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clarisse0o · 27 days

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Camp Wiegman-Part 50

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

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Friday, February 12 - At Jenni’s place.

I bite my lip to stifle my smile. The image Lucy presents is funny, but I don't want to make her scowl worse. It’s the first time I’ve seen her so impatient, tapping her best friend’s car hood.

“They’re obviously late,” she grumbles.

“They’ve only been gone ten minutes. They’ll be here soon.”

“It’s not funny,” she growls. “Stop smiling like that.”

My smile fades instantly; I don’t want to annoy her any further. Our vacation isn’t starting as I had imagined. Lucy’s been grumpy since I met up with her. She had a terrible morning, having to supervise a first-year student who was punished and left out in the rain. I hope she’s tougher than me and doesn’t fall sick. She was so chilled at noon that she had to stay under the shower for over fifteen minutes to warm up. We planned to leave right after our classes to have lunch in town with Alexia and Ingrid, but we ended up grabbing a sandwich to eat at the airport because we were short on time. It was a good decision, because even though Mapi’s plane was delayed, she managed to get out before we finished eating. Miraculously, we arrived on time for the meeting we had planned with Lucy’s friends. If we hadn’t, I can’t even imagine how Lucy would have been, seeing her already so wound up now. We were supposed to leave at 2:30 PM, but Jenni supposedly lost her phone in the apartment. Seeing Lucy’s worsening state, Alexia decided to go up and help Jenni search for it. I suggested to Lucy that we step outside to get some air to calm down, but it was a bad idea once our friends waiting in the other cars started teasing us by honking.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Calm down.”

I was about to put my hand on her back but held back when I saw her dark eyes. The others are openly mocking us. We decided to take three cars to avoid being crammed together with our luggage. Mapi is sharing a car with Ingrid and Aitana, who’s driving. As for the second car, there’s Mary, Caroline, and Beth. As for us, we’re riding with Jenni and Alexia. Lucy draws my attention with a sigh.

“I need a hug,” she mutters.

I smile as I open my arms to her. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. This time, I gently rub her back.

“Come on, relax. We’re on vacation. We’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”

The week was tough. We were distant from each other most of the time. I didn’t understand the feeling of missing her, but according to Lucy, it’s just because it’s still the early stages of our relationship. We need to find a balance, and she’s probably right. It only made me more eager to finally be on vacation.

“Hmm... You’re right. I’m sorry for being so unpleasant.”

“You’re allowed to have a bad day.”

She nods before giving me a chaste kiss. The moment doesn’t last long as she returns to nuzzle into my neck. We stay like that until our friends return. Jenni is driving, so Lucy gave up the front passenger seat to Alexia and sat in the back with me. She’s the first to get into the car when they return.

“Did you find it?” I ask Ale.

“Yeah, it’s all good. How’s Lucy doing?”

“Not great, but she’ll be fine,” I reassure her.

“I hope so.”

I nod with a small smile to reassure her. I’m not worried about it. The ride will probably calm her down. I join Lucy in the back. The first thing I notice is that she’s moved my backpack that I had placed in the middle and also took off her jacket. Seeing this, I follow suit, figuring she’s right to make herself comfortable given the long drive ahead.

“How many hours do we have left?” I ask, thinking about it.

“A little less than 6 hours, I think.” Lucy says

“Could be worse,” Jenni replies as she settles in.

She also takes off her jacket. Something tells me they’ve traveled together a lot before, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. The GPS she activates pulls me out of my thoughts as it starts speaking. We’ll be the ones leading the way thanks to it. I realize I didn’t bring my headphone, but I quickly forget this detail when I hear the music playing. Jenni left the radio on with current hits. It’ll fill the silence since Lucy doesn’t seem to want to talk.

“Can I lie down?”

I’m surprised to hear her speak. She’s pointing at my lap, and I quickly understand her intention. I’m not sure how she plans to do it, but I nod in affirmation.

“Of course,” I confirm. “Come here.”

She unbuckles the shoulder strap of her seatbelt, leaving only the lower part fastened, then takes off her shoes and leans heavily against me. We shift to find our positions, and once we do, I hold her close, intertwining our hands. My free hand gently rubs her stomach in slow circles, which seems to soothe her judging by the long sigh she lets out. This week was pretty disastrous. If we didn’t share a room, we would have barely seen each other since she was so busy. The fact that she doesn’t want any affection during the day doesn’t help either. Plus, I had to meet with Wiegman. She wanted to make sure my night troubles were improving, and she confirmed that I’d be returning to my room after the holidays. I need to make the most of Lucy during this vacation. Looking up, I catch Ale’s reflection in the sun visor. She smiles at us, making me blush. This is the first time she’ll see us interact so closely, especially as a couple. I turn away and grab my scarf to use as a pillow against the window. Lucy, already dozing off in my arms, grumbles at my fidgeting. I apologize and stop moving. My head trembles slightly against the window, but not enough to be bothersome. I finally exhale softly, closing my eyes with a small smile on my lips as the car finally starts moving.

Friday, February 12 - Hotel.

I jump slightly when a hand touches my cheek. I look around, almost bumping into Lucy, who had finally slumped over me. The car is empty except for the two of us. She gives me a reassuring smile.

“We’re here.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” she giggles. “It’s not a myth. You really sleep like a log. I didn’t dare wake you.”

I blush at her remark. I realize I had fallen asleep again for the entire trip. I imagine she didn’t.

“I don’t want to get up,” she tells me. “You’re really comfortable.”

“It’s not surprising with all this fat,” I joke.

Lucy gently smacks my thigh with a stern look, making me yelp in surprise.

“Don’t ever say that. It’s not true.”

She grimaces as she sits up. The position must have given her cramps. She swears as she stretches and unbuckles her seatbelt. I do the same, putting on my jacket and scarf.

“Bundle up well. It’s cold outside.”

I nod, agreeing with her. From what I can see, there’s a thick layer of snow outside. As soon as the door opens, a frigid gust invades the car. To think that in Manchester, everything was starting to melt. Here we are back in the snow. I smile at Mapi, who comes to greet me as soon as I step out.

“Did you sleep through the whole trip again, sleepyhead?” she teases.

“No using that nickname, it’s mine,” grumbles Lucy as she steps out of the car too.

I stifle a laugh when I see Mapi roll her eyes nonchalantly. From the latest updates I’ve gotten, the two have been getting along better thanks to Mapi’s support for my girlfriend. This only makes me happy. I was really worried about the opposite. Luckily, Mapi doesn’t push her on the subject. I would have sided with Lucy. She doesn’t give me many nicknames, so I plan to let her have exclusivity if that’s what she wants. For the past few weeks, she’s been calling me "princess" or even "baby" or "sleepyhead." These nicknames make my heart flutter. They really make me feel like we're together. It's not easy to realize that since we maintain a teacher/student relationship at school.

"Can you help me, baby?" Lucy calls as she takes out our suitcases.

"Yep," I reply, confirming. "See you later," I say to Mapi before leaving.

I help her with the last of our things before joining our friends, who are chatting at the entrance, waiting for us. We all go inside the lobby together to escape the cold, and I must say, we make quite a group, especially with the other girls. The place looked large from the outside, and now that I'm seeing the reception area, I find it stunning. It's a mix of modern decor and a chalet style, thanks to the wooden accents. I stay aside with Alexia and Mapi while Lucy goes up to the reception with a few friends. We have five rooms in total—one for each couple, and the last two will be shared by the four single girls.

"I think the receptionist has a little crush on you," Mapi teases.

I stop my observations, realizing she's talking to me.

"Huh? No way."

"No, I think she's right. He keeps glancing at you," Ale giggles.

I roll my eyes at their teasing. He’s going to be disappointed when he sees me in Lucy's arms later. I don't really plan on hiding my relationship with her during this trip. All our friends know about us, so there's no reason to. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I feel compelled to take a quick glance at him to see what he looks like. He was indeed looking at me, but when our eyes met, he quickly looked away. He seems to be around our age, if not closer to Lucy's age. I turn back to the girls, who are talking about how great this week is going to be. They say it’s going to be awesome, and I quickly agree before Mapi nudges me.

"What?" I groan.

"You're the one she's calling 'sweetheart.'"

"What are you talking about?"

I frown, following her nod toward Lucy. She’s waiting for me a little farther away, shaking our room key.

"Oh," I say, blushing. "See you later, then."

"Yeah, sure," my best friend mocks.

I grab my suitcase and roll it over to Lucy. She tilts her head and holds out her hand when I reach her. I take it without thinking.

"Did you call me 'sweetheart'?" I ask, feeling shy.

"Hmm," she smiles. "Do I not have the right?"

"Yes, yes," I say, blushing again. "It’s just new."

"True," she laughs. "I can stop giving you nicknames if you prefer."

"Oh no, no. I like it. It was just... unexpected."

"Alright," she laughs. "I'll make sure to continue if you like it. Come on, let’s go up."

"And the others?"

"We're meeting at the restaurant at 6:30."

"Oh, okay."

I glance back at the others for a moment before following Lucy to the elevators. She calls one with a button.

"Do you know if our rooms are next to each other?"

"I don’t think so, but they’re on the same floor."

"And where are we?"

"Room 322, on the third floor."

"Cool."

We step into the elevator, letting go of each other's hands as we turn around. I catch a glimpse of the lobby, where I notice the young receptionist watching us with a new look of embarrassment when I catch him.

"The girls think the receptionist has a crush on me," I share with amusement.

"Oh really?" she smiles. "Too bad for him that you're already taken."

I smile as she pulls me close and kisses me just as the doors close. Oh yes, I’m already taken by the most wonderful person. The doors open to our floor. We easily find our room, which Lucy unlocks. She had shown me photos on the computer, but the reality is much better. It's beautiful. Like the lobby, the room has a chalet style. Everything is made of oak wood, with anthracite gray walls that contrast with the light wood beams. It’s not very big, which makes the space feel cozy. I’m thrilled to share it with Lucy for a whole week. A huge bed, which looks super comfortable, takes up the middle of the room. Opposite it, there’s a TV mounted on the wall that I can’t resist touching.

"Don’t touch everything," Lucy scolds.

"But look, it moves."

I tilt it from right to left to show my discovery, making Lucy laugh.

"I know, baby," she says, taking off her jacket and placing it on top of her suitcase.

Ignoring her, I continue exploring the room. We have a sitting area with a sofa and an armchair, and there’s even a small terrace. When I turn around, I quickly join Lucy, who is in the bathroom. It’s slightly bigger than the one Lucy has at Camp Wiegman. There are double sinks, a shower, and even a large bathtub. I can already see myself relaxing in there. Lucy’s arms wrap around me from behind. I smile as she unzips my jacket. I lean into her to make it easier.

"A whole week just for us," she murmurs.

"Yeah."

I’m living in pure bliss. I step away slightly so she can slide my jacket off my shoulders. I take off my scarf myself and take my jacket to place it with my suitcase, which I had left by the door.

"Shall we unpack?"

"If you want, but there’s only one wardrobe."

"Is that a problem?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head. Oh no, not a problem at all. It’s more like a dream come true.

"No... We can share it."

"Good," she smiles. "It’s strange, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, totally," I giggle.

It’s unconventional, just like our relationship. We’re going to experience a lot of firsts here. The first thing is unpacking our things in this wardrobe. When we’re done, we still have a little time before heading down. So I flop onto our bed, spreading out like a starfish.

"Your shoes, sweetheart."

A smile spreads across my face, now that I’ve heard it. The situation doesn’t seem to amuse Lucy as much, judging by the look she’s giving me. I feel like a little kid sometimes.

"What’s making you smile like that?"

"The nickname. My God, the effect it has on me."

She raises an eyebrow with a small amused smile as I laugh.

"That doesn’t change the fact that you need to take off your shoes."

"Say it again, and I’ll take them off."

"That’s called blackmail."

"It’s not much. It’s either that, or you take off my shoes yourself."

"Fine, but it’ll cost you."

I hold out my foot with a silly grin. She takes off one shoe, then the other, letting them drop to the floor. Hers quickly join mine before she unexpectedly lies on top of me. I groan because she wasn’t delicate at all. Luckily, my bruises don’t hurt as much anymore, or I might have screamed in pain. She giggles as she kisses my nose.

"Sorry for being grumpy earlier."

"Don’t apologize. You have the right to be. You didn’t have the best morning," I say as I gently stroke her hair.

"You’re right, but still," she mumbles before sighing contentedly against my neck. "You didn’t need to put up with it."

She kisses my jaw softly before moving down to my neck. If she plans to apologize like this every time, I’m going to tell her she can be grumpy more often. In just a few weeks, she’s already discovered that this is one of my weak spots, at least from what she’s explored. She’s gotten into the habit of inflicting this sweet torture on me whenever she gets the chance in her room. I let out a surprised gasp when I feel her teeth nibbling at my skin before she sucks it between her lips.

"What are you doing?" I panic.

"Something I’ve never done but always wanted to try..."

"You’re not serious!"

I laugh as she continues. I don’t even try to push her away. Her hair tickles the tip of my nose. I let her finish as she soothes the small bite with her tongue. She kisses it before propping herself up on her elbows to admire her work with a proud smile.

"So, are you happy now?" I chuckle.

"Not bad for a first time," she laughs. "At least the receptionist will know you’re taken."

"I think he already figured that out, you know. Is this really the first time you’ve done that?"

"Yeah," she smiles.

"And you should know this is the first time I’ve ever gotten a hickey too."

"Really?" she raises an eyebrow. "I thought Mapi would’ve done that already."

"She did... But not in visible places, you see..."

"I’d rather not know. »

I bite my lip, understanding perfectly. Maybe this isn't the best topic for us to talk about together. She captures my lips one last time before standing up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get ready. We need to head down soon," she informs me as she heads into the bathroom.

"Oh..." I sigh. "Maybe we should've taken a vacation just for the two of us after all."

I hear her laugh from the other room, which makes me smile.

"You say that, but you'll be the first one who doesn't want to leave at the end of this week."

"You're probably right."

"I am right," she asserts. "You love spending time with your friends just as much as with me."

"It's frustrating how well you know me."

I hear her laugh again. I decide to join her, leaning against the door frame. She's just closing her makeup bag. She’s put on some lipstick and probably a touch of mascara. I blush, thinking she looks stunning.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks with a teasing smile.

"Nothing... Just that you're very beautiful."

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself," she compliments me, smiling even more.

I clear my throat as I straighten up. I'm not used to openly expressing what I think, and even less so to accepting compliments. Lucy seems to understand this because she changes the subject.

"Should I leave you the bathroom?"

"Please."

We switch places, and she takes the opportunity to plant a kiss on my lips. She stays by the doorframe while I touch up my makeup. Suddenly, she seems deep in thought.

"What's on your mind?" I ask.

She takes a soft breath and shrugs.

"I feel a bit guilty. I compared you a lot to Kiera at the beginning."

I stop what I’m doing. It's the first time she's mentioned Kiera since the night we got together. I never pushed her because she never did it with me, but I wanted her to bring it up at least once. It’s important that we talk about it. I just didn't expect her to do it now.

"Why feel guilty? I don’t blame you. We’re somewhat alike. We were both junkies," I joke.

She shakes her head and sighs. It seems my joke didn't have the intended effect. I move closer to her and place my hand on her cheek. She lifts her head with a sad expression on her face. I begin to wonder just how much she thought we were alike. Seeing her like this tugs at my heart. The emotions she's experiencing are pure sadness. I don’t know how to react. Normally, she’s the one who reassures me.

"Exactly. I was scared when you’d go home. Kiera never wanted to stop, even after she tried to quit. She kept going back, again and again, and I was so terrified it would be the same with you."

I have tears in my eyes as she begins to cry in front of me. I've never seen her like this. She usually controls her emotions so well. Her broken voice shows me just how deeply all of this affected her. Panicking, I desperately kiss her. My gesture seems to be well received by the way she returns the kiss. I end up pressed against the furniture, and our exchange is rough. I wrap my arms around her neck to pull her closer.

"I'm so sorry," she says between sobs.

"Hey, shh," I say, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "It’s okay, alright? Please stop, or I'll start crying with you."

She chuckles, resting her forehead against mine. I realize she just needed to let it all out.

"I'm not Kiera. It’s not your fault that she didn’t want to be saved. I promise you, drugs and I are definitely over. You’re the only thing I could ever want—"

I stop, realizing what I’ve just said. Did I really just say that? Lucy laughs, making me aware of the weight of my words.

"I-I... That’s not what I meant," I stammer, blushing.

"Yes, it is what you meant," she teases.

"It’s embarrassing," I say, looking everywhere but at her, which makes her laugh.

"Baby, I’d be worried if you didn’t want me or if you were thinking about someone else... That’s not the case, right?"

"No," I chuckle. "You’re the only one."

"Hmm..." she says with a playful tone. "You’d better be."

I gasp when she tugs on my earlobe. Unintentionally, I rise onto my tiptoes. She takes advantage of it to press me harder against the furniture. She moves down to my neck, continuing her sweet torture. Damn, she’s good at this. I realize our situation when a moan escapes me.

"I— Luce... Please."

My desperate plea makes her stop immediately.

"Are you okay?"

"I... Yeah... I-I just need to finish up so we don’t end up late."

She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Sorry, I got carried away."

"Oh no, don’t worry."

"No, I’m sorry. I promised to take it slow, and I intend to keep that promise."

I sigh, nodding. She noticed my struggle, and I feel a bit guilty.

"If it’s something you want—"

"No," she shakes her head. "We don’t need to rush things. You went through a tough time, so we’ll take it slow. Anyway, we’ve only been together for two weeks. We need to get to know each other."

"You’re right."

"As always," she smiles.

She kisses me before pulling away suddenly, leaving a void I never thought I’d feel.

"Hurry up and finish. The quicker we’re downstairs, the sooner we can get back to our bed."

I smile, watching her leave. I guess that means our conversation is over. I quickly finish getting ready before joining her in the bedroom to put my shoes back on.

"Can I borrow a sweater? I’m starting to get cold."

"You didn’t bring one?"

"I’d like one of yours if you don’t mind," I say, biting my lip.

"Of course not. Help yourself," she says, nodding toward the wardrobe.

I quickly find a plain black wool cardigan that matches my sweater. Once I’m ready, we finally leave our room hand in hand. Lucy keeps the keys, and I fully intend to let her take care of that for the entire trip. I’d probably lose them. We arrive in the lobby. Lucy guides me toward the hotel restaurant with her hand on my waist. It’s the first time we can act as a couple in a week, and I plan to savor these moments.

"Have you been here before?" I ask her curiously.

"We came here last year. We liked it so much that we decided to come back."

"Did you bring someone...?"

"I was in a relationship, but no."

I don’t hide my pleasure. I’m the first person she’s brought here. I feel special. A waiter greets us upon our arrival. Lucy asks for the table that Jenni reserved for us. Once he finds it, he leads us there. Only Jenni and Alexia are already seated.

"I thought you’d be the first ones here," Jenni says. "You’re slipping, Luce," she teases.

"I have a girlfriend who’s not very punctual," she laughs.

"Hey! It wasn’t my fault this time! Besides, we’re on time, and it’s been a long time since I was last late."

"Thanks to whom?" she brags.

"I’m not going to respond to that provocation."

She chuckles as I slide onto the bench next to Alexia. Lucy takes the last available spot on the bench.

"Did you two get settled in well?" Jenni asks.

"It seems they did..." Ale hints with a smug smile.

I don't immediately understand where she's going with this until I see her staring at my neck. I blush and pull up the collar of my cardigan to hide Lucy's hickey. I regret not thinking to bring a scarf. Her smile widens, but she doesn’t say anything that might make us uncomfortable. We start chatting while waiting for the others. Lucy has decided to stick close to me tonight. Her hand rests on my thigh. I take advantage of this position by leaning into her as she talks mostly to Jenni. It’s clear they share a deep bond by the way they interact. Her friends gradually join us, bringing with them a lively atmosphere. Of course, the last ones to arrive are Mapi and Ingrid, who sit across from us.

“Now you know why I’m always late,” I say to Lucy. “Mapi’s the one who made me like this.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, Lucy, instead of criticizing me, can we talk about how you went wild on my best friend? You're lucky she let you. I didn’t get that kind of treatment.”

I kick Mapi under the table, and she doesn’t hide her pain. I can’t believe she’s talking so openly about our relationship in front of our two girlfriends.

“Did you two date?” Aitana asks.

“Yeah, we were together, and I’m kind of annoyed to know that some people get more privileges than others!”

This time, she gets a smack on the back of the head from Ingrid.

“You're playing with fire, Girl. You’d better drop this conversation if you don’t want to sleep on the floor tonight.”

I bite my lip to suppress a smile when I see Mapi’s dismayed expression. This relationship must be quite different for her compared to her previous ones. Contrary to what I might have thought, Ingrid isn’t someone who can be easily pushed around. It’s surprising because I’ve always known Mapi as the dominant one in her relationships. That was the case with me, as she initiated everything, and I got the impression it was the same with Ana.

“Sorry, honey.”

“Hmm... Sure.”

“Hey, relax, guys,” Ale interjects. “Aren’t we here to have a good time?”

The girls across from us remain slightly tense until a waiter arrives to take our order. It’s the receptionist from this morning. He smiles at me timidly, but I don’t pay much attention.

“What are the specials again?” Ingrid asks.

“Uh, well…”

He flips through his little notebook. I deduce he’s a trainee from the way he’s handling things. He lists all the specials he’s noted down. Some of them sound pretty good.

“The first one was white wine, right?” Mapi asks.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replies. “It’s slightly sweet, if that’s what you like.”

“Oh! That’s for us, Ona!” she exclaims, looking at me.

“Umm... Yeah.”

“That’ll be two glasses of white wine for the two of us,” Ingrid starts, pointing to Mapi and herself.

Everyone else makes their choices. The girls all opt for beers. Alexia orders the same as the girls, and then it’s our turn. I’m also tempted by the wine, but I’m not sure Lucy would appreciate me drinking alcohol.

“Scratch the glasses and bring us a bottle of white wine with five glasses,” Lucy beats me to it.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She smiles at me, gently stroking my hair.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Would you prefer something else?”

“Oh no, no… I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“As Alexia said, we’re here to enjoy ourselves, right?”

“You’re right... Thank you.”

She smiles before kissing me. It’s the first time she’s kissed me in front of her friends, so it throws me off a bit. When we pull apart, the waiter has disappeared, and the others have resumed their conversation. We join in until the waiter returns with our drinks. I’m so caught up in my conversation with Ale and Mapi that I don’t notice him. But then a cold liquid splashes onto my thighs, making me jump.

“Sh-shit, shit, shit!” the waiter mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry! It was an accident!”

“Damn it…” I sigh, standing up.

Drops are dripping onto the floor; I’m that soaked. He spilled the entire bottle on me. I’m going to smell like wine all evening because of him. Luckily, I’m not wearing anything white. Another waiter who saw the scene quickly comes over to scold the trainee, who starts to panic.

“I’m sorry, I’ll help you,” he says, stepping forward.

“I’ll take care of it,” Lucy intervenes, gently pushing him away.

I give him a sympathetic smile to reassure the trainee a little after my girlfriend’s attitude. On the other hand, I’m relieved that Lucy stepped in. It’s not like I would have been comfortable with strangers touching me. He takes a few steps back with a crestfallen look while Lucy wipes my pants with napkins.

“Please excuse him, miss. He’s new, still in training. He’ll be severely punished, I assure you.”

“It was an accident; it happens,” I say to lighten the mood.

I lower my eyes to Lucy, who sighs. Our eyes lock immediately. For a moment, I fear that grumpy Lucy is back. I run my hand through her hair at the nape of her neck to relax her. Her muscles do indeed loosen under my hand.

“You need to change. Otherwise, you’ll reek of alcohol all night.”

“Okay, I’ll go up.”

“Can we at least get the cost of a dry cleaning for her clothes?” she asks the waiter.

“Of course, and we’ll bring you a new bottle and offer a second one as compensation.”

“Good. So I suppose this young man won’t need to be fired if that’s what you were planning.”

The waiter simply nods in response to Lucy’s request. I don’t know much about the restaurant or hotel industry, but when something like this happens in movies, it’s usually the punishment that’s expected for the person. So I’m glad my girlfriend took the initiative and saved him from that. I wouldn’t have wished it on him.

“Alright,” she sighs. “Let’s go up.”

I take her hand that she offers and let her lead us out of the restaurant before she changes her mind. We head back to our room. I didn’t expect her to accompany me, but it’s nice of her. The first thing I do when the door shuts is kiss her. She growls, gently pushing me away.

“Take off your clothes before you jump on me.”

“I won’t comment on that innuendo.”

“It’s not my fault you have a dirty mind,” she challenges with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure,” I giggle, unbuttoning my jeans.

I sit down to remove them along with my shoes. I also take off Lucy’s cardigan, which got splashed.

“Can I jump on you now?”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss me again.

“You’re a hopeless case, Miss Batlle.”

“And you’re one to talk? I saw the way you looked at the waiter as we were leaving.”

“He deserved it,” she defends herself. “It’s the least after what he did to you.”

“He’s probably traumatized, poor guy.”

“Whatever. I saved his job, didn’t I? Now, hurry up and change so we can go back down.”

“Hmm... You know you don’t have to worry about him, right?” I ask as I head to our closet.

“Of course. Stop thinking I’m jealous of everyone,” she rolls her eyes, making me giggle.

I put on a new pair of jeans and end up changing into a warmer sweater to replace Lucy’s cardigan. When I’m done, I turn to see Lucy waiting for me on the bed, head tilted. She’s irresistible the way she looks at me. I’m really glad that almost all the scars Korbin gave me have disappeared. I can finally feel at least a little bit pretty for her. I join her to put on my shoes.

“Sorry about your cardigan.”

“There’s no need to apologize. We’ll just send everything to the dry cleaners.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you were such a good negotiator.”

“Now you know,” she smiles. “Let’s head back down.”

I steal a kiss from her before we return to the restaurant. Everything has been cleaned up, and the bottles have been brought out for the girls’ enjoyment. The evening continues as usual until a discreet throat-clearing interrupts us. We all turn towards the receptionist, who looks like he’s in a state of panic.

“I-I wanted to apologize,” he starts, staring at his feet. “Th-that accident shouldn’t have happened… I didn’t mean to offend you or do my job poorly. I was clumsy a-and…”

The poor guy is scared to death. I imagine it’s his boss who sent him over.

“I-I also wanted to thank you for saving my job…”

“There’s no problem,” I reassure him warmly. “It’s already ancient history.”

“We’ll have the clothes returned to you tomorrow morning,” Lucy tells him.

“No, don’t worry about it. The housekeeper will take care of it when she cleans your room tomorrow morning. They’ve already been informed.”

He seems to relax since Lucy spoke. A friendly exchange takes place between them. He then leaves with a small smile on his face. That conversation must have reassured him. Our first evening resumes when a new waiter comes over to take our orders. I get the feeling we’ve become some sort of VIPs.

We were quickly served, and they offered us the aperitif. Conversations resumed about the activities we could do during our stay. I can tell we're going to have an amazing time with everything there is to do here. I plan to make the most of it, especially since this is our first vacation together with Lucy.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #mapi leon #mapi leon x ingrid engen #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso

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thecrystalquill · 1 month

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A/N: Chapter fifteen is finally here! What do you think of the moodboard? Leave a like :) also a quick note, I won't tag anyone who doesn't like the series - I think that's only fair...

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Fifteen ~ Yuletide Shenanigans

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall’s office was smaller than she’d expected, but no less grand. The heavy curtains that framed the window were a proud Gryffindor red, the walls were lined with a tidy display of shelves, and the table was organised and neat. (Y/N) had been sat in a chair beside the desk for almost fifteen minutes, waiting for her escort. She was beginning to get a little impatient.

She had taken to reading the spines on the shelf when the woman in question finally re-entered, followed by Albus Dumbledore himself.

It was the first time she had ever directly met the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and she would remember it well. He looked older up close, and shorter; perhaps the illusion of his height was simply due to the fact that she had only ever seen him standing on the elevated platform in the Great Hall, making speeches and what-not. His robes were dark blues paired with white, and his hands were crossed in front of him, a bone-coloured wand peaking from behind them. But his eyes were what struck her; sharp and keen despite his age, eyes that had seen so much of the world, and looked at her with a practiced gentleness that hid something deeper.

“Thank you for waiting, Miss Addams.” McGonagall said with a kind smile, and (Y/N) could finally pull her eyes away from the headmaster. “Headmaster Dumbledore has come to see that our travel goes smoothly.”

“Our?”

“It would be irresponsible,” Began the headmaster with a smile as (Y/N) grabbed her coat, “to allow you to travel to Hogsmeade unsupervised.” Dumbledore made his way towards the great fireplace, and brought out a small, black cauldron from its mantle.

“Now, grab your things, dear.” Said McGonagall with a gesture as she approached the unlit fire.

(Y/N) did as she was asked, taking her travel-sized case in one hand and the bat cage that contained a disgruntled young cat in the other, her long black coat draped over her arm. When she followed the woman, she’d expected her to head towards the door, but it seemed the professor had another exit in mind.

“You may be unfamiliar with Floo travel, I presume?” McGonagall asked as she took a handful of grey-green ash from the small cauldron in the headmaster’s hand. (Y/N) nodded and the deputy-headmistress gave her a reassuring smile. “Not to worry, just repeat after me.” She bid a short farewell to Dumbledore, took (Y/N)'s bat cage in hand, and then stepped into the blackened hearth, the top of her hat bending against the entrance. “The Hog’s Head Inn.” She articulated, and with a drop of ash and a flash of green smoke, (Y/N) was awed to see no sign of her Transfiguration teacher at all.

“Now you, Miss Addams.” Dumbledore encouraged and held out a hand for her to shake, then held out the cauldron. “Simply say where you’d like to go and throw the Floo powder at your feet.”

Stepping into the heath with her things in one hand and a fistful of green ash in the other, (Y/N) took a breath and followed the instructions. And in a flash of green smoke, she felt the floor disappear.

When the smoke cleared, the first thing she noticed was the warm light that filled the room. The second, and most welcome, was the scent of harsh sulphur being replaced with cigar smoke. There was only one person she knew that carried cigars with them at all times.

“Cucarachita!” Within seconds, (Y/N) was pulled into the enthusiastic embrace of her father, hugging her so tightly that she almost couldn’t breathe. “Oh, you have been missed.”

“I missed you too, Papa.” She replied, though her voice was muffled through the fabric of his blazer.

After nearly a whole ten seconds, her father finally pulled back to look at her, holding her at arms length to take her in. (Y/N) looked him over, too; his hair was combed back with his potent black cream, his moustache freshly trimmed, and he was wearing a new vest – brown, red, and black (of course) knitted wool, to keep him warm in the freezing Scottish winter. “(Y/N),” he said after a moment, with a gleam in his eye, “what are they feeding you? You’re taller already!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and pushed him away, tugging on the hem of her turtle-kneck. “You’re exaggerating, Father.”

Gomez only laughed and patted her head (much to her disapproval), but was soon distracted by a hand snaking up his arm. “Don’t go keeping her all to yourself now, mon cher.” Her mother interrupted, now standing beside him and getting a good look at her eldest daughter.

“Oh, of course not, cara mia.” Her father replied as he took his wife’s elegant hand into his hold and began pressing kisses into her pale skin.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes – she’d only been there for a minute and already they were all over each other. “Father, please.” She groaned, seeing McGonagall standing to the side with wide eyes. “Can’t you keep your hands off each other for five minutes?”

“If history is any indication – no.” The drab voice of her little sister came from behind, almost startling her (she must have been practising her lurking).

The sisters shared a look, an agreement that they had much to discuss later – in private. “Wednesday,” (Y/N) nodded, receiving a nod back; they hadn’t the most affectionate relationship.

It seemed the greetings just kept coming; Pugsley slammed himself into her for a quick (but extremely tight) hug, Grandmama pinched her cheeks, Lurch smiled and groaned warmly, and even Thing seemed to have missed her with how he ran up to squeeze her shoulder (conveniently, while McGonagall wasn’t looking).

“Well, now that we’re all settled,” Said the deputy headmistress kindly as they all gathered on the couches in the guest sitting room, “I presume that (Y/N) will be spending the holiday here with you?”

“Of course, if she’d like to.” Morticia replied from her seat beside the older woman. “Though, she did mention how she wanted to stay at Hogwarts to keep her friend company.”

“Oh, I see,” McGonagall replied with a hint of confusion, “and who would that be--?”

“—Speaking of Hogwarts!” (Y/N) interrupted quickly, hoping she hadn’t sounded too obviously suspicious. “Wednesday was just telling me how much she wishes she could see it. Right, Wednesday?” She emphasised with a hard look and a subtle nudge.

Wednesday cleared her throat and put down the teacup from her lips, taking the hint. “Right, yes. I said that.” She nodded along, looking to the adults with as much sincerity as she could. “We’d all like to visit.”

“Oh! Can we?” Pugsley enthusiastically asked with a wide grin, sitting up straighter on the floor and staring excitedly at the woman.

“A superb idea!” Their father agreed, leaning forward as well. “What do you say, Professor?

“Yes,” Morticia smiled softly, “it would be so wonderful to see where our daughter stays. Would that be possible, Professor McGonagall?”

McGonagall seemed awfully put on the spot, placing her teacup back on the table to fold her hands in her lap. “Well, it’s perfectly reasonable, I suppose.” She began. “But I would have to discuss it with Headmaster Dumbledore first…”

“I thought you were the deputy headmistress.” Wednesday said slyly. “You need his permission to let us see (Y/N)’s new home?”

McGonagall pursed her lips, not easily fooled, it seemed. “He is the headmaster, Miss Addams. He must be notified on all things that go on in his school.”

“Well then, you can tell him all about it when we get there.” Said Granmama as she rose from her chair by the fire to grab her shawl. “Now, show us that disappearing trick, will you?” She demanded as she walked over to the empty hearth from which they entered. Crazy or not, Grandmama was good at getting her way.

With a composed sigh, McGonagall stood and accepted the insistence. “No need, Ms Addams, I will arrange for a carriage.” She relented, and swiftly left the room to find the owner.

Wednesday and (Y/N) exchanged small smirks as their family discussed among themselves, satisfied with the outcome. So far, everything was going according to plan.

From the moment they stepped out of the carriage, the whole Addams family had hardly stopped gasping, pointing, complimenting, and displaying all other signs of awe – even Wednesday could hardly stop looking at every exquisite feature of the castle. (Y/N) was much reminded of her first day, which already seemed so long ago; she too had been so entranced by Hogwart’s beauty, just the same. From the entrance courtyard covered in snow, all the way to the Headmaster’s office, and down again to the Great Hall, every Addams had enjoyed the tour greatly.

A few students lingered at the dining tables, playing games and talking and what-not, but had quickly been distracted by the entrance of the infamous Addams clan. (Y/N) could already smell the reek of growing gossip and rumours.

“This is Hagrid, Hogwart’s groundskeeper,” McGonagall introduced as they came to a halt at the staff table, where a giant of a man was sat talking with Flitwick, who looked all the more short beside him, “and Professor Flitwick, our Charms teacher.”

“Very nice to meet you,” her father smiled as he shook each of their hands, “Gomez Addams.”

“What a surprise,” Said Professor Flitwick as Morticia gave him her hand next, followed by Grandmama.

“An intriguing subject.” Her mother complimented sweetly. “Tell me, Professor, how is our daughter doing in your class?”

“Well, yes, very well.” He replied, nodding at (Y/N). “Always finishes her work, hands her homework in on time. And a fast learner – much potential.”

The approval warmed her cold heart.

“So, Mr Hagrid,” her father began, “groundskeeper, eh? Good job.”

The large man agreed and smiled, and (Y/N) thought it much a shame that they had never really met. “That it is, Mr Addams. An ‘ard job, but a goodun. Always summin’ to be done.”

Now that a sufficient amount of small talk had been had, Professor McGonagall drew attention back to their reason for coming. “Hagrid, I was hoping that you might give our guests a tour of the school.”

“Oh aye, o’course I would.” Hagrid agreed and made his way around the table, startled for a second to find himself only a foot taller than Lurch.

“Marvelous.” Said McGonagall. “I have much to be getting on with, it was very nice to meet you.” She shook their hands and bid them farewell, leaving them in the safe care of the groundskeeper.

“And ‘ere we ‘ave the library.” Hagrid announced as they entered the grand room, yet again stunning the family with its sheer enormity.

“Impressive.” Gomez nodded as he looked up at the tall ceiling, and greeted the librarian at her desk.

Grandmama shrugged. “I’ve seen bigger.”

“You have not.” Pugsley insisted, only to be shushed.

The group walked further in, talking with the groundskeeper pleasantly. When they had seen enough, they turned to leave for the long walk to the Gallery. It was then that the two sisters seized the opportunity to fall behind.

“This way.” (Y/N) whispered after their family left, guiding the younger girl further into the library. They hurried quietly, unsure of how long it would be before their family noticed their absence – or worse, they were caught by Pince.

Soon they came to the back of the library, where they stood before the dimly lit windows that hid more books from their reach. “What’s this?” Wednesday asked.

“The Restricted Section.” (Y/N) replied, walking along further until she found the locked entrance. “I heard Hermione talking about it, she said it’s kept locked at all times. But I figured, even if there’s magic to get in the way, it’s nothing you can’t get through. You’re the best lock-pick I know.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment,” Wednesday said as she took a few tools from her coat pocket and knelt down to the lock.

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) turned to keep look-out from the shadow of a bookcase. “It wont happen again.”

Without a moment to spare, Wednesday inserted her tools into the keyhole and got to work, carefully picking away at the inside mechanics. With any regular lock, she would have had it open in less than a minute, but it seemed this one was proving stubborn.

“The stupid thing is cheating.” She grumbled as she inserted a third pin and tried to work them all at once.

(Y/N) glanced from around the corner, seeing no movement for some minutes now. “How so?”

“Every time I make some progress, it goes and reverses it again.” Wednesday explained through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) might have replied with something helpful, if she hadn’t spotted Pince pushing the return cart in their direction, stopping every so often to place some books away. “Hurry up, Pince is coming.” She stressed, hoping to Hell that the librarian had no need to travel so far, and that the rumours of her superhuman hearing were simply rumours.

“I’m trying.”

“Well try faster.”

“Would you like to take over? Because I’ll stop if you want.” Wednesday sassed, and (Y/N) bit her tongue before she made true on her word.

With every step closer Pince took, (Y/N) could feel her heart pacing faster – if she got caught, would she be expelled? Because she didn’t think she could handle the shame.

Pince was just two cases away when (Y/N) heard a quiet mechanical click and a sigh from her sister. “It’s open.”

“Great, now we have to go.” She replied, ignoring Wednesday’s protest as she yanked her up and pulled her around the side of the bookcase, narrowly escaping Pince’s sight.

“What are you doing? We could have gone in.” Wednesday whispered furiously as she was dragged against her will towards the library doors.

“Not without being seen – there’s no way Pince would’ve missed that. And we don’t even know if the door creaks!” (Y/N) argued as they finally made it to the hallway. “If we were caught, it would have all been over. I’m not risking it.”

A few paces away from the turn into the next hallway, Wednesday finally pulled her arm out of her sister’s grasp and hid her pins safely back inside her pocket. “Then when are we going back?”

(Y/N) shook her head and buttoned up her cardigan, then held a finger up to her lips as they passed through the Gallery Hall, extremely aware of the keen ears of the portraits and how they loved to gossip. “We aren’t. I’ll sneak in after curfew--”

“—I want to go in too!” Wednesday argued, only to be shushed as (Y/N) pointed towards the portraits again. She clearly hadn’t expected them to be alive.

“The only time I can sneak in is after curfew, and you’ll be staying at the inn.” (Y/N) explained, and hurried her along to find the others as quickly as they could before she could argue much more.

(Y/N) did wish that Wednesday could go with her; breaking and entering wasn’t half as much fun alone. And she felt a little guilty that there wasn’t any more she could do. But perhaps a peek at the Necromancy book would cheer her up. If not, she wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a very long time.

The Hog’s Head was a fine establishment; from the crooked ashen pillars of the entrance to the narrow wooden hallways of the rooms. The Addamses spent their first afternoon together in the main lounge of the pub, sharing a creaky wooden table by a large window. It was a wonderful atmosphere. There were a few dozen people dotted about, eating and drinking and laughing – a few were playing card games and losing money, some smoking large pipes, and the odd couple making dodgy deals concealed by the shadows. There were few odd decorations for the season, wilting wreaths and dried up pine garlands with more needles on the floor than the branches. Drinks were refilled constantly, and the food was hearty (though (Y/N) was surprised to realise she much preferred the food at Hogwarts), and the conversation was endless. This was how they spent their Sunday, all the way through the day until late night.

(Y/N) was retelling the events of the Quidditch match, sparing no details missed in the letter she’d sent home after, and they listened with great interest and occasional laughs.

“...So I followed her all the way to the teachers’ stands, and she tells me that it’s Snape whose responsible for Harry’s broom trying to knock him off.” She explained, her fruitcake long forgotten in front of her. “So I took out my matches – because you know I always carry matches-” her family nodded and agreed with variations of ‘of course’ and ‘obviously’ “-and I tried to light his cloak on fire. But the stupid thing was damp, so Hermione gets out her wand and does this spell I’ve never even heard before, and it just goes up in flames – of course, I’d already warmed it up for her. Then there’s shrieks and stomping, and we run all the way down to the bottom in time for the end of the game.”

Her father let out a deep laugh, and beamed at his daughter. “Excellent story!”

Grandmama cackled along and held her mead up in a toasting gesture. “Good girl – always good to have a friend who’ll start fires with you.”

“We’re looking forward to meeting her,” her mother said. “Have you made any more friends?”

“Well, there’s Saoirse – she’s my roommate.”

“What about enemies?” Wednesday interrupted, swirling her drink around in her cup as she feigned disinterest. “Tell me you at least have one of those.”

Enemy may have been a strong word; there were certainly those she didn’t care for, but she hadn’t been fortunate enough to find someone really worth torturing. “There are plenty of unlikeable people to choose from,” (Y/N) said instead, “the potions professor, for a start – and that obnoxious Malfoy boy. But so far I haven’t found one worth the time.”

Grandmama seemed to pick her head up from her potent drink at whatever (Y/N) had said, something certainly had caught her interest. She wrapped her ratty black shawl around her and leaned across the table to shush Gomez, who had started speaking of his favourite nemesis from his own school years. “Malfoy?” She repeated, her croaky voice taking an edge to the name as a scowl came across her wrinkled features.

(Y/N) nodded in confusion, eager to know what her grandmother had to say on the matter – whatever had her mouth twisting. “What about him, Grandmama?”

To their surprise (but, frankly, not shock), the woman spat at the mention. “What about him? It was them Malfoys that wanted us outed!”

“What are you talking about?” Said Wednesday, just as interested as everyone else, but bored of waiting for her to get to the point already.

Grandmama sat back in her chair, the wood creaking quietly at the movement. “We Addamses were a part of the Sacred Twenty-nine, you know? The pure families, they called themselves. We were as worthy as any of them – more, even – but they were jealous. That’s what Mother always said. Jealous of our money and our power.” From her pocket, Grandmama pulled out a brown smoking pipe and a tin of smoking tabacco and herbs, which she stuffed in as she spoke, then let Thing light it for her when she was done. She took a few puffs before she returned to her story. “When the family started birthing Squibbs, it was them who wanted us out – the Malfoys and the Blacks. Called us ‘tainted’ and ‘impure’. They’re the reason we were outcasted. Said they couldn’t be associated with us. Said our families couldn’t mix. Said a lot of things, but it worked. Then it was the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

There was a pause when she was done, tobacco and mugwort wafting in the stale air as the family considered her words. It seemed to (Y/N) that there was still plenty that she had yet to reveal about their family’s past; still so much to learn.

It also seemed to her, that there was more to the Malfoys than money and misplaced pride.

For two beautifully sullen days, all thoughts of school and mysteries had vacated (Y/N)’s mind. There were no ghostly messages, no age-old notes, and no suspicious books at the bottom of her travel case. She shared a room with her siblings, ate with her family as they would back home, go for walks in the freezing snow and hail, and lurk around the town looking for things to do.

It was three in the afternoon, the sky was grey with winter clouds, and the children were playing in the street, throwing compact ice-balls at each other (and the occasional pedestrian who dared get caught in the cross-fire). There were no rules in an ice-ball fight, a winner was only established when all other players had to forfeit; injuries were guaranteed.

The two sisters had cruelly decided to work together against their little brother, leaving him vulnerable on both sides. As they often were when they worked as a team, the girls were formidable and relentless, meaning Pugsley’s only choice was to run and hide, dodging hand-pressed wedges of ice from every angle. It was a dog-eat-dog game; as soon as the runt was out of the picture, they would turn on each other.

They spotted Pugsley run between a crowd of shoppers as they were making more ammo, and quickly followed in his direction. Pugsley’s small boots made half-sized footprints in the snow, and they easily followed them to an alley. Wednesday peaked around the corner and saw that it lead to a ten-foot – the narrow backstreet behind two rows of houses where the bins were kept. “Go to the other side and block his path.” She mumbled and threw one end of her grey scarf around her shoulder. “I want him cornered.”

The girls shared a mischievous look, and (Y/N) nodded before running down the street to find the other end of the ten-foot. Eight houses later, she came to the opening and peeked around the side. She saw Wednesday at the other end, and they both started down each side, looking behind every item that Pugsley could use for cover, until (Y/N) spotted a footprint in the snow a few meters away. With a predatory stare, she creeped forward even more quietly, her footsteps barely crunching the snow, until she just saw the tail of a black coat behind a bin. Wednesday saw her stop, and came forward with her weapon raised, following the footprints until they were just a few steps from his hiding place. “Pugsley.” Wednesday called in a taunting voice. “We know you’re there.”

There was no sound from behind the bin, and if it weren’t for the coat and his tracks, (Y/N) might have doubted for a second if he was there. “You might as well come out now.” She said from the other side, wielding her own ice-ball. “Surrender while you can.”

“I’m not surrendering!” They heard, and (Y/N) could hardly help the evil smile that broke loose on her lips at the slight tremble of fear Pugsley tried to hide under his stubborn determination.

“You’re small and weak,” said Wednesday, “you’re not going to win. We overpower you in both numbers and size. This is your last chance to give up.”

There was a pause. For a moment, they thought he might actually surrender, but then (Y/N) saw movement from the side. “He’s sneaking past!” She warned, and the girls started to chase him back the way they’d followed him. Wednesday cursed as her ice-ball barely made it half the distance to her target – the kid was swift and full of energy, much to her chagrin – but he turned to look over his shoulder for a second, which slowed him a little. (Y/N) stopped quickly and threw the ice she was carrying as hard as she could in his direction; it flew with precision for a longer distance than she’d expected, but landed perfectly just as he turned around. Bullseye.

Pugsley fell back with a yell as the ice hit him right on his forehead, knocking him off balance just as Wednesday caught up and threw all the rest of her ammo at him while he blocked his face from more damage. “Stop! Stop! You got me!” The boy cried as his sister pelted more snow and ice at him.

When (Y/N) reached them, Wednesday had Pugsley pinned with a knee on his chest as she compressed another ice-ball. “Admit defeat.” She demanded and raised her weapon up.

Pugsley hesitated, a defiant stare on his face even as his sister kneed him harder in the chest.

“Say it.”

The boy sighed and sank his head back into the snowy ground, eyeing her ice-ball wearily. “Wednesday is superior and I am weak.” He groaned – she had him say it every time she beat him, and he hated it more and more each time.

“Good.” She said, then threw the ice at him anyway before she stood.

“Hey!” He yelled as it hit him in the cheek. “Cheat!”

Wednesday dusted herself off and shrugged carelessly. “You let your guard down.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” (Y/N) smirked as she leant a hand to her little brother, observing the new red marks on his face (she couldn’t help but feel a little proud at the bruise growing above his brow where she’d hit him). “Mother and Father want us back for dinner soon – we’ll still need time to clean up.”

"Why does she always make me say that?" Pugsley grumbled as he rubbed his sore cheek.

"Don't worry about it, Pugsley," (Y/N) assured, "one day you'll beat her, and it'll feel a whole lot better when you make her say it instead."

A second later, she felt a harsh hit on her shoulder, and pieces of ice and snow sprayed across her face. (Y/N) turned quickly to glare at her sister’s audacity, curling her fist in anger. “You are a cheat!” She scolded.

“And a winner.” Wednesday almost smiled, clearly proud of herself. “Now, what do you say?”

“I am not saying it.” She answered back, facing the girl fully and glaring daggers down at her (there was barely two inches between them, but (Y/N) was sure to always hold it above her). “Besides, only a coward shoots someone in the back.”

Wednesday squinted her eyes. “I’m not a coward – I shot you in the shoulder.”

“How about I shoot you in the face?”

A throat was cleared from beside them, and all three siblings turned at the intrusion.

Grandmama gave a croaky laugh at their antics. “I heard your squabbling from the inn.” She said with a half-grin, pointing the end of her walking stick at them. “You know, when I was your age, we used to shoot at each other with real weapons.” She sighed nostalgically. “Must get you some one day. Well – time to go in now, go on.” She encouraged with a poke at their legs, before she shuffled along after them, using her stick to be sure she wouldn’t slip on any ice.

The morning sun was peaking in through the inn’s dirty, frosted windows and between the edges of the old browning drapes, slowly waking its inhabitants from their slumber. (Y/N) ignored it for a while, turning in her lumpy bed and away from the pesky sunlight that interrupted her sleep. All was silent.

For a moment.

Just as she was about to drift back into unconsciousness, a sudden weight pushed down on the mattress and bounced her body about. “(Y/N)! Wake up!” Pugsley cried as he bounced on his knees, shaking her shoulder with both hands to be sure she couldn’t ignore him. “Wake up!”

“Go away.” She grumbled and kicked him from under the duvet, satisfied when he tumbled loudly to the cold, wooden floor. It didn’t seem to stop him for long, though, as he stood and shook her about once more.

“Get up!” He yelled, growing more frustrated as he then crossed the room to throw a pillow at Wednesday (it was wise to keep a safe distance from her).

Wednesday’s eyes shot open and glared at him immediately, already in a foul mood as she took the pillow and launched it at his face, making him wince as it struck his new bruise. “You insufferable little troll – shut up before I stuff that pillow down your throat.”

“It’s Christmas!” Pugsley cried, unaffected by his sister’s (very possible) threat. He ran to grab the robe from the end of his bed and quickly pushed his arms through the sleeves, then shoved on his slippers and made for the door.

(Y/N) sat up and rubbed her eyes, finally awake enough for the information to process. “Pugsley,” she called as he’d stepped into the hallway, “don’t wake Mother and Father, remember. Knock.”

A haunted look passed over the boy’s face for a half-second, before he quickly nodded and went on his way.

(Y/N) sat up and yawned, her breath fogging up in the chilly room. She could hardly believe how quickly time had passed already; but excitement bubbled in her gut nonetheless. Tugging on her own slippers and wrapping herself in her plum-coloured robe, she scooped Jinx up from where he had been sleeping in the warm space between the duvet and her pillows, and made her way to her sister.

Wednesday was laid back again, arms crossed over her chest in her usual corpse-like pose and braids tucked under her head. Her dark eyes opened as (Y/N) approached. Neither girl said anything for a moment, until eventually Wednesday rolled her eyes and began to get out of bed, just in time to hear Pugsley running down the stairs with Thing trailing behind.

There were no other guests staying at The Hog’s Head for the occasion, so the family had decided to rent out a sitting room. The inn’s owner had a uniquely decorated pine tree stood in the corner, covered in cracked baubles and ratty ribbons, and topped with the decapitated head of a porcelain doll with pink cheeks and a missing eye. The fire was lit too, but not roaring, making the room comfortable but not warm. A spider crawled along the wall towards the window, where it spun a web of its own design; (Y/N) briefly wondered how it had lived into the winter, but quickly decided that it was unimportant. It all looked wonderfully wrong.

“Good morning, girls.” Their mother greeted from a chair, making the other few present turn towards the entrance. She looked as put together as always, in her velvet black robe that trailed the floor, with a look of contentment on her grey and white dusted features. “Did you have sweet nightmares?”

Wednesday moved to the sofa by the tree, where Thing was patiently tapping a finger on the arm, waving at her as she sat. “I dreamt of nothing.” She stated with a hint of boredom, then turned to eye the boxes of gifts sat under the dying plant beside her. She took up conversation with the hand, focusing on his rapid movements and spelling.

Morticia looked to her eldest daughter for her answer, who placed the cat in her arms on the back of the chair by the fire and sat. “And you, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Mother,” she replied, “I had very interesting nightmares.” In the excitement of the morning, she had almost forgotten about the strange dreams that had tortured her sleep. She dreamed of drowning in thousands of library books; of dark figures lurking in corners; of a haggard old crow that did nothing but stare; of storms and riddles and corpse voices that gave unintelligible instructions. For a few days, she had simply been a girl spending the winter holidays with her family, and with one haunting dream, she was once again reminded of a responsibility that she did not want.

“How lovely,” her mother replied, then was soon distracted by the entrance of her husband.

Donned in his black and red robe, Gomez Addams had the incredibly important duty of bringing the perfect morning coffee to his wife – a duty he took very seriously. Before affording distractions to anything else, he set the tray on the table beside her and poured the scalding drink from the teapot into a dainty teacup and handed it over. “There, Tish. Dangerously hot and lightly sweetened with cyanide, just how you like it.” He smiled as she took a sip, then sat beside her and kissed her knuckles. “Just how I like you.”

The three children screwed up their faces and shared a look of disgust, but said nothing. It was one thing that (Y/N) had not missed about her parents.

Grandmama was the last to enter, shuffling over to drop herself down onto the last remaining seat as Lurch brought over her usual morning tea. Soon, everyone was greeted and comfortable, and Pugsley was finally able to ask for his gifts.

Gomez laughed heartily and nodded. “Go ahead, my boy.” He said, and with that, the three siblings sat themselves on the floor and began to rummage for their names.

Pugsley was the first to find his name, and wasted no time in opening the box to find a grotesque shrunken head. He took it in his hands excitedly to examine it closer, poking at the string that bound together its lips and eyelids.

Wednesday unwrapped what looked at first to be a chemistry set, but upon close inspection found to be filled with various poisonous herbs and suspicious fluids. Though she didn’t show it as expressively as Pugsley, she was clearly very pleased with it.

(Y/N) tore at black and white paper and revealed a box, from which she pulled a half-decomposed, rotting hand on a flat wooden stand – the one from Borgin and Burke’s. “I’d almost forgotten about this.” She smiled at her father, who looked very proud of himself at her reaction. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Cucarachita.” He replied as he pulled a cigar and lighter from his pocket. “I’m sure you will find good use for it."

Much too quickly for their liking, the children finished unwrapping their gifts and sat on the floor admiring their many new possessions. Pugsley was playing with the shrunken head and a large taxidermy rat, (Y/N) was stabbing at the space between her fingers on the floor with her new gold-tipped throwing knife, and Wednesday was reading through the copy of Arachnomancy that (Y/N) had ‘borrowed’ from the library for her.

The family feasted in the pub downstairs, enjoying the busy environment of strangers eating and drinking for the special occasion, getting rowdy and arguing or playing unrecommendable games – it was much different from their usual traditions, but it was good. In fact, it wasn’t all that different from one of their larger family gatherings, with the shouting, the music, and the occasional object being thrown across the room.

And as they settled back into the sitting room for the evening, talking tiredly as Lurch finished up the last details of their family portrait, (Y/N) sat on the floor and leaned back into her mother’s legs, letting her long nails comb through her hair as she stared off into the dying fire.

For one more night, she had nothing to worry about.

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vamossainz55 · 1 year

Text

busy being yours - cs55

summary (1.6k): inspired by do i wanna know by arctic monkeys | tw: alcohol consumption, smoking (cigarettes/nicotine), hints towards mature content (not explicit at all), minors dni!

fingers gently trace the back of his neck and he can feel the marks of lipstick being left behind on his skin. the alcohol is mixing into his blood, enough for him to hold the girl in front of him a bit closer.

despite his body taking its claim his mind and eyes are somewhere else, glued to the corner of the bar, watching the events unfold. it’s where you are, short skirt with a tight top that makes carlos wonder if you wore it just for him.

his finger traces the rim of his cup, still wet from his lips where he last took the sip. you’re with lando, and of course you were, when were you not? both of you are attached to the hip, almost best friends at birth. this only meant that you were at almost every race, every weekend, every party. and every time the pull is still there.

the girl’s hands travel down his chest, making a claim as his fingers dig into her sides. in that moment, your eyes meet his and he sees your gaze travel from his face to the girl he was currently entertaining. unfortunately for her, she’s not the one entertaining him tonight.

you don’t seem phased with how she’s wrapped around carlos, simply looking back over to lando who swings his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to his side. to any onlooker it would look like you didn’t care about carlos, which was far from the truth. the reality behind it was that you knew as well as carlos that he would not be going home with the girl. he never did.

your point is proven when you look back minutes later to only find the girl there, back with her group of her friends with her eyes locked onto another man as if carlos was never there in the first place. you wonder where he is now, but you don’t bother to search for him. you both always somehow manage to find each other.

the drinking continues, up to the point where your eyes are blurry and the sound of a cigarette sounds way too tempting to ignore. so you sneak out, squeezing out of daniel’s grip and giving lando’s side a pinch to catch some well needed and not so fresh air.

you barely need a minute for the cold to hit you for you to spot him, back resting on the wall by the entrance of the bar. he has a cigarette in one hand, the other cupping around the fire lit from his lighter.

his eyes flicker to you almost instantly, as if he felt the energy shift the moment you step out. “want one?” he offers, taking a drag of his cigarette as he fishes out the pack from his pocket. you nod, thanking him as you reach over, but you don’t take it from him. instead your touch lingers, and he watches you with curious eyes.

“do you mind sharing instead? i promised lando i’d cut down when going out.” it’s a fib, lando could care less about you smoking (as long as you didn’t make it a really bad habit). your fingers continue to rest on his, and carlos nods, takes his time to answer as he pretends to think. he’d do anything you’d ask.

“sure, we can share.” he says, taking another drag before hovering it over your lips. you finally let go of the pack, but your touch returns when you hold his arm, stepping closer in the process to take a drag yourself. you only pull away once you’re satisfied, eyes fluttering shut as you exhale with a sigh. “needed that hm?” he teases, chuckling when you nod.

the rest of the time outside is silent, both of you slowly nipping away at the cigarette as you stand side-by-side. your shoulder is pressed against his arm, and he wonders how this alone feels ten times better than the girl he was with over an hour ago. he’s running out of time, the drags you had been taking were too long, he considers lighting up a second cigarette. to offer a round two for the sake of five extra minutes.

“do you want to go back inside?” you ask, watching the last bit of ashes melt into the ground. “i want to dance,” carlos doesn’t dance, you’ve seen the amount of bribery lando had used to coax him onto the dancefloor five parties ago. it’s no surprise that he nods anyways though, hand going to hold your waist as you turn to go into the bar.

your hand finds his once you’re both inside, pulling him close to you as you go through the crowd. it’s hard to find a clear space but thankfully you see a few people go to the bar and you quicken your steps to fill out the spot.

the music is getting louder, and people are getting messier so you press against carlos to let some people pass. “I’ve got you,” carlos murmurs, allowing his hand to travel to your lower back. he doesn’t miss the way you shiver under his touch, the way your body presses against him.

your bodies move together to the music, and your hands begin to roam over his chest. your touch is like fire on his skin, burning him in the best way possible. he takes your hand in his, gets you to turn before pressing his chest against your back. you lean your head onto his shoulder and your lips are so close to his, he considers, almost does it.

“so what happened to the girl before?” you ask, and it’s almost criminal to ask at the same moment you press your back closer. your ass presses against him and he could care less about the girl he was with earlier.

“wasn’t interested,” he breathes out, hands going to squeeze your hips. he’s thankful the lights have been dimmed, knowing you both wouldn’t dare to push it this much otherwise. your lips are ghosting his as you face him once more, and your fingers are playing with the nape of his hair.

“how come?” the smile on your lips lets carlos know that you know exactly why, so he doesn’t answer, only hooks his thumb over under your chin to get you to look at him properly. he’s more than happy to play this game with you.

“the same reason why you’re here with me.” he says, watches the way you lick your lips and he can’t help himself, has to drag his thumb over your bottom lip. he wants to kiss you, and he’s sure you want it too. your eyes are locked onto his, almost challenging him, daring him to take the next step. he realises he should’ve done it as soon as he noticed.

“guys, come on!” he feels a clasp on his back, one that shakes his whole body. he looks over, finds charles grinning from ear to ear with his face flushed red. “we’re gonna go, our ride is here.” it’s a wake up call for you both and the space between you grows as charles squeezes inbetween, unaware of the moment he’s just taken away from you both.

“god, you’re too drunk charles,” you mutter, hooking your arm under him as carlos does the same. carlos doesn’t know how you do it, how your mind isn’t as puddled as his. he can’t even speak, only walking with the both of you to the door where lando and daniel were already waiting.

you both squeeze into the last row of the back seats, and despite the space you both had you’re pressed against one another. your head finds comfort on his shoulder as the rest of the guys continue to babble on about the bar, joking about an after party. this stops as soon as charles gags at the suggestion of more shots, and you all decide it’s time to call it a night.

“come on, into bed now.” he watches you tuck charles in, and he sets a cup of water and a strip of advil on charles’ bedside. “don’t forget the plastic bag.” you say, and carlos can only nod and go grab it. by the time he returns from the bathroom you’re at the door, finger pressed against your lips to remind him to be quiet.

he doesn’t realise how hard his heart is beating until the door shuts behind him. his room is to the left, and he knows yours is two over to the right. “that was fun.” he’s trying to fill the silence, to gain more time to muster up the courage to ask you to stay.

“it was, pity we got interrupted.” you murmur before shrugging. your eyes fall onto his lips for a brief moment but your gaze is pulled away the moment your phone buzzes, “shit, lando’s looking for me.” you sigh out, reading over your screen. carlos tries to take a peek but you lock it before he can. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” you say before taking the first step back.

“I- yeah. see you tomorrow.” he murmurs, watches the way you smile before turning your back towards him. he should say something, he should ask. “wait,”

you stop on your feet and turn over to him. the chance is there, waiting. he just wishes he could explain why he doesn’t take it. “goodnight,”

you don’t look surprised, only grace him with a nod before saying, “goodnight carlos,”

it’s only one hour later when he builds up the courage, grabs his phone to call you with a glass of whiskey in his hand. the machine answers and that’s when he remembers you turn your phone off when you sleep. he hangs up, curses under his breath before putting his phone to the side.

he’ll tell you tomorrow it was an accident, even though you both will know it would be a lie.

#carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 fiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #carlos sainz imagine #cs55

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bryngmemoney · 8 months

Text

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke, worms (maybe?)

lots of Writing between Messages!!

🪡Chapter Twenty-seven: Fixing him

“Megumi,”

“hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you didn’t notice it , but he tightened his grip on the wheel, his other hand that was by his side he used to pinch the fabric of his pants.

“You just seem quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, but you never told me where we were going.”

“Oh right!” to be honest you had completely forgotten you hadn’t told him, and you did promise you’d say where the morning of. “It’s a little book cafe! My friend recommended it to me, I thought it seemed fitting.”

“So, you’ve been here before with them?” he questioned. “Nope, we can try it out together.” He smiled a little, and you did notice that, happy to at least get a little more emotion out of him.

“Hi! Welcome in,” A girl with a short brown bob looked up to you and Megumi walking in, adjusting herself at the front of the counter next to a bakery display waiting for you to approach.

“Hi,” you greeted back.

“Do you two need help with anything?”

“Not looking for anything particular, thank you though,” you answered, turning to look at Megumi only to see him already looking around the place, specifically staring off towards a shelf of books.

“Ok, well let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded as the girl went back to her previous task. There were only a couple of other people inside the place, probably less than ten. It was larger than you expected it to be from the outside exterior, but still very homey. You had just begun to take a few steps in, only for Megumi to grab your hand and lead the way.

“Look,” he said once stopping in front of a shelf, picking a book out and handing it to you. “One of my favorites.” You were a little taken aback, but just smiled looking at it, front and back, trying to figure out what it was. “How is your eyesight that good you saw this from the entrance?”

“Can you do that again?” You looked up, only to see him pull out a smaller camera from his jacket’s pocket. Smaller than the one you had seen him with before. How did you not notice he was carrying that?

“Uhm, okay,” and you repeated your action, feeling slightly strange, but at least he seemed more alive now.

“Thank you.” His smile at that moment was contagious, seeming genuinely happy.

“Was that just for you or for your project?” you asked, mirroring his expression.

“Do you want your hint for the day?”

“Yes please.” He leaned his camera towards you, showing you the four photos he took, “They are for the project,” he informed.

“What’s wrong with your loaf?”

“What?” Megumi looked up from his page, eyes wide full of confusion.

“The pastry you ordered, you took two bites and haven’t touched it since.” You had been watching Megumi for the past thirty minutes he’s been sitting across from you. Although you both originally started with conversation that had slowly filed down into you guys reading what you had chosen. You thought back to what Nobara had said over text and couldn’t help but think maybe she was right. He’d probably be happy if you had just taken him outside then given him a book.

“Oh,” he looked down next to him, starring at the piece of bread on the small plate, “It’s just.. too sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

He looked back up at you, shrugging before picking up his mug taking a sip of his dark coffee. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.” He placed the cup back down, then went back to reading.

“You’re such an interesting man Megumi.”

“Really?” he questioned looking back up to you.

“You’re interesting to me.” He just looked at you, both of you making eye contact for a few seconds, and he failed to look away on time so you wouldn’t see the pink dusting his face. “Thanks I guess.”

Author’s Note: concrete🎀

um so complications irl, am not able to finish the next chapter today, will post two chapters for tomorrows update promise 😊🤞

hope you guys enjoyed!!

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heavyhitterheaux · 3 months

Text

The Marriage Pact Part 6

To Love and to Cherish

AN: It's been a while, but here we go!

Synopsis: Jack’s priority is making sure that you're okay despite your protests and wanting him to keep his distance. Life gets harder for him without you, and he soon comes to a realization that this might have to be his new normal

Pairing: Ex-Fiance!Jack Harlow x Ex-Fiancée!Reader

The Marriage Pact Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack was in a daze as he took the steps two at a time after grabbing his keys in order to get to his car. All he could do at this point was hope and pray that you and the baby were okay and he couldn't also help but think that this was entirely his fault. If he had simply done what you asked him to do and been honest from the very beginning, more than likely this wouldn't have happened and the two of you would have been in a good place.

Now it seemed like everything was getting worse by the second.

He got to the hospital in less than ten minutes and stopped at the front desk to find out where you were. Once he got to your room, he walked in to see that your eyes were closed and there were two small cuts, one next to your eye and one below it. Other than that you looked to have been perfectly fine which he was more than thankful for.

Hearing his footsteps, you peeked your right eye open and quickly sighed seeing who it was. He was the absolute last person on earth that you wanted to see, but knew that his coming was inevitable.

“Babe…” He started to say as he reached for you before you immediately cut him off.

“I don't want to hear it.”

“Y/N, I don’t care what you want or don't want to hear. I told you that I didn't want you leaving and now look at what happened. I damn near got into an accident myself trying to get to you to make sure that you were okay!” Jack said clearly frustrated about how you were acting towards him.

“Oh, so it's my fault?”

“That didn't come out of my mouth so where did you even get that from?”

“I really do not want to be around you right now. Wasn't me leaving in the middle of your tour not clear enough? Because if not, I can start from the beginning and call off a list of things that you've done to piss me off.”

“I get it. I get that you’re mad at me and for good reason, but I still need to make sure you're okay and did you forget that you're pregnant now? So that means that I now have two people to worry about.”

“How can I forget when I'm literally throwing up all day, every day? Kind of hard not to.”

“I just… wanted to see if you and the baby were okay. What even happened? And you clearly are, since you’re arguing with me.”

“They're fine. Someone ran a red light and hit me and my car is done for. Now you can leave.” You shot back as you turned to your side to face away from him.

“I'm not going anywhere. I don't give a damn how mad you are at me right now, I'm staying with you to make sure you're okay. Despite what you may think right now, I…” He trailed off and you suddenly looked at him because it caught your attention.

“What were you going to say?”

“I'm still trying to wrap my mind around you telling me that I only asked you to marry me out of desperation when I love you and would do anything for you and you know that. Anything you ask of me I do it for you.”

“Except being completely honest with me.”

“I wish that we could start completely over, but what's done is done and I'm sorry that I betrayed your trust. But, baby you have to believe me when I say that you are the only person that I want. Whatever you need me to do to repair our relationship, I'm willing to do it.”

“I… just don't even know what I need you to do at this point. I think as hard as a decision that this may be, I need to take a step back from you and this relationship.”

“You… you can't be serious. You're pregnant!” Jack exclaimed while gesturing to your belly and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“And? Is that supposed to change anything?”

“It changes literally EVERYTHING. Just please let me fix this. I promise-”

You immediately cut him off not wanting to hear another word.

“You have broken literally every single promise that you have made me since we got engaged and I don't think I even know the person standing in front of me right now and you have no idea how much that hurts me.” You quietly told him as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Y/N… you aren't about to say what I think you’re about to say because….”

“I'm breaking up with you and whatever this is or was is over. I'm not going to manage you anymore either. Let Neelam do it because I'm done. I'm not competing for a spot in your life anymore.”

“Y/N you don't mean that! You don't have to compete for anything. It's you, it's always been you. Baby, please don't do this. I will literally-”

“Do anything? Jackman, you've done enough. Too much actually. I love you and you know I always will. But I just… for my peace of mind, my heart can't take being with you right now until you get your shit together.”

“So, you don't want to marry me anymore?” Jack asked and you could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. As much as you wanted for things to go back the way that they were, you couldn't.

“I never said that. I think right now that's not the best idea for either of us. We need to be on the same page and right now we aren't.”

“What can I do to get you to change your mind? I… there has to be something.”

“I'm still going to be in your life, I'm not walking away completely. You did get me pregnant after all.”

“But we won't be together?”

You simply shook your head no at Jack and you were determined to stand your ground and not back down. As much as you wanted to forgive him and be wrapped in his arms, you knew that you deserved better and until he was able to give you that, there was absolutely no reason for the two of you to be together.

You had to let him know that this wasn't acceptable anymore and that if he wanted the two of you to be together that something had to give.

“Baby, please.” Jack pleaded with you as a few tears began to fall, but all you did in response was slip off your engagement ring and hold out your hand towards him as hard as it was and waited for him to take it.

Not believing what he was seeing, he simply shook his head.

“It's rightfully yours, so I want you to keep it. You're the one that I bought it for.”

“Please understand that this doesn't mean that I don't love you because that is as far from the truth as ever.” You quietly said as you grabbed his hand to squeeze it and all he did was nod.

“But we cannot be married and our relationship consists of hiding things from one another.” You added and Jack nodded in agreement.

“And I also have to be able to trust you wholeheartedly. That's my biggest thing.” You continued as Jack started making small circles on the back of your hand.

“I promise to give you all the space and time you need.”

It had been weird.

Weird without you being around Jack and you honestly didn't know how to feel.

He had moved around a few tour dates so that he was able to stay with you for a few days despite your protests. However, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

The very next morning after your car accident, you sent Chris a letter detailing your decision of not managing Jack anymore and ultimately leaving Generation Now. It was rushed and could have been written better, but in your mind the quicker that you got it done, the less likely you would change your mind about your decision. Chris was soon blowing up your phone, but you didn't bother answering it because you knew that he was going to try and convince you to change your mind.

Everything would now be on Neelam's shoulders since you were out of the picture. You didn't wish ill of her or that she would fail at her job because at the end of the day, Jack would be affected. As much as you were upset at him because of his actions, you never wanted anything like that to happen.

The last day that he spent with you before flying back to Europe was somewhat awkward. That was a first because this was the person that you spent the majority of your time with since birth and there had never been a dull moment between the two of you.

This was the first time in his career that you wouldn't be with him and he didn't quite know how to feel about it. As he was getting ready to leave, he simply leaned down to kiss your forehead and lightly caressed your cheek since you were sleeping.

He figured that it would be harder for him to leave in the morning so he decided to leave in the middle of the night. It would be harder because he would physically have to say goodbye to you face to face and he wasn't ready for that. But, he did leave a note for you that you would hopefully see once you woke up.

Y/N,

I had to leave when you were sleeping because it would have been ten times harder for me if not. I take full responsibility for what has happened between us and I hope one day that you can forgive me. It's going to be hard not seeing and being around you every day, but I told you that I would give you all of the space and time that you need. I want you to have a healthy pregnancy for our baby and in order for that to happen, I will do anything you ask because stressing you out is the last thing that I want to do. I love you so much and please understand that I never meant for any of this to happen. I want you to be able to trust me and know that you are my priority. I’m going to prove to you that you made the right choice in saying yes to marrying me and I will wait for however long it takes. We’re going to get through this and I’ll text you when I land.

Love, Jack

Two months or so had passed and you were out at lunch with Maggie and she quickly asked how you were feeling seeing as you were now in month four. Jack would be present at every doctor's appointment either in person or on facetime if he wasn't near Louisville. As much as he wanted to cancel the rest of his tour and stay with you, you wouldn't let him. He worked entirely too hard all year to not see the entire thing through. Your belly was small, but there was definitely something there. Jack had sent a text early this morning to check on you and see how you were feeling and you kept it short and sweet.

You weren't mad at him, not anymore.

But he was far from being in your good graces.

Extremely far.

The two of you were discussing plans about the baby and you told her that when the two of you left that you were actually going to go and do a little light shopping as you were probably going to get a few outfits along with some toys knowing that you will get more than enough when the baby shower rolled around.

“Y/N, where's your ring?” Maggie asked you, catching you off guard as you were showing her the theme that you wanted to do for the baby's room.

You glanced down to look at your bare finger and silently cursed to yourself, forgetting to put it on this morning knowing that she was bound to ask questions.

As far as both of your families knew, the wedding was still on even though that couldn't have been further from the truth. Jack pleaded and begged for you to proceed with it, but you wanted nothing to do with him until he got his shit together.

“And don't lie to me.” Maggie added while eyeing you seeing as you still hadn't responded to her.

“Getting married isn't the best idea for us right now.” You quietly said while playing with your bracelet to distract you.

“Since when?” Maggie asked while trying to get down to the bottom of how her future daughter in law was feeling.

“Sometimes the fairytale turns into a nightmare, but luckily I was able to wake up.” You quietly said before taking a swig of your sprite.

“What did my big headed son do?” Was all you heard as a sigh escaped from her.

“It doesn't even matter at this point. But, just know that I had to take a step back from him. Not because I wanted to, because I needed to.”

“Just know that I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what.” She said while grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

“I appreciate that and I'm going to need it more than ever.”

“And why is that?”

“Jack isn't the only one with talent and I'm done managing him and being in the background. It's my turn to do something for myself.”

–

Jack was high key annoyed and he couldn't wait until the tour was over so that he would be able to go home to Louisville and be with you full time. Well not be with you, obviously since you hadn't forgiven him yet, but he would be closer to you than he was at this very moment. He had gotten a week off during his tour and immediately flew back to Louisville to see you, he sent a text first to let you know he was there and if it was okay to come and see you. By then, you had moved back into your condo, not wanting to be around anything that reminded you of Jack, even though that proved to be impossible.

Neelam was doing a terrible job taking over what you used to do and it had Jack stressed to the tenth level. He was just informed that she had double booked him for something…. again. This had to be the third or fourth time and he was tired of it.

She looked just as stressed as he was and he knew it was an adjustment for her now doing this full time, but something had to give.

“I never had this problem when Y/N was here. Neelam, we cannot keep doing this. How am I supposed to be in two places at once?” He quietly said and all she did was sigh.

“Well I was just thrown into this and now I'm completely by myself so give me some grace and have a little patience.” She shot back as she was scribbling down notes for something.

“You weren't thrown into anything, you had a general idea of what to do and what not to do.”

“Well if you don't want me here, call Y/N since she can obviously do my job a lot better than I can.” Neelam replied frustrated at the attitude that Jack was giving her.

“She doesn't want to talk to me or manage me anymore so you're it.” He muttered as he opened his phone to the text thread between the two of you. Talking every day had basically become non-existent, but he still made sure to check on you a few times a week. At this point, he would take anything that he could get because at least you were talking to him.

But he did make sure to tell you that he loved you in one way, shape, or form every day.

Neelam instantly felt bad once Jack came back and didn't have you with him. Suddenly everything was on her and she highly doubted that you would be willing to help her if she asked you.

Jack had been in a depressed state, which was fair given the circumstances, but he definitely made her job harder most days. She knew that he missed you and knew that you in not so many words broke up with him, were pregnant and did not have a plan on getting back with him any time soon.

Thinking that Jack needed a little pick me up and hoping that you would agree to het idea, she had to work up the nerve to call you later once he was on stage.

“I'll do my best to be better, okay? Chris wouldn't have hired me if I couldn't do my job.”

“It's whatever. I'm going to lay down until I have to head to the venue.”

Neelam quickly nodded and used this as an opportunity to call you once Jack was out of earshot.

She was surprised that you picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey Y/N. It's Neelam.”

“I know, I have caller id. What do you want?” You asked her as you were moving around in your bedroom trying to tidy it up.

“Look, I'm sorry for the way that things went down between us and I overstepped when I shouldn't have.”

“Okay.”

“Um, Jack is just….”

“Just what?” You asked as you stopped in your tracks thinking that something was wrong.

“He needs you, like really needs you. It went from bad to worse, and I just don't know what to do anymore. He barely leaves his bed most days.”

“And what am I supposed to do all the way in Louisville?”

“Well maybe just talk to him? Or even come and see him?”

“And say what Neelam? He made his bed and now he has to lie in it and deal with the consequences. I love him and he knows that I love him, but every time that he has a problem, I cannot always run to him and save the day. He doesn't have much longer and he's just going to have to deal with it as harsh as that may sound.”

“Well can you just think about it? That might be what he needs to finish this out strong.”

“I'll see him once he gets back to Louisville. Talk to you later.”

As Jack was in his hotel room laying down and staring at the ceiling, there was a knock on his door. Removing the comforter from his body, he made his way over to the door and opened it to see Urban staring back at him.

“Uh hey.” Urban quietly said as Jack moved to the side to let him in.

Ever since Jack returned from being with you in Louisville, Urban was trying to be as supportive as he possibly could. He necessarily didn't see this coming the way that everything went down, but he wasn't going to throw it in his best friend's face when he was already not at his best. This what he had been afraid of from the very beginning.

Urban sat down on the couch that was in the far left corner of the room as Jack came and sat next to him.

“What if she changed her mind and doesn't want to marry me anymore?” Jack asked as he broke the silence.

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, but I can't be so sure. I didn't cherish her and I took the love that she has for me for granted. I told her that I would give her as much space and time that she needs, but we're about to have an entire kid and she can barely stand to be in the same room as me.”

“Just give her time. This is Y/N that we're talking about. You know the one who has known you since you were eight days old?”

“As much as I want to, I don't think that giving her time will be enough.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagines #jackman thomas harlow

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 1 year

Note

Hi, you can write where the reader is Aemond's older sister and he has been obsessed with her since he was little. Now that he has grown up he is full of malicious intentions, but the reader does not understand why he always pretends to be sweet and innocent in front of her

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Aemond x Sister!reader

summary: Aemond's older sister and he has been obsessed with her since he was little. Now that he has grown up he is full of malicious intentions, but the reader does not understand why he always pretends to be sweet and innocent in front of her

Word count: 1,5K

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You were only seven when Aemond was born, naturally you were curious like when your other siblings were born. Rhaenyra took you to see him when you asked her about him. She looked indifferent when she met him, she never cared for your siblings that were from Alicent, you were different though you were the daughter of Aemma and she loved you dearly.

When you saw the little baby in the cot wiggling about you were immediately enchanted to be honest. You liked how quiet he was unlike Aegon who cried a lot or Helaena who seemed to zone out even as a babe. You reached in to grab his small hand and he latched on to it refusing to let it go for several minutes much to your amusement. That day Rhaenyra sat you down and had a talk with you, begging you not to grow attached to any of Alicent's children.

You were eight when Aemond took his first footsteps, you were playing with him much to the displeasure of your sister. The Queen was watching you like a hawk as you waved around a wooden wolf. Aemond reached over to your hands which you gave him and pulled himself up to stand, something he has been able to do for a while but then what surprised you was when he attempted to take a step closer. In less than ten minutes you were walking around the chamber holding both his hands to guide him as he walked. You laughed overjoyed while the Queen smiled gently trying to calm down Helaena who was crying a little. You ran to your father and sister proudly telling them that you had taught Aemond how to walk. Your father chuckled patting your head and moved on, not really caring for any of his children other than Rhaenyra, his heir. Your sister scolded you reminding you that you should not go near Alicent's children.

Your name was Aemond's third or fourth word behind mama and dada and some more words. Ever since he could pronounce your name he had not stopped calling it. Whenever you were gone he would scream it on the top of his lungs demanding your presence. Even the King once complained hearing Aemond crying your name and called for you to come and clam his third born.

Aemond was fuming when Daeron was born. He hated watching you giggled at the baby, playing with tiny fingers and toes. For once even as a child he agreed with Rhaenyra that you should not be near Daeron, you were his uēpkta mandia (older sister). He would cross his arms and frown as he watched you tickle Daeron.

You were ten and two when Aemond had hit Daeron in front of you out of jealousy. He was merely five and Daeron three when Aemon chucked a pillow at Daeron who was hogging all your attention from him. Alicent insisted that you no longer play with Daeron in favour of Aemond, she was scared for her fourth born to actually perish at the hands of her third born.

You were ten and seven when the worst possible scenario happened, Aemond lost his eye to the hands of Lucaerys Valeryon, your nephew. That was when the rivalry between Rhaenyra and Alicent went up to another level, it was marked by blood now. You did not know whose side to take, you just stood by the door watching with teary eyes. Your uncle Daemon was stood by your side, watching in amusement.

Aemond seeked your warmth instead of his mother's. He got up from his chair and walked over to you, hugging you around the waist and leaning his head on your chest. You hugged him close and let one of your hands run through his locks that he shared with you, trying to comfort him.

Rhaenyra literally screamed at you. accusing you that you chose Aemond's side over her son's. You screamed back that you were comforting a child that lost half his sight, whether he was right or wrong he did not deserve it, he did not deserve to lose an eye over the words his mother put into his head, it was Alicent who should be punished not Aemond. A drift began forming between you and Rhaenyra that day.

You were twenty and three when you noticed the change in Aemond. The way he would stick by your side, demand you come and watch him train in the yard. How he would challenge your suitors to a duel which would always end with them injured and running away from you. He never once failed to mention your dragon in front of them if they were strong willed and stayed after the duel, how she was overprotective of you, how she once ate three men when they tried attacking you. That would usually do the trick.

Until Terren Hightower, Aemond's mother's cousin appeared. He was not scared of dragons having been around Daeron's dragon for a while, ever since he moved there. No matter what Aemond did he never left you alone, he duelled with Aemond happily more than once defeating him or the match would end in a draw.

He listened happily to the stories of your dragon, laughing at the mention of three men that your dragon ate, simply saying " They were idiot to ever think they could hurt a dragon, dragons exist to be respected and feared, not as enemies".

Then you noticed the small trap appearing here and there, you tripping in your gown and twisting your ankle and unable to go to the gardens for your daily walks with Terren. Aemond instead showed up to your room and comforted you. You did not say anything at all.

Then came the incident where Terren fell off his horse and broke one of his legs. You went to visit him, worrying over his health. You were not in love with Terren but you liked him, he was decent enough. Aemond did not like that and pulled you out of the room with a scowl.

"What is wrong, baby brother?" You teased, pulling your arm out of his hold and pausing in the middle of the corridor.

"Walk" He hissed, he wanted you as far away from Terren as possible.

"Are you jealous that I am giving him attention? Is it like when you were five and Daeron three all over again? Will you throw a toy in his face too?" You asked. You crossed you arms and leaned back against the wall with a smirk. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times by his side, his one remaining eye twitching with anger. He was trying to hold himself back, not show his crazed side of himself, he did not want you to view him any less. You deserved more.

"Sweet sister, cousin Terren merely needs to rest, I wanted him to heal as fast possible, nothing more" He answered. A fake smile slowly grew on his face, he was failing miserably to show how unaffected he was.

"Is that so?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. He nodded his head slowly.

"I fear I do not believe you" You shook your head. You grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him closer to you. His breath got caught in his throat at the close proximity you found yourselves in.

"Mandia" Sister. Aemond warned, still trying to remain as innocent as possible in your eyes. You had to tilt your head up to be able to look at him. He was taller, and bulkier, nowhere near Daemon or even Aegon but he was still bigger than you.

"What is it little brother?" You whispered the question. One of your hands trailed up his chest and trickled up his neck to grab the hair behind his head.

"I should walk you to your rooms" He cleared his throat, forcing himself out of your hold. He turned and began walking down the corridor, a plan forming in his head to get rid of Terren as fast possible.

"Terren should heal soon, maybe then he can finally ask father for my hand" You said as you reached your room not far from Terren, now noticed Aemond.

"What?" Aemond's head snapped in your direction, confused and blood boiling with anger. You were his older sister, the one that stood by his side this entire time, the one who actually cared and he would be damned to let you go.

"He asked for my hand and is awaiting my answer, I think I will accept" You grinned watching the light in Aemond's eye disappear and a feral kind of look took its place.

"Is that so?" He stepped closer to you. Before you could say anything he had opened the door to your room and pushed you inside and followed after you, making sure to lock the door behind him. You finally snapped him and you were more than glad you did.

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etherealbelphie · 10 months

Text

An Unwanted Interruption (Ft. Lucifer and GN!MC)

Warnings: Slight romantic implications? (Lucifer has a crush on the MC if you squint)

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I've had a bunch of Christmas/winter themed stories in my drafts for a while, I figured it was about time to polish them up and post them! This will be the first of many :D This is also somehow the second Lucifer-centric fic I've ever written. This concept had me giggling the entire time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy it!

I think I added all the right warnings, if I should add any, please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer had agreed to take you to the human world during the holiday season.

While Christmas in the Devildom was alright, they hadn’t begun celebrating the holiday until much more recently, when Christmas became less about religion and more about spending time with those you love.

Christmas in the Devildom didn’t have the same history and tradition that the human world did.

Which is why you were so ecstatic, even if you were only going to a mall for a few hours.

“Come on, let’s go!” You said impatiently, bouncing on your heels.

“The human world is cold this time of year, is it not?” Lucifer asked, buttoning up his jacket.

You could’ve sworn he started going even slower just to spite you.

“It’s cold, but it’s not that cold,” you emphasized, gesturing to your outfit. You two were going straight inside, and you didn’t feel like lugging a ton of winter gear around. “You know there’s heating in the mall, right?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but finished buttoning the rest of his coat quickly. He tugged on his gloves, then turned to you. “Very well, let’s get going then.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you a little closer. “So the both of us will be teleported,” he claimed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t be bothered to decipher -though it sounded vaguely Latin- and next thing you knew, the two of you were standing in an empty alleyway.

“Holy crap, we’re here!” You exclaimed, unable to look away from the snow glittering in the sunlight. Even as the cold wind whipped at you, you could still feel the faint traces of the sun’s warmth.

“Of course we’re here,” Lucifer scoffed. “Did you really think I’d fail?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, though your mock-irritation was quickly replaced by excitement once more. “Now, come on! I know where we are! The mall is this way!”

You grabbed his hand and began leading the way through the snowy streets. If Lucifer had a problem with that, he didn’t say so.

With the enthusiastic pace you’d set, the two of you had made pretty good time, and were by the front entrance no more than ten minutes later. The first set of automatic doors opened, and the two of you stepped inside.

You sighed in relief as a wave of warm air hit you, then you turned to Lucifer. “So, what did you want to do first?”

“I don’t have a preference,” He answered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. “I figured that I would allow you to choose what we did today, seeing as you’re more familiar with this environment than I am.”

“Oh!” You paused a second, thinking. Lucifer always took your opinions into consideration, of course, but him having none of his own was exceptionally rare. “Well, when I’m here, I usually go to-“

You noticed a woman had approached the two of you, patiently waiting for you to finish your conversation.

“Ah…can we help you?” Lucifer asked.

She smiled, pulling a book out of her bag— Oh no.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?”

You were certain you had an expression of absolute horror on your face and couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Thankfully, Lucifer took the reins and answered. “Oh, no thank you.” He smiled at the woman politely.

“At least take this, then?” She held the book in his direction, and he recoiled.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I can’t touch that. I may literally burst into flames.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were absolutely mortified or about to start crying from laughter.

“What, are you a Satanist?” She asked, scowling.

“Certainly not,” Lucifer said, sounding offended at the mere suggestion. “He wishes.”

That response was enough to push you over the edge, unable to contain your laughter. This prompted strange looks from literally everyone around you, but you didn’t care.

The woman stared at you a long, long moment before she finally turned around and left, which only made you laugh harder.

Lucifer looked at you a moment. Though his lips were pressed together, you could see him cracking a smile too.

“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaimed between fits. “I- I didn’t know what to do!”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time, and I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time someone approaches me about my father. I’ve gotten good at responding. You, on the other hand…” He simply smirked at you, which made you start laughing all over again.

#obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me luci #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x mc #obey me lucifer x main character #obey me luci x main character #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me christmas

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toomuchracket · 11 months

Text

my whole life, waiting for you: part 1 (ross x girlband gf!reader angst/fluff)

i don't know. i just wanted to write something. it's more pining/missing someone than actual angst, and there's more to come, at some point. loosely inspired by the seminal song super trouper by abba lol. i hope you like it <3

it's sunny in glasgow today. which is weird, especially for february.

but it's beautiful, ross thinks. it's a shame that a city so made up of sandstone doesn't get to see the sun so often; the buildings seem to glow when the daylight hits them, reflecting off the glass fronts of their newer neighbours, the intricate details in the stonework clearer than he's ever seen them before.

the people on the street below seem to glow in the sunshine, too, which is saying something given that ross's hotel room looks out onto hope street, to the flood of people heading to and from glasgow central station. at half 8 on a thursday morning, you'd expect a certain level of crabbiness (or crabbitness, in scotland) from them, as they make their way to another day of work and school and uni, but everyone's a bit more cheery today. scarves have been unravelled, jackets unzipped… there's even one guy walking about in a t-shirt and shorts as if it's mid-july.

ross smiles at the sight, but it doesn't last long.

you should be here seeing it all with him.

but you're still in london, hundreds of miles away, and he won't see you until he's back there himself. it's only four days away, but it's been ten since the last time you were together, and ross has decided that a fortnight apart is simply too long. especially after the months spent continents apart at the end of last year.

still, it's not like either of you can do anything about it. he's on tour. you're in the final days of production on your band's new album. there's no resentment, at least, because you've both been in the other's shoes, but there's pining, and a loneliness that no amount of calls and texts and facetimes can fully shift.

a knock on the door briefly interrupts it, though, and a familiar deep voice follows. "ross, mate, s'me."

george. ross opens the door, and is immediately pulled into a hug - a proper one, not a hyper-masculine bro hug - before his friend steps into the room and surveys the view. "nice day."

"yeah," ross nods, moving to stand next to george. "sun's nice."

the two men stand in silence for a minute, side by side, looking out at the city below. george turns to look at ross, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. "you alright today, mate?"

ross nods. "just… well, you know how it is. missing my girl."

"yeah, exactly," george nods too, then smiles. "m'happy for you, though. a bit pissed off that you didn't tell me until last night, but mostly happy."

"wasn't even planning on telling you, mate," ross huffs out a laugh. "the night just got the better of me."

the night, beginning with a two-hour long facetime with you after dinner that only exacerbated your respective lonelinesses. ross loves his job, absolutely fucking adores it, but as the days pass he's less and less reluctant to admit that the nomadic nature of touring is beginning to wear a bit thin for him. when you answered that call, tucked up in bed wearing what was unmistakably ross's slowdive t-shirt, brew in hand and glasses on… he did find himself wishing that the next show was the final one, so he could go home to you. and yet, despite that, talking to you did perk ross up a little bit, enough to make him agree to go for some drinks with the band and the techs and try to have a nice evening.

but the loneliness soon won out again, and the alcohol took over; forty-five minutes after everyone got to what ended up being the final pub of the night, ross was outside chaining cigs and thinking about your call again. george came out for his own smoke, found his friend near tears, and that's when ross spilled the whole story to him, the whole truth about you and him and your relationship. after eighteen months, your secret was finally released, in the middle of mitchell lane, under the neon lights and the moon and a cloud of marlboro smoke, at one o'clock in the morning.

"yeah, well, i'm glad you said," george grins. "she's great. i love her."

"so do i," ross sighs. "and i really, really miss her."

his friend nods. "only four days, though, for both of us. we'll manage. trust me, ross, it'll fly in. and it'll be good. two nights of glasgow shows, yeah?"

"if we were anywhere else, i'd be so much worse."

"i believe it. now," george picks up ross's jacket from the back of a chair and holds it out to him. "shall we take advantage of the nice day and go for a coffee with the boys?"

ross shrugs. "might as well."

***

"george says it's sunny today."

you slowly crack your eyelids open and look at charli blearily. "in glasgow?"

"i know! i didn't believe it either, until he sent me a pic. here," charli, admirably and enviably well-rested and energetic, thrusts her phone towards you.

"oh, yeah. pretty," you squint closer at the screen, noting the infamous 'people make glasgow' sign framed against a backdrop of clear blue sky. squinting further, you make out adam mid-stride towards the city chambers, turning back to look at an animated (probably making a shit joke about george and george square) matty and a smiling ross. a pang of longing hits you square in the chest as you look at your boyfriend and the crinkles by his eyes, drawing a lovesick sigh from your lips.

charli smiles softly at you, putting her phone down on the pull-down table and pulling you into a hug. "three hours to go, babe."

"i know. god, i must sound so stupid, sighing like a fucking war wife or some shit."

"not at all, it's cute," your friend says. "and i always thought you and ross would be cute. didn't i tell you that?"

"i don't think you ever said 'cute', per se, but you did say if we started an onlyfans together then you'd subscribe. so, kinda the same thing, i suppose."

"and i stand by that statement," charli giggles. her face softens. "were you and him, like, together, when i said that?"

"uh huh. had been for a year."

"jesus christ," she shakes her head. "i can't even be annoyed at you for keeping it a secret, because i'm just so fucking impressed you managed to do it for so long."

you shuffle in your seat to look out the window, the view a blurry patch of trees somewhere between london euston and glasgow central. "yeah, in hindsight, we probably shouldn't have hidden it for so long. i'm worried people are going to be upset that we did, when we tell them."

"by people… d'you mean matty?"

you nod, pressing your lips together in nervousness. it's definitely worse for ross, given their long friendship, but matty and george have become almost like older brothers to you through their support of you and your band, and so the fear of the former being hurt by the upcoming revelation is very real to you too.

"oh, he'll be too excited to be sad," charli grins, then giggles maniacally. "and too busy trying to convince you and ross to have musical-prodigy kids."

you think you wouldn't be opposed to that idea, but it still seems too soon to say it out loud.

"i hope you're right, charli," you say instead, although you can't keep the tiny smile from your face at the sweetly domestic thought. "you really think he won't be angry? or adam? christ, imagine upsetting adam! i'd never forgive myself."

"well, put it this way," charli moves so she can look you in the eye, taking your hands in her own. "i was woken up at 2am by george telling me you and ross were secretly together, and that i just had to drop everything today to get the train to glasgow with you so you could surprise him, and my overwhelming emotion was not anger, but excitement. so yeah, i think the boys'll be fine."

you squeeze her hands gratefully. "you took the 2am phone call better than i did," you snort. "i could've throttled your boyfriend for waking me up, babe. especially after the week i've had."

charli laughs. "just think, though - in a few hours, you'll have ross to kiss it better."

and what a nice thought that is. you're aware of your body sinking further into the plush train seat, but every other sense zones out the present completely in favour of remembering past kisses with your boyfriend; it isn't until charli actually pinches your bare forearm that you snap out of your romantic little daydream about ross's lips and tongue and hands.

she laughs when you frown at her, wriggling in her seat into what you've come to learn is her gossip pose. "your face just lit up there - i take it ross isn't lacking in kissing ability?"

you smirk. "not in the slightest."

"i love that for you. and what about ability," charli's volume drops as her brows lift. "... elsewhere?"

the smirk grows, and you gleefully swing your legs as much as you can without instigating an argument with the person sitting in front of you. "no comment."

"oh, you bitch," your friend lightly slaps your arm. "at least tell me if you're satisfied or not, please!"

your mind thinks back to the last night you saw your boyfriend, and to the beard burn still lingering on your inner thighs. "'satisfied' is an understatement."

"obsessed with that. obsessed with the two of you! tonight's going to go well. i can feel it."

deep down, you know charli's right. it's your friends you're telling about you and ross tonight. they love you. they want you to be happy.

you want that too. you want to be able to be the properly proud adoring girlfriend at the side of the stage tonight, cheering on ross and shouting "i love you"s and doing your utmost to get him to do that crinkly-eyed smile that makes your heart glow. all you have to do is be honest with your friends.

ross's eyes cross your mind again, for the millionth time today. yeah, tonight will go well - you'll make sure of it. for him.

#mads muses #mads does writing #girlband gf #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald x reader #ross x reader #ross macdonald angst

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ragingbookdragon · 2 years

Text

A Buck's As Good As Any

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of blood and cleaning

Author's Note: @lazybutsmexy Sara inspired the OT3 and now we're all gonna fall into this hole together. :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It had bothered him for days, and Ghost knew it by the time he finally came to him and brought it up.

A mid-Wednesday afternoon, drizzling and dreary in Manchester like usual, Ghost was content to spend the entire day wrapped in the gray sheets and heavy comforter of their bed, resting up on all the sleep he never got whenever they were working. Soap had left the bed earlier a few hours ago to go shopping, only returning minutes after. He heard the footsteps coming the way to the bedroom.

“Do you think she left us and went back to the US because she was uncomfortable?”

Ghost cracked an eye open, staring at Soap who stood in the entrance. “Why?”

“Because she didn’t say ‘See you soon’ or anything. She just left. Didn’t wake us up.” He frowned. “She would’ve told us if she was uncomfortable being with us, wouldn’t she? I mean I know she said she wasn’t, but what if she was? What if maybe she felt like she was intruding on us? What if we didn’t—”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, shutting his eyes. “Relax. We’ll catch a flight Friday to the mountains to see her and ask her ourselves.”

“We are?” he asked.

“We’re gonna if it’s going to keep you from wanking all the time.”

“I am not wanking.”

“Wanking, whining, same thing.”

“You’re such an ass.”

***

“Is this…really where she lives when she’s not working?” Soap asked, staring at the small, cozy wood cabin.

Ghost nodded. “That’s what Price said. This is the address and from what the neighbors said, this is it.” He walked up the steps. “Her Dodge is here…maybe she’s home.” He knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer, but after a few moments no one did and he knocked again. “She’s not home.”

“Where do you think she is?”

He shrugged. “Call her.”

Soap took out his phone, dialing her number; he stared at Ghost as it rang, impatiently tapping his foot until the line clicked. “Hello? Dame? Are you there?” He glanced at Ghost as a tapping echoed across the line. “Dame? She’s not answering.”

Ghost took the phone and put it on speaker. “Dame, single click yes, double no. Are you near your cabin.

Click.

“Are you injured?”

Click-click.

“Are you okay?”

Click.

“What are you doing?” Soap asked and Ghost glared at him.

“She’s obviously doing something where she can’t talk.”

Click.

“What the hell’s there to do here? We’re in the middle of nowhere?”

“We’re in the middle of a giant fucking forest, Johnny. What do you possibly think she could be doing if she wasn’t in town or in her house?”

Soap blinked. “Is she hunting maybe? Didn’t she mention a season or something on the last mission.”

Click.

“How long will you be, Dame? Less than an hour?”

Click.

Ghost nodded. “Are you almost done?” They awaited another click, yet it never came. “Dame? Are you—”

A crack echoed across the land and the two turned in the direction of the noise, watching a flock of birds escape the tops of the trees in the distance.

Her voice came over the line. “I’ll be back to the cabin in about ten minutes. Key’s underneath the third stepping stone in the rock garden.”

The line went dead and the two looked at one another before shrugging and finding the key.

***

They stood on the porch and waited for her to return, squinting into the distance as an ATV drove up the driveway and she pulled up, turning the engine off. “What are you boys up to over this side of the ocean?” she asked, slinging the rifle off her back to lay at the side of the four-wheeler. “Sorry I didn’t talk. This guy walked right in front of me when you called. I couldn’t risk him getting away.”

Ghost and Soap walked over, seeing the deer laying across the back of the ATV, a gunshot through its chest. They watched as she picked the buck up with a grunt and started carrying it to the shed behind the cabin; they followed.

“We were coming to talk,” Soap said, curiosity in his eyes as she opened the shed door with one hand, holding the deer’s feet with the other before dropping it inside. “Isn’t that heavy?”

“About one-fifty,” she said, shoving the metal hook through the deer’s back legs before she pulled away and hauled it up in the air. “So why did y’all come? Y’know I was gonna be back in a few weeks, right?”

“What?” his voice was pitched in confusion as she slid a bucket under the carcass.

“It’s hunting season here,” she muttered, wielding the cleaning knife with expert precision. “Step back, or you’ll get guts and blood on you.” Neither moved as she dug the knife into the deer’s chest, cutting cleanly all the way to its belly. “I tend to fly home during the seasons so I can shoot some game to have meat when I get back.”

They watched as she cleaned with skill, seemingly unbothered by the steam rising around them. The scent of blood was thick in the air and Soap had to step back outside to breath a little; Ghost remained. “What are y’all here to talk about?” Dame asked. “Can’t imagine it’s something unimportant since y’all flew halfway across the world.”

Before Soap could even say anything, Ghost deadpanned, “Johnny was afraid you were uncomfortable being in a relationship with both of us. That you were intruding. So, here we are.”

“Ghost!” Soap griped and she laughed.

“Oh no, I’m not uncomfortable boys,” she said. “Like I said, it’s hunting season. I had to get back to get a good buck before season ended. Can’t shoot bucks out of season or I’ll get fined and lose my license.”

“What’s a buck?”

“Male deer. Doe is a female,” she explained, pulling the deer by the leg to its antlers. “He’s about a thirteen pointer.” A grin pulled her lips. “Oh man, I can’t wait for Jackson to see this. He’s gonna shit a brick.”

“Who’s Jackson?” Soap asked, crossing his arms over his chest and she snickered.

“Easy there, boy, he’s an old friend of mine. And I say old because he’s seventy-five.”

“Oh…”

Ghost glared at him. “Will you quit being jealous? She’s not seeing anyone but us.”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Simon. He can’t help it.” She smiled at them. “This is going to take me an hour or so. Y’all go inside and get comfortable. It’s cold out here.”

Ghost didn’t have to be told twice, marching back up the way they’d come to go inside, yet Soap remained and she looked back at him.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” she questioned, wiping her hands on the apron. “You’ve got thinking eyes on.”

Soap shifted his weight between his feet. “Are…are you sure you’re not uncomfortable with this?”

Dame sighed and set the knife down. “John, at first…I was. I didn’t feel like it was a good idea to come between, no, join you and Simon. It did feel like I was intruding in a relationship. But,” she said calmly, gazing at him with a softness. “I know that you feel the same about me that you feel about Simon. It’s how I feel about both of you and how he feels about us.” She made sure her hand was dry, even if it was covered in blood, and held it out for him to take; he did so. “I didn’t leave because I was uncomfortable. I left to come home and get things organized for next season.”

Soap frowned. “You only left a note. You didn’t wake us up.”

“I know,” she murmured. “And that’s on me. My flight left early, and I didn’t want to disturb you both. We three barely get enough sleep as it is.” She squeezed his hand. “Next time, I’ll wake you both up. I promise.”

“Next time,” he griped. “We’re coming with you.”

She laughed. “Alright, boy, if that’s how you feel about it.” Pulling away, she grabbed the knife again. “Now go inside, would you? I’ll be back in when I’m done.”

“Can Ghost and I go into town?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because without me, you’re gonna get in a bar fight with some good ole boys and I do not want to explain to Sheriff Doherty why my boyfriends beat the shit outta the entire bar.” When he said nothing, she turned, seeing him wearing a dopey smile. “What.”

“You called us your boyfriends.”

“Go inside or I’ll clean you with this knife next,” she threatened, waving the knife at him and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine, lass, I’m goin’.”

As he turned, she called out, “John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you and Ghost came to see me.” She smiled at him. “I missed you both.”

He smiled back at her. “We missed you.”

651 notes · View notes

di-in-al · 26 days

Text

~Drifting into Desire~ PART III

>Warnings: Profanity. Smoking.

>Word Count: 8.5k

>Tags 18+ future smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters over age 21 + 1990s themed + no quirks + reader insert

>A/N: Hello hello! This is a chunky chapter, so I hope you enjoy the ride!

>taglist: @simp-plague

part II

~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~

The annoying sound of your phone ringing woke you up. In your sleepiness it was like a siren, piercing your ears. You could tell it was still early, not feeling the suns rays peeking through your window. The digital clock on your nightstand read an absurdly early time.

4:00 AM. Fuck that.

It rang seven times, each one getting ignored. Silence filled your room once again, and you could feel your mind slipping back into sleep.

Not even a full minute passes before its ringing again, causing you to bury your head under your pillow. It only helps slightly, not nearly enough for you to completely block it out. Each ring gets more and more shrill, causing a deep groan to travel to your throat. At this rate, Momo is gonna wake up. Throwing the covers off of your body, it recoils with the cool air of the room. Trudging over to your phone, you yank it off of the wall.

“Can I fucking help you?” Did you mean to sound that angry? No. Did it feel good? Most definitely.

A deep chuckle came from the other side, and it caused your anger to swell.

“Well good morning sunshine,” The monotone voice of your uncle came from the other end. “You ready for your first day at school? You’re already late by the way.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This early?

“What the fuck? Do you know what time it is?” Your hand came up to wipe the sleep from your eyes, your mind trying to even come to realize you're on earth. Without a second thought, you hear him reply.

“4:02. Meaning you’re two minutes late as of right now.” You hear the sound of him sipping on something. “You have until I finish this coffee before I leave and this whole thing is off.”

Panic shoots through you. Knowing your insomniac uncle, he can kill a cup of coffee in less than ten minutes. It takes a minimum of twenty to get to the Pass.

“I always forget, you’re not much of a talker in the mornings. Consider this your first lesson, kid. I'll be at the top.”

“Fine,” you snapped, tossing your hair over your shoulders. You threw open your closet, rummaging through clothes until you spotted your favorite racing outfit: a fitted black tank top and high-waisted cargo pants. As you pulled them on, your fingers brushed over the rough fabric, igniting familiar embers of determination. Grabbing the keys from the side table, you sprinted down the stairs, each step echoing your urgency.

You swung open the front door and dashed toward your wine-red Mazda, heart hammering in your chest. The engine roared to life, a familiar growl that pulsed through your veins, igniting adrenaline. You tore out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the asphalt, the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber filling your senses.

It took you two minutes to get ready, that means there’s eight minutes left. You add more weight to the accelerator, listening as your car whines with the added speed. Your gears were maxed out, taking the straight highway helped with cutting a couple extra seconds off.

A mix of buildings and lights blurred as you flew past them, each street light illuminating your face for a fraction of a second. The off ramp for the mountain pass came up quick, making you downshift swiftly and throw the back end of your car out into a drift. Drifting the complete semi-circle, you downshift one more time, this time to gain some speed.

Checking your watch, the panic rises again. Four minutes. Fuck!

Your best time coming up the mountain is five minutes and forty seconds. You gotta find a way to shave off a whole minute. You’re usually lucky to beat your own time by maybe ten seconds.

You need this. You couldn’t be able to live down missing an opportunity like this. Your uncle was a stern man, so you knew he wouldn’t offer up any form of a second chance.

The first curve of the mountain pass was coming up, knowing the entirety of the mountain like the back of your hand. You gotta go faster. Slamming on the breaks, you whip the car into the curve making sure to keep on the inside. Slowly, pulsing the accelerator, you swiftly come through the curve while still maintaining your speed. A straightaway meets your eyes, your body slumping with relief. Your hand travels back and forth between the steering wheel and the shifter, the movement so quick you don’t even register it. At this point every aspect of being in this car was muscle memory.

You and the car become one, tackling the uphill with a ferocity you’ve never experienced. It excited you, the pressure of the entire thing driving you forward. Your eyes shifted to the rearview, noticing a determined yet happy expression filling your face, despite the earliness of the morning.

You had butterflies everytime the inertia of the car would change, your eyes catching your watch as your hands gripped the wheel. One minute. You still had about a quarter of the mountain to climb.

Don’t focus on the time, focus on the road. Once you’ve conquered the road, time won’t be an issue. Time to amp it up.

You slam your food down, sending the accelerator to hug the floorboard. The gauge in front of you began climbing, your determination sending it to redline. With each new gear, you maxed out the rpm’s. Each turn brought you one step closer to your goal. You quickly forget about your watch, and your heart burns with the idea of finishing the uphill. Two more hairpin curves and you’d be finished.

They approached quickly, making your heart clench with the thought of taking each turn. It wasn’t a nervous feeling, but one of a warrior headed into battle. The first turn came, keeping your car close to the inside, your back end flung out into a quick spiral up both curves.

Coming out of the last turn, you notice a person standing under a streetlight. You recognized the lazy stance of your uncle, and came to a quick stop in front of him. He tossed the last of his coffee back and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He was laid back against his car, an AE-86, which to the normal eye, seems very underwhelming. However, with your uncle behind the wheel, it's a car that has been stopped by few. You noticed he had another coffee in his other hand, and wondered. Either he got no sleep last night and needed extra, or it might be for you.

You prayed it was for you.

“You made it just in time,” he said, tilting his head, and there was an edge of approval beneath his stern facade. “Record time?”

You grinned. “Just barely. I think I can shave off a few more seconds next time.”

Shota’s gaze hardened. “Next time won’t matter if you can’t keep your nerve today. Today is the real test," he said, his tone unyielding. "Get in my car."

Your stomach flipped, mixing excitement with dread. You slipped into the passenger seat, feeling the warmth of the leather against your skin, and adjusted your seatbelt with a swift tug. Shota slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a flick of his wrist. Carefully, you watched as he set the steaming cup of coffee into an awaiting cup holder.

“Let’s see what you can handle,” he said, securing his grip on the steering wheel. A hint of challenge glinted in his eyes, and you felt your pulse quicken as the engine roared to life. Your eyes inspected the cup of coffee, sitting content in its spot. With the harshness of the road, you wondered what your uncle’s plan was. If it spilled, it would send scalding coffee all over your lap.

“Buckle up,” Shota commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

In an instant, the two of you shot forward, the car accelerating with a powerful thrust. As the landscape blurred past, the steering wheel felt like an extension of his will. Shota navigated the road with an unwavering focus, each turn a dance of precision and control.

You leaned forward, gripping the dash, your eyes wide as the world outside dissolved into streaks of color.

It felt like you were riding shotgun not just in his car, but also in the masterclass of what it meant to dominate the mountain. Shota navigated the twists and turns with an intimidating grace, his coffee cup remaining steady in the cup holder as you blazed down the path.

“Focus on the road, not me,” he replied, his voice steady as they near a tight corner, the tires screeching just enough to rattle your bones.

You narrowed your eyes at the road, willing yourself to let go of the tension coiling in your gut.

“Trust the car and your instincts,” he spoke up, not taking his gaze off the road. “Every ounce of pressure, every pull of the throttle—it’s all about understanding the machine beneath you. Feel its rhythm.”

You nodded, trying to absorb his words as you approached a sweeping curve. You studied his movements, mimicking the way he shifted his weight, angling his body slightly toward the turn. You felt the adrenaline surge again, a determination igniting in your chest.

“Do you really think I can get there?” you asked.

“Only if you stop second-guessing yourself,” Shota replied, flicking his eyes toward you for a brief moment. “Your mind is your worst enemy. Focus.”

You tightened your grip on the passenger seat as you transitioned through another sharp turn.

“You think these roads care about your fear?” his tone was the same as if he stood in front of his students, lazily lecturing them. His entire body was relaxed, but you shifted your eyes back to the pavement. You didn’t want to be caught again. Riding with him was something you haven’t been able to experience since you were young, knowing nothing of the way these whips and turns filled you with burning emotions.

You held your breath as Shota accelerated into the next curve, the G-forces pressing you into the seat. “It’s either drive or be driven,” he added, his intensity vibrant, a spark igniting a fire in your chest.

The tight curve loomed ahead, the edge of the mountain a steep drop, and you felt your heart leap.

Shota’s grip on the wheel tightened, and you mirrored his intensity. You focused on the line ahead, every instinct shouting at you to brace for the turn. As you approached the apex, every muscle in your body went tense, fear and excitement weaving together. Shota leaned into the turn, expertly guiding the car as it clung to the road.

“Now!” he shouted, turning sharply into the curve, the tires screeching defiantly against the pavement. You felt the rush, the wild exhilaration of speed and freedom coursing through your veins. You swung into a series of rapid bends, the world outside morphing into nothing but a blur of greens and browns. The coffee tipped towards the paper edge of the cup, inching as if it might spill. But with a quick switch up, it leveled out, sitting contently along with you.

“Keep your eyes on the exit, not the curve!” Shota’s voice broke through your swirling thoughts, a commanding reminder tethering you to the reality of the race.

He made his way back down the twists and turns of the Pass. He takes you back to your own car and passes off the cup of coffee. You cradled the cup in your hands, feeling the warmth seep through your fingers, grounding you. You looked at Shota, who stood beside you with arms crossed, eyes fixed on you intently, the hint of expectation shifting his expression.

“Now, let’s see if you can manage this,” he said, the challenge ringing unmistakably in his voice.

You looked down at the unspilled coffee, wondering how he could've even managed it? You glanced back at Shota, determination flooding your senses as you took a steadying breath.

“So, you think this is all I have to do?”

“Just get behind the wheel and show what you’ve learned,” Shota replied, his gaze unwavering. “Your goal is simple: drive without spilling a drop. Focus isn’t just for the racing line; it’s for execution.”

You took a deep breath, balancing the cup in your hand, the steam curling up in the cold mountain air. Your eyes stared at the little coffee cup as if it were a challenge sent from the gods themselves, daring you to rise to the occasion.

“Alright,” You said, your voice now steady with resolve. “Let’s see how this goes.”

You approached your Mazda, slipping into the driver’s seat and adjusting the rear view mirror, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. Shota remained close, his imposing presence lending you a cautious boost of confidence.

“Keep it tight around the corners and maintain your speed,” he instructed, crossing his arms again, eyes glinting with challenge. “This is about control, not chaos.”

With a nod, you rolled your shoulders back and turned the key in the ignition, the familiar purr of your Mazda filling you with ease. You placed the coffee cup in the cup holder, its gentle warmth spreading through the air like a quiet promise. Taking a deep breath, you shifted into gear and moved forward, the engine humming softly beneath you.

“Don’t forget, the interview is coming up soon. Focus on the drive now, but remember the stakes.”

You nodded, your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you pulled away from the clearing, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you eased into motion.

“Let’s do this,” you muttered under your breath, your heart thumping in sync with the rhythmic pulse of the engine.

-.-

Everyday, you wake up early and take a trip down the mountain with your uncle. The process was the same every morning, before the sun showed its face you’d pull up to a waiting Aizawa. He’d hand you a coffee and the two of you would take a trip down the mountain. He’d follow you in his car, watching every movement you made. Being behind a driver can tell you a lot about them, this allows you to read your opponent like a book.

The first day was horrendous, having to stop to clean up coffee from your floorboards after every run.

Aizawa made sure you bring cleaning supplies on day two, because you definitely needed them again.

It had been a month of running these roads, and the morning of the interview started like every other. You woke up early and made your way to an awaiting Shota at the top of the mountain. The sun barely crested over the mountain, casting a soft glow across the asphalt ahead. You leaned against your MX-5, your fingers tapping against the cool metal as you watched Shota finish his cup of coffee.

"Ready to show what you’ve got?" Shota called, tilting his head toward you with a glint of challenge in his eyes.

You square your shoulders, the adrenaline already building.

"Always," you shot back, sliding into the driver’s seat, your racing outfit hugging you with the familiar sense of purpose.

Shota smirked, walking towards his car. He placed the coffee in its spot by the passenger seat. “Today’s the day you prove everything the lessons have been leading up to. Let’s conquer that final turn.”

You turned the key, the familiar roar of the engine igniting a fire in your veins.

“Let’s make it count,” you replied, tightening your grip on the steering wheel.

As you sped off, the mountain loomed around the two of you, the winding road stretching like a challenge laid out in front of you. The fresh scent of pine and the cool bite of the early morning air jolted your senses as you ascended the narrow path. You focused on the road, recalling every piece of advice Shota had etched into your mind. You made it through the majority of the Pass without spilling the coffee, but you knew a certain hairpin curve was coming up. This curve twisted sharply, a notorious spot known for catching even the most skilled drivers off guard.

The curve emerged before you, a steel trap waiting to snap shut. You leaned slightly into the turn, letting your instincts guide you.

The asphalt shifted beneath your tires as you entered the curve, heart hammering in rhythm with the car’s roar. You let off the gas slightly, feeling the weight of the Mazda lean into the turn as the tires gripped the road. The coffee flew to the rim of the cup, tempting to find itself on your floorboard again.

Not this time.

With eyes locked on the exit, you remembered Shota's words—focus on the exit, not the entry. Your foot danced over the accelerator, allowing just the right amount of throttle to carry you through.

As you guided the car through the curve, adrenaline surged through your veins, and the world outside melted away. The trees blurred into streaks of green and brown, shadows flickering across the windshield like a haunting memory. For a heartbeat, all that existed was the road beneath your tires and the hum of the engine echoing your resolve.

Taking a peek through the rearview mirror, you noticed the turn was finally behind you. The coffee sat in its spot, completely full.

Yes!

Finishing out, you and your uncle parked side by side. Taking a peek into your car, Shota took note of the full coffee cup. Shota leaned back, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Nice work,” Shota said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. He shifted in his seat, the remnants of his coffee still swaying gently in its cup.

“Now for the real test,” he added, his eyes narrowing with consideration. "Your interview."

Your uncle informs you that the interview is at 3 today. He sluggishly gets back into his car mumbling something about getting some sleep.

"Good luck, Y/N."

“Thanks, Shota,” you replied, your heart still racing. Anxiety and excitement bubbled within you, but for now, you focused on your final training run.

He settled into the driver's seat of his own car, a familiar creak of worn leather slicing through the morning calm. His car roars to life, and sets off quickly.

You had another important decision to worry about now. What were you going to wear? All you had back at the apartment was typical everyday clothes, and maybe a dress or two. You sat in your car, the engine still purring softly beneath you, as you wondered about your outfit. The road ahead seemed to mirror your internal turmoil—twisting and turning, the uncertainty reflecting the chaos in your mind. You could always ask Ochako and Momo for some help. You had plenty of time before your interview.

Making your way back to the apartment, you're met with both people you need sitting on Momo's balcony sharing some tea. You parked your Mazda in a spot, its engine still purring softly as you stepped out. The smell of freshly brewed tea wafted from the balcony, pulling you in like an invisible thread. It was a nice change from the aroma of coffee.

"Y/N! Come join us!" Ochako's bright voice caught your attention, and you gave a small chuckle.You walked towards the balcony, your nerves bubbling beneath the surface like the water in the kettle on the stove. Momo looked up, her smile warm and inviting.

"How did the driving session go?” Momo asked, pouring a steaming cup before setting it down beside her.

“Perfect.” You shrugged, though your excitement bubbled in the corner of your eyes. “I managed to keep the coffee in the cup this time.” You bit your lip, a grin breaking through as you recounted the moment.

"Yay! That's great!" Ochako's rosy cheeks scrunched with excitement. “Even though, I think that’s a very unique driving technique. Oh well! I’m sure it helps. What are your plans for today, Y/N?”

"Actually, I have a favor to ask. I need some clothes for this interview, do you think the two of you could help?" Momo exchanged an excited glance with Ochako, her eyes gleaming.

“Absolutely! I have just the outfit in mind. We want to make sure you look confident and stylish.”

“Nothing too flashy, right?” you said, half-joking while rubbing your neck.

“Mmm, being understated isn't really our style,” Ochako teased with a wink, bouncing in her wrought iron seat. You smirked, shaking your head.

“I’m pretty sure confidence doesn’t mean neon pink and sequins.”

Momo held up a finger, feigning deep thought. “It might just mean something that shouts ‘I’m here to dominate’ without blinding anyone.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Okay, so what do you suggest? Something more subtle or something that doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard?"

Momo leaned back in her chair, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “How about a fitted blouse to accentuate your figure, paired with some high-waisted trousers? It’ll be sleek but not overly flashy.”

You nodded, your mind racing through the options. “That could work. "

Ochako slung the rest of her tea back, standing up and grabbing your arm.

"I know just the place!"

Within thirty minutes you found yourself following after your friends, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The streets of Musutafu buzzed with early-morning energy, but your focus settled solely on the mission ahead—finding the perfect outfit. As you entered the small boutique, the door chimed softly, and a wave of warmth enveloped you. The scent of fresh fabric and the delicate notes of perfume tugged at your senses. After some rigorous searching, you found yourself trying on a sleek black blouse that hugged your torso with just the right amount of formality, paired with high-waisted trousers that flared slightly at the bottom, creating an effortless elegance. You twirled in front of the mirror, the fabric flowing around your legs with each movement.

“What do you think?” You asked, your voice laced with uncertainty. They had picked out a pair of stilettos, but you eyed them warily from the corner. Momo and Ochako exchanged glances, a knowing twinkle in their eyes.

“It’s perfect,” Momo affirmed, a bright smile lighting up her face.

“But the heels?” you hesitated, eyeing the stilettos as if they might bite.

Ochako laughed, a light melodic sound that eased the tension in your chest. “Trust us, you need them. They’ll give you that extra edge, that ‘I’m not just here to play’ vibe.”

You inhaled deeply, considering the heels. “I guess a little height never hurt. Alright, I’ll wear them.”

Momo clapped her hands once, vibrating with excitement. “Perfect! Now let’s finish this look with some accessories.”

Minutes later, you stood in front of the mirror, your reflection adorned with minimalistic silver earrings and a slender bracelet that caught the light just right. You turned slightly, admiring how the sunlight glinted off the delicate silver.

“You look so good!!” Ochako beamed, adjusting the collar of the blouse as if adding the finishing touch. The three of you made your way to the check out and you went to change into the new outfit. Checking the time, you realize it's time to go. You hurriedly buttoned the blouse, the fabric smooth against your skin. As you slipped into the tailored trousers and finally secured the heels, your heartbeat quickened.

“I really need to get moving,” you muttered, glancing at your reflection one last time. The clothes hugged your frame perfectly, the heels adding just the right height to give you confidence, but the clock had become your enemy.

“Let’s go, then!” Momo urged, her optimism bubbling as you all rushed down the street toward the parking lot.

“Do you have everything?” Ochako asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and urgency.

“Wallet, keys…,” you murmured as you rifled through your bag, double-checking the essentials while balancing on your heels. "Looks like I’m all set."

“Good. Now let’s see how you handle those heels in the parking lot,” Momo teased, grinning as she led the way.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. “I think I can manage a few steps without coming apart at the seams.”

You rushed off, the idea of city traffic looming over you like a dark cloud.

You quickly opened your car door, your heels clicking against the asphalt as you dropped into the driver's seat.

The ride wasn't bad until that dark cloud came to fruition. The combination of traffic and the almost overwhelming anticipation of the interview gripped you as you navigated through the city. Cars crawled in front of you like a pack of slow-moving tortoises, and frustration gnawed at your patience. Each red light felt like a personal affront, stealing precious seconds from your time.

“Come on! Move already!” you muttered, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, the rhythm syncing with your rising anxiety.

“Relax, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, trying to regain some control over your spiraling thoughts. “Breathe.”

If you could just make it a couple more feet, you know a shortcut through the mountain pass. With a sudden jolt of determination, you spotted a break in traffic and made your move. You turned sharply, the wheels of the Mazda squealing in protest as you directed the car toward the road leading into the mountain pass. The familiar climb beckoned, a siren’s call amidst the chaotic urban sprawl you had just escaped.

As the trees thickened and the asphalt stretched out in front of you like a ribbon unraveling from a gift, you felt the swell of freedom wash over you. The familiar curves of the mountain pass welcomed you like an old friend, the trees whispering secrets in the wind. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, the Mazda responding to your eagerness with a familiar purr.

Catching the rearview, you noticed a car coming up behind you at a rapid pace. From the looks of it, it was an Evo III. A well known drift car. The sleek, gleaming body of the Evo III glinted as it surged forward, engine roaring like a beast eager to break free. You narrowed your eyes, determination settling in your chest as you shifted slightly in your seat, pouring your focus into the road ahead.

“Great, just what I needed,” you muttered under your breath, your knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. The driver of the Evo III lurked closer, a challenge hanging in the air between you. You recognized the fierce competitive spirit in the other driver’s approach, a flicker of annoyance sparking within you.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you murmured, determination flooding your veins.

As the Evo III pulled alongside you, revving his engine. Whoever it was kept the windows rolled up, not showing their face. So you decided to keep yours up too. Your heart raced in rhythm with the roar of the Evo III's engine, the familiar adrenaline igniting a fire within you. You could almost taste the challenge in the air, hot and electric but the intruding thought of your interview came crashing down.

“Not now,” you hissed, your fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The Evo III revved again, a taunt echoing in the space between you as if the driver understood your internal conflict and thrived on it.

You clenched your jaw, determination pushing you forward.

"This isn’t the time, but…" you inhaled deeply, your eyes narrowing as you shifted your foot onto the accelerator. The Mazda MX-5 surged into motion, the familiar weight of the car shooting you forward like a bullet leaving a chamber.

The Evo III matched your pace, its engine growling defiantly as the two cars barreled down the mountain pass in tandem. The thrill of the race pulsed in your veins, igniting every fiber of your being. You glanced over at the driver in the Evo III, but the window remained tinted, concealing their identity. You pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the road that twisted like a serpent before you. You needed to finish this, and fast. The asphalt unfurled in a series of undulating curves, beckoning you to dance with the road. The rush of wind whisked past you, mingling with the roar of both engines as they flew through the first corner. The world outside became a blur of greens and browns, trees whipping by in a frenzied streak.

“Let’s go!” you shouted, feeling the exhilaration spiral into a fierce focus as you leaned into the next curve, pressing the accelerator hard and feeling the tires grip the road. The Evo III’s driver responded in kind, maneuvering skillfully around the bend, a slight advantage giving him the edge as he surged forward.

You gritted your teeth, your determination boiling as the Evo III pulled slightly ahead.

“Not today,” you grumbled, your foot pressing down harder. The Mazda MX-5 roared beneath you, responding to your urgency as you flung herself into the next turn.

“Focus!” you reminded yourself, aggravation starting to fill you. As the curve tightened, you felt the shift in weight, and you leaned into it, guiding your Mazda MX-5 with precision.

“Just like Shota taught me,” you murmured. You powered through, trying to come up with a way to lose this guy. The Mazda MX-5’s engine sang, its growl resonating through your body as you aimed for the exit of the turn. Trees flanked the road like silent spectators, their branches swaying in the wind as if cheering you on. You kept your focus sharp, gripping the wheel with fierce determination.

The Evo III drove ahead, but you spotted an opening. Leaning into the turn just enough, you swung around, gears clashing smoothly as adrenaline surged through you.

“Now or never!” You felt the power of your car wrap around you like a living thing, commanding your every move as you swung onto the inside line of the corner, tires gripping the asphalt with an eager bite. The world outside blurred in a symphony of green as the Evo III's driver glanced over, surprise written across the unknown face behind the tinted glass. It was a fleeting moment, but it fueled your resolve. You pushed harder, feeling the sweet surge of acceleration lift your spirits as the gap between you and the Evo III grew.

“Catch me if you can,” you taunted, your voice barely rising above the roar of the engines.

The curves melted into a blur, the Evo slowly disappearing from behind you.

You kept on your path, the idea of the interview no longer seeming as daunting. You made it to the fancy looking building , its sleek facade shimmering in the midday sun. The MX-5 rolled to a smooth stop in the parking lot, your heart racing with exhilaration and nerves as you killed the engine. You took a deep breath, letting the buzz of adrenaline wash over you like a refreshing wave. You glanced down at your outfit—a sharp contrast to the casual attire you usually wore behind the wheel.

Carefully making your way up to the building's lobby, you straightened your outfit and put on an air of false confidence.

Fake it till you make it.

-.-

A distant roar echoed through the streets as you pulled into the parking lot, your heart racing from the adrenaline of the interview and the thrill of the road. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the asphalt.

About halfway through your interview, which wasn't even with your supposed new mentor, you realized you promised the crew you'd go watch some races tonight. The interview was strung out longer than you could've ever expected.

So now you are racing through the streets to make it back to the pass, hoping to make it before they start the first race. The hum of the Mazda's engine throbbed beneath you as you navigated the winding roads. You leaned into the curves, every turn a reminder of the lessons etched into your brain by Uncle Shota. The bottom of the pass approached, and you rounded the last corner with a rush of excitement. As you emerged from the final bend, the scene unfolded before you like a vivid painting—cars lined up, lights flickering, and a crowd buzzing with anticipation.

There seemed to be a crowd, all circled around two guys. A tall blond stood at the center, his expression fierce enough to intimidate even the boldest of racers. The glare in his eyes sparked a buzz among the onlookers, who gathered in a ring of excitement, whispering among themselves. With the arrival of your car, everyone's head whipped around. Including the set of angry vermillion eyes.

Parking your car, you watched as a stressed Momo followed the blond brute who was fastly approaching you.

Holding a muscled arm up, he pointed his index finger towards you. "You."

You bristled at his rough voice, shutting your car door and standing on the uneven gravel beneath you.

"You think you can just stroll in here after racing my team and not face the consequences?" His voice cut through the noise like a knife, confidence oozing from every word.

You straightened, "...and who the fuck are you?" You matched his sharp words with some of your own.

He stepped closer, his breath warm and heavy with challenge.

"Name's Katsuki Bakugo," he snapped, fists clenching. "You raced my boys earlier. You think you can just show off and walk away?”

Shoving a thumb back in the direction of his crew, he gestured to a tall redhead standing next to an Evo.

“Your little joyride at the pass?" His brow furrowed, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You smoked Kirishima, and now you think you can just waltz away without a rematch?”

Said Kirishima stepped forward, a sheepish grin on his face. “Hey, it was a good race! She's got skills, man. Don’t take it personally.”

Bakugo shoved a hand through his spiky hair. “Don’t you dare defend her, dumbass. If anyone’s taking this on the chin it’s gonna be me.”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “He lost fair and square. I’m not going to apologize for putting up a fight. I didn't think his daddy would come running to his defense." The crowd exploded in a mixture of gasps and laughter, each person eager for the drama to unfold. Bakugo's eyes ignited with rage, and the air crackled with tension.

“Watch who you’re calling daddy princess,” he snapped, stepping even closer so you could smell the metallic tang of his frustration. “You might end up in a situation your smart mouth can't handle."

The crowd shifted, sensing the brewing storm. You locked eyes with Bakugo, refusing to back down.

“You think I’m scared of you? Bring it on.” The corner of Bakugo's mouth twitched, a smirk breaking through his intense glare. “You’re either brave or just plain stupid.”

“Maybe a little of both,” you shot back, your heart pounding in your chest. The thrill of the challenge surged through you. Bakugo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Fine, I’ll give you a rematch. But how about we do it right? A proper one-on-one. No tricks, just you and me on the line,” Bakugo proposed, his voice lower but dripping with challenge.

“Two races,” Kirishima cut in, his grin brightening as he nudged you. “Me against you, Y/N, and then Bakugo against Izuku. If we’re doing this, let’s do it properly,” he grinned, a spark of excitement evident in his voice.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation, eyes darting between you and Bakugo as the stakes grew higher.

Bakugo growled at Kirishima's words, hearing a name that has brought him nothing but annoyance. "Fuckin' Deku."

“Then let’s put it to the test. You want a rematch?” You leaned forward, the heat of competition igniting your veins. “Let’s make it official.”

The crowd murmured, feeding into the tension. Bakugo’s lip curled into a smirk, a hint of excitement breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor.

“Looks like you’ve got some guts after all,” he replied, a challenge lacing his tone. The crowd shifted again, hearts racing in anticipation.

“Let’s see if you can actually back that up,” he taunted, his voice almost playful, but the intensity in his eyes was far from lighthearted.

As the sun dipped lower, casting jagged shadows across the asphalt, you felt the weight of the mountain pass looming behind you. You steeled yourself, determination fueling your every thought.

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” you said, confidence swirling within you as you slid back into your Mazda, the familiar roar of the engine igniting a fire in your chest.

Momo stood off to the side, face pale as she watched Bakugo walk off.

"What are you doing?! Are you seriously going to race him?" Momo's voice trembled, her eyes darting between you and the retreating figure of Bakugo. “You know who he is, right?”

"Yeah, I know. The King of Musutafu Pass," you replied, climbing back into your car and adjusting the rear view mirror. “And now, his crown’s on the line.” Momo stepped forward, urgency seeping into her voice.

“You’re serious? What if he—”

“Don’t worry, Momo.” You interrupted, glancing at her with a smirk, feeling the adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “He may be good, but I’m not the same driver I was a month ago.”

Momo hesitated, biting her lip. “Just be careful, please,” she urged, concern etched in her features as she leaned closer, trying to gauge the strength of your resolve.

“Careful is my middle name,” you quipped, taking off to meet up with Kirishima at the top of the mountain. Momo gave a small chuckle at your words, knowing that it was the furthest from the truth.

Shinso walked up, putting a hand on your elbow.

“Hey, are you really going to take him on?” Shinso’s voice cut through the haze of excitement, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Of course,” you replied, a challenging smile stretching across your face. “You heard him—he wants a rematch. I can't back down now.”

Shinso's expression darkened, his tone serious. “He’s not just some brash racer; he's known for his temper and his skill. You could get seriously hurt.”

The weight of his concern settled in your chest, but you shrugged it off. “I’ve trained for this, and besides, Shota's been preparing me. I can handle it.”

Shinso studied you for a moment, the tension in his brow easing slightly, though the worry still lingered in his eyes.

Getting back into your car, he shut the door behind you.

"I gotta go prepare the kid, he's probably shitting himself right now." He motioned towards Izuku, who was standing still as a statue as Momo filled him in.

"Nice shoes by the way. I wanna see those later." With a wink, he's off in Izuku's direction.

Putting the car into first gear, you show out and whip around the empty parking lot, the engine roaring to life beneath you. The metal vibrated with energy as you pulled onto the road, navigating the curves toward the mountain. The familiar route ignited memories of the countless hours spent training with Shota, every sharp turn a lesson learned, every straightaway a test of speed and control. As you wound your way up the mountain, the anticipation twisted in your stomach like a coiled spring, each corner pushing your focus to the limit.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, the smooth surface comforting under your palms. As you reached the top of the mountain pass, the flickering headlights of cars illuminated the gathering crowd. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, radiating from everyone who had come to witness the duel between you and Bakugo. You pulled into the designated spot, the roar of your engine fading into a low hum as you turned off the ignition. The crowd around you erupted into hushed whispers, their eyes darting towards your car as if you were the main event in a high-stakes show. You unbuckle your seatbelt, taking a moment to breathe in the cool mountain air, tinged with the faint scent of pine and fuel. Cool night air brushed against your face, refreshing amidst the rising tension.

Kirishima bounded over, excitement bubbling in his expression.

“You’re here! Bakugo can be a bit much. I'm sorry. The name's Kirishima, let's have a manly race, yeah?" His toothy grin was on full display.

You chuckled, the warmth of his enthusiasm cutting through the tension. “Yeah, let’s see if you can keep up this time, Kirishima.”

“Ha! You’re on!” His grin widened as he bounced on his heels, energy radiating off him like sunlight.

A voice came crackling through a walkie talkie on Kirishima's hip.

"Bakugo and Deku are both ready." Kirishima turned, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Looks like the show is about to begin!” He pumped his fist, a burst of energy that echoed in the mounting tension surrounding the race. Without a second to spare, the sounds of roaring motors can be heard all the way at the top.

Unfortunately for Izuku, Bakugo's RX-7 was too much. From the constant reports coming through the walkie-talkie, it was clear that Bakugo had left Izuku in his dust, pulling ahead in a blaze of speed that rippled through the crowd's excitement.

The roar of Bakugo’s RX-7 echoed through the mountain pass, creating a symphony of adrenaline as the crowd erupted with cheers. His bright headlights rolled up to the two of you, coming to a stop mere inches from your legs. The engine purred ominously as Bakugo leaned out the window, his smug grin barely containing the competitive fire within.

Izuku came trailing in noot too much longer, stepping out with a solemn look on his face. His shoulders sagged as he approached, catching his breath.

“I-I tried my best,” he managed, wiping sweat from his brow. “He’s really fast, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but you're getting better, Izuku," you assured him, a reassuring smile lifting the corners of your mouth. "Just keep practicing those techniques."

Bakugo snorted from his car, leaning further out of the window, his fierce gaze locking onto you.

“As if that’ll help him. You think a few tricks are gonna save you when I beat you?” His voice dripped with disdain.

You had to beat Kirishima first, nerves beginning to bubble in your gut. Kirishima landed a strong pat to your back and headed towards his Evo.

It's time. You took a deep breath, forcing the nerves aside as you walked towards your Mazda. The gravel crushed underfoot, each step grounding you in reality.

“Ready to make this a race to remember?” Kirishima asked, his voice light but laced with competitive spirit. He leaned against the side of his Evo, the engine still warm, gleaming under the fading light.

“Is this a race or a vacation?” You retorted, confidence surging as you climbed into your car.

Kirishima chuckled, his grin widening. “I like your style. Let’s make this a race that’ll get everyone talking.”

You revved the engine, the familiar growl vibrating beneath you, matching the racing in your heart. “Just don’t cry when I smoke you at the finish line. Again.” You shot him a confident smirk, the thrill pulsing through you as adrenaline surged from within.

Kirishima leaned against his car, chuckling. “We’ll see about that. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too."

You nodded, the excitement building, the atmosphere electric as the crowd roared in approval, sensing the tension and anticipation in the air.

With a final rev of your engine, you felt the vibrations resonate through your chest, the echo mingling with the excitement in your veins.

Kirishima climbed into his Evo, settling into the driver's seat with a wide grin. He shot you a thumbs-up, the tension of competition transforming into an electrifying camaraderie.

“Just remember, no backing down this time!” He shouted, his voice barely heard over the revving of engines and the cheers from the crowd.

You smirked, glancing back at him. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

The countdown began, the crowd tumbling into excitement. Each second felt weighty, charged with the anticipation of the races to come. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, feeling the pulse of energy course through you. The crowd roared in unison, a wave of sound that pushed the adrenaline higher.

"Three... two... one!" The shout broke through the chatter, and everything seemed to snap into focus as the countdown echoed through the air.

You felt the familiar adrenaline surge, the world narrowing down to the moment at hand.

"Go!"

The roar of engines filled the air, drowning out everything but the pounding of your heart. You launched your Mazda forward, the tires screeching against the asphalt as you and Kirishima shot ahead. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound bursting around you like fireworks, fueling your momentum.

The engine roared to life, propelling you forward with a force that matched the racing pulse in your chest. You made your move, taking the first turn hard and low, feeling the shift of weight as the tires gripped the asphalt. The world blurred around you; only the road mattered, every twist and turn pulling you deeper into the thrill. An imaginary coffee cup kept your focus strong.

Kirishima drifted close behind, and the heat of competition fueled your drive. The Evo was a sleek beast, but you felt the Mazda respond to your every command, like a well-trained partner. You pushed the accelerator harder, feeling the car almost hum beneath you. The road curved sharply ahead, and instinct kicked in. You flicked the wheel just right, the rear tires skimming dangerously close to the edge as you hugged the corner tightly. The thrilling rush filled your veins, and you could hear the wild cheers of the crowd fading, replaced by the focused silence within the car.

Kirishima flashed into your peripheral, his Evo close but not close enough to break your comfort zone. You felt the rush of exhilaration blend with concentration, the essence of racing swirling within like a storm. Ahead, the road twisted and turned, serpentining through the mountains, each bend challenging both your skill and your willpower.

Kirishima pushed closer, shifting his weight as he tried to glide past you on the outside. You could see the determination in his expression, the fierce competition fuelling his every move.

"Not today, Kirishima!" The words burst from your lips as you flicked the wheel hard, cutting into the turn. Your tires bit into the asphalt, finding the sweet spot of grip as you pulled away just enough to edge past him. The crowd erupted with cheers, their voices blending into a chorus of adrenaline that surged through you. You could feel the vibrations in your chest, each roar a testament to the stakes—one mistake could mean losing everything.

You fought against the rush of doubt creeping in, shoving it to the back of your mind. Focus. You knew the path; you had memorized every twist of the mountain pass, every hairpin turn etched into your memory from countless hours of practice. The world outside blurred, narrowing down to the road snaking ahead of you and the gentle hum of the engine. The sensation of the Mazda beneath you felt electric, each shift in weight translating into a thrill that threatened to consume you whole. You leaned into the next turn, the tires gripping the asphalt like a predator hunting its prey.

The curve tightened, and adrenaline coursed through your veins, sharpening your focus. You could hear Kirishima's engine growl behind you, but the sound only ignited your resolve.

The final stretch approached, and the crowd's cheers fueled your determination as the finish line loomed just ahead. You swung into the next corner, slamming the accelerator down to feel the engine roar in response. The asphalt blurred beneath you, a sliver of darkness edged with glowing lights illuminating the path to glory.

The finish line neared, an invisible weight urging you forward, every muscle in your body screaming for you to push a little harder, a little faster. You locked your gaze on the non existent white flag fluttering in the distance, a beacon of victory just waiting to be claimed. The roar of the crowd blurred into a singular sound—a wave of energy that surged through you as you approached the finish line. Heart pounding, you threw yourself into the final corner, adrenaline and determination merging into a single, exhilarating force. The tires squealed as you leaned into the corner, the Mazda responding perfectly to your command. You glimpsed Kirishima’s Evo just behind you.

You leaned deeper into the turn, the g-force pressing you against the seat as you accelerated through the apex. The Mazda roared, a wild animal unleashed, and you grinned, fully embracing the thrill of the chase. The finish line beckoned, just a heartbeat away, and every ounce of your training surged through every fiber of your being.

"Come on!" you yelled, the sound bursting from your lungs as you pushed the accelerator to its limit, every heartbeat synchronizing with the racing engine flickering beneath you.

Your tires bounded over the finish line, dust flying in a cloud behind you as the crowd erupted into a thunderous applause. You crossed first, heart pounding, exhilaration coursing through your veins like wildfire.

You pulled the Mazda to a stop just past the finish line, the engine rumbling to a gentle purr as the exhilaration of victory washed over you. The moment hung in the air, the thrill of the race still crackling around you. You took a deep breath, the world settling back into focus as the cheers from the crowd enveloped you like a warm embrace. You turned to see Kirishima pull up beside you, his expression a blend of disbelief and admiration.

“Damn, Y/N! That was incredible!” His eyes sparkled as he jumped out of his Evo, a huge grin plastered across his face.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“You weren’t half bad yourself, Kirishima. You put up a good fight.” You stepped out of the Mazda, feeling the energy of the crowd pulsing around you as they celebrated the race's outcome.

Bakugo stood off to the side, anger swirling in his eyes. His fists trembled at his sides, the tension radiating from him palpable even from a distance. The crowd was buzzing, but his gaze was locked on you, unyielding and furious.

“Alright princess, my turn." He stepped forward, the crowd parting slightly, murmurs of excitement rippling through the onlookers as Bakugo made his way toward you. The air thickened with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing louder with his approach. You met his intense glare head-on, unflinching, as if to say you were ready for whatever came next.

~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~

Your first race is won and under your belt! Congrats! Next chapter is one on one with our angry Pomeranian!

>di.in.al<3

#bakugou katsuki #mha #90s au #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou series #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinso x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha fanfiction

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milacandless77 · 3 months

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 | 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

ηαηαмι кєηтσ/ яєαɗєя ѕυgυяυ gєтσυ/яєαɗєя gσנσ ѕαтσяυ/ яєαɗєя вυт נυѕт α ƖιттƖє вιт!

IMPECCABLE— NANAMI KENTO

cнαρтєя 2: тнє ωιтηєѕѕ σf ɗєαтн

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. :)

It wasn't a long journey, but it still felt endless. It wasn't your first heartbreak either, yet it hurt just as much, if not worse. You were breaking little by little with every step you took, and your lungs didn't help, producing a choking sensation every time your mind thought of the pain that was to come, it all felt like a cruel stab in the stomach.

You had been through this before, with the same person. But why did it hurt more than the last time? Why did it feel like your first heartbreak when you knew it wasn't? You didn't understand your feelings, but you kept walking, bringing a hand to your chest, trying to calm your rapid breathing, to no avail. You chose to look up at the clear sky to prevent the tears from falling down your face again, feeling vulnerable knowing that the people walking around you were looking at you. You felt exposed.

You tried to think of something else, doing small breathing exercises as you approached your destination of horror. You needed to calm down, and you needed it to be quick, because one thing was clear: he couldn't see you like this. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble again because of him.

You knew this situation couldn't affect you academically or emotionally. You couldn't afford any imbalance in your busy daily routine. You let out a long sigh that seemed to release some of the emotional burden and decided to put an end to this once and for all. You swore to yourself that you would be fine on your own and that nothing bad would happen in this encounter... nothing bad would happen, right? So, what was this feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and go back to your classes, leaving all this mess in a text message? You dismissed that thought. You needed to give this relationship a definitive closure, and you knew that closure couldn't come through simple messages.

You were already too close to the shopping center where you had agreed to meet. You felt calmer now; you weren't even crying anymore. As you waited for the traffic light to indicate that pedestrians could cross the busy avenue, you thought about how ironic it was to have so many amenities less than ten minutes away from your fancy university. "Hey, girl, want to go shopping after school? You just need to cross the damn avenue. Feel like grabbing a drink with your friends? You can do it after class, just need to cross the avenue again."

For that reason and more, you made the decision that breaking up with him wouldn't affect you like before. You had perfect grades and a full scholarship to maintain in order to stay at that rich-kid university.

"Ok, here we go, stay calm, please stay calm," you repeated to yourself several times as you took deep breaths and clenched your fists.

The traffic light had already indicated that pedestrians could cross. You only had to pray that this situation wouldn't be as painful as you imagined. You could see him from the short distance that separated you, in front of the main entrance of the shopping center. It bothered you how your now ex-boyfriend looked so calm and indifferent, but that attitude didn't surprise you either.

"Hey, let's get this over with quickly, okay?" he said, rolling his eyes when he saw you.

"Fine by me," you said, looking at the watch on your wrist. "I have a class in a few minutes and I wouldn't want to miss it because of this."

"Do you always have to act like a fucking bitch?" he looked you up and down with disgust and anger.

You sarcastically laughed at his comment, but it was the perfect moment for a treacherous tear to start running down your face.

"Just tell me the reason, Naoya, so I can go do something more productive and interesting," you said, wiping away the tear as he laughed at you.

"Alright, let's get started. I'll reward you by being extremely honest after you pretended to be a strong girl for less than five minutes," he said, feigning sadness. "I'm tired of you. You have nothing to offer me. I need someone who is on my level and, most importantly, who at least lets me fuck them."

"Are you done?" you faked a smile, although the tears kept falling.

"Nope," he responded, smiling horribly. "See the girl on the other side of the street? I guess she looks familiar, doesn't she?" he whispered mockingly in your ear, grabbing your shoulder to forcefully turn you towards her.

You felt like your heart and stomach were being kicked. You knew who she was, the ex-girlfriend he had cheated on you with before. You were breathing heavily, this breakup was much worse than what you had imagined in your head.

“So seeing each other in person was with the intention of humiliating me from afar, in front of her," you laughed between tears.

“Calm down, I haven't even said the worst yet and you're already like this," he mocked mercilessly. "We both know who she is. She's the only person who has really interested me during all this time together. And you, you were just someone who served to feed my ego. Anyone would say you're an idiot for putting up with everything I did to you and how I treated you," he laughed, bending down to your height and looking at you with amusement. "It's a shame you couldn't even open your damn legs. I don't understand how you managed to make that girl feel insecure when you're nothing. You just make me feel sorry for you."

It was obvious. She wanted to see this spectacle to make sure he could get rid of you like garbage. You wanted to say something, but you felt petrified, humiliated. Your blood boiled with anger, but you couldn't stop crying.

"Stop crying. Let's face it: you're a disgusting failure. You're no good in bed, you don't have an important last name, and you didn't even have time to serve me properly. What did you expect me to do? Endure that torment forever?" he feigned exhaustion with a sigh. "So, if you'll excuse me, useless bitch, I have other matters to attend to," he pushed you out of his way roughly.

You clenched your jaw so hard you thought you had hurt yourself. The tears and hair in your face blurred your vision. Your legs trembled and your breathing showed hyperventilation. The tears were of pure fury.

You hated the feeling of being made a fool again, of being completely insulted. You felt a rage in your body that drove you crazy as you saw the girl on the other side of the avenue. You could feel her laughing at you, how everyone around you laughed at your state or at least looked at you with curiosity and disgust. He also couldn't stop laughing behind your back as he waited for the pedestrian crossing signal.

Everything was spinning. Everything around you looked blurry and spinning. You realized one thing: you weren't going to let him win this time, much less so easily.

You grabbed his shoulder abruptly, almost digging your nails into him, intending to slap him when he turned around. But all you managed to do was make him look at you with even more disgust and open his mouth faster than you.

"It seems you never get tired of being humiliated, huh?" he mocked, watching as the traffic light began to blink. "However, it's time for me to leave. I have a bitch to fuck, and obviously it's not you. Get out of my way."

He pushed you again, but this time with much more force, causing you to fall onto the pavement, between the sidewalk and the street of the avenue. You felt that, being tackled by him, he had left some wounds on your skin, as it burned through your clothes; you were probably bleeding a little. The people eager to cross stepped on your hands and feet, hurting your four limbs even more.

A thought of impulsiveness made you dizzy, wondering if no one had pity on you, why should you have any? You thought this was your opportunity. There were a few seconds left before the cars and buses started moving again. Your fury clouded your mind. You decided you wouldn't rest until that piece of shit stopped breathing.

Everything was spinning. You looked at his "ex-girlfriend," who was already looking at you. Something in you screamed that it was now or never. The traffic light's countdown indicated the start of traffic in less than three seconds. And then you did it:

You pretended to step back onto the sidewalk so that your body wouldn't be run over when the traffic started moving again. Although this was partly true, your real purpose was that now it was your turn to tackle him, and in a much crueler way: you kicked his feet hard so that he fell face-first onto the avenue.

As you did this, you told yourself several times to close your eyes and not watch what was about to happen, but the shock and morbid curiosity overcame your willpower.

"What the fuck—" his voice was instantly cut off.

Everything happened so fast. A horn blared incessantly. It was a bus. Half of his body was under it, that was the last thing you knew.

The horrified screams of the people around you did not cease. Slowly, you began to regain consciousness amidst all the chaos. You looked down at your crimson-stained legs and then observed the people around you, realizing that several of them were equally covered in blood, or even more.

Still, you are the only person guilty of his death.

Standing up completely, you turned towards the entrance of the shopping center to stop looking at the dead person in front of you and in front of that crowd. That's when you started vomiting uncontrollably, crying as you did for a couple of minutes. People started approaching you, asking:

"Are you okay?"

"Was he your partner?"

"You were so close to being run over too!"

"Why did he also fall onto the avenue, just like you?"

You couldn't answer any of their questions. You heard the noise of people as if it were too far away, accompanied by an annoying ringing probably caused by the trauma of what had happened. You were completely paralyzed, looking at your disgusting vomit and rehashing what you had just done.

You snapped out of shock when you heard the doors of the shopping center opening and closing non-stop. You looked up even more to properly see who was still in the sensor of the doors.

It was the guy who had burned you with his cigarette, the same long-haired dark-haired guy who now saw you with an expression of horror equal to or worse than yours.

He had seen that you had done it on purpose, right? And if so, why is he now smiling smugly at you and then turning around and walking away?

He was the last thing you saw.

Finally, everything around you blurred, as if you were at the top of a spinning mechanical ride that caused extreme dizziness. Then, everything turned black and you stopped hearing completely. Finally.

Did you just die too? You still don't believe it, you retain consciousness as you hear your own voice in that black background where you find yourself.

You hear a slight beep over and over again, something annoying and stuck in your arm. Your fingers begin to move, trying to touch each other. Your eyes strain to open slowly, revealing an unfamiliar room. Where are you?

"Nurse, she has finally woken up!" you hear your mother's voice as you still feel doped.

You turn to the intravenous line next to the beeping heart monitor, and you start to remember what happened... or rather, what you did.

You sit up abruptly from the bed, grabbing your mother's arm and pulling her towards you. You try to speak, but the words don't come coherently from your mouth.

"Bus. Accident. Crash. Blood." you were beginning to feel short of breath and your breathing became unstable "Mom, he's dead, Mom, he died in front of me." You pull some of your hair due to the stress that dominates your body.

You were going crazy with the guilt you felt. Images began to project in your head, as if what had happened was a fast-forward movie.

Your mother began to cry with you; you had never seen her so scared. She had always been a strong-willed woman since you were born.

"Daughter, I know. They told me everything that happened. I am so sorry, but I am just grateful at this moment that you are okay." She tried to calm you down with a hug while combing your disheveled hair.

"Mom... how do you know what happened?" You didn't understand how she knew that you were also in danger at that moment.

"You were unconscious for a day and a half. They opened a small investigation into the case, thinking that maybe you had pushed him into traffic." She looked into your eyes with an expression you couldn't describe. "I had to review the security cameras in front of his family so that the case could be properly closed. However, the recording showed how he had first pushed you into the avenue, among the passing crowd. Seconds later, it also showed how he inexplicably fell in front of the cars, with no chance of getting up, just like you did." She took a long pause before continuing. "Just the thought that you could have also died in that horrible way... I couldn't live with it."

Your mother started crying again as she lovingly held your face, but you gently pushed her away. Then, you fixed your gaze on the sheets, thinking that this wasn't really what had happened.

You woke up with the sensation of being in trouble, fearing that you might go to jail. You didn’t understand why, although the crowd around you was overwhelming, you knew the security cameras had clearly captured your sudden movement as you tried to stop it. However, why weren’t you in jail at that moment? Why did the cameras show something different from what you remembered doing?

A light bulb went off in your mind, considering the possibility that someone had tampered with the recording. But who could it have been? You reflected on all the people around, but you knew they were all too preoccupied with themselves until the exact moment the horrible and bloody accident occurred.

Then you remembered the person standing in front of the mall doors. That person had watched you with a horrified expression, the same one that seconds later smiled at you in a way that sent chills down your spine. It was baffling how someone could react like that after witnessing something so gruesome live and in person, and then simply carry on as if nothing had happened.

There was no way they had covered for you, they didn’t even know you. Maybe they didn’t even know what you had done, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. You let yourself collapse onto the stretcher, forbidding yourself from deluding that someone you didn’t even know had saved your skin from being jailed for homicide.

What you didn’t know is that they had indeed done so, and they were going to make good use of your little secret, which you now both shared.

Nor did you have the slightest idea of how much he was going to benefit from having kept the original tape on a USB drive for himself, and finally having configured the mall’s tape in that way, thanks to all his connections.

Hello, please don't hate me, Naoya Zenin fans, for killing him in my fanfic. I spent days thinking about who Y/N's ex-boyfriend that would die should be, and I asked myself, "Who is the most detestable character?" For a few seconds, I thought it could be Sukuna, but that guy can't be killed, not even by Gege Akutami himself, lol. Then I thought of Mahito, but I can't even consider him human, and he disgusts me, hahaha. So, I decided on Naoya as the candidate. Sorry.

This chapter was so difficult to write. I wanted to describe everything Y/N felt—the fear, the hatred, the frustration, and the impulsiveness—so I hope it’s understandable. On another note, I swear NANAMI will appear in the next chapter, but I needed this chapter to give context to how this girl became so unhinged that she needs extreme help.

I decided to introduce Suguru Getou first because, although he won't be Y/N's first love interest, he will be part of the tumultuous love triangle that these three will experience (you're going to LOVE and hate him at the same time, I promise—maybe more love than hate).

There will also be a bit of GojoxReader, but I won't give any spoilers about this ship; I'll keep that to myself, hehe. But I swear it's good stuff!!

You can find me on AO3 as: @/milacandless77

Thank you for the support! The next chapter will be called "The Blackmail."

—⋆mila 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The next chapter:

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amberbeach · 2 months

Text

'BREAKING BLUE'

gif belongs to me

Preston often struggled with the guilt of keeping such a large secret from you. When he became the Blue Ranger he didn't believe he could do it, and you saw his sullen mood and asked what was wrong. He bent the truth and said he didn't feel capable of helping Sarah complete a project, and whenever he felt those doubts creeping back in he remembered the way you smiled at him, and for every worry you listed reasons why he could do it. And while you never knew what was really troubling him, you built his confidence and over time Preston became a stronger Ranger because of your reassurance.

The words were on the tip of his tongue that day, but Preston knew how important it was to keep his identity a secret. It was for your protection and he didn't want to do anything to put you in harms way.

He frequently grappled with his choice to keep you in the dark. Before becoming a Ranger, and meeting Sarah, Preston didn't dare to ask you out, but with a little push from the blonde he asked you to a school dance and your relationship had only grown stronger since that day.

Galvanax started his invasion of Earth by sending monsters down to destroy the city but the power-hungry champion began to realize that he needed to change tactics. And needed to weaken the team that, while knocked down now and then, was always victorious in the end.

You were hanging with friends when your phone rang and heard Preston's voice. "Hi, I really need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?"

"Of course."

Unbeknownst to you the caller was not your boyfriend and was the latest contestant Galvanax had sent down to Earth. Phonepanzee, who had the ability to mimic anyone's voice, was luring you to a trap that would change your life forever.

Your friends were confused when they saw Preston with Sarah less than fifteen minutes after you were gone. The two Rangers approached the table when they called out and Preston was confused when they told him about the phone call.

"I didn't call her."

"But she went to meet you."

"Did you hear where?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, the park."

Preston left the café with Sarah and the two Rangers rushed across town to the park. As they got closer his phone buzzed and he read your text message, asking where he was. He pressed number one on his speed dial and was relieved when you answered seconds later.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the park. Where are you?"

"Listen, I can't explain it right now, but that wasn't me on the phone earlier."

"Preston I know your voice."

"It's a trap. You need to leave, right now."

"But -"

"I promise I'll explain later, just, please, get out of there."

He sighed in relief when you agreed and the two Rangers arrived at the park ten minutes later. Preston looked around warily as they split up and took out his cell phone when it rang.

"Y/N?"

"Preston, help!"

"Where are you?" He turned, his eyes searching the park for any sign of you, but this early in the day it was practically deserted.

"Right here!" A manic voice laughed and Preston jumped back when a monster leaped off a tree, landing in front of him. "Please help me."

Preston rolled his jaw when the monster mimicked your scared tone and clenched his fists. "Where is she?"

The monster spoke using his own voice, "You'll have to go through me first."

"Fine by me." Preston took out his power star and morphed, holding his sword tightly as he got into a fighting stance. When the monster jumped up and down, laughing gleefully, he was confused by the reaction.

"I told you, didn't I?"

Preston looked at where the monster removed a device that mirrored its surroundings and his eyes widened behind his helmet when he saw you tied to a tree nearby. You were equally shocked by the revelation that he was the Blue Ranger.

"Y/N?" He stepped towards you but the monster lunged towards him and Preston rolled backward, blocking the attack.

"You lied to me, Preston!" The monster continued to force him to back away with each strike and when he had managed to temporarily hold his arms, Preston pushed him away.

"Stop mimicking her voice!"

You could see that the monster had gained the element of surprise by exposing his secret, and by using your voice he was distracting the Blue Ranger who was struggling to stay on his feet. You struggled against the ropes and inhaled sharply when they dug into your skin, watching as Preston fell to his knees, losing his suit. He held up his sword when the monster, Phonepanzee, struck, pushing down on his sword.

"I understand why you did it!" You called out to your boyfriend who turned his head to look at you. "I know why you couldn't tell me. And it doesn't change how I feel about you."

Phonepanzee looked at you then at Preston when he felt him breaking free.

"I love you!"

Preston grinned as he slowly got to his feet, pushing the monster backward. "I love you too!"

You smiled brightly as he gained the upper hand and the monster got to his feet, waving his arms around as he yelled, "No! I was winning!"

Preston slashed his sword left to right as he spoke, "There was a flaw in your plan. You underestimated her. You've already lost." He rested his sword on his shoulder, meeting your gaze with a smile before he looked at Phonepanzee.

You watched as the Pink Ranger ran toward the monster, blasting him backward as she stood next to Preston. As the two Rangers fended off the monster, the rest of the team arrived and you got a front-row seat to his defeat.

As the monster grew, Preston cut you free and closed his eyes when you wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting you off the ground as buried his head in the crook of your neck. You pulled back as your feet touched the ground and kissed him passionately.

"We have so much to talk about, Blue." You smiled softly.

Preston nodded in agreement. "I will tell you everything I promise." He reignited your kiss before you got as far away from the enlarged monster as you could while he joined his team to defeat him a second time.

You were sitting outside an ice parlor when Preston arrived and you smiled when he greeted you with a kiss before occupying the chair beside you.

You ordered more ice cream and listened as he told you the story of how he became a Ranger and some of the battles they had won. He revealed the real reason why he had doubted his abilities and how your support had helped him grow as a Ranger and as a person.

"He told me that his plan was to weaken the team. He wanted to break you exposing a weakness. That's why he lured me out there."

"It almost worked," Preston admitted. "I thought by keeping you in the dark I was protecting you. I should've told you the truth. I'm sorry."

"I know why you did it. And I understand why. If the roles were reversed, I would probably make the same choice." You placed a hand on his arm and he covered your hand with his, squeezing gently, sweeping his thumb back on forth over the back of your hand.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Blue." You smiled when he chuckled lightly and closed your eyes when he lifted a hand to your cheek, kissing you tenderly.

When you pulled away, you walked away from the ice cream parlor and Preston took your hand, intertwining your fingers. You rested your head on his shoulder with a smile and placed your free hand on his arm. As he turned his head, closing his eyes as he placed a lingering kiss on your head, he knew that whatever the future had in store, you would face it as you did everything else - together.

#preston tien #preston tien x reader #preston tien imagine #preston tien imagines #power rangers ninja steel #power rangers ninja steel imagine #power rangers ninja steel imagines

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skeletinmoss · 6 months

Text

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 4: A legend’s childhood

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Roman was alerted to the hour having passed by Virgil’s shadow blocking the shine of one of his lights while the Great Mage was trying to read a scroll Logan had deemed interesting.

He jumped up in surprise.

“Hm, a tracking spell huh? That could be useful if it hadn’t been fifty years,” Virgil mused.

Roman looked down and back up. He’d been trying to make sense of these scribbles for the past ten minutes and Virgil saw it upside down in bad light… Upside…

Roman turned the scroll around. Oh. Now it made more sense, though a tracking spell still wouldn’t be his first guess.

“Thanks,” he muttered a bit frustrated.

“You are growing tired,” Virgil observed. “Put the papers away. It’s time to have a proper talk,” Virgil suggested stepping towards the desk and settling down on the floor in front of it with one fluid motion.

“That goes for you two to,” he called to Logan and Patton.

After exchanging a look among the three of them, Patton and Roman went to sit down in front of Virgil, Logan joining them reluctantly. Patton took up the middle, Roman the right and Logan the left.

“Right. Guess I should say sorry about waltzing in and just kind of… not explaining anything really. So… I guess each of you ask a question and then I ask one. Flowerboy can tell you if I’m speaking the truth,” Virgil assured them.

“What do you mean?” Roman asked surprised.

“Roman, don’t let him make you waste a question,” Logan chided.

“It is a good question though. Considering he clearly didn’t cast the bond on purpose,” Virgil mused. That got everyone’s attention, making the mage smirk amused.

“When you freed me, did you use magic on my ashes, any kind?” Virgil asked.

“I um… Got some on my hand and tried to get it off,” Roman recalled. “Sorry about that by the way. I kind of feel weird about it now that you turn out to um… reassemble yourself,” he offered.

Virgil waved him off and nodded as if that explained everything. “That would do it. No worries though. The bond isn’t strong as far as I can tell. So no summoning one another in times of crises, or feeling each other’s pain. That’d be annoying. But I’m sure you noticed you could more or less understand me while I was in my other form,” Virgil explained.

“Yeah, I guess? Still not sure what a magic bond is though. And summon each other… That is something that could happen?” Roman asked, only realizing after that that was another question. Virgil didn’t correct him though. He looked at him surprised and then at the others to see if Roman was the only one confused. He was not.

“You don’t know what a magic bond is?” he asked astonished.

They all shook their heads.

“That’s… We used to cast minor ones on friendship bracelets back in the academy. You guys never made magic friendship bracelets?”

Patton let out a gasp. “I want magic friendship bracelets…” he whispered as if he’d just learned about the greatest thing ever. And to Patton magic friendship bracelets were probably just that.

Virgil let out a long sigh. “Magic bonds tie our magic together. They can be undone of course, but that requires either a ruinous breach of trust or a ritual that’s more trouble than it would be to keep the bond you cast in place.

Like I said, you’ll just be in tune with my emotions and I with yours. It’s an equal exchange and will last for the rest of our lives. So I’ll know if you try to poison me. But I also knew that you were genuinely concerned for my wellbeing when you kept me away from the herbs,” Virgil explained.

“That sounds kind of romantic,” Patton awed.

Virgil shrugged. “There have been mages who entered relationships who bound themselves to their life partner,” he agreed making Roman blush. Now he really felt like he’d done something inappropriate. But he couldn’t really apologize for that in front of the others.

“Now, sunshine, your turn,” Virgil offered.

Patton shifted nervously. “Um, first… Sorry about the… ahm… I just love animals and ah…”

Virgil made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t know. Though even if I was a real Phoenix, that wasn’t a smart move. They are proud creatures,” he advised.

Patton nodded. “Yes… Thanks… And ahm… How do you make magic friendship bracelets?” he asked much to Logan’s annoyance. “We don’t have time to get sidetracked like this,” he chided.

“It’s alright,” Virgil said soothingly before turning to Patton.

“Basically you weave a bracelet together, letting a little bit of your magic flow into it. The natural oil on your fingers will function as the binding agent for your magics and depending on how much you put into it the spell is stronger. When it’s in bracelet form you can choose to take it off and it doesn’t last as long as when you form the bond with someone directly which is why our teachers allowed us to do it in the first place. The magic can last from anywhere form a week to a few months depending on your focus while making them,” Virgil explained before turning to Logan. “So. Let’s see what the smart guy wants to know?” Virgil wondered intrigued.

Well, Roman was curious too. Considering Logan had made a big deal about their questions being irrelevant.

Logan frowned and seemed to think it through for a moment. “Why did you prioritize… Educating us, over finding your friends or figuring out who stabbed you?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded. “Good point. Well, I’d had some time to observe you, I couldn’t do much in my guidance form and I haven’t managed to switch at will all day. I was starting to worry I was stuck that way. You can’t imagine the feeling when I realized the lock on my form seemed to weaken with the setting sun. Though I can’t turn back right now either…” Virgil seemed frustrated by that.

“In any case. I observed you three working today and using magic and well…

Imagine you are a painter, you’ve seen your fair share of artists and then you see some guys who you can just tell are bursting with talent. But they settle down to work on something and they blindfold themselves and pick up a pencil with their bad hand and struggle to draw a circle. They are good circles. But…” Virgil made a face.

“So I’ve been mentally cringing while seeing you three stumble through today while handicapping yourselves. This little course correction was the very least I could do. Hopefully you guys figure the rest out going forward,” Virgil shrugged.

“And this does not count towards the favor you said you owe us?” Logan pointed out, probably trying to test out how Virgil would handle follow up questions when he was not taken by surprise by an apparently common spell going out of fashion the past… however long it had been since Virgil attended the academy.

“No. If I owe you a favor it would be rude of me to pick what it is I do for you. Giving you three some pointers was more for my piece of mind. You still have the favor,” Virgil assured them.

“I suppose it is your turn,” Logan allowed apprehensively.

They all were rather curious what this mage would want to know first.

“Okay… Well how old are you three exactly?” Virgil asked.

That… Would not have been the first thing Roman asked in his position. He didn’t think.

“I am the oldest. I am 28,” Logan said weightily.

“You are only a few months older than us Logan,” Roman pointed out.

“Aw, you guys are babies,” Virgil coed.

“We are adults!” Roman protested.

Virgil cocked his head. “Actual adults or adults by technicality?” he wondered. “Not being mean I’m just not sure anymore… It’s been a while since I was 28, if you couldn’t tell,” he offered.

That was a good point.

“Um… You are a minor until you are 18,” Patton offered.

“Hm… I guess maturing for a decade after that would be enough to count as an adult,” Virgil allowed before turning to Roman expectantly. Right. More questions. This time he perhaps should ask something about Virgil.

Otherwise Logan might actually hit him with one of his books.

“We told you our specializations. What is yours?”

Virgil quirked a brow. “To be perfectly clear, I’ve practiced every magic ten times over by now. But I started out as an herbalist, like you,” Virgil explained, then he made a face like a memory struck him.

“It was kind of annoying. Didn’t matter how many healing spells I improved on or the fact that I came up with the revitalization meditation. It didn’t count towards my Great Wizard exam. Remus and Janus had done their thing already and I was just sat there with ten new spells that didn’t count. Coming up with self cleaning fabric was such a relief,” Virgil sighed.

The three Great Mages exchanged looks. “Did I say something?” Virgil wondered as he caught it.

Roman bit his lip, not sure how the older mage would react. “What’s a Great Wizard?” he asked.

Virgil’s eyes widened in surprise, again. “That… Explains so much actually…” he said before explaining himself. “When I was on the road to being a mage, you could earn the title of Great Wizard by creating your own spell. It was not mandatory but it came recommended and me and my friends decided to go big or go home.

It was a good way to learn to understand magic and the properties of ingredients in practice. I suppose they scrapped it for some reason and now I get why you guys are so by the book. You were never encouraged to step out of what was written were you?” he realized. It was phrased as a question, but it seemed like more of the rhetorical kind.

“Ahm… Mister Virgil,” Patton said carefully. “What did you mean with ‘guidance form’? I mean I know you meant the phoenix but…”

Virgil sighed. “Wasting this round on what used to be common knowledge I see. Not your fault, by the way.

When you guys connected with your magic to become Great Mages, you saw it take the shape of a magical creature right?” Virgil verified. The trio nodded.

“Well, to become High Mages. You get a lot better at magic under the guidance of that creature and then after some more meditating and stuff, you will become one with it. Allowing you to take on some of it’s traits and even take its form. In my case, the dark phoenix,” he explained.

Roman felt his eyes widen. That… But that was so dangerous… it was forbidden… But there was something in Roman’s heart that was set ablaze at the thought. If Virgil felt any remaining horror at his reveal, he didn’t mention it.

“Whoever put me in the box, also went through the trouble to mess with my transformation abilities. If I can find my friends I’m pretty sure I can make a remedy. With some trial and error… Bringing it back to you smart guy. Make it a good one,” Virgil said.

Logan thought for a long moment.

“You cleared the skies earlier without any aid from ritual or herbs. How did you do that?” he asked.

“You mean you are a diviner and didn’t even learn that? That’s the first thing diviners are supposed to learn so they can have an unobstructed view of the stars when they need it. These weren’t even rainclouds. Why would I need any sort of boost or guidance to shoo them along?” Virgil scoffed.

Logan just nodded. Roman got a feeling that Virgil had just told him more than just that he didn’t think it was that impressive.

“My turn. What are your guidance animals? Considering you now know mine that seems fair,” Virgil smirked.

Roman frowned. He hadn’t asked anything about the past fifty years or what they were doing in this tower. Which was what they’d expected him to be the most curious about.

Instead his questions were so… Like getting to know new friends… Was that it? Were they being vetted to see if they could help him on his quest to save his friends from their prisons?

Was he going to offer his aid in finding The Arch Mage in exchange?

Roman didn’t think he was lying when he said he just couldn’t watch them do spells incorrectly without helping, but maybe he also wanted them to be ready to help him on his journey.

Aside from Virgil was a High Mage. Those haven’t been seen since the dark magic plague. And if his friends were High Mages too… Surely Logan and Patton would agree it was important to save them.

Chances of finding the Arch mage alive (though Roman no longer thought they were entirely zero given who was sat in front of them) were slim. But if they could find not one, but three mages who had long forgotten knowledge and the power to step up and fill the void he left behind…

At the very least they should be convinced about the dangers of black magic.

The stories of the Night Flame Mage always depicted him as a good guy. He had helped found Sanlow by turning away a grave beast and putting a protective spell in place that lasted to this day. And he never came to collect a reward. Other than showing up for a jubilee party it seemed. Those weren’t the actions of a bad person… Virgil didn’t even seem to expect any sort of praise or gratitude from Roman considering he probably wouldn’t have been born if Virgil hadn’t given his ancestors a safe haven to raise his grandfather.

Roman was pulled from his thoughts by Logan clearing his throat nervously.

“Mine is the white unicorn,” he admitted a bit embarrassed. Logan had been teased about it by other mages, to which Roman and Patton happily reminded them that they didn’t even know theirs because they hadn’t been able to finish the ritual.

Virgil though, simply nodded in approval. “The guide of those with a curious heart,” he surmised. Logan scoffed. “Do not mock my intelligence!” he insisted.

The High Mage cocked his head. “I did not. I said you were curious,” he pointed out.

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s childish and unprofessional,” he bit.

That upset Virgil. “If you truly believe that then maybe you deserve to have your intelligence mocked. You just rejected your kin! Curiosity is the birth of knowledge. You should know that Unicorns are the second smartest guide out of all of them. Second only to dragons who, as you should definitely know, tend to only appear to those of royal lineage,” he stated in a way that reminded Roman of their instructors whenever they’d made a grave mistake. Logan had never been on the receiving end of one of those rants before though.

Roman and Patton looked at Logan, wondering how he’d respond.

He seemed taken aback, but thoughtful...

“I see… I’ll take that in consideration,” he agreed.

Virgil seemed to calm down at that and turned to Patton. “Your turn,” he said, trying to go back to non-threateningly, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“Um, mine’s a jackalope,” Patton said a little bashful.

Virgil immediately softened. “The playful spirit. Your friends will appreciate your love for joy when things get though,” he assured their fighter.

Then Virgil turned to Roman expectantly. Roman couldn’t quite meet his eyes though.

“Ahm… I’m… I’m a phoenix too. Though mine didn’t look like yours. It was, white and gold and red,” he recalled.

Virgil nodded. “A light phoenix. Like all phoenixes they are enduring, inclined to those who chose to heal and mend and to many a symbol of hope. But more than the other variants, the light phoenix is known for unmatched bravery. The dark phoenix is more associated with loyalty,” he cited.

Roman blushed. He remembered meeting his guide. It wasn’t that long ago after all.

Meditating for so long had been maddening, but he’d been determined to make it. To be there for his friends on the journey to solve the mystery.

And then he’d seen a light in the darkness he’d created by closing his eyes.

He'd moved towards it, finding himself not physically moving, but still making progress.

And then there’d been a flame in front of him. It was hot and bright and he could feel pure power emanating from it. And there’d been something inside it. He knew the fire might burn him. But he also known that if he didn’t retrieve what was at the flame’s source, this journey was for nothing.

And so he’d taken a breath and reached inside. It had burned, but not as painful as he thought it would. His fingers closed around the something at the heart of the flame and pulled back. It was an egg…

Then the egg hatched and a blazing inferno burst from it, Roman had fallen back -much like he had earlier that day- and looked up at the gorgeous creature forming from the blaze.

It had landed in front of him and inspected him. Roman had stood up and faced judgment. Pass or fail, he’d face this. He’d come too far to turn back…

The bird had let out a cry and for a moment, Roman had felt as though every secret magic had to offer was presented to him if he wished it.

Part of him had wanted to accept, consequences be damned. But he’d shown restraint. Not yet, he’d insisted. Not ready.

For a moment he’d worried that this was a final test and he had failed. But instead of rejecting him, his guide had approached him and nuzzled him in comfort. He’d felt… He had felt like they were filled with sorrow for him.

When he opened his eyes, back in the meditation room where he’d been undergoing the ritual that hadn’t been performed in five decades, he found his face wet with tears, but a gentle burning in his heart. And he knew that his guide was ready to aid him when he was ready.

Roman wondered if Virgil felt that same burning. Or if it was different since he and his guide were one… That sounded like something truly amazing to Roman. Though he knew it was a dangerous want, he wanted it all the same.

“Thanks,” Roman smiled.

“Just citing the book of guidance,” Virgil pointed out. “But that brings the question back to you. What do you want to know birdie?” he asked teasingly. Roman didn’t take it as an insult considering he wasn’t the one who’d spent most of their acquaintanceship so far as an actual avian.

Roman thought about it. They’d danced around it. Assuming Virgil would bring it up. But this was their quest. So it should be them who took this first step.

“Do you remember a man called Gustav Noctora?” he asked. Patton and Logan both turned their heads towards Virgil expectantly.

Virgil blinked a few times… And then snorted.

“Don’t tell me… He’s the one who has you all call him ‘arch mage’? That’s so him…” Virgil laughed. Roman wasn’t sure if this was good news.

Virgil stopped laughing and observed Roman, feeling how his reaction affected him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t judge,” he acknowledged. I hadn’t seen him in a decade before I went under so he might’ve done some impressive stuff. It’s just… Hard to unsee the kid he was when we first met at school,” he explained.

“You taught him?” Logan wondered, interested in the line of conversation.

“I mean… In a sense? But I wasn’t a teacher. He and I were in the same class,” Virgil specified.

That… They needed a moment.

“So he was unkillable too?” Patton gushed excitedly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, he did the ritual,” he confirmed. Though Roman got the strange sense that he was holding something back.

“What do you know about him?” Roman pressed.

Virgil pursed his lips. “He started out as an alchemist. He got frustrated whenever he didn’t get something right away. He got it eventually. But he had… High expectations of himself,” he recalled.

“He wasn’t very socially skilled. Not when we were at school at least. He got better at it later in life. So like I said. Don’t let my memory of him at his worst be any indicator,” Virgil insisted.

“You are holding back,” Roman pointed out.

The Dark Phoenix Mage sighed. “I guess, I am. Listen. I get you guys are super excited about finding him. But at least when it came to me… Especially at school, but also later on… I didn’t like him. He had a bad habit of trying to put my friends down and expect me to laugh at his ‘joke’. It irked me. Like I said, he wasn’t good at peopling. But he could’ve changed for the better after graduation for all I know.

In short. I knew Gustav Noctora, he was a jerk I wanted as little to do with as possible. But the guy I knew is pre Arch Mage shenanigans,” he explained. Roman nodded in understanding. Virgil had tried not to upset them by dunking on their hero despite his personal dislike for him.

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t a little disappointed to hear about this side to his hero. But no one was perfect. And like Virgil said, the Arch Mage might’ve grown out of whatever he was struggling with as a child.

“Do you maybe, know if he might’ve had another home? Somewhere not known by everyone?” Patton asked.

Virgil thought on that for a bit. “I mean… It’s not unusual. Janus has a fancy tower and a cottage that’s a bit more low key… I think Guss mentioned something secluded during our last conversation… Hidden among ruins. I wasn’t paying super close attention at the time…” Virgil admitted.

Logan frowned. “Ruins… This would be sixty years ago then, yes? You mentioned you two hadn’t seen each other in a decade,” he recalled.

Virgil nodded. “Come to think of it, that was the longest I’d gone without at least getting some kind of message from him… directly at least. He did come up in a few conversations. He’d apparently been traveling a lot and gathering a ton of rare and hard to achieve materials last I heard,” he recalled.

That was honestly a relief to hear. That sounded a bit more in line with what they’d known of The Arch Mage.

Logan hummed, deep in thought.

“Not sure if it would help, but Gustav was a bit neurotic about taking notes. He always carried some kind of notebook with him. So there’s probably a few journals around here that will tell you exactly what he was up to before disappearing,” Virgil offered.

“Yes, that would help. Thank you. One more thing. You didn’t know what we were here for or who this tower belonged to when you reformed, yet you saved us a lot of work. How and why?” Logan asked.

“Honestly, that was for my benefit. I was looking for anything useful. As for how. I let my guide lead me. And before you give me a heart attack by asking how I’m just going to assume you don’t know. It’s an instinct. The way migratory birds know when to fly south and such,” Virgil surmised before getting up and summoning the scrolls he’d picked out earlier, which Logan had put to the side during their own search, towards him.

“Hm…” he mused as he unrolled them. “There’s layers of protection on this… I could probably whip something up or divine it… Don’t have the time though…” Virgil decided, putting the scroll back and rummaging to the box of herbs Roman really wished he would leave alone.

“Okay… Final question for me,” Virgil stated as he turned back to Roman with his selection of illegal herbs. “Why do you get a heart attack every time I come near these?” he asked, waving the bundle of slow and painful death.

“Because. They are forbidden. Using them risks damaging yourself. It’s dark magic!” Roman insisted.

Virgil just rolled his eyes and turned to the desk to prepare the dried herbs.

“Dark magic is all in the way you use it. Curses are dark magic. Remus learned that the hard way when he picked a fight with Gustav at graduation,” Virgil mused. Okay… What? Roman needed more context please.

“Magic is a two way street, always,” he continued as he turned around, rubbing the herbs between his fingers. “If you use it to hurt others it hurts you. If you use it to protect, to help or just to do some cool shit cuz it’s fun, it will embrace you,” he stated, tracing a pattern in the air that left Roman breathless. He had always thought that spellcasting looked pretty. But never before had it looked breath taking.

Virgil’s eyes started to glow and he released his spell, and a phantom of a phoenix swept through the room and then down the stairs.

Virgil looked around before heading downstairs without a word.

Roman looked at his friends a bit bewildered. Logan frowned and got up, prompting Roman and Patton to follow suit. They headed down and found Virgil had gone to the Arch Mage’s sleeping quarters and had moved the bed.

Roman would have protested, but he saw Virgil had found another hidden compartment and had retrieved stacks of journals and was feeling around for any remaining items.

“Found you you little bastard,” Virgil stated triumphantly as he got back up and held a stone in his hand.

The High Mage looked back at them and gestured to the journals.

“These are also protected, but I’m sure Logan can work his way past it. Might be a good exercise in relying on your guide a bit more,” Virgil offered as he got up and took of one of his earrings.

“Like I said, you guys are owed a favor. Don’t waste it on something dumb okay? One favor. When you are in agreement on what you need from me you just say: Virgil Night Flame. I am ready to return what’s yours. And I’ll be there in a second,” he explained as he offered the earring to Roman who just stared at it as everything that just transpired hit him.

“You are leaving?” he asked disappointedly.

Virgil sighed. “Look, you guys are talented. I know I made it clear that I’m not impressed with your education so far, but that has nothing to do with your capabilities. Your guides would not have even appeared before you if you were not ready to be Great Mages.

You don’t need me to decipher the scrolls or the journals or follow whatever clue. I’m sure you’ll make it to the ruins, whichever he meant, and find any clues left behind in there as well.

But I need to see if my friends are okay. Like yesterday. Good luck,” Virgil bid holding out the earring again. Roman’s jaw set stubbornly. “Let us help then,” he insisted.

Virgil blinked a few times in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Roman righted himself stubbornly. “As far as we know you are the only High Mage alive. If the arch mage is dead, the council will look to you for guidance to restore whatever was lost in the plague. I’m still not entirely sure about the herbs and I know you aren’t sold on the plague… So if you start to show symptoms I want to be there to help. We wouldn’t be able to face the council if we found a living High Mage and lost him right away,” Roman insisted.

Virgil looked at him for a long moment. “Fine. But my friends come first. I don’t want to hear any of you complaining about needing to get to the ruins while I’m looking for them,” he warned.

Roman scoffed. “Like finding two more high mages would be considered a waste of time,” he countered. He looked to Logan for confirmation though. Just to be safe.

To his relief, Logan nodded. “Deciphering the scrolls and the journals will take time anyway right? I can do it on the road,” he stated.

“He really can,” Patton giggled. “He’s mastered walking and reading.”

Virgil let out a sigh. “Fine. Guess I’d feel a bit better knowing you guys finished your quest thing safely,” he allowed.

“Good,” Roman nodded. “Where do we start?”

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts logan #ts patton #prinxiety #the dark phoenix au #ao3 fanfic

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