of feeling. It’s like how he felt standing outside your hotel room that night all those years ago, feeling like he was about to jump off a cliff, but somehow knowing he had a safe place to landAs he carries you into kitchen, laughing against your neck as you try to break his hold, the ring on your finger shining in the light, he thinks about how this has grown, how it’s turned into something he never thought possible. How even today feels like the start of something different. 

It feels like something new.

---

a/n: oooooooomg. wow. can you actually believe it. i in fact cannot. its been a year & 2 days since i posted the first part of this story, meant as a one off to see how my writing skills would fare. i cant BELIEVE how many of you have read this and loved it, it has meant more than you could ever know. thank you for sticking with me, for encouraging me, for supporting any little blurb i pu tout. writing this story was a real lifeline for me this year and i cant tell u enough how much your support of it has meant. this is the final part. knowing me, never say never. but. i think this is a really nice way to end it. pls let me know what you think!! thank you so, so much for reading.

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (7) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n switch out one shitty ex for a slightly less shitty one

masterlist | last part | part 7 | next part

ARTICLE

Revisiting 'Twelve More Days' : How Empty Bottles Spun Their Signature Sound on its Head on Tour April 12, 2024 · Written by Catherine Moore

Almost halfway through the Asian leg of their world tour, it's finally time to talk about what the pandemic-era rock band Empty Bottles has been up to. For greener artists, it's the cookie-cutter way to stick to a genre that has previously worked and give the masses what they want but instead, Empty Bottles have taken their 2022 sophomore sensation 'Twelve More Days' and tweaked the songs for their world tour.

Long-time fans of the Sydney-born band are familiar with the classic rock elements that brought Empty Bottles into the spotlight; claiming influence from fellow Sydneysiders 5 Seconds of Summer, Arctic Monkeys and other croony rock artists, so it was a rather big surprise for critics and fans alike when the album opened with a much softer, hypnotising approach.

The even bigger surprise was the creative and musical approach they took with their tour. As noted by various critics back during the album release, 'Twelve More Days' had a not-so-subtle jazz flavour to their sound, and the band seems to have embraced the jazz-rock sound by opening their tour with a speakeasy-style set, complete with the band decked out in snazzy 1930s reminiscent suits and frontwoman Selina Bui in glittery minidresses, opera gloves and a thematic vintage ribbon microphone.

Despite close to three years since she last performed in front of a live audience, Bui took to the stage like a fish to water, instantly entrancing her audience with her universally acknowledged rich sirenic vocals, drawing in the attention and sending the venue back to a 1930s speakeasy. Strangely, she performs this part of the show without her trusty guitar, leaving the grunt work on the other lead guitarist, talented Lukas Zhang, who delivers without a hiccup with no twin guitar to help cover any mistakes.

Quite a few of the sophomore album's songs are given a jazz-rock twist that nobody could have predicted. Other already jazz-influenced songs - namely deluxe track number 13 'money talks' and track 6 'typo' - have been breathed to life, as well as a couple of songs from the band's debut album 'overtime'.

Empty Bottles then returns after a brief intermission with their award-winning pop-rock sound, spending the rest of the set in much more familiar-looking leather jackets and t-shirts and a guitar returned to Bui's hand. Bui, very well known for having an interesting sense of humour, made the choice of returning to the stage with the fitting song choice of 'do you remember me?'. One thing you have to give the 22-year-old is that she really does know how to pick her moments, and the now-iconic first chords of the cocky, energetic track are enough to send the crowd screaming.

The exploration into the many subgenres of what is considered rock 'n' roll has always been a very fuzzy point of conversation, and it's been an honour seeing Empty Bottles have fun playing jump rope over that line. What makes this tour such a raving success is their perfect balance of experimentation and keeping to what is tried and true for them; the classic, hard-hitting, no-nonsense, inane-lyricism rock coupled magnetically with Bui's captivating execution on stage.

Would you find me at one of their shows again? Absolutely, there was truly nothing more thrilling than the first moments you see Selina Bui walk onto stage with her infamous cheshire cat smile. What did I personally think about the sound change? I was pleasantly surprised at how seamlessly they've adjusted the songs to fit the jazz-rock genre, I also believe that they have found the perfect sound to complement Selina Bui's voice. It's uncanny how it just clicked that she was born to sing the soft, almost lullaby-like, calming songs. If they were to release another album with a similar soft sound, I would happily eat it up.

Empty Bottles wrap up the Asian leg of the tour in Bangkok, Thailand later this month and then shortly begin the European leg in Sofia, Bulgaria.

INSTAGRAM

cameliazzz

liked by aidan_ebass and 122,394 others

cameliazzz life lately 🐾 tagged: selinabui

aidan_ebass Yes ma'am 🫡 ↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass i'm dying u are such an old man ↳ lukaszhang @ selinabui he's like barely a year older than you??

cami.png the hottest drummer ever 💜💜💜

conangray a little commotion for the drummer pls and thank you ↳ cameliazzz @ conangray stop i'm blushing 🙈

TWITTER

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 4h i mean we can all thank tommy for one thing and that's for twelve more days lmao ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 3h i forget that not all empty bottles fans have read this article but i think they all should: Why 'Twelve More Days' isn't a Break-Up Album, it's a Healing One

emme @flowersforcami · 1h yes twelve more days is full of t*mmy slander BUT remember that all the band members have writing credits and they ALL helped write songs so basically what i'm trying to say is that twelve more days is actually the rest of the band roasting the shit out of lina's ex ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 1h every one of those bitches rocked up to the studio and went for blood. that is a universally hated man in their group chat.

amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h it's been 3 years, i think it's time to admit that keeping tabs is absolutely not about thomas fucking howard ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 2h i don't care how delusional u are, where in those 3 minutes 54 seconds did you hear a single line that sounds like anything like that sorry excuse of a man??? now a certain japanese-american singer who is exceptionally hot playing the guitar on the other hand... ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 2h yes i agree it's not about t*mmy but it's also not about CHRISTOPHER like WTF R U ON???

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 32m we're in an oscalina drought and it's plain to see not all of us are coping well

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by chrisyamada, oscarpiastri and 279,384 others

selinabui now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh is it that sweet? i guess so

amelia_belrose pop!lina perhaps 🫣

oscarpiastri Didn't need to call me out like that ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri don't tell me u miss me already

sabrinacarpenter she's working late coz she's a singer

lukaszhang woman you hate coffee what are you on ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang why are u even here

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 2h 🚨| Chris spotted at the Empty Bottles 'Twelve More Days' Tour in Seoul Night 2

Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 32m 🚨| CHRIS ONSTAGE WITH EMPTY BOTTLES!!!

↳ Yamada Updates @chrisyamadanews · 30m this made me break ok, i am so fucking thrown off. WDYM WE GOT SELINA BUI AND CHRISTOPHER YAMADA ON STAGE TOGETHER IN THE YEAR 2024???

mabel @ maplemabel32 · 25m i can't breathe chris and lina??? chris and lina???????? after so long??? CHRISTOPHER AND SELINA???? as in "hello it's chris" "and lina"??? MY BESTIES REUNITED???

june @linafesting · 18m sometimes, i'm convinced lina spins a wheel on how to break the internet today

↳ kat ୨୧ @yamayaps · 2m with all due respect, this stunt was NAUT selina's idea, this was a move that christopher 'no boundaries' yamada suggested

INSTAGRAM

emptybottles_official Olympic Gymnastics Arena

liked by chrisyamada and 334,294 others

emptybottles_official Nowhere as incredible as Seoul! Always special to have @chrisyamada join us on stage. tagged: chrisyamada

chrisyamada someone better return the favor later 👀 ↳ selinabui @chrisyamada u begged me to let u come what are u on ↳ chrisyamada @ selinabui ok maybe i did

pi4str1 ok someone catch me up bc i did not know chris and lina were friends??? ↳ linasgirl4 @pi4str1 it's probably best we don't get into it

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Trevor Zegras (Part Twenty-Six)

SERIES MASTERLIST

previous: twenty-five

welcome to the final game day post of the season! thank you all for loving this series so much that it has developed into what it is now! i’ve got many surprises in store for the summer, and i can’t wait to share them! first surprise coming soon ;)

THURSDAY, APRIL 13TH

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 11,194 others

yourusername welcome to my final 2022-23 season penalty box update show (cue the sad awes)! buckle up and hold onto your butts and iced coffees buttercups because you are in for a WILD ride!

let’s start off with the highlights before i get into my boyfriend’s extra curricular activities for those who missed this beautiful monstrosity of a game! to start off this freeway faceoff rivalry, dad scored the opening goal goal 2:44 minutes in! so my dad of him! but alas, before the period ended a k*ng scored. there were three penalties this period: jonesy for cross checking, a k*ng for interfering with lundy, and a delay of game bench minor served by stromer. it was a very nice attempt to clear the goal, but alas, stromer was sent to pay for dallas’s crime.

second period was fairly mild, but almost halfway through, z-baby got his first penalty of the night (yes, you read that correctly) for hi-sticking! the spelling of this penalty cracks me up because it’s like “hi!! here’s my stick!! in your face!! as a gift!!” then mr. drew helleson got his first nhl penalty for hooking! congratulations! and lastly, a k*ng was sent to jail for attempted murder against dad. good riddance! love you, dad!

special note, here is what the commentators said sbout z’s first penalty: “i know trevor zegras is real good friends with jack hughes but he needs to take a page out of that book” (this is in reference to jack only have six minutes this season, and trevor after this penalty had 77. it has since increased.)

third period is when this gets wild, laid-eez! we started off strong with stromer getting a tripping penalty 4:40 in. THEN, z-baby was sent to the bin with seven seconds left in stromer’s penalty to serve the too many men bench minor, which was hilarious imo. as soon as stromer’s penalty ended, he hit the puck over the glass, and had to turn his ass around right back into the box for a delay of game penalty and this was the funniest thing i’ve ever witnessed. at 15:25, the chaos ensued. trevor was wrongly abused and he retaliated, causing a big ol scrum in front of the bench. the k*ng that committed the hate crime got a double minor for roughing against z, and grant got a roughing minor for roughing against said k*ng, as well as my cute lil psycho boyfriend. my said boyfriend ran his mouth a lil too much and received a misconduct that got him ejected from the game. NOT EVEN A MINUTE LATER, multiple fights broke out at once where “everybody chose a dance partner” (thank you commentators for that lovely quotes) which got jonesy and carrick both ejected with misconducts, and nesty had to serve carrick’s boarding penalty that started it all. i was THRILLED and having the time of my life to say the least!

to end, i would like to address that z and i have a long talk in the locker room, and i have received explicit permission from all guilty parties to post this. i also want to say how proud i am of this team for pushing through, and i’m sorry that you didn’t get the end you all wanted. i love each and every one of you!

and to my lovely z, congratulations on your 23rd goal tonight. congratulations on all other accomplishments this season and beating your previous career highs! i’ve seen you do some beautiful, mind blowing, magical things this season, and i know you’re only going to get better from here. i can’t wait to spend the summer with you🧡 i love you, always, trevor <3

tagged trevorzegras

view all 146 comments

trevorzegras thank you for everything you did for me tonight, my sweet girl🧡 i love you, forever!

jamie.drysdale was she nice first or angry first?

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale luke doesn’t call her scary sissy behind her back for nothing

yourusername i’m not gonna argue with that

trevorzegras @/yourusername i called luke out and you’re going to say nothing?

yourusername @/trevorzegras he scored his first goal tonight!

trevorzegras @/yourusername I SCORED A GOAL TONIGHT

yourusername @/trevorzegras AND THEN YOU SCORED A MISCONDUCT

jamie.drysdale i feel so safe in my home

user38 y/n is right, this game was a beautiful monstrosity

tterry19 love you, too! thanks for sticking by us!

yourusername i always will <3

user6 look at trevor holding his coffee i love that little shit lmao

jamie.drysdale (beware i’m about to be sappy) i just want to say thank you for staying with me during my injury and supporting not only z, but me, too, in the few games i played. we’ve gotten so much closer this year and i’m really glad we did, wifey! can’t wait for you to switch between mine and z’s jerseys at games next season! i love you! (p.s. thanks for letting my play guitar in the house!)

yourusername jamie drysdale i will come into your room and sob into your chest the second we get home istg

jackhughes @/yourusername are you not with him right now?

yourusername @/jackhughes i’m in the bathroom

trevorzegras @/yourusername get off your phone i want to go home

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras why? just why? she’ll never leave the bathroom now

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes @/yourusername sissy, i’ll throw away your blanket you have here if you don’t leave because if i get one more text from trevor i’ll fly down there and smother him myself

yourusername F I N E

user16 z and stormer in the box together post stromer going back in is so funny

frank_vatrano you’ve been great to have around as a cheerleader this season! love you lots, y/n/n!

yourusername awww tank! i love you tooooo

anaheimducks we love our wags!

yourusername and we love you!

user49 derek grant is my hero because he got a roughing penalty and sat back and relaxed 😂

yourusername just a king doing king shit (he semi tried to comfort my boyfriend)

_quinnhughes sissy, be honest, how many individual feelings are you feeling right now?

trevorzegras y/n is unavailable right now. she’s under my shirt.

jamie.drysdale we saw her laugh, cry, and thank the hockey gods in a span of two minutes before she got under it but we’ll tell her you asked

yourusername at least twelve emotions and four of them are partly your fault, quintin. thank you, i’m obsessed with you, and i love you <3

_quinnhughes @/yourusername i love you, too! now go to bed <3

colecaufield i cannot share my thoughts at the risk of breaking z’s heart and trust

trevorzegras you’re so good to me

yourusername text me your thoughts

colecaufield kk

trevorzegras update: cole is not that good to me

user77 if this game didn’t perfectly sum up this season idk what would

shattdeuces i love you, daughter! you’ve been a delight to have around these last couple of years! can’t wait to see what chaos you create next season!

yourusername oohhhhh i got big prank ideas, mom! and i love you, too!

user22 can’t wait for the hot z edits

masonmctavish23 thanks for making my rookie year special! you’re one of the most welcoming people i’ve ever met!

yourusername everyone is a sap in my comments tonight aw! i love you mac-t!

masonmctavish23 i love you, too

jackhughes you’re telling me you threatened no one to comment nice things? people just are?

yourusername this team worships me idk what to tell you

trevorzegras she is a fan favorite

jackhughes i am absolutely perplexed

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes stop using big boy words its scary

yourusername @_quinnhughes it’s***

lhughes_06 college dropout alert

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 says the one who dropped out a week ago

trevorzegras since there’s been so much love in the comments tonight, i just want to publicly announce that i have the best and most supportive girlfriend in the world who went out of her way to ensure she supported all of her friends in family in their big moments, and their worst. everyone deserves a y/n, but i, along with the few lucky others, get the best one🧡

jamie.drysdale psa: y/n cannot respond as she’s under my shirt now

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes come quick

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras booking a flight

[fictional-babes-inc]

Take Out & Teasing | EA69 & LN4 (ft. EJ21 & MV1)

Summary: Lando trying to take care of his pregnant wife and plan dinner with his in Laws turns into a teasing session for Max.

Author’s Note: Hi there! This is a lil snippet from my F1 DR that my best friend ( @shellybee456 ) and I wrote about our OC’s after they get married. Both girls are racers in the grid and are sisters.

~Elena Camille Jimenez~

Elena is Emilie’s older sister,she has been racing since 2018 with Mercedes, took a break from 23-25 to be Emilie’s Race engineer for Redbull then joins Ferrari in 2026. Elena was born Feb. 7th, 1997, she is the same age as Max and Charles and raced in karting with them. She is Spanish and Monegasque.

~Emilié Rosalie Auclair~

Emilie is Elena’s younger sister, she started racing in 2022 with Redbull taking over Checo’s seat. She races with them until 2025 then races with Andretti in 2026. She wins the 24, 25, and 26 WDCs. She takes a break in 2027 when she gets pregnant with Lando. Emilie was born on Sept. 3rd, 1999. Emilie is just Monegasque because the girls have different dads.

—————————————————————————————————————

April 2027

Melbourne, Australia

"Émmie?" Lando called out as he entered their hotel room, only to be answered with silence.

A bit surprising considering Gearbox usually greeted him at the door irregardless of what Émilie was doing.

A quick search found Émilie curled up in on the couch fast asleep, Gearbox only lifting her head to receive a few head scratches.

The days of constant travel and lack of caffeine had finally taken its toll, leaving her utterly exhausted, enough so that she'd finally admitted defeat that morning and stayed at the hotel to nap, letting him go to the track and media day by himself for the first time since the season had started.

Clearly, Gearbox had picked up on it too if the Australian shepherd hadn't even gotten up to greet him.

He watched her for a few moments, unable to stop the way that a small smile crept across his face. Émilie was always pretty, but she looked truly beautiful asleep like this, features relaxed and the evening sun casting her in a golden hue.

She was wearing one of his McLaren hoodies, her hair tied up in a now loose bun with the blanket pulled up to her shoulder.

Lando moved closer and knelt down, placing a light kiss on her hair.

She made a little noise and burrowed further into the bedding, hiding from the cool air of the room.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he rose to his feet, Gearbox hopping off the couch, following him into the bedroom to change out of his team kit and into comfier lounge clothes.

While in the bedroom he texted Elena and Max, letting them know that Émilie was sleeping and that he'd ask about dinner later. Gearbox rested her chin on his knee.

It was silly really, but sometimes he couldn't believe he was in a relationship with Émilie. Like a genuinely real one, not the stupid friends-with-benefits-ignoring-their-feelings thing they had going for so many years. Not just that, but they were actually married. And Émilie was pregnant with their baby, a little girl.

It made him giddy still, just thinking about it. They'd have a baby by summer break and less then 2 years ago they weren't even talking to each other anymore.

He checked on her again once he'd changed, still finding her asleep.

Lando hummed to himself and moved into the small kitchenette, picking an apple and peanut butter from the counter with the intention to cut it up and eat it. Once she awoke he'd ask about dinner.

Halfway through he considered the fact that she probably hadn't eaten in a while, so he grabbed another apple to cut up for her.

Halfway through the second apple(the first still wasn't finished) he cut his finger, which meant a trip back to their room to dig through Émilie's bag to find her first aid kit for a plaster.

Once he'd cleaned and covered his cut, Lando returned to the kitchenette and cleaned up the blood before returning to his task of preparing a snack for them.

While he continued his task, arms wrapped themselves around his torso and a weight was rested between his shoulder blades.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning, "Hi princess." He was rewarded with a noise more like a bear then his wife.

Continuing his task, Lando finished cutting up the apples, shuffling a bit in her arms to grab two bowls, placing the apple slices and a spoonful of peanut butter in separate bowls.

Once everything was finished, he turned in Émilie's arms, cradling her face in his hands to give her a soft kiss before grinning at her.

"Hi."

"Why do you have a plaster on?" Emilie yawns out cutely when she notices it on the Brit’s finger.

He grimaced and showed her his finger, which made her wrinkle her nose. "I promise i didn't get anything on the apples, plus i cleaned the knife before continuing."

She sighs and tucks her head under his chin. "What am i going to do with you?" He shrugged, "I'd say marry me but you already did that."

She snorted and pulled back to give him another kiss before letting go and grabbing the apples. "Come on."

He followed after her, arching a brow when he realized she was not just wearing his hoodie but also a pair of his sweatpants.

"Are those mine?"

She paused and looked down, making a face when she looked up, "I need to buy new clothes."

He sat down and winced on her behalf before pulling her down into his lap. Lando peppered her in slobbery kisses, his arms wrapped around her waist keeping her from attempting to run away from him. "I like you in my clothes."

He grinned at her, when she gave him an unimpressed look, setting the apple bowls on the side table and wrapped her arms around his neck placing her own kisses on his cheek, "you're a menace."

He opened his mouth to say something but then his stomach growled, interrupting the moment.

She laughed at him before reaching over and grabbing an apple slice that she fed to him.

"I was supposed to ask you what you wanted for dinner." He explained once he swallowed.

She hummed and offered him a shrug, "There's an Italian place nearby that Oscar and Logan like that I've wanted to try, we could order that."

He nodded and grabbed her phone off the side table and handed it to her, "Use my card."

"I made more than you last year." She mumbled, looking up from the restaurants website on her phone.

"But yet that hasn't stopped you from requesting my card in the past."

She made a noise of indignation and smacked his chest, both of them laughing.

Their phones buzzed and Émilie looked at the message, muttering under her breath in French. Lando placed his chin on her shoulder and read the message, snorting.

Elena: do you want us to pick up dinner and bring it over since Em is sleeping?

Elena: and pregnant... 🤭

Émilie: fuck you too Lena.

Elena: oh you're awake.

Elena: what do you want for dinner?

Émilie: I want chicken parm and Lando wants chicken Alfredo.

"I do?" Lando remarked raising his eyebrow at his wife.

The smartass remark earned him an elbow to the ribs.

Émilie: and Mia wants fucking Tuna.

Max: are you sure Lando will still want to kiss you if eat fish?

Elena: The real question is, are you sure he's gonna want to keep the kid if she's a fish eater?

"She's got a point." Lando murmured, "I don't know if I can accept our baby if she eats fish."

Émilie groaned, "I hate you all."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her neck. "My parents would kill me if I they didn't get to meet their newest grandchild. You know how they are with Mila and Athena.”

She sighed and looked back at the chat.

Émilie: he doesn't get a choice if he wants to keep up with his family, his parents would disown him and keep me and Mia.

Lando huffed indignantly, nipping her ear before grabbing his own phone, "behave Émmie."

Lando: Slander and lies, don't believe a word she says.

Max: Unfortunately, the only lies I see here are yours, buddy.

Elena: do the lies include her dinner order?

Émilie: I'm going to kill all 3 of you if my fucking Italian isn't here when you 2 shit heads get here.

Lando gasped, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Wow and from my own wife."

Émilie huffed and set her phone down, ignoring whatever his sister-in-law retaliated with.

"If they don't bring my food-"

"Our food-"

"I am going to strangle her and leave Max a widower and Ferrari without their second driver." She pressed on, completely ignoring his correction.

"Violent."

She huffed, "you should have married someone else if you wanted a passive wife."

She paused a moment before patting his bicep, "now tell me about the day while we wait."

An hour later there was a knock at the day, and Émile shifted off Lando's lap so he could answer.

"We have your food!" Max called as he an Elena entered the hotel room. "Please don't hurt us."

Émilie rose to her feet and joined them all in the kitchen, eyeing the grocery bag on the counter with contempt before hugging her sister and brother-in-law.

"I'll decide what to do with you after I eat."

They ended up spreading out in the living room, Elena and Émilie on the couch while the boys pulled chairs in from the dining room.

"So, what's the latest gossip in the paddock?" Émilie asked once they'd all settled.

"Rumor has it Charles isn't driving for Ferrari next year." Elena said, making both Émilie and Elena stare at her.

"No way." Émilie gasped, not seeming to care about the food she flicked onto the floor when she leaned forward. "He's been with them forever!"

Gearbox happily cleaned it up.

Elena nodded, "I know! When I was in contract talks with legal they didn't mention him like they normally did. And when I asked about him they side stepped my question."

She paused and watched Gearbox, "they also asked who else I'd like to drive with if given the opportunity."

Lando tilted his head, "who'd you say?"

"Freddy."

Émmie smiled, clearly happy with that statement. Lando couldn't help himself from also smiling.

She was so pretty when she smiled like that, cheeks dusted pink in happiness.

"You know seeing you both so helplessly in love with each other now makes all those years of listening to Lando pine worth it." Max grumbled, distracting Lando's train of thought.

"Hey-"

Elena scoffed and ignored Lando, "if you thought he was bad you can not imagine what Émilie was-"

"I literally have so much dirt on the both of you," Émilie interrupted. She pointed her fork at Elena, "I'm your sister," she pointed the fork at Max, "and I was your teammate. I suffered the most."

Max turned a bit red, "I wasn't that bad." Lando snorted, "yes you were. Especially after she started dating Oscar." Émilie huffed, "that was bad, and I was getting an earful from Logan about it too."

Max was bright red at this point, pointedly not looking at his wife. "Ok so maybe-"

"There were so many times we were on the phone together and Max would just waltz into your drivers room and start complaining." Lando talked right over Max, not caring that his brother-in-law was trying to talk. "It was good gossip."

"All I wanted was a few minutes of peace with my fiancé and instead I got to play therapist to my ex-boyfriend." Émilie grumbled, pulling a pillow into her lap. "While on the phone with my fiancé!"

Elena was doubled over laughing now, "oh my god you were such a dork! I can't believe you went to my sister of all people about your feelings."

"And Charles." Max mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, "and Danny. Lando too I guess."

"Awe that's so sweet, you were such a lovesick dork." Elena giggled, wrapping her arms around Max's neck, then kissing his cheek. Max turned his head to kiss his wife fully. Knowing that he was helplessly in love with her and even if they would tease him forever at least he had her to himself now.

Gearbox whined and attempted to shove her nose between them, making everyone laugh.

“Well I guess that’s our queue, let’s go eat dinner.” Elena chuckled as she pulled away from Max to go get dinner ready. She could already tell it was going to be a great night.

[formula1neverleft]

Il Predestinato - Charles Leclerc

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female! reader 

Summary: Post Spanish GP

                 Charles doesn’t want pity. He just wants you. 

Warnings: smut, praise kink central, swearing

Some posts that *inspired* me: BASED ON THIS GIF AND THIS GIF ALONE (creds to biscottifosi) 

Song Recs: Cosmic Love by FLorence + the machine // Disconnect by Clean Bandit // I Never Learn by Lykke Li 

Author’s note: *dodges tomatoes* okay guys i know people are waiting on some of my other wip’s but this had to be done it was out of my control really. This is a work of fiction and not a reflection of the real people involved!! Not proofread. Feedback is very much appreciated!! Enjoy xx 

Words: 2k (short and sweet) 

Barcelona, Spain, May 22nd 2022

 Charles had long since learned that he couldn’t blame himself for an engine failure. 

To be fair, he couldn’t even blame the mechanics or the team as a whole. 

Over time, it became clear to him that every single person was putting their heart and soul into their work, and sometimes things don’t end up the way you had expected them. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair. 

Despite knowing all this, he couldn’t help the hollow ache in his chest as he made his way back to his trailer after finishing his interviews. 

In passing one of the screens in the media penn, he caught a glimpse of Max gaining the lead, and Charles quickly redirected his gaze towards his own feet, hoping they could carry him to his destination faster so that he wouldn’t risk running into anyone else who would undoubtedly give him a sympathetic pat on the back, maybe even a “tough luck, mate” to accompany the gesture. 

Charles knew their intentions were good, but it was the last thing he needed at this very moment. 

He’d seen you too, right after he had gotten out of the car, giving him a comforting smile as you gave him the space and time to shake hands with the mechanics first. 

You knew him better than anyone else, and he silently thanked you by shooting a wink your way as you turned on your heels and disappeared from his view. 

Charles closed his eyes in appreciation of the cold air that washed over him when he entered his trailer, as he leaned his back on the closed door and basked in it for a short while. 

He had almost forgotten how hot he’d been in the car, and somehow even hotter during the interviews, having to voice his obvious disappointment time and time again while being asked the same questions way too many times. 

At this moment, he felt like he could breathe again for the first time since stepping into the car. 

When he opened his eyes again, you were there. Leaning against the doorframe that led to the small bedroom section of the trailer, wearing nothing more than one of Charles shirts that rested barely halfway down your thighs. 

 Yeah, you really did know him better than anyone else. 

 “You okay, baby?” you asked sincerely, unable to hide the worry that always formed whenever he had a tough race, whether it was his fault or not.  

 “No, i’m not okay” Charles said with a sigh as he pushed himself off the door and started closing the distance between the two of you. 

 “but I don’t want pity” he continued, now so close to you he could rest his forehead against yours. 

 “you know that’s not what I need right now” he concluded as he finally connected your lips together. He wastes no time, pushing you up against the wall, hands planted firmly on either side of your head.

 His tongue explored your mouth, passionately but not too much, never too much. Before he met you he had never considered himself an above average kisser, but you had always praised him for it, and now it was all Charles could think about when he kissed you. 

As you recoiled from him in desperate need of some air, he focused his attention on your neck, kissing and licking all your sweet spots as his hands drifted lower, playing with the hem of his shirt before trailing them upwards slowly. 

You tried your best to not get lost in how good he was making you feel, knowing that after the day he’d had, he needed you to talk to him. 

To tell him how good he was being. 

 “feels so good Charles, I love your mouth” you spoke as your hands made their way into his hair, pulling and stroking, leaving his hair even more messy than was already the case after wearing his helmet. A small noise of appreciation left his lips at your praise, and in response, he pulled you with him into the bedroom. The bed was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two, but you knew a way or two to get around that problem. 

 “Sit down, baby” you put your hands on Charles shoulders and pushed down slightly, prompting him to sit down on the bed, facing you. 

You hands made quick work of getting him out of the race suit that was tied around his hips, fireproofs following soon after. You took the time to look at him, lips swollen and parted, his hair a mess, drops of sweat still visible on his temples. He looked beautiful, and desperate. 

 “You did so good today,” you continued as you eventually freed him from his boxers. He was already so hard, drops of pre-cum leaking onto the trail of hair that strailed from his belly button to his crotch. 

 “you did so good that I’m gonna suck your dick for you, but you knew that already when you got out of the car, didn’t you?” 

You could see the effects your words were having on him, his breathing getting even heavier, his lower lip clenched tightly between his teeth. Deciding to give him some much-needed relief, you get to work. Leaning your head slightly on his thigh, you give the side of his cock a few slow licks, focusing on one side and then the other. 

He was moaning now, a continuous stream of whimpers leaving his lips, his mouth falling open as his eyes screwed shut. 

Then you took him into your mouth fully, hands taking care of the part of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. Occasionally, you took him as deep as you could, hands holding onto his thighs as your head bobbed up and down. Charles’ hands found their way to your hair, getting it out of your face and into a make-shift ponytail as you doubled down on your efforts, a few barely intelligible “thank you’s”  coming from his lips. 

The noise that filled the room was absolutely filthy, a combination of your mouth and his moans, as you made a conscious effort to remember the sound for the next time you were alone and missing Charles. 

 Eventually, you leaned back and let him fall from your mouth, continuing your praise of you got up and started to undress yourself. 

 “Pole position and led the race, had all of the drivers behind you praying for your engine to give out, ‘cuz they know that’s the only way they were beating you” you said as you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you just as naked as Charles was now. 

 “Lay down for me” 

 Charles immediately obeyed you, laying himself down on his back, not letting his eyes stray from you even for one second. 

 “Max is still out there trying his best to scramble some point now that you’re not there, while your here, about to fuck me so good, aren’t you?” 

Charles was barely able to mutter out a “yes, baby” as you settled on top of him, just enough room on the narrow bed to fit your knees on either side of him. 

 “He probably wishes he was here right now instead of in that car, but this is only for you, Charles” you said as you finally sank down onto his cock. He looked unreal, eyes watering from the pleasure and cheeks flushed red as his mouth momentarily formed a teasing smirk, knowing you were getting off on this just as much as he was, but it was quickly replaced with a low whine as you started to move. The moans that you both let out simultaneously were obscene, but you quickly found your rhythm and regained your composure enough to continue your praise.  

 “ next time, you’ll be on that podium again, and if it's not next time then it’ll be the time after that, because you were meant for this, baby, you know that right? What is it they called you again…Il predestinato?” 

As soon as the words left your lips, Charles dug his hand into the skin of your hips, his knuckles turning white in the process. 

 “Call me that again” he muttered as his hands helped guide you in your rhythm, transitioning into a slow grind, feeling him so deep inside you that it made your toes curl. 

You repeated the word a few more times, feeling him twitch inside you each time. 

Before you could continue however, you felt the beginning of your orgasm blossoming, and instinctively Charles removed one of his hands on your hips to place his thumb on your clit to help you get there, knowing the exact movement and amount of pressure that you liked. 

“fuck yes, please make me cum, Charles, yes-” you pleaded as you firmly grabbed hold of his wrist to keep him there. 

 “You look so pretty like this, mon amour. You’re making such pretty noises for me, am I making you feel that good, huh?” Charles suddenly switched it up and decided to praise you for a change, and all you could do was nod before your orgasm washed over you as you buried your face into Charles’ neck, riding out your high as you spasmed around him. 

All Charles needed to follow suit was you saying his name over and over again as you game, followed here and there by a lewd “so good, baby”, as he came too while holding you down firmly onto him. 

The only noise in the room was now your pants as you lay there in silence for a few minutes, basking in the post-sex haze. Both of you now sweaty, skin sticking to each other and his come dripping from you as you leaned forward slightly, his cock still half-hard when he pulled out of you. 

Charles closed his eyes as his fingers trailed lovingly up and down your spine, making goosebumps arise in their wake. 

 “You know you’re more than just the number of points on that championship board, right?” you said earnestly as you looked up at him. 

 “Yeah, I know” Charles answered, giving you a comforting smile and a kiss on your forehead 

“ As long as I have you, I can handle it. We can make it through anything, together” 

His words made tears prickle the corner of your eyes, but Charles was quick to follow up his sentimental comment with a joke. 

 “I will ask the team to DNF more frequently if it means that I get this kind of consolation prize,” you quickly responded by giving him a playful jab to the ribs. 

 “Ow!” he replied melodramatically, causing you both to break out in a fit of laughter. 

A few more minutes passed before you spoke up once more. 

 “Are you ready to go back out there? race is probably over by now” 

 “Just give me a few more minutes here, ma cherie” he replied as he closed his eyes, not ready to face the world outside of the trailer just yet. 

You didn’t have to be told twice, and laid your head down on his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart underneath you. 

You could stay here forever if he wanted to

[wwbtsdty]

Set My Soul On Fire [ 1 ] | 18+

Summary: The chances of meeting your soul flame were almost one in a eight billion, the only way of knowing you were a match? You had to happen to be in close proximity of each other, so how were you ever to find your one true flame when they possibly lived halfway around the globe. When you find out you matched with not one but four members from the biggest boy band in the world, you weren’t sure if you were incredibly lucky or headed for devastating heartbreak, but you were willing to find out.

Rating: 18+

Genre: idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: Explicit language, dom!jungkook, dom!jimin, dom!taehyung, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, slow burn smut, depictions of violence, possessiveness, polyamory, mentions of blood, anxiety, insecurities, trauma, jealousy, sexual tension. 

Author’s Note: More warnings to be added in later chapters. This is my first fanfic I’m sharing with the public, so please be kind. I’m working on becoming a better writer, for now sometimes this might seem like a jumbled mess, but practice makes perfect! Hopefully I can at least convey the stories I want in the best way I can. This is all fictional. 

Soul Flame | noun

A being with which you share a bond that cannot be broken.

A being who can feel their mates feelings and thoughts.

Soul Flames came into existence shortly after I had entered middle school, I can still remember the news reports blasting across every channel. You couldn’t turn on the television, radio or even walk down the street without being bombarded by the news. 

“Real or Fake?! First existence of soul mates discovered in Europe!”

“New phenomenon discovered, scientists have named Soul Flames!”

Soul Flames were people you instinctually bonded with, but the catch was only one person would be able to feel their soul flame initially, and only when they were within a short distance of each other. Scientists were still trying to figure out why only one person in the bond would be able to feel what the other person was feeling upon first meeting. Only when the bond was complete with your soul flame the other bond would be able to feel their thoughts and feelings.

The term Soul Flame had come from what happened upon mating. I guess each bond had a unique “flame” when they mated, the soul flames had described it as a colorful aura that enveloped them and created a feeling, which of course, couldn’t be described by anyone other than the bonded, as it wasn’t visible to the naked eye. This in itself made the idea of soul flames a lot for people to believe in, seeing is believing after all.

Everyone went a little crazy after the first announcement, running around getting as close to anyone they found remotely attractive to see if a bond would appear. After the first month though was when things really started to turn sideways. Without having any visible way of telling who was truly your soul flame, people started using this to their own advantage. Lying about being someone’s soul flame to get them to sleep with them, steal from them or worse. As quickly as a year from announcing the first bonded pair, the term Soul Flame had become synonymous with ghosts and Bigfoot, something the government would rather sweep under the rug then acknowledge.

When you had to be in such a short distance of your soul flame to even find one, how in the 8 million people in the world would you ever meet such a person, if they even existed?

April 16, 2022 - Las Vegas

BTS was currently the hottest boy band of the century, and you had somehow been lucky enough to score tickets to their first concert since the pandemic ended.

Normally you weren't much of a concert goer, masses of people squeezed tighter than sardines, girls shrieking and crying... you'd rather walk over hot coals. But, for Bangtan you were willing to make the sacrifice. To finally hear those gorgeous voices in person, see their lithe bodies dancing on stage. It had seemed only fate that their concert fell on your birthday, the perfect birthday present to yourself.

You glanced over at your friend dressed to kill, she looked like she was about to hit the red carpet, not the mosh pit that awaited us inside the stadium. You raised a brow at her questionable choice of shoes, 4 inch platform heels, you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up. "How in the hell are you going to last all day in those heels Mel? I’m not helping you when you decide to ditch those bad boys and walk barefoot, remember what happened last time?" Last time being a party where she had drunkly thrown her shoes in the trash and then proceeded to step on some idiots broken beer bottle on our walk home.

She just scoffed at you, running her fingers down her body suggestively. "If you want to grab the bangtan boys attention you've got to dress the part, beauty is pain baby!"  To which you shook your head, “Seriously Mel, no more emergency room visits please.” You glanced around at the throngs of people swarming the stadium, you were shocked to find many if not all the girls were in fact dressed in their most eye-catching outfits, hair and makeup absolutely perfect. Sure there were some devoted army decked out in nothing but BTS gear, handmade signs held proudly with phrases like, “Marry Me Suga” or “Show me your Namtiddes,” a sign in particular that always made you chuckle.

Your eyes traveled down to your own plain tank top and denim shorts, topped off with your good ole beat up hot pink converse. You'd dressed knowing it was gonna be hot as hell in Vegas, let alone with all those bodies packed together. You could see the people now, straining as far across that threshold as they could get away with, fingers grasping for any member they could get there greedy fingers on. You didn’t feel like falling given your graceful status, you still remembered how much shit Mel gave you the last time you decided to wear heels and immediately ate it.

Not that you really cared how you looked, you knew no matter the show the boys put on it was just that, a show. I'm sure they thought some women.. or men(I don't pretend to know their sexual preference) in the crowd were hot. That's about as far as that goes though, some gossiping amongst each other, some flirting looks and dance moves, god help me if they sang Baepsae. But no one could honestly think anything would ever happen with one of them. Yes, they were devastatingly handsome, and they knew it. You had fallen in love with their music and dance moves long before their looks, the fact that they were hot was just a perk.

You finally reached the end of the line, a big burly man in a security jacket giving Mel a once over before scanning our tickets for entry. Music was blasting through the speakers as you walked into the stadium, you couldn’t help but wonder if the security guard was secretly an Army, maybe underneath that jacket he too had “Marry me Suga” on his shirt. Mel weaved through that crowd like she was in the matrix dragging you along for the ride, somehow we made it to the front of the stage unscathed.

Feedback rang throughout the stadium just as we got to our seats, the show was about to begin... cue the screaming girls. You quickly raised your hands to cover your ears against the onslaught, glancing over at Mel to complain only to suddenly be swarmed by crazed fans pushing to get as close to the stage as possible. 

“Fuck!” You shouted as you found yourself pressed harshly against the barrier, now you remember why you hated going to concerts in the first place. You were finding it difficult to breathe in this position, the crowd seemed to push harder, forcing your body almost across the barrier. Security guards were doing their best to force the masses back but were failing miserably. The familiar rush of adrenaline spread throughout your body, you felt the familiar onslaught of anxiety rearing its ugly head. Yet another reason you didn’t like to attend concerts, you knew not being able to breathe well was one of your triggers, silly you for thinking things could be different. You'd been working so hard with medication and psychologists to try to remedy this situation over the years, you thought you were prepared.

Please don’t do this to me now, I’ve waited for this moment for so long, the last thing I needed was a panic attack to ruin everything. 

You tried taking deep breaths in and out as you began to count the number of speakers on stage, a technique you had developed in therapy after discovering your need to distract your brain during the episodes. Still the adrenaline burned hotter in your body, the heat of Las Vegas was definitely not helping this situation. Nothing was working... you frantically searched the crowd for Mel. At this rate you were bordering on passing out, with this many people around you were bound to be trampled, here’s hoping she wouldn’t be attending your funeral. Here lies Y/N, trampled by crazed fans at a BTS concert after having a stupid panic attack.

Harsh Korean words echoed throughout the stadium, the sound of fighting ensued as people could be seen moving about quickly back stage, you could just make out two other people holding someone back as he tried to break away. Just as your eyesight started to blur a tuft of black hair came running on stage frantically, his worried eyes scouring the crowd as the screams from the crowd reached a crescendo. Your gaze met with his and you were suddenly falling as the world went black around you.

[ Italics will briefly signify Korean ]

“What were you thinking?! You could have gotten hurt, let alone the pictures that will be splattered across every front page!” 

“Fuck I wasn’t thinking hyung, you know that better than anyone! I just knew I had to get to her…. I could feel her.”

You could just make out people shouting around you, a loud crash registering as you blinked back into consciousness. You let out a brief whine squinting against the blinding fluorescent lights. Shit you felt like you’d been hit by a semi truck. You try hard to remember what happened, flashes of screaming fan girls and not being able to breathe clouding your vision.

“Guys she’s waking up, let’s all just calm down and not freak her out more than she already will be.”

You registered someone gently cradling your hand, sweeping their fingers softly across your wrist in comfort. “Hey there, go slowly.. you fell and hit your head pretty hard. How are you feeling?” A deep voice whispered,  your eyes fully opening to the sight of four men crowding around you.

All at once everything came back to you, the concert, the crushing swarm of fan girls, the sweltering heat causing your anxiety to skyrocket before you ultimately lost consciousness. But more importantly… was Park Jimin from BTS currently holding your hand or did you actually get crushed to death?

You nervously snatched your hand from his grasp, frantically shuffling backwards in your confusion as an arm shot out to steady you before you fell off the couch. “Yah! Careful!” You glanced down to the tattooed arm wrapped around your stomach then up to the person it belonged to, large almond eyes stared worriedly into your own making your stomach to clench.

“J-… ungkook? Jeon Jungkook?”

That familiar bunny smile on display that made your heart falter, he gave a shy nod as his arm tightened around you. 

“Wha-… What the hell is going on? Did I hit my head harder than I thought? Wait... am I dead? I’m dead aren’t I? I never thought this would be the way I would go, crushed by fan girls! I mean, granted I thought maybe you guys would at least be shirtless if I were in heaven…” The word vomit wouldn’t stop, you felt increasingly nervous as you rambled on taking in the members around you.

Jimin’s angel like laughter broke your reverie as he whispered softly, “I mean… I can make that happen if that’s what you want Y/N.” The blood rush to your face at his comment, warmth gathering in your stomach at the idea of Jimin shirtless. No doubt you were blushing based on the curious stares you were getting from Namjoon and Taehyung across the room.

Wait.. he had just spoken Korean hadn’t he? You were almost positive you didn’t know Korean.. did you?

I mean sure you had tried to learn it briefly one summer during lockdown, you thought it would be nice not have to rely on the captions when you watched your drama’s. But that was it, you knew just enough to get by. “How can I understand you?” You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as they considered your comment.

“Well, my best guess is because of the bond… but there’s never been another soul flame where someone spoke another language so...” Namjoon shrugged, explaining like it was the most natural thing in the world to understand. A nervous snort escaped you as you looked at Namjoon like he had grown horns, “Wait wait… what—did you say Soul Flame? Aren’t those like fairy tales you tell little girls and boys these days?”

Jungkook and Jimin suddenly looked like you had just kicked their puppy or something, “It’s not a fairy tale…” Taehyung piped in sullenly. Namjoon cleared his throat stepping closer, “Tae’s right, Soul Flames very much still exist and we believe you may be ours. Jungkook was more than willing to risk his life on just that. ” He shot jungkook a glare, that all too familiar chin jutting out angrily. Jungkook pulled you tightly against him until you could feel the hard planes of his chest burning into your back, “I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing,” He spoke vehemently under his breathe.

You were still stuck on one keyword in his sentence, “Ours? Ours who? You don’t mean…” You signaled to all four of them, “All of you are my Soul Flames? I thought you only had 1 Soul Flame… if it even existed.” You weren’t ever expecting to find your Soul Flame in your lifetime, no one really did, let alone 4 of them. How in the hell did that even work?

“Honestly, we’re not sure how this happened either, maybe it’s because we have such a strong bond as members that this happened? There’s so much that’s not known about Soul Flames, no one really cares to research anymore after all that has happened. There could be many multiple person pairs out there we just don’t know about.” Namjoon sighs rubbing at his temple in annoyance, “What we do know is we will have to deal with the repercussions tomorrow morning of Jungkooks display, right now we’d just like to get you somewhere safe. We rushed you back stage after you collapsed and had our physician on staff check you out while you were under. He said you’d probably just have a bad headache and some bruising but nothing too serious.” He handed you a bottle of water and some pills, “Aspirin, I’m sure your head is killing you after that fall.”

You had momentarily forgotten just how crappy you felt, quickly downing the medicine and water. “Thank you, now that you mentioned it my head is really killing me…” rubbing at the back of your head, you were sure there would be a nice bump back there tomorrow… “Wait! What about the concert?” You exclaimed, hoping you hadn’t ruined everything. Jungkook rested his chin on your shoulder squeezing you reassuringly, “We postponed it… we’ll get on VLive later tonight to console Army’s, I’m sure they will understand.” Oh sure, you’ll just explain that some random girl is now bonded to 4 of the hottest boy band members in the world, this would go over real well. Mel would so get a kick out of your predicament, you were always one who stayed as far from the spotlight, unlike your attention loving friend.

Mel! Shit! She was probably worried sick, or not if she had seen Jungkook jump off stage and carry me off. “Where are my things? I need to text Mel she’s probably worried sick about me.”

Jimin handed me my purse from the side table with a small smile, his fingers lingering on mine as I took it from him. I quickly shot off a text to Mel, leaving out of course that I was with BTS and somehow they thought I was their Soul Flame.

I’m okay, will explain later, go back to the hotel without me.

My phone chimed almost immediately.

Bitch I’d hope your better than okay after myself and everyone else in the world saw you get carried away in Jungkook’s arms. TELL ME EVERYTHING!! 😈

You groaned, you should have expected this...

I can’t explain right now, I promise I’ll talk to you when I can. xoxo 

Tucking your phone into your purse as you ignored the string of chimes erupting from a no doubt angry Mel, you heard rather than saw Namjoon shuffle closer, “I do hope you know discretion is best in times like this… I know you're not familiar with paparazzi but they can be brutal. We'll let our managers decide how to deal with everything, so please don’t mention anything to anyone yet.” You totally agreed with him, “Of course, I won’t say a thing… not like anyone would believe me anyway,” you whispered under your breathe. 

“Great, so we’ve already got a room ready for you at the hotel, we have gone ahead and doubled our security in light of tomorrows headlines. We all agreed we would feel safer with you nearby where we can protect you. The rest of the group has gone on ahead. I can send someone out to get your belongings if you let me know where you were staying.” Namjoon rattled off so matter of fact it made your head reel, you just nodded along as you were still processing the fact that you were going to be in the same hotel, no the same floor even as BTS.

Jimin reached down to help you up but Jungkook had beat him to it, hoisting you up into his arms and tucking you against his chest securely. You wiggled in protest, “Wait! I can walk. I’m sure i’m heavy!” He just smiled down at me, “Muscle Bunny... remember?” Your stomach did that weird flip flop again, his face so close to yours, that little mole under his lip driving you to distraction.

Taehyung placed a hat and some sunglasses on you, giving a little shrug, “Just in case, we’ve cleared a path to the vans but you never know.”

We arrived at some sort of underground parking garage, a black van with tinted windows was waiting for us. Jungkook swiftly tucked me into one of the waiting bucket seats, fastening my seat belt for me. Just as he was about to sit in the unoccupied bucket seat beside me Taehyung nudge him out of the way taking the seat and securing his seat belt. He stuck his tongue out at Jungkook signaling to the back seats, “You’ve had her long enough, my turn!” 

The ride to the hotel was uneventful, luckily the other vans with the other members had left earlier garnering the attention of the fans, so it was pretty much a ghost town by the time you left. You stared thoughtfully out at the brilliantly lit streets, mobs of people littering the Las Vegas Strip. Normal people up until recently you had been, you still wondered if this was just a dream you’d wake up from any minute. Taehyung softly took your hand in his with a coy smile as you turned his way, his thumb sweeping across your wrist. “You okay?” You gave him a tired smile, feeling beyond exhausted all of sudden. “Yah.. just tired, I think everything is hitting me all at once.” You sighed softly, feeling strangely comforted by his gesture.

The rest of the drive was silent as you drifted in and out, trying your best to keep your eyes open. Taehyung gave your shoulder a squeeze making you to look over to him, “We’re here… don’t worry, security has taken care of everything. We’ll take a private elevator to our floor, we have the whole floor so nobody will be able to have access that shouldn’t. We’ll keep you safe.” You looked around the van at the rest of the guys, all sharing a similar smile, Taehyung gave a tiny hwaiting.

[ Italics no longer signifies Korean ]

Just as Taehyung had said, the way up to the rooms was relatively painless. So this is what the VIP experience is like you thought, as you headed towards the last elevator, you were blinded by a bright light the moment you rounded the corner, the boys rushed you into the elevator crowding around you protectively. You found yourself pressed up against Jungkook’s chest, someone else forming a solid wall behind you. The security guards blocked the elevator with their bodies as well until the doors closed in front of you.

“Dammit.” You heard Namjoon whisper behind you, oh so that's who that was you thought. “How did they find us...” He sighed, his fingers gently sweeping down your arm in reassurance, whether for you or him you weren’t quite sure. You squirmed between Jungkook and Namjoon awkwardly, feeling your face flush at your current predicament. Namjoon’s breathe feathered softly across your neck sending shivers down your spine, a current of arousal shot through you as the heat from both their bodies permeated yours. A groan erupted behind you, Jungkook’s fingers digging into your sides sharply.

A thought suddenly occurred to you, if they were telling the truth and you really were bonded, then they could feel your emotions.. fuck.You bit your lip trying to contain your thoughts as you squirmed in their grasp trying to put some distance between you. It was futile of course, with five people crowded in the elevator there was barely enough room to breathe. 

“Please stop moving.” Namjoon grunted behind you going deathly still, you were suddenly very aware of something hard pressing against your ass. “Sorry,” you squeaked out ceasing your movements, your eyes glued to the elevator numbers slowly going up. Your mind betrayed you, suddenly recalling the way Namjoon’s shirt had clung to his chest in the most recent VLive, everyone had taken notice since he started working out, and with him pressed up against your back there was no way you couldn’t take notice of his recent efforts. You only just resisted the urge not to press yourself back against him, Namtiddies indeed. 

You could feel Namjoon’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head the entire rest of the ride, Jungkook’s fingers kneading the flesh of your waist gently. These boys were going to be the death of you, like literal combustion. The elevator finally announced your floor and you could not get out fast enough, shoving your way around Jungkook you practically sprinted out the door into the penthouse, breathing in deeply you placed a hand on your chest willing your heart to calm down. 

The boys slowly sauntered out after, you noticed more than a few of them having to adjust themselves. Nope, no no no you did not just notice that! You shook your head trying to look anywhere but their crotches. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you, the longer you stayed in their presence the hotter your arousal for them burned. Of course they were hot, millions of fans around the world plastering their seductive dances and facial expressions on the internet couldn’t be wrong. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever stumble upon a fan fiction or YouTube video. First things first, figure out what situation you had gotten yourself into and how not to get killed by ARMY.

Taehyung was the first to speak up, “We have two penthouse suites on this floor, myself, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook are in this suite. So we thought it would be best you stayed here with us.” Jimin directed you towards a room on the right, “This is your room, it used to be Jungkook’s room since he won the single room, but he graciously agreed to let you have it and bunk on the couch.” Shaking your head adamantly you stepped towards the couch, “You don’t have to do that, I’m totally fine sleeping on the couch. Besides it’ll probably the most expensive couch I’ve ever slept on by the looks of this place.”

Jungkook quickly jumped on the couch, spreading out and making himself at home, “Your our Soul Flame, you get the bedroom. We all agreed you should have some privacy, I’m sure this is as strange a circumstance for us as it is for you. Besides It’s not the first couch I’ve had to sleep on.” Taehyung gave you a gentle nudge in the direction of your room, inside was a queen size bed, an en suite bathroom to the right with a large claw foot tub; you would definitely be utilizing that at some point.

“We’ll let you have a moment to yourself, whenever you're ready come on out to the living room and we’ll talk, okay?” The door closed with a quiet click behind Namjoon. You could hear muted whispers from the living room as you face planted onto the bed with a giant sigh. How in the actual hell had you gone from a normal girl attending a concert to suddenly sleeping in the same penthouse as BTS. You rolled onto your back starring up at the ceiling, quickly grabbing a pillow to shove your face into to conceal your loud squeal.

Alright, calm down Y/N. You’ve got to talk to everyone and figure out what the hell is going on.

You wanted to say they were mistaken, who were you to be the Soul Flame to 4 of the hottest boy band members in the world? You could barely make it through college, between your anxiety and loosing your father, some days you could barely get out of bed. How would you even know if was real? Though its not like they had anything to gain from pretending to be your soul flames, they were the ones risking so much on a girl like you, the ones with the most to lose.

If you were to believe you were truely Soul Flames, you had definitely ended up on the wrong side of the bond, you couldn’t feel any of their emotions. The only thing you got was this ever burning arousal, intrusive thoughts of stripping each of them bare to finally see how they looked underneath those costumes, brief glimpses you'd had of Jungkook’s abs and Namjoons chest in pictures flashed vividly in your thoughts. Your mind already imagining their sweaty bodies entangled with yours--Whoa, down girl! Maybe I needed to take a cold shower after all.

You heard someone choking outside your door, along with some other colorful expletives causing you to flush bright red, you had forgotten the whole thought sharing thing yet again, this was really going to take some getting used to, you really needed to get your this under control. Covering your face with your hands you curled up on the bed in embarrassment wondering how you would face them now.

Outside in the living room everyone had gathered including Yoongi, Jin and Hoseok.

Jungkook choked on his water, coughing loudly as a very vivid image suddenly entered his mind. Jimin’s eyes widened at the same time whispering a curse under his breathe, they both glanced towards your door. “Alright, lets try not to make her uncomfortable… I can only imagine what's it’s like for her, having one person let alone four know what you're thinking and feeling without being able to stop it.” Namjoon stood up declaring to the room, he looked directly over at Hoseok and Yoongi who were laughing at their members predicament.

“Yah, don’t look at us! We’ve already been through this shit once, paybacks a bitch as they say.” Yoongi continued laughing his ass off, Hoseok nudging him in the ribs to indicate that was enough. “Look, we’ll help as much as we can, but just because we’re Soul Flames doesn’t mean she’ll believe us either.” Hoseok shrugged regarding his mate with a fond smile.

Namjoon happened a glance over at Jin, he was smiling but he knew him better, Jin was devastated. All the talk amongst the group after SOPE had officially been announced as Soul Flames, the excited chatter in the group at their potential future partners, Jin had always seemed the most excited; he couldn’t help feeling horrible at the situation. Jin was the only one in the group without a mate now, “Hyung...” Jin shook his head, smiling gently at Namjoon, “Don’t, this is a happy occasion. You guys have found your Soul Flame, I can’t wait to meet her. Besides, our world tour coming up I’m bound to meet my fated one as well!” Truth be told of course he was hurting, but he’d never want to dampen his brothers elation at having found their mate. Who would have thought that the rest of the members would match with one woman, it was unheard of. There had only been two person pairs, never has there been a five person pair.. at least not one that had come out in public he thought.

“Is she ever going to come out?” Taehyung whined, pacing the floor anxiously, Jimin cautiously approach the door knocking softly, “Y/N? Baby? You okay in there… you’ve been in there a while now, everyone’s getting antsy.” All eyes turned to the door as it slowly creaked open, you peeked out into the living room. Hoseok sprang into action, jumping from the couch and bounding straight towards you causing you to stumble back at his eagerness, he quickly enveloped you in his arms, “We finally meet! I’m J-Hope! Of course you know that! But I wanted to properly introduce myself!” Even his hugs felt like sunshine, his contagious smile instantly relaxing you as you melted in his embrace. Yoongi had walked up behind while laughed along with Hobi. “You finally came out, we were beginning to wonder.” Smiling shyly you nodded, “I just needed some time… this has all been a lot today.” Yoongi nodded along with you crossing his arms over his chest, “Yes, I’m sure its a lot to take in… I hope the boys have treated you well so far.”

Jin appeared around the corner, a cart full of every kind of food known to mankind. “I didn’t know what you liked but I thought you might be hungry! I would have made something but alas no kitchen, we’ll get some of World Wide Handsome’s famous cooking in your belly soon enough though!” Your stomach growled right on queue, you didn’t even realize how hungry you had become with everything that had happened. Jin pulled out a chair for you as he began unloading all the dishes on the table, “Well don’t just stand there staring, this food isn’t going to eat itself!” Namjoon shook his head as the rest of the boys groaned at the horrible dad joke, Jin just laughed at his own joke as usual, you were beginning to realize the boys you had seen in so many video’s were really the same when the camera’s were off.

Everyone gathered around the table taking their seats, Jungkook and Jimin rushing to make your plate, you watched begrudgingly as they filled it to the brim, “Guys! there’s no way I’m going to be able to eat all that,” You snatched the plate from them before they could start in on a second plate for you. Jimin pouted sullenly drawing your attention to those pillowy soft lips, you bit your lower lip imaging it was his. You had always wondered how good his lips would feel on yours. He had such plush kissable lips, they had always drawn your attention whenever you saw his photographs. Jimin’ caged you against the table suddenly, his hands on either side of you as he pressed himself flush against you, “Wanna find out?” His breathe fanned across your jaw, lips brushing ever so softly against your ear as he spoke, your heart pounded in your chest, gripping the table behind you tightly. A smirk lifted his lips as he placed a soft kiss to your neck, backing up to take in your flushed predicament. Just as quickly as the smirk had appeared his familiar angelic smile replaced it as he released you from his spell to pull out a chair for you.

He loved that he was able to affect you so much, he could only imagine just how far that blush would spread down your body when he had you underneath him, would your breasts flush such a lovely shade of red as well. Would your body be pliant in his arms as he covered your body with these lips you seemed to love so, if you’d let him he would worship you with them as you deserved. Shaking away the daydreams he sat down next to Taehyung and reigned himself in, he didn’t want to rush you and scare you away, so he would behave himself until the time was right.

You sat in stunned silence, casting your face down as if the plate of food was suddenly incredibly interesting. Taehyung sat down next to you shooting daggers Jimin’s way, he quickly reached out to grab your hand, “No fair Y/N, I want a kiss too!” He began sprinkling kisses along your knuckles, nipping your index finger to get your attention on him causing you to gasp. He sent you a sly smile as he took the tip of your finger into his mouth apologetically, giving it a soft kitten lick. The sexual tension in the room skyrocketed, a warmth quickly spreading through you abdomen as you watched Taehyung press a kiss to each of your fingertips.

A loud crack rang out as Namjoon smacked his hands down on the table causing everyone to jump, you snatched your hand back grateful for the break in attention. “Yah! Give Y/N some room to breathe for crying out loud!” He wasn’t sure if he was just mad he hadn’t been in their place or worried for your sake, what he did know is they were going to scare you away at this rate. He knew the feelings on one side of the bond came on strong, much stronger than the other side, he had seen it happen with Yoongi and Hobi, but feeling it was a whole other matter in itself. It had taken all of his strength not to jump across the table when he sensed your arousal earlier, he wanted to lock you away, fuck you into accepting them as your Soul Flames, watch as you fell apart under him screaming his name until your voice went hoarse. Watching the rest of his brothers garnering your attention was driving him crazy. He knew he had to be the voice of reason as always for the group, the younger members were always ones to give into their emotions, so he had to control his in order for some sort of order.

Everyone went silent after the outbreak, turning their attention to their food. Once everyone had just about finished eating Namjoon decided it was time to address the matter at hand, “So, Y/N… I know this is probably a lot to comprehend, that’s why I wanted to include Yoongi and Hobi for this conversation to answer whatever questions you have regarding Soul Flames. As you and the rest of the world know, they are Soul Flames so they’ve been through this process before.” You had almost forgotten they had been revealed to the world as Soul Flames, it having been so early in their career, their business wasn’t as wide spread online as it is now. I think many had brushed it off as something staged for publicity, but hearing it was real was somewhat reassuring. There would be someone who has gone through this before, someone to rely on and answer all the question burning in the back of your mind.

“Whatever you need, I’m here. Even if its just someone to talk to when the boys get to be too much!” Hobi smiled in my direction as Namjoon continued, “I think we felt you the moment you entered the stadium, but it was rather hard to distinguish our feelings of excitement from yours. It wasn’t until we felt your fear that we knew our Soul Flame was close.”

Jungkook reached out entwining his fingers with yours, “I felt like I was suffocating, everyone wanted to wait, send out a bodyguard to find you. But I just had to get to you, I couldn’t fight it… and the Hyungs couldn’t hold me back. I’m sorry for creating this problem, I wish I had been better able to control myself.” You felt your heart sink, the last thing you wanted was to make him feel so sad and ashamed of himself, something inside of you never wanted these men to ever feel pain or sadness. You squeezed his hand tightly shaking your head adamantly, “It’s alright, please don’t feel bad about anything that happened. I’m sure I could have been injured worse had you not stepped in when you did. I’m sure your company will be able to deal with everything, right?” His eyes shined brightly giving you a wide smile, using your entertwined hands to pull you into him and hug you tightly. He was squeezing you so tightly for a moment you felt all the breathe leave you lungs, you gave a little squeak trying to signal that he was holding you too tightly. “Kook… too tight.” He immediately released you as you gulped in air, everyone laughing as Jungkook’s blushed.

“I know its hard to accept you are our Soul Flame, I can’t really explain how we know… we just, we can feel you… like you’re a part of our thoughts, your emotions driving ours. When you feel an emotion strongly its all we can feel, it takes over everything inside us, That’s why Kook, and all of us really, went a little crazy when we felt your anxiety, your fear. Kook has just always been the most emotional of all of us, that might be why he did what he did without thinking of the consequences.” Taehyung spoke softly, hoping to convey a little bit of what they felt.

“We can take things as slow as you want, we are just glad you came into our lives. We want to learn everything about you, spend time with you and hope you in turn develop the same bond we feel. We understand it will be hard, but now that we’ve found you we don’t want to live without you.” Namjoon’s words caused your heart to race, could someone like you really be all that they hoped for. What if you didn’t live up to their expectations, you weren’t some beautiful actress, you weren’t even Korean. How could you possibly ever hope to keep their love, there were millions of people in the world better than you to be their Soul Flame, why would you ever think the world has chosen you.

You sighed deeply, “How could this ever work…? My life is here, my friends are here. I have a few weeks left in my semester. Not to mention you guys are— well your BTS and I’m just, me. You guys have to go back to Korea, back to your lives.” Even if you did believe you were meant to be with them, there was just no way it would ever work out, you were both from two different worlds.

“We don’t know exactly how yet, but we will find a way to make it work. Please just, can you try…” Your heart ached as you glanced at Jungkook who looked on the verge of tears before taking in each of their heartbroken expressions.

“We still have concerts to put on here in the US, we could stay until you have finished your semester. Then maybe you would like to come to Korea with us for the summer? We would take care of everything… consider it a vacation?” Namjoon quickly formulated a plan upon seeing the rest of his members sad faces, with the postponement of the concerts they could easily move some things around until Y/N finished. He just hoped she would be able to then fly back with them, let them show her around Korea and hopefully convince her of their bond in the meantime.

You breathed in deeply gathering your strength, “I have never been to Korea before…” maybe, just maybe you could take a leap of faith for once in your life and be brave.

Next ⇢

[tigertale]

A/N: Is it bad that I can relate a little too much to Yuuya? Anyway, reader is insecure and Ace is an ass. A good 10k words??? I can't assure you a good quality throughout the entire fic

A/N 2: I died and revived halfway through writing the fic and the scenario went brrr (started this during December 2022 oops)

F!Reader; Ace

•〔　！ 〕Smut; First time; Grammatical errors; Not proofread

Ace looked at the sorry excuse the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm was.

She had unconsciously curled up into her seat, not because of the light almost see through clothes that served as a poor excuse for pajamas, but most probably because of how insecure she was about getting closer to the boy. And the sight made the clench in his ribs almost unbearable.

He was kind of stupid wasn't he? Suddenly barging into her place in the middle of the night despite having insulted her a few hours ago. It had taken for her to properly guide the unlucky chandelier group — aka him, the magicless student, whoever this dormmate of his was and a highly sensitive beast — through the obstacle the mine monster was for him to realize that she wasn't as boring as what he had told her. And now that he was before her, he remembered how he had never properly apologized.

He opened his mouth, but it seemed that the two of them had the same idea as their voices overlapped over one another. It resulted in an awkward silence that became a just as awkward game of "you first." And his persistence made him win the game.

Her knees brushed against one another as she tried to get her words out. "I know that the couch is not comfortable, so if you want you can always sleep in my bed." Eh? That was even more unexpected than what he had imagined. Didn't she mean that she wanted him to leave? Wasn't she supposed to be angry at him for how he had belittled her so far? And he made sure to voice those thoughts to her.

"I guess that… I am a little angry about that. But I don't like being caught in problems, and I don't want you to sleep under the rain too." The water drop that hit his face empathized her claim. As he wept it off his cheek with the back of his blazer and cursed the shady state of the building, he thought about how kind she was. Too much even. He was not one to be bothered by such things, but he was oh so guilty when she would selflessly try to bring him comfort — and at the back of his mind, the idea that someone other than would take advantage of it surely grew to become something he feared.

He drapped his arms over the back of the sofa, a playful smile hanging on his lips. "So~ You're okay with letting me sleep in your bed? You can't take it back once you've said yes!" A yelp left his mouth as a coil found fun by jabbing his behind.

"I've already proposed it to you… I can't just take it back now." Right! That's why he had said that she was boring. She had never talked back, they had been glued to each other for an entire day but she was just being placide and let everything unfold before her. It was a shame, especially after he had seen how she had the power to easily fix problems and had a complex yet interesting way of thinking. But so, at least he didn't have to beg to have things go his way. It would've been awkward to use the argument of his slim body to gain even the slightest bit of sympathy.

"Then come on, lead the way." She sighed as she got up, clearly displeased by the way he was addressing her, but not wanting to express it.

After they had entered the room, she had gone straight to bed, watching from time to time as he got himself ready to sleep. The urge to tease her about it died whenever he looked at her. Her eyes, expressing how expectant she was for him to finish, stopped him from doing so. And the way she was coddled up under the cover like a child made the guilt come back. She looked cute like that, and that was a damn stupid thought for him to have.

He eventually slid under the cover, his buttoned up shirt was partially open and he had kept his trousers on to keep some kind of decency. She did mention that he was allowed to sleep in his underwear after he had jokingly asked about it, arguing that she was used to it as she had brothers, and if needed she could put pillows in-between them. It may have been too straightforward for him, and before he could properly think about it he had already disagreed saying that it was only a joke.

Minutes passed where the two of them thought about the one by their side in silence. Their reflexions going from a simple "he's stupid" to more complex ones. And Ace was not one to keep himself from expressing his opinions. If he had something to say, then he would say it. "You're too kind, you know? Think about yourself more, you need to strengthen yourself a bit." It broke the stillness between them.

She shuffled under the cover, pulling it even higher above her face as if to hide it. Not that he could even see her half lidded eyes, dropped with sadness, to begin with as it was too dark. "Am I not already?" He turned towards her, unconsciously trying to make out the shape of her face despite knowing that he couldn't. "I'm "kind" as you say, but for me it's only a mean to avoid any problems that can be an obstacle to my peace. I just want to be comfortable, and I'll do anything to be. Isn't that egoism?" The silence that followed made her question her words, forgetting about the boy laying beside her. Just like everyone she had needs that had to be fulfilled, and those needs were the only thing that pushed her forward despite the hole in her heart. If she couldn't have her family by her side, if she couldn't let go of this loneliness, she could at least work out something that will compensate and make her forget about those worries.

"You're as kind as you're dumb to say things like that without hesitation." She almost choked at his words, and the snickers that followed let her understand that he had found fun in her short surprise. Part of the dip beside her disappeared as he sat up. "Shit I've never imagined talking about this kind of stuff so late at night… So what? Now it's selfish to wish for something and to work for it? And you could've just given me the sofa, but you've still offered me the bed because I could've caught a cold. If you feel that you have any obligation related to my health then you might as well be kind." A whine left the back of her throat before she could have stopped it.

She hated those words. "Kind." She was just a normal and average human being, she didn't like those labels that would be thrown at her whether she liked it or not. It was distressing in a way how some people felt the need to put nice words for her as if she had deserved it.

The mattress once again dipped, but this time on each side of her face. She was surprised that his hands were caging her head and his hot breath fawning over her face. He was on all four above her, he had moved so swiftly she had barely had the time to register it. "It seems to me that you're just overthinking." She felt the heat of his body licking her skin as he got closer to her, his arms bending and allowing him to do so. "I can try and make you forget about it, what do you think?"

He patiently waited, knowing that it may seem to her that his request was out of the blue. But she was oh so tempting, and he couldn't stop thinking about her ever since they had left each other after the mine incident. He had never been interested in these kinds of things but somehow she was messing with his internal compass, messing with his mind and reminding him that he was still so full of needs that were left unattended for a while already. And hey, she needed to get rid of those intrusive thoughts, and he wanted her. So he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

"Do you have a condom?" A what now? She let out another sigh, one that he knew he would get accustomed to, and traced the side of his face with the tip of her fingers.

"It doesn't seem like you had sex before." Now he was surprised. For her to say such crude words without any shame but at the same time struggling to tell him off when he was annoying her. And the way he just shut himself off made her assume that she was right (and she was.) "I'm not more experienced than you, but I know a thing or two. And I know that we need a condom."

"Why? It's not like you can get pregnant on your first time?" The high pitched noise that rang through the room as she slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand was way more effective in letting Ace know just how stupid she thought he was than a mere sigh.

"I… don't think that I have the willpower to explain things in-depth to you at the moment." She gently took his hands and sat up to be at the same level as where she believed his face was. "Just know that yes I can, and we won't do a thing without a condom." She plopped herself back in the bed and set herself back to sleep.

"Sleep tight, Ace. Have nice dreams."

He had yet to move from where he was kneeling. She had put an end so easily to the conversation, he was even doubting that it had ever happened. What the hell were those things she knew, and why was he curious to hear about it? But eventually he came back to the problem at hand as he settled too on his side of the bed. "Where am I even supposed to get those?"

"800 students, some of them are bound to develop some kind of physical relationship." He hummed at that, as if to say that he was giving it some thought even if he didn't care about it. "The infirmary must give some condoms to avoid STDs. Or there's a shop on the way here, maybe they're selling some there." Oh so she was telling him where to look for those. As much as he liked the idea of getting close to her —and wow, it was his first time ever wanting someone this much— he didn't trust himself to actually have the courage to buy them. Even imagining getting them was enough of a hassle for him. Having condoms was not his top priority and he was lazy just thinking about them.

"Thanks I guess." Well too bad, they won't have sex. But maybe that was a good thing. He was not one to follow societal wildly spread conceptions (as your first-time was important) but maybe that this once, it wouldn't be a bad thing to listen to them.

_____

He came back the very next day. Condom in hand.

Now, to avoid any misunderstanding, it would be nice to mention that he wasn't desperate enough to get them. If anything he had told himself that he wouldn't get them and that he should just forget about getting more intimate with her.

Yet, it had seemed that his dorm had other plans. His senior, Cater he believed his name was, had suddenly given him a handful of those plastic packages of various sizes. "Riddle's order! Every frosh are to be safe!☆" He had said when he saw how appalled Ace was. It was actually more of the nurse's order after she had chewed Crowley out for the lack of security in the school. He also added that they were to have every size to be sure to have something that fits them, it would be bad if it was too small for them to wear, right? Not every dorm was particularly uptight about this rule, and even fewer of them tried to hand them the right size — so far only Heartslabyul and Pomefiore had made this kind effort. While Riddle wasn't exactly fond of this rule, rules are rules and he still cared for those under him, so he might as well go all out.

Now the school's problem had become his, and he didn't know how to approach her. He was already in front of the rundown building after asking his dormhead the permission to sleep at her place, but how should he bring the subject back? He didn't care about how others may see him, but she was somehow a different story.

After taking a deep breath, he knocked. It didn't take long for the door to open and he cheerfully greeted her, a hand scratching the back of his head. "Hey prefect! You don't mind me crashing at your place again, right?" She stared blankly before welcoming him with a small "sure" that led to a dutiful silence. And this awkward smile on her lips was a nightmare to look at. How could it both drive him away but also stir his heart so badly?

As he entered, he finally saw her lack of clothes. The only pair of pants she had had been ditched somewhere and replaced with shorts that could barely be seen above her dirty white blouse. Upon further inspection, her entire body was painted with black spots and her buttoned up shirt had turned a dark brown with whatever liquid had drenched it.

"Errh, what happened to you?" She looked down at her poor state before becoming even more reserved. He was surprised to see her pouting as she awkwardly pulled at her clothes.

"I was trying to see what was wrong with the water heater, I hate having to shower with a bucket." She sighed as she stretched her back, hands placed on her back as she bent backwards. "But the thing is beaten down, there's no way I'll have hot water any time soon." She whined even louder and great seven, it was the first time he had ever heard her being so genuine! She even sounded approachable. If she kept such extraversion, surely the bullying would slowly soften. She wasn't an opportunist after all, and they would come to understand this.

"If you really need, I can always sneak you in my dorm. You won't mind sleeping with me, right?" The smirk that had formed on his lips paired with the boyish popular facial expression made her giggle. What was he trying to do? Didn't he say that sleeping with her was "meh"? (No offense, she did sense that he was joking) She turned around and walked him to the living room, her shoulders still shaking as she tried to hide her laughter.

He marveled at the state of the parlor. He had last entered it less than a day before, but it was vastly different then what he had remembered! She sat him down as he continued to watch his surroundings. "I tried to clean up a bit but it's still dirty… I'm sorry for the mess." 

"What are you? A perfectionist?" She may have only removed a few paintings and thrown a worn out blanket over the sofa, it was enough for the room to change. "This is good enough." She gently laughed, still not quite sure how to react to the compliment.

Knowing the person Ace was —or at least had a semblance of an idea of it— she tried not to let the silence between them linger and asked him if he wanted to sit so as to not make things awkward. It may have had the contrary effect because he was frowning as he made himself comfortable on the couch. And when she asked if he wanted a coffee to drink he just snapped.

"What are you? An old woman? Stop acting like one, shit. 'Is so fucking boring…" He grumbled the last part and crossed his arms. His annoyed eyes were sending daggers as she was left trying to find her words, mouth repeatedly opening and closing.

She eventually brought her fist up and coughed inside after finally snapping out of her surprise. "So… why did you come here?" She tried not to think much of his words. They only fed her insecurities, but if she were to express them right now, wouldn't it just confirm what he had said? If anything, she had learnt that talking about feelings was considered "boring" by most people her age. "And what's up with the bag?" She tried to change the subject by pointing said object with a finger, but it actually made him uneasy.

He tried to answer, catching himself multiple times to rectify and find the right words before eventually giving up. Instead he gave her said bag. "Condoms." He said right when she opened it.

Much to his displeasure, the silence that they (more like she, he didn't make any efforts so far to make her feel better) had tried so hard to push away all this time had finally found its way in their conversation. She was carefully processing what was before her and by the time she had eventually come to accept what it was, he had become a small puddle of sweat.

"I didn't expect you to have so much in so little time." He blushed furiously at that and took the bag back. He was furious, seething, by what she was implying. He was NOT a pervert! And he wouldn't let her think so! Or that's what he tried to convince himself to think because he sure as hell was more embarrassed about it than angry. After all, it's the exact image he didn't want her to have about him.

But she was far from thinking this and– no, actually, a part of her was impressed by how obsessed and eager he may have been, even if that's not the actual case.

"Hey dumbass! What makes you think I prepared all of these?!" He sat back down, putting all his plastic square packages in between his legs. One hand was tightly gripping his thigh while the other was hiding his bright red face from her. "Some older guy in my dorm gave me those, apparently it's a dorm rule for every student to receive them at the beginning of the year…" His voice barely escaped from his fingers, only managing to come out as an almost indescribable grumbling.

"Then it's a good coincidence for us." She came closer to him and much to his embarrassment, she put a hand in the bag, grazing her hand against and stimulating his growing hard on as she rummaged through it to grab a few of the small packages. She eventually fished out a couple of the condoms, and showed them off to the boy. "So which one's your size?"

"How the hell should I know?"

She deflated at that. "Come on, every boy has measured it at least once. Isn't it important for you all to know about it —so you can compare it in the boy locker room?" The last part wasn't pronounced, but her understood her innuendo. He did actually measure it, but he wasn't going to talk about it so casually. His lack of answer only pulled a sigh out of her, one that quickly made him cower inside the uncomfortable sofa. She had moved to be on her knees, a soothing hand caressing his thighs as she looked up at him. "If you really don't know then I'll have to try each one of them. One by one."

Her fingers started playing with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it open with an ease that almost made him question if she really was new to this. "W- Wait!" He stopped what she was doing by taking her hands in his. She looked at him, fixating on something other than the clothed bulge that was now out for her to see. "What a-are you doing? I- I'm not-... I mean no! I-I a…m actually…!"

She nodded and pulled her hands down against her bent knees. He sighed at her action, but quickly straightened back. There was no way in hell she had understood what he was trying to say, so why was she nodding understandingly. There were many ways for her to misinterpret it, and if she actually did, he didn't know what he would do–

"Ah yes, consent. I understand if you don't want to. I got ahead of myself and thought we were about to do it, I'm deeply sorry for assuming things and—"

He cut her off with an undignified "eeh?!" that made her tilt her head to the side. "Where the hell is this story about consent coming from?" She was about to answer but he shook his head from side to side. "You know what, I don't even want to know." He continued talking, explaining that what he was actually trying to say was his size. Dick size. And that she didn't have to test each condom.

She picked up and ripped a packet of the right size open with a relieved sigh. "I was honestly scared of wasting so much condoms." She took the rubber out and examined it closely before watching the lubricant stretching into a bridge between her fingers. "I've never actually put a condom on something before so it's a first for me." She put it back on the opened package and went back to working with his now rocking hard cock.

"Please don't be too harsh with me."

He gulped down the excess of saliva to try and cool off his face. She was adorable like that, pulling out his member, or more it being freed and slapping her square in the face. She let out a dissatisfied sound as she rubbed her eyes from the precum that had gotten on her eyelids.

"You're not circumcised." She pulled the foreskin down to let the head of his cock free for her to see. If the precum was a lot before, now that the tip was out in the open, she could see just how much of a mess it was. She hummed as she circled the hole at the very top of it and enjoyed each of his twitching. "I've never seen an uncircumcised one so close… but don't worry, as long as you're clean, I'm down for you." She let out a string of "hehe" that made his blood pump faster. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back so that she could directly connect her eyes with his.

"Stop joking around already." She agreed to do so in a tone that almost made him question whether she would really do it or not, and went back to her forgotten condom.

She recited, one by one, every step needed to put a condom on under her breath, guiding herself into doing it as Ace visibly didn't have much knowledge. Once it was done, she brightened up and happily clapped his thigh, which made him hiss with pain.

"In one go!" She happily said with a proud smile that was all too bright for him. His fingers that were still planted into the root of her hair brought her attention back to the twitching member in front of her by angling it back to where it was at first.

"A-Ah wait… I'm a bit nervous… I've never done this before." But she was only shoved forward as an answer, her cheek planting against his pelvis. His penis was now right before her nose and mockingly staring back.

"Then you'll learn." She timidly sniffed it, something that took him aback.

She pecked it at first, trying to see how it would go, and the first impression being quite good, she switched to small stripes being licked along his shaft. While it was rather tasteless for her, his breath was heavy and his body had become unbearably hot.

He popped a few buttons of his shirt open, letting his chest breath as she moved to the base of his dick where two fingers were tightly pressing it. He didn't expect to feel all of her touches so vividly with a condom on, but she had once again found a way to surprise him.

His fingers moved from the back, where he painfully was gripping the small hairs along her nape, to the top of her head when she finally shifted her attention back to the tip of his shaft. A hand still lingered at the base where she kept a tight grip while the other was pumping up and down.

It started with small kisses that quickly became her pumping his cock in her mouth. The first try had left her a coughing mess, but the second was much more successful after making her hand into a fist. He did marvel for a second at the technique, wondering if it would actually work, but his mind went into shambles when the warmth of her cavity wrapped his lower half in a steamy hug.

She tried to peek up at him, wanting to see his facial expression, but couldn't do so as his hand only but pressed her further down his aching shaft. Later, when he would cum inside the plastic protection, she would have the time to see it as he would bask into his aftermath.

And it may have come earlier than what she had expected because he removed himself from her mouth not long after. He fisted his rod as he kept her in front of him. Was it because he wanted to get off to her face or because he imagined her covering with his cum? He didn't know, but both were good endings for him.

He eventually came, the condom swelling with the amount of sperm he had let out and she just watched, fascinated, as it did so. He came rather fast, but she was not worried at all, and she was ready to comfort him if he ever felt down about it. It was normal for a first-time, and she was more curious about the taste than the time.

"Was it good?" She asked as she started to take the condom off. She carefully carved the sight of his flushed face, drooling and seemingly fucked out of his mind, in her memories. She was not one to masturbate, but this image could only become a great fantasy for her to get off to for the next following days.

He let out a small moan as he stretched his back and tilted his head down to see what she was doing. "Yeah, I didn't expect it to be so good actually." Thankfully he had finished his words in time, she had started to remove the condom, and he feared just how embarrassing it would have been if he had to explain why he had stopped talking halfway through. She was pushing every last bit of his cum out of the plastic and onto the tongue she had stuck out.

A humm left her as she swallowed it all, a thumb passing over her lips and chin to pick any leftovers before popping it inside her mouth. "It's kind of sweet. You should watch your diet." He groaned as she merely laughed.

"Shut up. I'm not here for diet advice." His words only made her laugh harder.

But she quickly came to a stop. "Ah wait, that was a bad move."  She got up and dusted herself with a sigh under his curious eyes. "You can still get STDs by swallowing semence."

"Are you implying that I have STDs?" It seemed to get on his nerves, and she quickly tried to reiterate her words.

She sat on his legs and shook her head. "No, but there's always a possibility even if you're a virgin." For whatever reason, the last word made him frown even more. Why do boys his age have to be so hard to work with? His ego was truly something else. "There's also a possibility that I have those, so don't take it as something personal. I'm just trying to make you pick up good habits."

But he didn't listen. Now that she was on him, he could feel her warm and dripping cunt on his limp manhood. Even with two layers of clothes, it was impossibly wet and coated him with her juice. He had put two hands on her hips as she was talking and had started to grind her against him.

She quickly saw what he was doing and gently wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back to press her chest against his open one. "You've barely come a minute ago, shouldn't you wait before going back to it?" But he merely groaned as an answer and buried his face in the junction of her neck.

He continued his movements, which have been gradually increasing in force, as her heavy breath picked up with the pace and blessed his ears.

Still pressed against him, she slid to fingers in-between their body to continue his previous work. The last buttons of his shirt were popped open and she removed the piece of cloth from him.

"Aaah… W- Wait…" she gently pushed her hands against his chest and backed from the rod grinding against her. "We need another condom." He mindlessly nodded but felt awfully frustrated when her fingers left him to search for a new piece of rubber.

She did the same as before after opening the package, saying aloud what she was doing as she pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it over his shaft.

He curiously watched as she raised herself above his rocking hard erection, her expression rather unsure and her bottom lip tightly grasped in-between her teeth. "Uh, shouldn't I prepare you or something." He was not one to care much about others, but surely she wasn't about to put herself through pain, right?

She flushed at his words and nervously tapped his shoulders. "Don't worry… We'll just go slowly." She had thought that he had forgotten about it all. With how uncomfortable she was with her body, she thought it would be best for her to just skip such steps so she could avoid any types of embarrassment. Surely the pain won't be so bad if they were to take their time.

He didn't push her further on, thankfully for her, and she slowly pushed herself against him. And maybe that she should have thought twice about this lame idea because she had to stop when the tip was barely in. The blush on his cheeks came back when she once again pressed her chest to his, except this time hissing and twitching.

A few minutes passed where the two of them were too engrossed in both their current fixation — him enjoying the feel of her clothed breasts against him and her laboured breath, and she, focusing on his fast beating heart, before he came back to the current situation at hand. "Uhh, you're sure you're good?"

"Yeah…Yeah yeah." She mindlessly nodded as she took the chance to continue her way down his shaft. Despite the slight uncomfortable feeling of being full, she had indeed relaxed. She eventually came to a stop when her ass was pressed against his thighs and it pulled a moan out of him that she gladly let her ego feed on.

"Uh, you seem to like it." He didn't answer, his mind far too gone for him to properly care about the comment. He still buried his face in the crook of her neck when he felt her sliding off his cock.

She was using his shoulders as a leverage, two tight hands marking his skin with the crescent shapes of her nails, and slowly pulled herself upwards. At the same time, his face followed the shape of her body that was pressed against him. His nose ended up brushing her clothed breasts. And the material scratching his skin successfully pulled him out of his reveries.

Once she was high enough, the tip barely peeking from her cunt, she went back down. Although more easily this time. Both of their voice resonated in the empty room, and she was thankful that no-one was around to hear them — or at least they didn't make themselves known and avoided the parlour, which was just as good actually.

He was tempted to dig his fingers in the small of her back to switch to a faster pace, but the fabric that was still hiding her upper body was more bothering at the moment. His shaky hands moved to her buttoned up shirt, the way she was bouncing and moaning on top of him almost making him forget about what he was trying to do, and started undoing the buttons one by one. He deemed his mission complete when half of the blouse was open and didn't waste time diving in her breasts to bite and lick whatever parcel of skin was welcoming him.

Her whimpers and hitched breath only increased as shivers would rack her body to the point that she was only but uncontrollably twitching. And when her pace eventually faltered, Ace was sure to take over, two hands grasping her ass and jumping her on his thighs as he continued to shamelessly bite the top of her chest.

The dents of his zipper painfully turned her skin red with every thrust. But in the heat of the moment and the different overlapping sensations, it only further stimulated the coil that was painfully tightening in her lower half and made her voice higher.

She thanked whatever divine being she could imagine, her mind fading to a blank state with each of his trusts inside her and her body so hot that she feared that she would just succumb to it all. Her stomach twisted painfully when his pace suddenly picked up, something that she had never experienced before, and made her wonder if her end was getting closer.

But he stopped right when she felt herself reaching her peak.

He groaned as he let himself rest against the sofa. Now limp, he wasn't maintaining her body up, and she just fell forward against him.

How frustrating it was, her lower half was still pulsating with pleasure, and she couldn't understand why he stopped. "Ace, are you done?" She whispered from his shoulder, where her head was resting. He pressed a hand against his forehead before removing the sweat and hairs sticking on it.

"Uh…" oh he was still very much basking into the aftermath of his climax, and it took a while for her words to be understood by him, she even repeated herself when she heard how lost he was. "Yeah… yeah, shit that was– fucking shit it's-" He tried to utter some kind of answer but his mind was too much of a mess for him to properly think. At least he understood what she said now.

She sighed, tempted to press a kiss against the skin of his neck, but they weren't close enough for her to do it, right? If they were just some kind of one night stand (it's the middle of the afternoon,) they shouldn't kiss, it would be weird, wouldn't it?

She didn't expect her first time to end so abruptly. Yes she didn't hold many expectations, knowing that it would never be perfect, but she was still very upset. She eventually forced herself to think that they weren't even close to begin to even fathom him taking care of her like a boyfriend would, which they weren't.

His half lidded eyes opened wide when she removed herself from him. She had pressed her hand against his chest to help her up, and when his dick fell limp it of her he hissed. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the condom that was full, before focusing on closing the buttons of her shirt. "I'll take a shower first, you'll go after, okay?"

"Why?" Here she was, once again confusing him with her decision.

"You're staying here for the night, continuing the evening clean would be better I think." She's not wrong, but he didn't feel like bathing right now. Yet, before he would voice out his thoughts, she was already closing the door of the parlour behind her. Uh? Why was she so cold? It seemed that she reverted back to her placide and awkward self.

He pursed his lips, annoyed by how the mood just fell flat after her sudden change. As said before, he didn't like holding onto whatever most people deemed as a "social norm", like treating his first-time like something so special that you needed to plan it and idealise it. But her leaving so abruptly somehow sat wrong with him, it even woke him up from his dazed state.

Now he had to wait for both of them to bathe before addressing whatever stupid thing was going through her head. Hopefully it won't take long.

_____

After drinking water and properly washing themselves off of any remaining fluids, they both basked into each other's presence and continued on with their pajama party. He had come late into the afternoon and by the time they had finished cleaning up, the sun was not visible anymore, only a faint gradient of orange and purple was seen.

The bath had been ice cold, thanks to the destroyed water heater, but after lighting the fire in her bedroom's fireplace and placing a few logs inside to keep it alive, it was much more bearable. They both laid on the ground before it, enjoying its heat.

 "Are you bipolar or something?" She turned towards him, surprised to see that he was already looking at her. Even more unexpected, he was frowning. Why was he suddenly pissed? It's not like she had done anything… Or perhaps was it her lack of engagement that brought this sudden behaviour? He did mention that she was boring… And she wasn't making her situation after all. "Just talk instead of creating those weird scenarios in your head." He could clearly see on her face that she was not getting any of what he was saying.

She was lost. Was it not her uninteresting self that was annoying him? "Then… What's the problem?" She couldn't see what possibly annoyed him.

"Can't you guess?" Well obviously, it seemed that she couldn't. She was staring at the ceiling absently, uncertain about what he was expecting from her and how she should fulfill these expectations. "Why did you suddenly close yourself after what we did." Oh.

She awkwardly laughed, what was he talking about? Perhaps was he mentioning the brief moment when she realised that they were not close. But it was the truth, they were not, and she shouldn't have open herself to him in hopes of something more.

"It's nothing, really." Her words did nothing to quell the conflicting feelings inside him. As if she could just end the conversation with only a "it's nothing."

"How about you tell me more about the Great Seven." Despite the proposition coming out of the blue, it was far from some kind of random conversation subject. The mirror above the fireplace reminded her, for some mysterious reasons, of the statues of the seven great figures by the school's entrance. And it was a nice way to get out of the chat he wanted to have.

"Why would I even talk about them?"

"Because I'm too dumb?" She was using his words against him uh? Well at least it seems like she was once again getting comfortable with him if she was able to talk back like this. So he just let it go, hoping that one story would be enough for them to continue their previous talk, but when she answered back with a tale of her own world, it was too late.

Ace was still much more reluctant to keep this peace up, starting a "it's boring" streak (hopefully she would just go back to why she had became so cold back in the living room), but one mention of paranormal stories from her world and she had his full attention. Each and every story somehow managed to catch his attention, so much that they didn't see the time flashing before them.

"Aaaah!" She stretched her back, a long tired moan emphasizing the arch of it, which caught his attention. Hey, now that he was thinking about it, she had yet to show herself to him, as in, he still hasn't seen her naked, did heN?

She jumped when she felt his hand sneaking under her loose shirt and barely grazing her skin. But when she turned around, the only thing she saw, and was surprised by, was his focused face as more and more of her body was shown as he moved it higher. "What… What are you doing?"

He hummed, a mischievous smile on his lips. "You escaped our talk there, lemme take a small revenge~" A moan resonated in the room, tuned out by the crackling of the burning wood before them, when she felt another electric shock coursing through her due to his cold finger. And the sound, almost unheard, still managed to stir the heat in his body. Eh, he might as well just go for another round.

He turned her around, much to her confusion, and pulled her down with him. An involuntary sigh left his lips when he felt her breast against his chest. He used to consider himself an ass person, but clearly his judgement was wrong. Not that he would kill for them, but her breast were definitely becoming his fixation.

"Is there a problem Ace?" He groaned, thrusting his lower half against her as an answer.

"Let's do it again." She let an audible "oh" left her mouth before chuckling, her face hidden in his clothes. He could only feel her body, twitching with the laughter she tried so hard to hide, but it was enough for him to frown. Not that he was displeased and annoyed by her reaction,  but he definitely was.

She eventually calmed down when she heard him muttering something to himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way." She trailed a ginger along his neck, fixating her gaze on the skin peeking under his shirt. "I just didn't expect you to be so eager…" A strangled huff was heard right after. Clearly, despite her apologetic tone she was far from it, her poorly stopped laugh the most obvious proof he could have ever got.

He wanted to retort back, how could she claim being so apologetic then mock him so easily? But his words died when she pressed her lips against his collarbone. And at the contact, they both froze. Did she… just do what she told herself not to do not even an hour before?

Immediately after she threw herself up, flustered by what she just did. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I just… I don't know what came over me…" Her hands were immediately covering her face shamefully, shielding it from Ace. But the boy was far from being concerned about her shyness, the soft touch of her lips was way more comforting than what he could have possibly thought.

But when the silence they were in stretched more than what she knew shouldn't have been, normally Ace would have made a nasty comment by now, she peeked behind her finger so see what was troubling him. Much to her surprise, his cheeks were turning to a deep red, wide eyes staring at her with confusion. "You don't mind what I did?" Her timidity, this time, didn't seem to anger him, far from it, he was even nodding mindlessly.

It was now or never, right? She bent forward once again, her hot breath fawning over his skin a short instant before she pressed another kiss on the same spot as previously. A deep sigh was heard, and his body relaxed right after. It was good, surprisingly, how her touches were like heaven against his skin. He didn't think of himself as a romantic guy, but maybe that he was just trying to fool himself all this time. Because when her lips dragged lower and lower, forcing her to open his shirt, he knew damn well that he was too far gone for her.

And now that he had her draped all over himself, relishing into the way she was covering his body with all types of affection, the fact that they had never once kissed each other suddenly made him restless.

"Hey, prefect." She separated herself from his chest where she was lavishing him with her own praises. The rope of spit connecting his perked up nipple from her lower lips made an uncontrollable shiver run along his spine.

"Hmm?" She sat on his stomach, waiting for whatever he was going to say. But how unexpected it was, for him to suddenly jerk up and press his lips against hers. Just as fast, she moved back, hissing as her teeth throbbed with how hard he had hit her.

"SHIT— That hurts like hell!" He complained while desperately breathing air in as if it would cool his pain down. She put a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention, and only when he looked up could he see the frown on her face as she passed her tongue over her aching teeth.

"Be careful when you're trying to kiss someone." Her hands moved to his cheeks, angling his face towards hers with half lidded eyes. "It's supposed to be a mark of affection, you can't be too rough you know." And with that she pressed her lips against his, more softly than what he previously tried.

Oh he was definitely a romantic now.

The kiss was slow, his fingers finding solace by caressing her sides as her own hands went to his hair, playing with the small tresses that would often pass in the crevices adorning her hands. And one tug was enough to set the temperature higher, the all too familiar burning from their past session returning much harder. His tongue pressed against her lips, pressing against her own when she opened her mouth, and the open-mouthed kiss was the official announcement of yet another round.

The fingers that were exploring her chest grew bolder as they trailed down. Should he grind her against him like he did a while before? Anchoring them on her waist to leave marks testifying that he was here first? It was more than tempting actually, but he was more curious about something else. The kiss was broken so she could bite the back of her hand instead when she felt him grazing her clit. 

Now what was he doing? Why was he suddenly caressing her in a place he had barely even thought about exploring before? While she was left panting over his shoulders, his thoughts swirled with delirious ideas.

Yeah, he was romantic as fuck, and needed to fuck her just as good. She was insecure about her damn body? Then he should just show her how much he appreciated it, and please her in a way that would make her forget about seeing any guy other than him. Maybe that they will drift apart at one point, that she will find someone else to nicely pamper her before fucking her up, but she would never forget about him. He's her first, and she will be obsessed with him till the end.

She was thrown on her bed much to her surprise, or more like a bunch of mattresses on top of one another to make up for the fact that the first one had fallen through the bedframe a few nights before, and he joined soon after. 

Both of his hands dipped inside the blankets under her head as his face got closer to hers. Her face heated up when she opened her eyes to see him above her, a knee parting her legs mischievously before he shifted his body so he could be above her hips. His fingers dragged the loose shirt that she used as a pajama up, and her running shorts were pulled down, allowing him to see her pair of plain panties. Now was not the time to comment on it, he wanted to see how she would react once he was eating her out.

He quickly discarded the piece of garment away from his sight (they were just hanging on one leg) before tentatively blowing on where he thought her clit would be. And lucky him, immediately after she let out a small whimper to let him know that he found it. For a first time he wasn't that bad, huh?

His finger ran along her slit, finding quite easily her hole and pushing two in. Her arousal was enough for them, but he knew that he had to stimulate her a bit more if he wanted to fit one or two more inside. And so, disregarding her sound as he was more focused on a solution to please her, his attention switched back to her clit where his tongue slowly approached it. He was suddenly pressed against it, mouth fully enclosing it as she had taken a handful of his hair and tried to pull him closer.

Her fingers gripped and tugged his hair, frustration ironically eating her out as his tongue was pressed flat against the small bud he was sucking. At the same time, the slender limbs inside her picked up in pace. The overwhelming sensations all building up, the euphoria more present than ever before. Would she come undone in the next few seconds? Most probably she feared, but she was too much into this unholy craziness to allow herself to doubt too much. She was finally coming after all. He didn't left her to fend for herself for too long it seemed, maybe he even cherished her a little like her with him. And the happiness of such meaningless and unproved implications had so easily triggered her release.

His name, strangled, was cried as his head was trapped in-between her thighs that she had involuntarily closed. Despite how uncomfortable it was, he continued to lap at any of her juice his tongue could get, even taking the chance to explore her inside more thoroughly than with his fingers.

When her body eventually relaxed, he took the chance to move away from the warm spot between her thighs. He surprisingly liked it. Her heat, her taste, her skin, her noises, they were way more enjoyable than what he had thought. And his throbbing length was just as enamored.

When he saw her starting to fall asleep, he quickly moved her body around, giving small and painless slaps on her cheeks to keep her awake. "Hey prefect, don't fall asleep now. I still need you." She tiredly hummed, her mind still blurry as both sleep and pleasure claimed her mind. But he could see that she was barely responding.

He groaned as he tried to unbuckle his belt with one hand, the other one pulling her legs apart, and successfully opened it after struggling for a short while. Any trace of tiredness disappeared when she felt him entering her hole eagerly without much foreplay to back him up. Thankfully her previous release was enough to lub him, but the compassion for it was a highly sensitive and overstimulated body.

Her arms immediately joined themselves behind his neck, bringing him closer to her and forcing him to push a hand beside her head. He dragged his shaft back, the motion stealing one of the moans that were quick to build up at the back of her throat, before diving back inside her. The repetitive motion effortlessly broke her sanity, with each of them, paired with her previous climax, her brain became too overwhelmed.

At one point, he pressed back the bulb-like tip against her cunt with a hiss as she was babblering words of affection at him, hoping to make him move faster in her delirious state. Thankfully for her, his mind was just as muddy as hers, and he happily listened to her wishes.

His eyes rolled at the back of his head. He had fully, and unannounced, gone fully in and was squished by her tight warm walls. He felt like they were sucking him more with each twitch of his body, and maybe that was the case as her breath would adorably itch whenever he did so.

She was his. This body overflowing with insecurities and heating up with each passing seconds was his. It was him who had stick his cock so fucking deep inside that she had started babblering some nonsense about how much she loved him. Him who was brushing her cervix with his raw dick. She was the one that had made him wait for him to have some rubbers, but now she was fucked without one just because she was head over heels for his cock.

"A—Awn… So-… Y– You love me?" He wouldn't have tried to tease her a while ago, when she was sucking him off and he had prematurely come, but now that she had lost any bits of reasonable thinking, she was easy to talk to. And the way she was deliriously nodding made him smirk manically.

He slowly slid himself off before slamming back in with a noise that threatened to make any souls passing by cower with fear. She let out a high pitched moan that cut her answer off. She tried to regain herself back, but the sudden and continuous assault only managed to reduce her to a whining pitiful mess. His scent, down to his meat beating her, was too much for her brain to understand what was going on. After a few orgasms, the only thing it wanted was to feel Ace grinding up against her as her body chased yet another one of those releases.

"M- Much!" He hummed back, although it was broken from time to time as he would thrust into her worn down body without any care, to let her know that he was listening. "L— Love you zhis much!" Her slurred speech was barely discernible, but the heart she made with her fingers, hands pressed against the fat of her chest, was enough for him to understand.

And he came just with that.

His sudden hot, almost burning, semence made her shudder and a shiver ran through her body. But she didn't have much time to think about it before Ace laid beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist despite his fluid dripping out of her, he was not bothered. Far from it actually, he was quite proud about it.

When looked down at her, he was not surprised to see her already sleeping with tears already drying on her skin. She was definitely tired, and even if she had made a fuse earlier as she had asked him to take a bath, exhaustion had made sure to hit her before she could even think about it.

He was tempted to chuckle but stopped himself from doing when a yawn was forced out of his mouth instead. It was early in the night, barely the end of evening, but he sure was tired. And looking at her peacefully cuddling against him was a nice arguments to get him to close his eyes.

_____

The next morning, quite early at that as the sun barely peaked its nose between the dirty half ripped curtains, Ace woke up to movements by his side as he felt her sliding off the bed. He cracked his eyelids open, but the only thing he could make out was her putting on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, his shirt, that had been discarded the night prior. 

She quickly left to go to who knew where, but he wasn't conscious enough to properly think about it. Whatever. He closed his eyes back after some time and tried to go back to sleep. His poor efforts were rewarded by the sound of the door cracking open.

Despite clearly trying to stay quiet, the wooden planks would howl under her weight and he eventually stopped trying after a while.

He reopened his eyes to her, hitching the bed cover up, ready to go back to sleep. He sat up which caught her attention and made her stop halfway through her action. She whispered soft words to him, excusing herself for waking him up, but the way she was bent over, trying to reach out for him as her shirt had moved way pass over her stomach and gave him a clear view of her soiled panties — the waking sun laying a soft blanket of light along the arch of her back, made an all too familiar intensity come back in his lower stomach.

He gripped her hand and pulled her under the cover. A small yelp left her, one that was quickly swallowed by him as he eagerly pressed his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Tongues and teeth meeting one another so early in the morning that she was barely conscious of it all.

A small giggle resonated in the room during the small time he had broken away from her to take a deep breath. The tip of his fingers had found a way inside her shirt, caressing the side of her stomach and leaving a stimulating trail of goosebumps behind them.

His lips went back to hers, but instead of connecting them, he left them hanging near each other teasingly. "Fuck, I want you…" He almost whined as his half awakened cock rubbed against her almost too shallowly.

"It's like 6 in the morning, we should sleep more before preparing for school." But her words fell into deaf ears as his hips moved with more force, his dick pressing against her despite the layers of clothes in-between them to the point where she could almost feel him penetrating her. 

Her breath would be cut by a moan from time to time as she tightly gripped his shoulders. "Don't care about school." One harsh thrust made her bite the back of her hand with how loud her whine was. "I want to feel you again."

And maybe that she felt just the same because it was all it took for her to succumb to him.

When they finished, she could hardly feel her legs with how stimulated she had been in such a short amount of time. Each and every little movement brought the pain back, but it was also a pleasurable reminder of how much she liked it, enough that it almost made her ask Ace for more. Almost. Still it was enough for her to be more forgetful than usual.

Even Deuce had to step in when he picked both her and Ace up for school. He was a blushing mess as he pointed the trail of cum slowly dripping down her inner thigh. And when she had, quite detached at that much to his surprise, hoisted her skirt up to remove it with a piece of tissue, the sight of the ropes of cums desperately clinging between her exposed skin and underwear threatened to make him faint.

He didn't know what happened, but Ace would be sure to hear about his thoughts.

[grumpybabybat]

The Batman/Bruce Wayne (2022) regressor headcanons/sorta scenarios with CG!Alfred cause, yeah.

(Also these are MY personal thoughts and honestly probably projecting, so if you don’t agree with them or think otherwise, thats fine)

The biggest brat, oh my god, Alfred would be so stressed over him, constant “Bruce, please do not put that in your mouth” | “Bruce no, don’t play with the Batarang it’s sharp!”

Fussiest baby ever, never wanting to eat anything, refusing bedtime, try and get him in the bath? expect attempted punches. If he decides to let himself play with toys, my gosh he’ll never wanna put them down.

I don’t know how I personally feel about time outs, but I think bruce would definitely need somewhere to calm down when he gets too upset or overwhelmed.

The rare moments of him being a little teeny without fussing, and Alfred just rocking him and humming lullabies.

Needing Alfred to help him with things but refusing to let him help.

Alfred having noise cancelling headphones, stim toys, and a pacifier on him at all times.

Attached to a very specific blanket and stuffed animal, carrying it around with him all the time, Alfred made the mistake of washing them while Bruce was awake, he had the biggest meltdown, Alfred never did it again.

Alfred is so gentle with Bruce, not matter how upset, fussy, angry, aggressive Bruce is, Alfred is just patient.

Reluctantly being Alfred’s little helper, saying he hates it (he secretly loves it and loves when Alfred tells him he did a good job on folding laundry or watering the plants).

They have plants, a bunch of plants, it started with one but now theres just so many plants.

I think his age ranges would maybe be about 0-7?

Since Bruce hates everyone and everything (/j?) Alfred has a playset set up in the backyard so Bruce can get some outdoor playtime.

I think Alfred has always had a feeling that Bruce regresses, especially after those long nights of patrol and he comes back all fussy and tired and Alfred has to bathe him, i think that Alfred actually did research on regression and then slowly introduced Bruce into it, since Bruce didn’t know what was happening, all he knew is that he felt small and hated it.

Alfred hangs up every. single. drawing on the fridge, every single one, Bruce scribbles all over the page with crayons, Alfred is praising him and sticking it up on the fridge.

Probably a huge crybaby but hates crying in front of people (Alfred is the only exception) all the ouchies and boo-boos have him in tears, with Alfred giving him kisses and little bandaids with bats on them.

Definitely whines, like all the time, over everything.

Hates to go shopping but Alfred doesn’t trust him being home alone, having to hold Alfred’s hand to cross the street and even while in the store, Alfred took his eyes off of Bruce one time for a second, and Bruce was halfway across the store and swarmed by people. (Bruce now wears a face mask and a little hoodie when they go out to hide his face)

Will put anything and everything in his mouth, Alfred has grabbed chewed up TV remotes from him before.

Follows Alfred around everywhere, Alfred pointed it out once and Bruce got so flustered and upset, saying he doesn’t, but he absolutely does. He loves being close to Alfred, feeling safe around him.

Probably chews his fingers and nails when upset, or scratches himself, Alfred tried to put lotion on him and mittens so he’d stop, but he refused it completely.

Nightmares, all the time. Alfred has woken up to screaming, crying, and a scared baby Bruce crawling into his bed. Long nights of rocking and bottles, with Disney movies (Bruce “hates” Disney but will willingly sit down and watch Frozen).

Chasing, Alfred has had to chase Bruce down so many times when he’s grabbed something that he absolutely should not have, or running from something like bathtime, Alfred has considered wearing tennis shoes from how much he has to chase after Bruce.

So fussy over naps but absolutely needs to take naps or he throws more tantrums than average.

Loves to play with and make things with Playdoh, tries to eat the Playdoh.

Calls Alfred ‘Papa, Dada, Baba, Alfred, Meanie, Alfred the Butt-ler/ref’

(Stopping here because I’ve written down way too much)

[timetorace]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞

HI EVERYONE! Writing a short one about today’s race and Charles’ DNF. By the way, this can be a second part of “Late night doubts”. Hopefully you all like it xxx Have fun xxx

ship: charles leclerc x fem!reader.

summary:  You follow Charles to his motorhome after his DNF in Paul Richard. 

warnings: none. Well, French GP 2022? Panic attacks mention, just a mention. 

word count: +1,4K.

This one shot can be a second part (or related to) of “Late night doubts”.

“Oh, no!” You gasped, “No, no, no, no!” You muttered watching as Xavi was trying to explain to Charles how to get back on track. However, a few seconds later, you heard Charles’s rapid and heavy breathing and then a scream of fury. Oh, God. He was really upset. Was it a mechanical failure again? Or was he simply confused? 

You had heard a few minutes before his crash how Charles was breathing rapidly on the radio; it sounded so fast that at first, you overestimated the possibility that he was having a panic attack, but after hearing him scream; he was probably just furious or suffering from the heat and dehydration for deciding not to have water inside the car. You understood he didn’t want to add weight to the car, but they were doing 30 in the environment and you didn’t think that getting dehydrated was the best option. You were worried about the effect, but you understood his decision.

You slid down the side to sneak in the paddock's direction, leaning against the wall of the Ferrari garage entrance, waiting for Charles to return to the marshals. When he walked through the gate, you noticed he still had his helmet on. God, that was never a good sign. It meant he didn’t want to lose him in public and that was never a good thing because Charles was usually unbelievably good at handling the pressures of racing and dealing with the press. The camera followed him as he made his way to his motorhome along with his PR manager. You followed him from a safe distance of a couple of meters so as not to intrude on the TV broadcast and once the camera stayed in the paddock, you jogged to follow him. You gave a sideways smile to his PR manager, who was stationed outside the motorhome, before going inside.

When you entered inside, you saw Charles sitting with his arms on his legs and his hands on his face, clearly distressed by the situation. You just walked up to him and sat next to him in silence. You didn’t think he would appreciate any feelings of pity or pity at that moment. After a couple of minutes, Charles spoke.

“I screwed it up”

“You’re still halfway through the season.” You pointed.

“I can’t keep making these mistakes if I want to be world champion”

“Babe, you still have all the races left after the summer break” You still knew that Charles was going to have to be perfect after today’s race and that Max would have to have car problems or finish second or third. You knew two things: One, that Max Verstappen did not give up so easily wanting the championship as much as Charles, and two, that Red Bull was much more reliable than Ferrari.

“Don’t you understand? World champions don’t make these kinds of mistakes! One thing is the team’s mistakes with the car and another thing is me being stupid and hitting the car against the barriers!” Charles exclaimed, raising his voice.

You raised your eyebrows a little surprised at his outburst, but you didn’t blame him for the rush of emotions he must be feeling. “I know,” you replied simply.

“I’m sorry for yelling” He gave you an apologetic sneer.

“It’s okay” You gave him a dismissive sign “What are you going to do now?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know that eventually, you have to go out and face them all, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine”

“I know I have to, I’m just-” Charles rubbed his hand over his face in frustration “I’m so mad”

“I know, your radio was very descriptive”

“The radio? Did they put the radio on?” Charles asked you before letting out a regretful moan, “Ugh, perfect, just amazing”

“I’m sorry” You apologized even though you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you still felt bad for him.

“I didn’t know it was open”

“I imagined” You knew that he never had an outbreak like this in public and that he directly would have said nothing if he knew the radio was open.

“Did you all hear it?”

You nodded “Honestly, I thought you were having a panic attack from the way you were breathing before you crashed and screamed,” You confessed biting your lower lip

“It was the heat,” Charles complained.

��Now I know, but it seemed like something else” You shrugged.

“Great, the media is going to love this.” He moved to rest his head on your lap. You just started stroking his hair.

“Calm down before going out to talk to them”

“I should have kept it to myself,” He murmured, and you frowned. What did this guy have with keeping his emotions to himself?

“Why? Why are you afraid of showing emotions?”

“I just had a breakdown on international TV,” He let out a sigh closing his eyes at the tranquility of your touch “I just wanted to be alone and the cameras wouldn’t stop focusing on me, I put my helmet back on so I wouldn’t have to talk with no one yet”

He had cameras following him all the time, and you understood the frustration of not being able to do anything without everyone finding out and then asking about it. “I know”

“And yet it doesn’t matter because I just had a breakdown on international television.” Why was he so worried about others knowing that he was visibly angry and distraught? You understood the theme of the image, but there was nothing wrong with showing that he cared.

“You’re human, I think you can afford not to be perfect”

“I can’t believe I keep making the same mistakes,” El moaned.

“We all make mistakes,” you comforted him “You have them now but Max may have them later”

“Between my mistakes and the car’s mechanics, I’m going to end up losing the championship”

“All drivers make mistakes”

“I swear to God that if I lose the championship for Imola and for today I-“

“If you lose it won’t be just your fault, you didn’t lose all those points just because of yourself” He had been carrying the weight of the whole team for a long time and felt responsible for everyone’s mistakes, not just his own. Charles wasn’t being fair to himself.

“Babe, I know it’s no use, but you should be a little less hard on yourself, sometimes things don’t go as expected.” You suggested “Stop beating yourself up”

“Yeah I know, it’s just- it’s just that I feel so stupid right now”

 “You’re not stupid” You shook your head “You’re human” He hit himself hard when he made a mistake and took full responsibility but sometimes things happened and he had to understand that “You have lows like in Silverstone but then everything got better in Austria, that’s the sport, it has ups and downs and you know it, so why do you do this to yourself?”

“If I don’t blame myself, who am I supposed to blame?”

“There is no one to blame, you went off track, those things happen, that’s it,” You shrugged “Now move forward to Hungary”

“I-” He started but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Charles, are you okay? I’m sorry but we have to go now,” The PR manager said through the door.

“Coming!” He responded by jumping up to get out of there.

“Babe?” You called him before it came out. “Remember to breathe, just breathe” He needed to calm down and collect his thoughts before opening his mouth with the press. With a little luck, he was a little calmer now to speak calmly.

“You are amazing, ma belle” He told you, giving you a small smile. At least he was smiling. 

You shrugged “Thanks, I’ve my moments” You answered with a wink before he got out of the motorhome and you took the helmet that Charles had left aside. Everything was going to be fine. He was still in the race for the championship. Charles just had to remember to breathe.

[aveegrex]

MAGNETIZING

Eustass Kid overstim prompt. Don't mind me, I know a kinky pain slut when I see one.

genre: smut word count: 0,5k pairing: subbish eustass kid x gn!reader

cw: sub-dom dynamics, overstimulation, sounding, bondage, gagging, sub!Kid, dom!reader, teasing,

His forehead sweaty, thick thighs splayed over a chair seat, Kid huffed, mind and eyes hazy of overstimulation. He whined, tugging on his restraints, drool escaping his mouth through a ring gag.

"No, no, baby. - your distant chuckle reaching his reddened ears. - Again"

He felt his cheeks dampening and made an effort once more, a thick metal rod gliding out of his cock halfway before diving back in. If it wasn't for tears in his eyes and absolute cotton candy for his brain, he'd be frightened seeing how your pupils dilated at the sight of him abusing his devil fruit powers.

"Good, very good. - he hears you taking a sip of your wine and another jolt of electricity pinches his groin, angry red tip of an angry red boy twitching. - Now out. Slowly"

He blinks, hard, trying to focus his sight on you only to groan as he sees how laid-back you are, watching him like a damn museum exhibit with your smug grin and crossed legs. Fuck you and your allure, fuck that, it's pissing him off but what's even more maddening is a fucking iron grip you have on his will. He knows no matter how hard he tries, he'll do as you please and be an obedient fucking boy about it. You taught him that the hard way.

The rod in his cock slowly frees the urethra, heavy steels dragging oh so sweetly, and he prays that now you'll let him get it all out. It's too much, cum boiling in his balls, his pulse thumping in his temples and he craves that elusive release. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter, almost, almost..

"Stop" - and he cries, drool dripping on the flushed chest, his lipstick smeared on the crimson cheeks. "The bigger the brat, the longer the play, remember?"

He nods feverishly, arm veins bulging of tension behind his back. His head drops down and he concentrates all his remaining will on leaving those measly ten grams of steel inside his dick, soiled rod all out and proud hovering above his length.

"Shhh, shhh. - he feels a soft hand rubbing on his cheeks and keens towards it, tears running down his face uncontrollably. - Hold it, baby, hoooold it, just like that".

''Now out" - and an ugly gurgled scream bubbles up his throat, a heavy slap on his cheek accompanying the spurts of cum from his tip. He hears the rod dangling on the floor but his mind is blank, pleasure coursing through his body like a lightning, making him shake and choke on his own spit.

"Good boy. - your lips ghosting over his forehead as you untie him. - So so good for me, yeah?"

He smiles, fucked out eyes foggy and a dumb smile adorning his lips. "Next time, let's try to make it to five minutes, yeah?"

Yeah. No matter how hard he tried, your iron grip never succumbed to his magnetism.

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, I need an angry himbo to practice my sweet tortures on

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