#like. even if we rarely talked we at least had gotten used to each other due to having to be in the same room as each other for years

[indecisive-v]

i've heard many a crazy college story that made me think college would be at least a little fun, enough to ensure i still care and my brain isn't drifting off into outer space, but i'm nearing the end of my first semester and rereading a list of quotes from my senior year of high school and it's making me realize that year may have raised the bar a little too high

[bbgghost]

lot to love: chapter 1

blurb: you are the nineteen year old, younger, mutant sister of Mystique. you go to Professor X's school and have been since you were young. this is going to be slowburn with wolverine ♡♡♡

a.n. this is my first time writing!!! but i love logan hopefully this is okay :3 i didn't know whether to call fire boy pyro or john so yeah -

c.w. there are some very brief very small references to past abuse, this is to align with Mystiques storyline! logan is obvi at least 150 years older than the reader so age-gap! I made the reader have cherry red hair just because Mystique does and I think it's a universally pretty hair colour!

masterlist

‘The main reasoning that the U.S. government used mutants as weapons during World War Two was because of what?’ You read the first question in your head. Biting your lip you looked at Bobby’s paper next to yours. You could barely see what he was writing, what with his arms basically covering the entire page. You rolled your eyes and lifted you body up ever so slightly. He’s supposed to be your friend and he’s covering the goddamn answer! A low grunt wakes you from your thoughts.

At the front of the classroom sat the one and only Logan Howlett. His long legs were rested on top of the table, and his blue buttoned t-shirt lay open over torso, revealing his classic white tank. His eyes were completely stuck on you and once you made eye-contact, his left eyebrow raised. You gulped harshly before shying away from his cold stare. Lowering your body, you circled ‘C’ and moved on.

Logan teaching was very rare, and as a student you barely even saw him. It was only when he was talking to Marie that you actually got to see him up close. Him taking your class was a ‘favour’ he was doing for Charles, at least that’s what he said.

The time was nearly up, the clock high on the wall indicated you had two minutes to go. You quickly made some educated guesses before hearing Logan’s deep voice. “Times up, kids.” You circled the last answer as ‘B’ before putting your pen down.

Looking over at Bobby you made desperate eye-contact with him, before mouthing ‘That sucked ass!’ A small snicker was heard from Logan next to you as he grabbed your paper. You turned back to Bobby as he merely shrugged. Rolling your eyes, you slouched and fidgeted with your pen again.

”Do you think we’ll have him teach our class again?” You asked Marie. “I don’t know, I think Professor X wants to get him more involved in school when there isn't too many missions.” She replied. You hummed before you guys had reached your lunch table. Sliding in next to Pyro, you dropped your folder before grabbing the tray he had gotten you. “Thanks.” You said gratefully to the boy next to you. He nodded softly before flicking his lighter.

Sticking the straw into the juice box, you glanced at the couple across from you as they ogled at each other. “Do you guys ever stop?” You complained. “No, no, I think we need to be more grateful they don’t have the ability to stick their tongues down each others mouths.” John laughed. “Ew. Gross.” You cringed at the thought, and in an attempt to rid the idea, looked away. Your eyes landed on the opening that the cafeteria doors provided to the rest of the building. Luckily enough, Logan walked past. He was now only wearing the wife beater and blue jeans. You noticed the brown cowboy-like belt he was wearing, holding together the 70's look he was portraying.

"Hey, is it cool if we dip?" You wipped you head around at the sound of Rogues voice. "Yeah, sure." And both Bobby and her were out of the cafeteria in seconds. You still had a good bit of food left on your plate, so you slowly ate pieces of it.

Next to you, you felt Pyro's fingers play with the ends of your hair. “I liked the blonde hair you had last Monday. I think it suited the way you looked.” He commented. “Oh, yeah?” You questioned as you made your hair fade to a warm blonde. “See it matches your eyes wonderfully.” He whispered. "Thanks." You muttered.

You both took bites out of you lunches, you let your eyes drift off. He kept his eyes trained on you. It made you bones crawl under your skin, and sweat brewed in your palms. You stayed calm though, your face still the same colour as ever, no pinker.

When you finished you turned to look him deep in the eyes. You blinked at him a couple of times. He mimmicked you actions. “I think we should get back to class.” You said firmly as you touched the edge of your dark blue folder. “Yeah.” He agreed before turning back to his lighter. You quickly grabbed your blue folder before stepping over the bench. “See ya.” You muttered, scattering out of the hall.

Your face cringed looking back on the moment. Gritting your teeth together harshly, you jumped up the stairs to your dorm. You opened the door, grabbed a stick of gum and chucked it in your mouth before closing the door and running to your next class. Running was an exaggeration, you thought, a fast walk was more like it. You walked past Logan, again, who gave you a raised eyebrow before speaking up.

“Hey blondie! Slow down! You’ll hurt someone.” He called out. Already a good ten metres away from him you stopped your fast pace and slowed to a stroll. What did he care anyway? From what you heard he wasn’t exactly a stickler for the Professor’s rules. You rolled your eyes, again, before you turned into a different hallway.

When you turned into the classroom, the Professor was already starting his lecture. Embarrassed as everyone stared at you, your hair changed back to it's normal cherry red. Sitting down at your usual seat in the back, you began scribbling on the lined paper of your notes. Hearts, bows and a letter 'W' adorned the corner of your page. You almost drowned out the voice of the Professor, but instead decided on trying to better your grades and started paying attention.

It was later that same evening. It was a warm cool spring afternoon, and after having yet another vivid nightmare, you decided you’d had enough. You slipped on your pink uggs and grabbed the journal and pen that Storm had gifted you. She had a motherly protectiveness towards you. As your teacher, she had noticed that you were often distracted during day-to-day life in the Mansion. And after your reluctance to express your feelings verbally, she suggested to write it all out.

This leather bounded, lined-page notebook had seen you through many purposes. When you had made it downstairs, you made a quick cup of tea and sat at the bench. You glanced at the time on the oven that was diagonal to your position. 1:00. You huffed before opening to a new page in your journal.

I can’t sleep again. Another dream about being back at home with my sister. They’re getting more vivid as the days go on, but never clear enough where I know exactly what’s happening. It’s always a flicker of light, a picture of Raven and then my old bed back in my old bedroom. I wish I could know the full story of my child. It’s so conflicting, feeling like I’ll never truly understand what was going on then. God, I was so young. I can’t believe they ever wanted to

You ceased your writing as footsteps slowly got louder and louder. You looked up, biting your lip to see Logan. His hair still perfectly shaped, and his wife beater still tucked in his jeans, he stood before you. “What are you doing up kid?” He questioned. You shut your book and placed the pen on top of it. “Uhm, I don’t know.” You answered, avid in eye contact. He just hummed in response and glanced at your journal that you had both your hands over.

“You writing something?” He asked. What kind of stupid question is that? “Yeah…” Again, all he did was hum. He turned and opened the fridge, huffing when he realised there still wasn’t any liquor. Logan decided that a glass of water would have to do. When he grabbed the jug you noticed yourself ogling at his back muscles. You ignored yourself, just some silly thing I’m naturally attracted to, right?

He filled a glass with the water, and sat the jug on the bench. You watched him the entire time, but once self-aware you glanced back down at your hands. Your nails were short and stubby, so you fixed it and made them manicured instead. You tapped the fresh acrylics against the leather of your notebook. The noise made Logan look to you again.

“Neat trick.” He commented. You made eye contact with him. “Yeah I guess.” You grew your hair out longer and twisted it around your finger. “What’s up with you kid, you were pretty talkative this morning?” He said softly. You blushed and let your hair fall in front of your face. “I forgot you heard that.” You whispered in reference to the comment you’d made this morning about the test the Professor had made him supervise. “I don’t know, the usual stuff.”

“The usual stuff.” He repeated. “Don’t I know that well…” You puffed out a laugh before resting your chin in your hand. “Why are you up?” You said quietly. His eyes flittered to yours, “same thing I’m guessing.” He had a knowing look in his eyes. You know he had heightened senses, you didn’t know anything about mind reading. “Nightmares.” You said so softly he didn’t know if you had even spoken.

“ ‘s that why you’re writing?” He asked. You nodded and grabbed your cup to take a sip out of it. He mimicked you and drank out of his glass. “It’s a good habit. Don’t get rid of it.” He said before walking out of the kitchen.

[steddieas-shegoes]

On school picture day, Steve always gets the kids ready. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to, it’s that he kind of hates making them dress up for a photo when 99% of the time, they’re just kids.

Except Steve had to go to a training conference for guidance counselors this week and picture day is happening whether they like it or not.

Their oldest, Jules, can do everything herself now. Prefers it, actually. She’s been extremely independent since she turned 10 a few months ago and neither of them try to stop her.

But their twins are only six, and James and Connor are like tornadoes who interrupted a category five hurricane and wore their most stained clothes while doing it.

“Let’s at least brush your hair,” Eddie suggested, already mentally preparing for the arguments that would cause. “Just for the picture and then you can mess it up however you want.”

“But daddy lets us wear it crazy!” Connor lies.

“And he lets us take off our shirts!” James lied even more.

“You guys don’t even know how to lie right,” Jules said as she finished braiding her own hair.

“We don’t lie!” They said in unison.

Eddie used to think the twins talking and doing things at the same time was just coincidence, but now he knows it has to be some kind of evolutionary benefit to outsmart the parents.

“Let’s call daddy then and ask,” Eddie said, immediately being met with silence. “Oh, can we not? If he lets you do that stuff, then it shouldn’t be a problem right?”

The twins shake their heads.

“Great!” Eddie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and pretends to dial Steve. Steve’s not gonna answer, so he just sends a quick text to let him know it’s fine and to let it ring to voicemail. He holds the phone up to his ear as it rings twice and then goes to voicemail. “Hey sweetheart. You know how it’s picture day? Mhm. Well the twins told me you usually let them just go without brushing their hair or even wearing a shirt! I thought that sounded silly. So you don’t?”

“Wait! Okay we lied a little!” Connor yelled, suddenly panicking at being caught.

“And maybe a lot!” James added, already trying to climb Eddie’s side so he could reach for the phone.

“I’ll go get them ready, love you, bye!” Eddie rushed out and hung up so he could hold James safely. “I think you think I’m a fool.”

“No dad, you just let us be crazy,” James said.

“So does your daddy. Just not on picture day. You know the rules. We do this for him, right? We get nice and handsome and we smile for the camera so we can hang the pictures on the fridge.” Eddie glanced at last year’s school photos, resisting the urge to cry at how big they’d all gotten so quickly. James was missing three teeth now, Connor seemingly lost a ton of his baby fat early, and Jules had started wearing earrings. “He likes seeing your faces on the fridge.”

“But can’t we just wear our regular clothes?” Connor begged from his other side.

Eddie looked down at what they were wearing. It wasn’t that bad. No stains, at least. And no holes. That was rare for them.

“You can wear these clothes if you let me make your hair look nice,” Eddie bargained.

“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” Jules said with her arms crossed.

“He loves me too much. Plus who else would do the dishes every night? He can’t kill me!” Eddie joked, tickling James before setting him down on the floor. “To the bathroom, my princes! Make haste!”

They ran for the bathroom quickly, nearly tripping over each other in the process.

Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand with a text from Steve that just said ‘if they don’t brush their hair for pictures, Santa won’t come.’

Eddie texted back quickly: so cruel. as his most sexiest elf, I wouldn’t pass over their house.

Steve sent a ‘🙄’ and then a ‘😘’.

Eddie pocketed his phone and went to help the boys with their hair.

When they got the pictures back a month later, Steve shook his head, but couldn’t quite hide the fond smile.

James and Connor both forgot to give normal smiles into the camera.

But their hair looked almost perfect.

[emiliaalonsosainz31]

secret Feelings - OP81 x Y/N

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Y/N

warnings: nothing except pure fluff (maybe a bit angsty tbh)

Summary: Y/N is torn about confessing her feelings to her close friend, Oscar, during a birthday party. Despite her fears, she decides to tell him. 

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Authors Note: Please note that English is not my native language, so please be kind. It hasn't been proofread. I am open to any suggestions, ideas, comments, or criticism:) Thx for reading <3 

Does he know? Does he not know? Should I tell him? Or should I wait and hope he figures it out himself? Would he even notice? Maybe he already knows and ignores it because he doesn't feel the same… Ohhh nooooo. We’re not thinking about that now, Y/N! This is Oscar – if he didn’t at least have some feelings for you, he wouldn’t be so close to you all the time. He wouldn’t always save a seat for you next to him, or put his hands on your shoulders when he stands behind you. He wouldn’t regularly try to make eye contact at social events to check if you’re okay, and above all, you wouldn’t talk on the phone every day.

I look beside me. Oscar and I are sitting in the garden with friends, celebrating a birthday. The sun is setting, and the last golden rays of the day shine through Oscar’s light brown hair. His cute side profile looks even better in this light. I just sit there and watch him with a slight smile on my face. Since he started driving for McLaren in Formula 1, he’s been traveling a lot, and moments like these, where I can just look at him in peace, are rare. That’s why I cherish this one even more. He’s living his dream, and I couldn’t be prouder of him! Oscar and I have known each other for about 1 ½ years, and I’ve had a small crush on him for just as long. Okay… maybe a big crush, but that’s not important.

He turns his head towards me and sees me smiling. He smiles back and takes my hand, which is resting on my lap, in his.

Oscar leans slightly towards me. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

I look into his eyes and nod. “Yeah, I can’t complain about anything!”

“That’s very good... yeah, really good. Um, I’d like to take a walk around the block before I leave later, just to stretch my legs a bit before I drive back to Oxford. Will you join me?” he asks with a friendly grin on his lips. I say I’ll come, and follow him out of the garden. Oscar offers me his arm, saying, “Would the lady care to link arms?”

“I’d never say no to that offer!”

I link my arm with his, and we walk a few meters in silence. It’s a very comfortable silence. I don’t think I’ve ever had an awkward silence with Oscar because he exudes such calm that you can just enjoy the moment without talking. It’s really good for me, and I notice that every time, as do the people around us. I’m very excitable and emotional. I talk a lot, and when I’m nervous or stressed, I can be quite exhausting. In those moments, Oscar is always my anchor. Even though I’m a very outgoing and extroverted person, I often need a retreat to recharge and feel safe. And that safe place is definitely the man walking next to me.

Oscar looks down at me with a slight frown, half-hidden by a strand of hair on his forehead.

“Are you sure everything’s okay? You’ve been so quiet and lost in thought all day. That’s not like you at parties,” he says with a slightly worried tone.

We’ve gotten closer over the past few months, but I’m afraid of losing what we have if I tell him I feel more than just friendship. I look away slightly, blinking away the small tears that come at the thought of possibly losing him. He stops, stands in front of me, and turns my face towards him with his hand.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Please talk to me, I’m really starting to worry, sweetie.”

I look into his eyes, which now seem very concerned. There’s no way out of this now, and I have to tell him. “Osc… I… there’s actually something on my mind,” I say, sniffling. A few small tears escape from the corners of my eyes. “Please don’t be mad or put off. I really don’t want to lose you, you mean too much to me. But not just as a friend, more than friends, if you know what I mean. I really, really like you. But I understand if you don’t feel the same way. Oh God, of course you don’t feel the same way, but I hope I don’t lose you because of this. Why am I even saying this? I’m just ruining everything. Oh God, oh God...,” I ramble, tears streaming down my cheeks. Oscar looks at me and starts laughing. First quietly, then louder. 

Wow, I expected many reactions, but not this. My sad expression turns into a slightly angry and confused one. Just as I’m about to turn and leave, Oscar grabs my arm and turns me back to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That reaction wasn’t the best choice. But did you really think I didn’t know? It took exactly two weeks, and my friends were already telling me about the hearts in your eyes when you look at me. And from that point on, I couldn’t miss them either. And don’t worry, I feel the same way. I know how insecure you get with deep feelings. I’m the same way. That’s why I didn’t want to pressure you and just let things develop naturally between us. So no, I’m not mad, I’m not put off, and you definitely won’t lose me, quite the opposite. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same way?”

I exhale in relief and nervously wring my hands before Oscar takes them in his.

“Somehow, I knew you felt something for me because the way you are with me is different from how you are with your other friends. But I couldn’t be sure. And oh God, was I really that obvious? How embarrassing. I’m sorry. But you have no idea how happy I am that you feel the same way. I should have done this much earlier, with the whole open communication about feelings and stuff.”

“Yeah, there are a few things I would have liked to do much earlier...”

I raise my eyebrows questioningly as his face gets closer to mine. Oscar looks into my eyes and then at my lips. His gaze keeps shifting between the two. My heart starts to beat faster, and my mouth goes dry. His lips meet mine, and my eyes close. It’s an explosion of emotions, and I kiss him back. Our small kiss turns into more until we hear cheering and clapping from behind us. Oscar pulls away from me and laughs as he looks behind me. I turn around and see some of our friends a few meters away, grinning widely. They’re whistling and clapping, shouting cheers.

“Seems like this conversation wasn’t just overdue for us, right?” Oscar says, laughing as he wraps an arm around me.

“Yeah, and obviously I wasn’t as subtle with my feelings as I thought. Haha, I really need to work on that!”

“No! You never need to hide your feelings again, they’re far too precious!”

He leans down and gives me a very heartfelt kiss on the forehead.

[5tar-5hin3]

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

John Dory x Reader

“A Chance He Can Take”

Part 1 : “An Unlikely Beginning”

Part 2: “And an Unexpected Ending”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Synopsis:

JD left a long time ago. A long, long time again.

Now he lives alone in the mountains. That is until 1 turns into 2.

He meets another troll.

This one isn’t like anyone he’s ever met before. They’re… different. They hang around for a while and, well, let’s just say they get friendly.

Words: 1,320

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

A/N:

In this story, John Dory wholly believes his brothers failed him and they left him when the didn’t make the perfect family harmony.

He doesn’t believe he left. He believes he had to leave because they weren’t good enough for him. So he’s twisted the story to make it look better on him. He’s a little quirky, but we can fix him. 🫶

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

*5 Years Before*

John was hiking the mountains when he came across something unexpected. Another troll. One similar to him.

They were walking with a small cuddle pup. They were happily hiking the opposite way on the trail. He hadn’t seen anyone for years. This was new to him.

“Hey.” He started the interaction. It startled the other troll. They looked around to see if he meant someone else. Even though rarely anyone trailed this far.

“Oh hey!” They laughed awkwardly. “I’ve never seen another troll up here.”

“Me either.” He agreed with them. “What bring you up all alone?”

“I just needed time away from my family. You know how it is.”

They had no idea how much John Dory under stood that.

They shrugged as she met the other finally. “Name’s Y/N, by the way.” They held out their hand for the other to shake.

The fact he wasn’t immediately recognized was both shocking and relieving to John Dory. Maybe it was for the best that people didn’t remember’BroZone’ anymore.

“You are?” John had left Y/N hanging.

“Sorry,” he grabbed their hand. “I’m-“ he hadn’t gotten this far. Should he say his real name or make a fake one? “JD.”

“Nice to meet you JD.” They smiled brightly. “I best get going now. I have to set up before sun down. Don’t want those nasty critters after my cuddle pup.” John looked down at the small fluffy creature. “Her name is Ruby.”

“You could always camp out with me. I’ve got plenty of room for a guest. It’s probably easier than a tent too. I don’t mean to brag but I do have an armadillo bus.” John was happy to offer his place to them. That meant more company for him.

“Uhh- I don’t know. I think I’d feel more comfortable in my own space.” They politely declined.

“That’s totally fair. Feel free to set up around me though. Never know when you could use a helping hand.” With that, they parted ways.

It wasn’t until much later, when John came back, that he saw a small f/c tent pitched next to his bus. They had taken up one of his offers at the very least. He didn’t bother them, simply minded his own.

It stayed like that for sometime. Y/N would come and go. The first few times they took their tent. But after a while they stopped taking the tent down and left it next to John’s bus.

In between each visit, y/n and John would talk. They slowly grew accustomed to the other. Got used to routines, got used to style. They even started doing thing together, like going for morning runs or hiking.

Since y/n was the only on connected to the “outside world”, they often kept John up to date with troll events. Or the ones that he needed to know the most about. John was actually starting to- he didn’t know how to say it. He was getting a crush? He liked y/n in a way he hadn’t liked anyone else.

Then one day, after coming back from a hike, their tent was gone. He wasn’t worried at first. Y/n was sure to be back tomorrow. They always were. Until they didn’t show up the next day. Or the next. Soon, weeks passed and there was no sign of them. John began to work just a bit.

A month and a half passed before y/n showed up again.

“Y/n!” John happily announced when he saw them. How he missed their company.

“JD!” They smiled at the other. Ruby seemed as happy as ever to see John again. She was happily pouncing at his feet and barking for attention. “Sorry I disappeared on you- family stuff.” They shrugged it off. “I’m back now though, so no worries.” John could see their pack was lighter than before. There was no tent.

John picked the pup up and pet her. “You’re fine. I’ve been up here by myself longer than you can imagine. It was nothing. No tent this time?” John commented. He raised his eyebrow, a bit curious.

“Oh, yeah. I figured, if the offer still stands, that you had room for a guest.” Y/n shyly smiled, a soft blush across their cheeks and on the tips of their ears.

“The offer does stand.” He smiled and set the pup down. “Wanna come inside? Check out the great abode of JD?” He teased.

“I’ll follow you.” Y/n followed John as he went into the bus. It was quite cozy. Nothing like what they expected. “It’s nice.” It seemed almost rustic. It had charm. It was a bit messy, but hey, what can you do?

“Thanks, decorated myself.” He laughed. Y/n set their belongings down next to the door and admired the space.

“You did a good job.” They smiled. “Oh, that reminds me. I found the other glove you said you lost.” They pulled it out of their pocket.

“Wow, I’m impressed. Keep it.” John shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to the one glove. It’s a look now.” Y/n pulled the glove on. It looked quite good actually.

The pair hung out almost everyday after that. Y/n still left occasionally, especially for holidays. They always invited John. He always denied. He liked the solitude.

Y/n basically lived on John’s couch other than that. They cooked and cleaned, he went out and gathered stuff. They were basically a couple, without all that couple stuff.

*A year later*

Y/n was up before John, like they always were. They made his coffee and breakfast. They went out and fed Rhonda then Ruby. The usual. John was up a little afterwards.

“Good morning JD.” Y/n didn’t even raise their head to greet the other. He jumped down from his loft. That’s how they knew he was up.

Today, JD decided he want to be bold. He came up behind them and wrapped his arms around them.

When they started staying with him, they didn’t have a lot of clothes. So they borrowed his often. They were wearing his shirt and it hung down to their mid thigh. It drove him wild.

Y/n wasn’t fazed. They knew it was only a matter of time before one of them made a move. They had a crush on John and they made it obvious. They hummed happily. “Good morning JD.” They repeated.

“Good morning.” He teased. They giggled. “How’d you sleep?”

“About as good as I can with you snoring.” They joked. John didn’t snore, but they always joked he did. He laughed.

“Whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes. He let them go and took his coffee. “You know, you could always sleep in the bed. The couch can’t be that comfortable.” Y/n shook their head.

“It’s not, but I take what I can get.”

“Well, I’m offering my bed. So.”

“Fine, fine.” They laughed. “You could just say you were lonely.”

“Lonely? Lonely? Ha. I’m not lonely, who said I was lonely?” He looked around nervously.

“You’re running behind schedule JD.” They kissed his cheek. “Get dressed and get out there. Ruby is waiting for her walk.”

Y/n walked away to go change back into their everyday clothes as John was left speechless.

He laughed at the interaction before getting changed into his hiking clothes. He went out to hike with Ruby. Y/n stayed behind and cleaned up their mess.

Y/n considered this the ‘start’ of their relationship. They never ‘officially’ stated they were together. But y/n just assumed they were a couple. This would prove to be… not quite the case.

4 years passed and it stayed the same. Y/n did the cleaning and cooking. JD went out. They stayed in this ‘relationship’ for 4 years.

JD got a letter one day, which was weird since they were in the middle of no where. Y/n had opened it. Their morbid curiosity got to them.

They’d regret opening that letter.

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AHHH!! That was so many words holy- I’m working on a part 2 as we speak! I just really wanted to get the first part out! I hope you guys liked it. This is my return to fanfiction. I haven’t written anything serious since 2019- what a time jump.

[the-badger-mole]

Worst Cooks in the Nation

It was strange having a school rivalry somehow spin out of control and become fodder for a reality competition series, but that is exactly where Katara and Zuko now found themselves. After culinary school, they had gone on to become big names-Katara with her globally popular online cooking show and Zuko with his first restaurant earning three stars in it's opening year. They were prepared to never see each other again after graduation, but someone-Katara suspected her friend and Probending promoter Toph, while Zuko smelled his uncle's interference- had gotten into the ear of the executive of the food and travel network who had approached Katara to syndicate her cooking show. She had somehow gotten word of the intense rivalry between Chefs Katara and Zuko- along with some video that neither of them had known existed- and it had given her a brilliant idea.

The woman talked fast, and neither Katara nor Zuko knew how, but by the end of the meeting, they had agreed to two seasons of Worst Cooks in the Nation. The regret set in immediately.

"So..." Katara said, as they walked through the parking lot towards her car.

"Yeah..." Zuko agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Who even took those videos in the first place?"

"Probably Chan," Katara said scowling. "That guy would mind any business that wasn't his own."

"I remember," Zuko's face twisted into something like a grimace. "Still, who records an onion chopping contest?" Katara stopped walking and looked up at Zuko incredulously.

"Chan!" She rolled her eyes. Zuko gave a weak chuckle.

"I guess he's the one who filmed you dumping that salad dressing on my head," he said. "Or that time I let your stone lobsters loose."

"Yeah, why was that guy so obsessed with filming us?" Katara made a face. Zuko shuddered and shrugged. This was new, he mused. Just having a regular, if slightly awkward conversation with Katara.

It had been years-five of them to be exact- since they had seen each other face to face. The bitter rivalry they'd let simmer through 4 years of culinary school had at the end boiled over in a frothy mess. They hadn't spoken a word of the mess they'd made at the end. The small bit of awkwardness between them was a nice surprise, all things considered.

"We're going to keep this competition friendly, right?" Katara asked. She looked up at Zuko with her wide, earnest eyes, tugging at her lip with her teeth. Zuko drew his hands behind his back and clasped them together tightly.

"We're almost thirty," he said. "I think we're past food fights and insults...right?"

"Right!" Katara agreed with alacrity. They walked along in silence for a while, passing row after row of cars.

"What about... that other thing?" Katara asked. She didn't meet Zuko's eye this time. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground a few feet ahead of them.

"The...other thing?" Zuko was grateful for the dim lighting of the parking lot. He could feel the back of his neck heat up.

"You know...we never talked about it, but..." Katara glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. Zuko was glad that she was walking on his left. The scar on his face would make the spectacular blush on his face less noticeable at least.

"We rarely talked about anything," Zuko said with what he hoped was believable nonchalance. "It was shouting matches or silent treatment with us."

"Then why did you kiss me?" Katara asked. Zuko froze midstep. He swallowed once, twice. Three times before he could form words.

"If I recall, you kissed me first," Zuko said. Katara's head snapped up, all the shyness was gone. She scowled at him.

"No," she said. "You definitely kissed me. I remember you were all up in my space, and I was against the counter at my work station and then you leaned in and kissed me." Zuko remembered that almost the same way, only in his recollection, Katara had leaned up to close the space between them. Then his arms had gone around her waist and hers had wound around his neck.

"I remember you holding onto me," he said quietly. "And pulling me back in when I tried to pull away."

"Are you saying I forced you?" Katara demanded. Zuko smirked at that. He could see the flush on her dusky cheeks, and realized maybe the red on his own face wasn't as unnoticeable as he'd hoped.

"No," he said. "I don't remember kissing you first, but I remember wanting to." Katara's eyes went wide, and her blush got hotter.

"Oh," was all she said. Zuko took a breath, shut his eyes.

"It was a long time ago," he told her.

"Yeah," Katara looked down at the ground. "I-I guess it was. I'm not even sure why I brought it up. It's just...if we're going to be working together, we should be on the same page, right?"

"Right," Zuko agreed.

"So...we're doing this?" Katara asked. "Reality TV competitions can get ugly."

"I promise, we'll keep it clean," Zuko said. "No food fighting. No below the belt insults. No...doing anything unfair."

"Smack talking's still allowed?" A half smile tugged at Katara's mouth, and Zuko resisted the urge to catch it with his own. There would be no doubts who would be the initiator here.

"I insist on it," he said. "I can admit it now, but your smack talk is pretty funny. It'll make for good TV." Katara's half smile grew into a full blown grin.

"Alright," she said. "Let's give them a show."

Based on the Bot Plot AU I wrote in Part 1

[lovelywritinglady]

Strangers (Part.2)

Reiner Braun xfem!reader

Three years later and you finally meet him again. But this time as strangers. Will you reconcile?

Angst, mentions of trauma and death. Reiner has low self worth. Talk of suicide, blood, and violence. Fluff, happy ending…

Reiner’s Pov

It’s been three years to the day since the day I lost her. Every moment I’ve spent has been filled with memories of her. Her scent, touch, and voice fill me with sadness and regret. I need to see her, but she’s so far from me now. The future is so unpredictable now and war has been upon Marley for some time. I wonder what’s she’s doing. What she looks like now and how beautiful she’s gotten.

I stared at the sea, the very one that separates us. Wishing she were here to see what I see. Wishing I were holding her hand here, making her laugh, telling her jokes. But I’m not, and she’s not here. I’m scared I’ll never be able to see her again or hear her sweet voice calling my name.

“Damn it all.” I sighed breathing in the salty sea air. I was trying not to think of her anymore as I could feel tears beginning creep.

I began walking along the docs admiring the markets and people around me. I had no where in particular to go as it was my day off, which was rare. There were so many people out today and I found myself accidentally bumping into a few. My head was fuzzy as I tried to push my emotions back once more. I wasn’t looking where I was going this time and bumped into someone and made them fall to the ground. My thoughts came back to me and I focused on the person I accidentally shoved.

“I’m so sorry are you okay.” I said frantically not looking at their face still. I grabbed their hand as I pulled them up. I locked eyes with them and suddenly the whole world stopped. The very air from my lungs had left me and the tears that I was trying so desperately to hold back were starting to fall. As the very person I have needed, loved, and desired was right in front of me and I had just bumped into her.

“Y/n…”

Your pov

One hour earlier…

We finally docked onto Marley dressed as ordinary people because if even one person caught wind that there were enemies on this island, then all hell would break loose. Truthfully, the only reason we were here was to see the other side of the sea. For me, I came to see him. I needed to, my whole body craved it. I hate him, at least I think I do. I love him, but I know that I shouldn’t. Or should I?

Once we left the boat, we were each given time to explore. Levi instructed us to all meet by the woods by sundown as that’s where we’d be staying. He also suggested to go in pairs, but I was on a mission, one more important than anything else. I needed answers and I needed them from him. One hour later I somehow made it to a market filled with people and things I’d never seen before.

“Damn it all.” I sighed walking through a large crowd.

Despite my mission, I was simply awestruck by these people. Many of different faces than I had seen on my island. They were beautiful and it felt nice seeing so many happy people together. I thought about him walking through these very streets. Had he come here often? Was he even interested in markets? What was he doing now? All of those thought plagued my mine and made me feel hazy. Something shiny caught my eye and I turned to look at it from a distance. However, much to my bad luck, I wasn’t paying attention and got thrown off my feet by what felt like a ox.

“Ouch.” I whispered feeling the wind leaving my lungs slightly.

“I’m so sorry are you okay?” The rather familiar voice spoke out in concern.

And just as I was about to respond the figure grabbed my hand and began pulling me to my feet. Once I was balanced, I looked up. Shock waves shot through my body as the very persons I had sought out was right in front of me. The person I loved more than anything was right in front of me more handsome than he was when I lost him…

“Reiner?”

Reiner pov

“Y/n.” I whispered. “Are you real?” I asked not truly believing the breathtaking sight in front of me.

“I hope so.” She responded giving me a smile.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly 

“Hi.” She whispered

“How… how are you?” I asked her after a few moments of simply staring at the woman I loved.

“Relieved.” She replied as a year left her eye.

“Me too.” I admitted. “Y/n, you’re so beautiful.” I whispered breathlessly losing myself in her magical eyes.

“Thank you.” She whimpered as more tears left her.

“Here, please.” I told her as I reached into my coat pocket, taking out a clean handkerchief and handing it to her. As I did, our hands brushed slightly making me let go of a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding.

“Oh thank you.” She said quickly as she wiped her tears.

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” I asked her hoping she’d say yes.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t try anything mister.” Y/n joked chuckling a bit as I laughed too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” I joked back.

“I hope so.” She spoke in a hushed whisper and I could tell she meant to say that to herself so I didn’t respond back.

“I have a good spot on the beach that should be pretty private.” I told her.

“Do you take all of your girls there?” She joked nudging my shoulder slightly. I missed this. I missed her. I just hope that I can find the perfect words to say to her.

“Nah, just you.” I replied seriously looking at her for a moment as we walked side my side to the beach.

“Good.” She smiled

After a few moments of walking and small talk, we made it to my spot. I helped her down to this small cave that most locals didn’t bother going to as it wasn’t as exciting as the rest of Marley. It was a peaceful little cave that was about 6 feet wide and 10 feet long. At the very end of it, you could see the water rising and falling. The sounds of the waves crashing echoed through the spot making a private conversation possible.

“It’s beautiful here. Good spot there Reiner.” She complimented looking around the sea cave. “As beautiful as it is, I need to speak to you about not so pretty things. But I think you know that.” She told me seriously looking straight into my eyes.

“I agree. What do you want to speak about. I promise to tell you anything you’d like to know.” I reassured her.

“Who are you?” She asked simply.

No one’s pov

“My name is Reiner Braun. I’m a warrior of Marley and I’m the holder of the armored titan.” Reiner replied seriously as he stood to the wall of the cave.

“Is see. Who else are you?” You questioned him trying to assess him.

Reiner stilled for a moment trying to decipher the right words to say and what you meant in that very moment.

‘Who am I?’ Reiner thought to himself

The two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, but was really just a few minutes. Reiner had forced himself into an internal conflict with himself at your question. He hasn’t really given who he really was much thought for a long time. He thought he knew, he thought that after the battle at Wall Maria, that he knew who he was. However, with you standing right in front of him after so many years apart, he began questioning everything once again. He took a deep breath letting the salty sea air fill his lungs. He then looked into your eyes giving you a pained, but loving look as the words he needed finally came to him.

“Y/n… I’m not just Reiner Braun, Warrior of Marley. I’m also…” Reiner paused for a moment. “I’m also a man so desperately and completely still and utterly in love with the woman who stands in front of me. And with everything that I have and everything that I am. I’m so sorry for everything that I put you through on your island. For every death, every shitty memory you have because of me, for all of the people I’ve hurt. All I want is to die because of it I know I deserve to suffer for all f the shit I pot you and everyone else through. But I’m not sorry for falling in love with you. For wanting to be with you and for all of the years that I’ve spent missing you.” Reiner admitted as he began sobbing at all of the memories that he had.

“Reiner…” you sighed fresh tears beginning to spill. You couldn’t think of what to say as the confession that you wanted to hear but weren’t sure you are going to receive was just announced by him.

All you could do in that very moment was warp yourself around him. All you could think was to hold him. Your anger was overlooked my your intense love for this man, for Reiner Braun. You held him so tightly against you not wanting to let him slip away once again. You felt him stiffen slightly but hold you just as tightly. You felt him nuzzle into your hair.

“Oh Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I love you.” He spoke desperately feeling free that he was able to tell you the words he’s been waiting years to finally say once more.

“I missed you.” You admitted feeling anxious about saying it back but knowing you needed to. You turned your head up looking into his honey colored eyes and finally spoke the words that you were needing to say. “I love you too. I never stopped.” You told him still holding onto his muscular body.

“Good.” He whispered giving your forehead a affectionate kiss.

“You really hurt me though Reiner and despite the years apart, I’m still hurt.” You said feeling the pain you had felt for the last three years come back however a little less this time.

“I know, and I understand if it will take you time. Just know that I’ll wait as long as you want because you’re worth everything y/n.” Reiner says holding you against him once more.

“Thank you, I think I might have to go soon. But please let me stay here for a little while longer.” You pleated.

“Darling, you can stay here until time itself comes to an end.” Reiner spoke seriously

“Good, because I never want this feeling to end. And I promise you will see me again.” You said kissing his chest.

“I’m looking forward to it, Y/n…”

Thank you so much for reading💜This is the last part of this. Although I might and a prequel to this short series about how these two met and how they feel in love.

@dressycobra7

Please click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment,follow, request, and reblog.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[peachesofteal]

Hi! I reread On a Slow Night, and at the beginning, darling and Johnny had an argument, I was wondering if the guys and darling had any other fights? If they did, what were they about and how serious were they? How often do arguments happen between them? How fast (or long) does it take for arguments to get resolved and how do they usually make up? Do they think that those arguments and the resolutions of those fights make their relationship stronger? Or do they feel the opposite? How do they individually feel or think about any fights they have?

Sorry if that's too many questions, I just love reading your thoughts about those three 😅

Hi! I'm always happy to talk about these three, and I expanded on some of your questions below, sort of. I don't want to elaborate on it too much or too specifically because in the upcoming arc of the story... a lot of the flashbacks are more tenuous times of the relationship (take that for what you will) and I don't want to spoil anything. 🖤

They fight. It would be impossible not to. There are too many variables regarding their relationship for it to not happen.

Johnny and Darling fight more quickly, easily, than any other combination. Sometimes they misunderstand one another, or someone takes something to heart, or someone is out of patience and snaps. They rub against each really explosively sometimes, and things can just... catch fire like that, you know? Johnny and Simon fight the least, because they're so just in sync, in tune, and spend so much of their time together. They also spend so much time in very stressful situations, so it puts a lot of things in perspective. Petty bullshit matters less, because even if Simon gets irritated with Johnny over something he did or said, or vice verse, is it life or death? Is it worth speaking to your partner in anger, knowing it may the last words he ever hears? No. Simon and Darling's fights are probably the worst. They have more of a dom/sub relationship, more so than Simon and Johnny or Johnny and Darling, that the arguments cut deep. Those fights seriously wound Darling, and they hurt everyone in the house, not just those two, because Johnny always feel caught in the middle. Darling may be a bit of a mess, but she's not past pushing and prodding and being stubborn (as we know) when she wants to be.

They all stand staunchly on the side of 'what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger' and they believe that of their arguments too. They try to never, ever go to bed angry with one another, always working to resolve whatever is going on the best they can. They're all able to move on, together. Even when communication isn't at it's best, they really do try to make sure they get it all out, if that makes sense.

Obviously, we know everything isn't perfect. If it was, Chapter 1 would have never happened and we wouldn't have a story. But the outright fights are not what has gotten us here in the first place, I think that's important to note.

They all have a fight, that sticks out in their mind. That haunts them. Simon's is coming up in Chapter 11ish? In a flashback. And then Johnny and Darling's are both after that.

Also I will add that the marriage debacle when Darling left the flat and Simon screamed FUCK in the flat, that was pretty bad. Rare occasion where he fought with Johnny.

Thank you so much for this question! I love any opportunity to talk about my characters like this, and I hope even those this was pretty vague, it helps answer some of your Qs!

[more-better-words]

fic author interview

Yoinked this from @ladytharen because it looked like fun. Hope that's not presumptuous of me. <.<

Tagging @deadheaddaisy, @phoenixflames12, @butcharondir, and anybody else who'd like to play.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60! That's a nice round number.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Currently 593,580 - though in fairness, nearly a third of that is a single fic.

It was a different time back when I wrote that.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The four fics of my Built to Last series (though not in order, lol)

What We Build Here

For the Duration

From the Ground Up

The Place We Call Home

And rounding out the top 5, a Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency fic!

Lay Down the Beat 

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! And because I have very little self-control, I will often do so within minutes of receiving them! 😅

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. I don't really do angst - I mean, I'll write stories where angst happens, but that's rarely the point of the story. If the plot demands a dash of angst, then, much like a chocolate recipe that needs some salt, it will get its angst. But I don't really set out to write A Series of Sad Events in Which the Characters Are Sad; that's just not my style or my taste.

So I can't really say that ANY of my stories have an angsty ending. Oh well.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

With the above in mind, happy endings are basically a guarantee, at least up to a point. 😆 I let my darlings be happy, I let them get married and have things work out, because it's fiction, dammit, and I can.

That being said, probably the happiest of all would be just about any of my Trip/T'Pol fic, because I let them get married and have kids and successful careers and be surrounded by friends and family who love and support them because SCREW YOU CANON.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No, I don't think my brain's wired for that. I just...can't seem to.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never on AO3 (okay, I once got snippily told I'd mistagged something, but that wasn't hate). I have gotten hate here on Tumblr, though never anything specific, just general "u suck" which...whatever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

For a long time, I did not.

That answer has since changed.

As for what kind...the sweetest, fluffiest, most loving, happy, vanilla, tooth rotting smut ever.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and I seriously doubt I ever would. I'm rather niche.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, niche. Haven't yet, doubt I will.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Years ago, I worked on an AU fic project with a friend that was very cool and a lot of fun. None of it ever got published, though.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Which ever one I'm writing right now. 😁

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I wouldn't mind finishing my Shadowrun: Dragonfall fic The Haven. Maybe some day.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, baby! I can have two characters sit and talk to each other FOREVER.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action and physical description. Even when I can clearly see a room where action is occurring in my mind, I have real trouble describing it on the page.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I used to not have any, then I started making up words and phrases in my own version of Andorian for my Trek fic.

And I still don't really have many thoughts, because I'm sure I'm doing it wrong.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Hmmmm. Pretty sure there's some BtVS fic of mine still existent on LiveJournal. 😅

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I'd love to write Discworld (I adore Carrot/Angua), but Discworld is already so perfect. It would have to be an absolute gem of an idea.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Whichever one I just finished. 😄

[alex51324]

It's Almost Here! North American Solar Eclipse, 2024

As I mentioned in that other post, it will be visible as at least a partial eclipse to most of North America, with the path of totality cutting a diagonal from Sinaloa, Mexico to Newfoundland, Canada, including 15 US states from Texas to Maine.

Don't be fooled by how we just had one back in October, and another one a few years ago in 2017: total solar eclipses are rare! They only happen when the Sun, Moon, and Earth line up just perfectly--and only for a small portion of the Earth's surface each time.

It's a wild coincidence that North America/the US has gotten three in such a short span of time; the last one before the recent trio was in 1979, and the next one won't be until 2044. (We do have a big partial coming to us in 2033!) The Northeastern US won't see another until the 2070's.

(Note: If you are not in North America, you can use these maps to see when your continent will have its turn!)

This eclipse is also really special in that its path of totality sweeps across a lot of heavily-populated areas. About 31 million people live within the path of totality, and millions more are expected to visit.

So, it's a pretty big deal, and now's the time to get ready!

If you live in the path of totality:

Lucky you! Look up your location on these maps to get the exact time and duration of totality.

Be ready for extra traffic & crowds--especially if you live somewhere with stuff for tourists, or a place that people outside the immediate area will have heard of.

Totality times are in the afternoon, ranging from about 1:30 in Texas to 3:30 in Maine (local times), so if you'll be at school, or at work in a setting where you can't choose your own break times, now's a good time to talk to whomever you need to. It's not unreasonable to ask to step out into the parking lot for the three minutes that people will be coming from far and wide to see--but depending on your setting, it may take some arranging ahead of time. (If you're in school, hopefully your science teachers have already thought of this, but if not, ask them. And if your science teachers are jerks, try other teachers.

If you live near the path of totality:

Try to go! As the American author Annie Dillard says, "Seeing a partial eclipse bears the same relation to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man does to marrying him, or as flying in an airplane does to falling out of an airplane."

(Link is to the Atlantic; if you hit a paywall, the 12-foot ladder works.)

Here's a map of approximate driving distances to the path of totality, in the US (from this page).

If you're close enough to think about going, here are some Google maps with eclipse overlays for more detailed planning. (I like the Xavier Jubier one.)

Once you're inside the path of totality, anywhere you can see the sun is a valid viewing location, but if you're making a day of it and you want to find a special spot, check local visitor's bureaus or tourism offices for the area you'll be in. They'll probably have a list of parks and other places. For instance, here's what Erie, Pennsylvania has.

Seriously, If you are able to drive/have a car, live within day-trip distance of the path of totality, and can be away from work/school without losing your job/being arrested for truancy, you should go. This is a once-in-a-lifetime type of thing, and there's still loads of time to plan a day-trip.

(Note: If you aren't in day-trip distance, but now you want to go, you don't have a lot of options: hotels and flights have been full for ages. However, if you're in two-days-driving distance, you might be able to find a Sunday-night base camp, from which you can get up on Monday morning and drive several more hours to the path of totality. For instance, in Pennsylvania, there are still reasonably-priced hotel rooms to be had in State College, which is--in normal traffic--three and a half hours from Erie. (You might even be able to get a little closer than that; I just checked State College because they have a lot of hotels for the Penn State football crowds.} So if you're coming from, say, Maryland or Virginia, that could work, and there may be similar creative options for other regions. Again, if this is something that's feasible for you to do, without bankrupting yourself, getting fired, or other long-term consequences, I would strongly consider doing it!

If you live in North America, but have no way to get to the totality:

A partial eclipse is still pretty cool! And again, it'll be a while before you have another chance to see one, so it's worth it to make the time.

All of the 48 contiguous US states will be able to see some amount of eclipse. So will Hawaii, Mexico, Central America, and most of Canada and the Caribbean islands, plus a little bit of South America. (Alaska and part of the Yukon are SOL, but you will have your turn in 2033!)

Use these maps to look up the time and extent of the eclipse in your location.

As of this writing, you can still get eclipse glasses here, among other places. If you run out of time to get them, check for eclipse-viewing events at local parks, libraries, etc.--they may also have some to give away ahead of time, but even if not, if you go to an event, there will almost certainly be some to share.

The plus of a partial eclipse is that you have a fairly relaxed viewing window--as much as a couple of hours, depending how far you are from the middle of the eclipse zone--rather than a standout moment that you want to make sure you're in position for.

That makes it pretty easy to get a chance to see it even if you're at work--everybody can take turns stepping outside for a look. You can share eclipse glasses, too.

[paperclipped-mongoose]

Convincing Enough For You?

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x F! Reader

Summary: An important mission came up, and during the briefing it became clear that Mac didn't think you were the right fit for the flirtatious role.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Use of Y/N (not excessive), First Person, Fight Flirting, Arguing, A malfunctioning MacGyver, A villain who likes to take advantage of women, Couple Arguments. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hey Guys! This my first MacGyver Fanfiction, I love writing the series and characters so let me know if you guys like it! Comments and messages mean the world to me! If you've got any ideas for future fic's my idea box is open! ENJOY!

“I’m not sure if this is the best idea, Matty. You know how they feel about each other.” Riley trailed after her boss as they made their way down the hall to the war room. She had been let in on the game plan for the next mission early because Matty needed her input.

“They’re adults. They can put their feelings, undefined they are, away in order to do their job professionally.” Matty could hope. Ever since you joined the Phoenix Foundation there had been a certain animosity between you and a certain human encyclopedia. You were never sure if it was flirting or trying to get on each other’s nerves. 

Matty could hear the sounds of shouting from the war room down the hall. “Oh, get your head out of the clouds! You know all too well that if it wasn’t for Bozer and Jack you would have blown yourself up, gotten shot, or made some kinda poisonous gas to kill yourself. You think you’re way more aware than you are. But newsflash: you’re not!” You paused to take a breath, you had made sure to choose your words carefully, they were nothing if not the truth. Mac could make a plane out of a recycling bin and some potatoes, but he routinely got his ass saved by Jack in the field, and Bozer in his own home. 

Mac stood in front of the coffee table, his arms crossed tight across his chest. “At least I actually do things to save our asses on missions. Or were you the one who made infrared glasses so we could see the cameras when Riley couldn’t access the system?”

Something about Mac’s defensiveness made you want to egg him on continually. Maybe it was because you liked to hear him talk, even when it wasn’t in a positive way. There were days where the two of you were civil and even friendly, but those days were boring. No conversations would be had, and the day inevitably turned into awkward silence and stares. 

Neither you nor Mac liked it that way. 

So you picked on each other. It was clear there were never any ill intentions, but sometimes it rode the line and, you were sure, made your coworkers wonder if you and Mac were actually mad. To be fair, it was a question that rarely had a simple answer. But that was just the way the two of you were. Complicated. And you wouldn’t have taken it any other way. 

“Can we go one meeting without you two saying something distasteful to each other? One meeting. That’s all I’m asking.” Matty pulled up her screen on the wall before shooting a pointed look at those who stood around the room. Jack observed the screens as they came up, and Riley sat on one of the chairs doing her best to ignore you and Mac, knowing how this would go, and something told her Matty wouldn’t get her wish for peace.

“This is Bryan Snyder.” A rather unpleasant-looking man was pulled up on the full screen along with his Phoenix records. “Hacker extraordinaire with a rap sheet a mile long of gambling offenses.” Matty flashed a couple photos across the screen of Bryan surrounded by presumable winnings and women. 

Riley finally took a cue from Matty and spoke up. "He's had incidents filed with multiple casinos, all stemming from his pension for picking up women who've just fought with their partners, while the partner is around."

Jack scoffed as he found his way to the empty seat next to Riley. “Sounds like he's made a game out of picking up girls on the rebound."

Jack’s comment earned a grin from Riley, who added: "At least he looks like he tips well."

Your leg bounced involuntarily as you fiddled with the few paperclips in your hand—not bending them, just linking them together one after the other to make a chain. It drove Mac mad, and you knew it. He was one who did things with purpose, so idly fiddling with some paperclips without reshaping or bending them clawed at him internally. “So what is our position in this?” you finally spoke up. “I didn’t know the Phoenix Foundation did personal vendetta work for ex-girlfriends.” 

Matty shook her head watching Mac who silently but unsubtly stared you down as you wrapped the paperclip chain around your wrist to make a bracelet. “Not a vendetta. A prevention service for the Parisian government. Snyder holds a virus on his laptop that, if released onto the broadband servers of France, would cause nationwide blackouts and hold millions of people’s information hostage.”

Jack’s face soured at the thought. “Oooh, okay, yeah, so not an angry ex-girlfriend. Got it.”

“We’ve had Riley coding a USB drive that, once plugged in, can give her access to the computer’s system. That way she can corrupt the virus so that when he tries to open it, none of the code will be salvageable. The only thing our team needs to worry about is getting that drive plugged into Snyder’s computer for 8 minutes without him noticing.” 

Another scoff came from Jack. “No offense, Matty, but this guy seems like the kinda nerd to be obsessed with his computer. He’s probably one of those weirdos who treats it like his baby or something.” He immediately turned to Riley who had her computer in her lap. He pressed his lips together and stood up, walking towards the other wall to get as far away from Riley as possible. “I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“Yeah, smart choice.”

“The plan, if you guys will ever let me get to it, is this: Is to send in (Y/N) with a partner to pose as our unhappy couple, Bryan has a stay booked with a casino in Monaco this weekend. It’s his last stop on the way into France. A messy breakup in the middle of the casino should be enough to pique Snyder’s interest, and from there all (Y/N) has to do is get him to take her to his hotel room so she can connect the USB to his laptop, which shouldn’t be so hard given his M.O. After 8 minutes, once Riley’s USB has done its job, (Y/N) will take it out and destroy it so it’s not traceable.” Matty pressed her lips together firmly when she noticed Mac shifting his stance and uncrossing his arms, which normally meant that he had something to say. “Can I help you Blondie?”

Mac took the opportunity and stepped forward. “Why don’t we just send in Riley? If the USB doesn’t work, she’ll be able to disable the virus manually. Plus,” a strong look of disdain settled on his face, “I don’t think (Y/N) can flirt convincingly enough to get him to take her back to his room. It’s dangerous to put the weight of a mission on it without a backup.” 

That got you mad. You stood and eyed Mac in his stupid power stance. His hands on his hips while he stared at the screen as if he was avoiding eye contact with you. You wondered where all of his confidence had suddenly gone.

“Oh? You don’t think I can handle it?” You took a confident couple steps towards Mac. A well-placed hand on his forearm brought his big blue eyes back to you, somewhat confused as to what you were doing but it didn’t seem as if he was going to stop you. 

You took his silence as permission to continue and slid your hand down his arm, bringing your free hand up to play with the suede lapel of his jacket near his chest. You lifted your eyes to meet his for a single, shy moment and couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed. Who thought it was a good idea to give a man with such a perfect face those baby blues? Fuck.

Mac was malfunctioning, his jaw slack as he tried to focus on anything other than how close you were to him. Or the fact he could feel your breath on his neck, or the way your hands held him. Tantalizing and unobtainable. He was sure if either of you did anything in the oncoming moments he’d find himself too deep to back out. 

You slid the fingers fiddling with his jacket past his chest to his abdomen, felt the shiver run up his spine even though he tried his best to hide it. Your fingers reached his beltline with more confidence than you felt, and…there was a undeniable tension. One that left you wondering if perhaps you should excuse yourself and drag Mac into some unoccupied office down the hall. 

A quick smack below the belt and Mac was half-keeled over, gasping for air as you stepped aside with a prideful smirk. “That convincing enough for you?” 

The rest of the team broke into laughter, the sexual and uncalled for tension that was in the room had gone.

“The Macbook needed to reboot there for a moment huh,” Jack said patting your shoulder. “You’ll do just fine, and your mission partner will be there as your backup, you can trust them 

Matty just pulled on that subtle smirk she wore when she knew something was bound to be entertaining. “Well, glad you’re working on your chemistry, because Mac is your mission partner. Try not to cause a scene before the target gets there, though. Wheels up in 2 hours.”

Mac had finally been able to gather himself and recover from the unexpected tap. “Let’s just hope you’re ready for 2 to be playing that game.”

A/N: Thank You guys for reading! I am thinking about making another part about the actual mission or what the aftermath would look like for your and Mac's relationship.

A/N: Remember I'm always open to talk to people (18+) about MacGyver! I love the fandom and want to interact as much as possible. If your interested don't be afraid to shoot me a message!

[spicechica]

Quinten Quist x Fem Reader

(Suggested by: @wingswinger )

You and Quinten met as children, as both of your families wanted you two to get to know each other and the fact that Quintens family wanted him to be surrounded by other children. But Quinten wasn’t really the talkative type, always having his nose in a book or paper, or spending his time in the garden instead of being in school. 

His family thought you would be a good influence on him but nothing ever seemed to rarely change. You weren't the best yourself to be honest, you were always distracted by the smallest things and always liked to play near rivers and trees which would cause dirt to rub off on your clothes causing them to stain. You weren’t the brightest in school either which is why you would always go to Quinten when you found something difficult since he was the smartest person you knew. He would always scold you for your lack of knowledge and not paying attention in school, not like he ever went himself. 

When you were both younger he would take you to see his mother, telling how pretty she was and if she would ever wake up. You were really the one person he would talk to about this, as he was always so sad as a child, but through the years he had just gotten used to it and had visited regularly, watching as her skin and hair slowly began to turn white. 

But now you two were both 16. You were constantly staring back at your watch as you waited for Quinten outside the front gate of his large house. You both had agreed to walk each other to your class, or at least Max told you to make sure he goes to his classes. He had missed a lot lately, which had caused for concern from the headmaster, and Max had been forcing him to go. 

You huff as you check your watch again, knowing if you left now you wouldn't be able to make it to the first period. You goan as you toss your bag over the fence, carefully hopping over since the gate was closed. As your feet land on the ground, you hear the familiar sound of a bike chain rustling through the rocks. Quinten, trying to make an escape from Max. 

“Quinten!” You stop in front of him, causing his bike to brake, sending dirt through the air. “You said we were going to class together.” “Well, i changed my mind,” He replied, riding around you in circles. “You're going to get expelled if you keep missing classes. Max has already told your father.” Quinten just chuckled in response. “Would you stop riding that thing and just sit still for a moment.” He stops his bike and rolls his eyes. 

“Now, what's wrong?” You asked. “Nothing, why do you think something's wrong.” “Well, you’ve missed a bunch of lessons, you try to ignore everyone around you, and you’ve been spending most of your time in that dusty attic of yours. Now I think that’s alarm for concern.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I’ve been having these…dreams.” “Dreams?” You raise a brow. “Yes. Everynight, it’s the same. A place with an inside but no outside.” He pulls out a book from his bag. “Daddy gave me this, and look…” He points at a strange photo, almost resembling the same ones he’s drawn in his journal. 

“Now I talked to him, and I thought I could go to school and live with him and study there, like he said when I was younger. But he said he’d think about it.” Your face slowly turns into a frown. “You mean…you’d move.” “Well, yeah. But we could still see each other…even write.” “Yeah, but knowing you you’ll forget.” You cross your arm like a child and stomp your foot. 

He chuckles as he slowly moves his bike next to you. “It’s not official…yet. But, I think I would remember my one friend who has been there for me,” He smirks. “Now, if your still up for it…how about i ride you to school.” You give him a side glance from behind, catching that smug smirk on his face. You sigh in response. “Fine.” 

You climb on the back of his bike, standing on the two bars on the sides of his back tire, balancing yourself on his shoulders. The bike slowly begins to move as he balances both of yours weight, following the trail through the large overhead trees. 

You feel the light breeze hit your face as your hair flows behind you. Luckily you were wearing leggings underneath your skirt or everyone would have gotten a peak of your rear end. You giggle as he begins to pick up the pace a little, holding tighter onto his neck. He laughs as well. 

It was nice for the both of you to spend time together like this. When you both were younger it took some time for you both to get used to each other or even talk. But after a while you both would always be found together playing in the garden or upstairs in the attic where Quinten would spend most of his time. 

Both of your parents would even joke how two looked cute together, like a couple. But that was silly, you and Quinten were just friends, he would never like someone like you…right? You slowly bend over, your face in front of his upside down, smiling. You then noticed a light red tint forming on his cheeks, causing him to awkwardly chuckle. “You alright, your face is turning red.” “Oh, uh, yeah I'm fine…just a little hot.” Hot? It was cool enough to wear a light jacket, and the breeze from the bike ride was already making you a little chilly 

That was strange. It was rare for Quinten to get flustered like that. Is there something wrong with him? Or is it someone? 

(Part 2?)

[notmyprey]

Tw: A LOT of fatal vore mentions!!!! Injury and some gore. But keep in mind, no one dies, just gets badly hurt.

Betrayal part 1

I've never had many people trust me. It's not that I break promises or that I steal, nothing like that. I just rarely get close to people. But then I met you.

It's been months since I first found out you had been living in the walls of my apartment. Exactly how long have you been there? Neither of us knew, since you dont track time too well, and I hadn't known you were even here till recently. But from what I've gathered from your ramblings, it's been at least a year.

It took a while for you to work up the courage to see me. At first, you wouldn't even come out of the home you had made between my walls. But after about a week of us talking through the wooden panels, I finally convinced you to come out.

The first thing I noticed was that you were small, you were so small, in fact, I could easily compare you to the size of the Barbie dolls I used to play with.

After that, we hit it off. We were best friends, I believe. You loved listening to me talk about the outside world, and I listened to you talk about what new movie you watched. Sometimes, we would talk while cooking together, others we would lie in bed, with you atop my chest listening to my heart while I described what it's like to go to the store.

We were close, very close. That's at least what it looked like. But deep down, something else was stirring, a buzz in my brain that had been there since the day I first heard your voice. I didn't actually care about you. That's what I had to convince myself to think.

All I was doing was waiting for the perfect time to act, that's all. I didn't care about you, I refused to think how lonely I would be without you. I didn't actually like you, never.

I didn't wake up at night and lay my hand across your chest just to know if you were still breathing. I didn't glance over at you when I joked, just to see your smile. I never saw you like that. Because the voices told me you were nothing more than food.

If I thought too much deeper, I knew I would never be able to look at you again for the amount of shame I'd feel would be too great. So I didn't think about it. You were food, and I refused to think any deeper.

Although the voices were hungry, I told myself that I must wait for the perfect conditions. You had to be tired, so you wouldn't squirm too much. I had to have gotten a good nights rest, so I could chase you if needed. No one could be coming to my house that day, nor could I have any meetings. I needed to just have gone grocery shopping so that people wouldn't hear or see you withering in my gut. This list continued, being added almost endlessly any time I thought of something else to make it even just a little bit longer. But most importantly, I needed you to trust me. I needed to wait until you trusted me more than anything.

I didn't think that would happen. I never thought all conditions would ever be met, and I think some small part of me created the conditions to never be met. But today, when I got out of bed and turned to face you, that's when I knew each box had been checked.

I tried to turn back, I really did. But the voices had grown louder than ever before, and before I knew it, I was gripping your tiny form in between both of my hands.

You didn't move. You didn't even struggle, only gazing up at me, confusion and worry spreading across your face.

Like that, we stayed for a moment, my hungry eyes not seeming to be understood by you. You smile at me and ask if I'm alright, I didn't respond. I knew if I took even the slightest effort to talk, every emotion I had held back behind the wall of hunger would spill out. So I didn't talk.

Instead, I focused on the now. This is the moment I have waited months for. This is the moment I've envisioned in ever so much detail. How nice you would feel on my tongue, the small kicks that would start to come from my stomach as you fought against your final resting place. But between the hungry voices, gnawing at my brain, telling me to shove you down my awaiting throat, I found myself thinking of the stuff I've avoided for so long. How I would miss you small weight on my chest, how I would miss you talking durring movies, telling me about how this actor played in another movie, or how the sequel contradicts whats said in the original.

Shaking, I held you up closer, my hands moving without me telling them to. I thought of how much I've grown to like you. Your head touched my tongue, sending chills of flavor unlike any other down my spine. I thought about how much you trusted me. You didn't move, limply letting my tongue move around your face. I thought about how much love you had shown me. I swallowed, sending your head and sholders into my throat. I thought about how much I felt I needed you here with me. Another swallow, this one more powerful, sending your whole torso and upper legs into the confines of my throat. You meant so much to me. One more swallow, and all that was left were your feet in my mouth. But you're only food, right? The rest of you was sent into the ever waiting void of my throat with one more slow, thick gulp.

My head started to feel heavy since you took up quite a bit of the space in my throat, space that was often used to breathe. But soon, I felt you slip into my stomach. I brased myself, waiting for the kicks that were soon to come. But I felt nothing. A small flicker of movement in my abdomen made me flinch, but it quickly stopped again.

I wanted to run my hand across you, but something seemed to be stopping me. Guilt, perhaps? I think whatever it was, it was the same thing stopping me from looking down on myself. I felt gross, somewhat sick, almost like I had just eaten something I wasn't supposed to. Perhaps that was the guilt, too?

"Did I taste good?" Your small voice echoed through my head. I could hardly think it was real, but it would have been hard to have guilt hallucinate a voice from someone now so close to me.

I couldn't bring myself to answer, not because the answer was unclear, but because my voice refused to come out. No matter how I tried, the most I could do was whine a pathetic, "ya," in response.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks. Everything felt overwhelming all of a sudden. I flopped onto the floor, bringing my knees to my chest. As I did so, I could feel you curl up too, your tiny form now compressed more now that I was putting more pressure on my middle.

That's when I started crying. Goodness knows why, but now Im sure the emotion I was feeling was horrible, gut-wrenching guilt. Months of effort, love, and care down the drain because I couldn't contain myself.

Your small hand pressed against me from the inside, I think you started talking, but my head was throbbing, drowning out your words. Without warning, you screamed out in pain. Your speaking became more panicked, like something was stealing your ability to breathe. Soon, you had started crying, too.

I could hardly take it, my heart wrenched ever so painfully. How had I ever thought I should do this? How could I ever do this? The illness in my stomach came to its peak, and my eyes started to blur as I hunched over. You started to get forced back up my throat. Soon, I tasted you once again on my tongue, this time though you didn't taste pleasant.

It was a mixture of your original sweetness, but it was nearly drowned out completely by the bitter acid and sour blood that came with it.

Soon, through the tears still draining from my eyes, I saw your body hit the floor in a mixture of other fluids. While still foggy, my mind seemed to work with me, telling my arms to scoop you up and for my legs to tumble towards the bathroom. I set you down in the sink, not even bothering to wipe my blurry eyes as I turn on the cold water. With a couple of blinks, my vision cleared enough to focus. Your left eye was swollen, closed shut with red and yellow liquid flowing around it. Though comparatively, the rest of you didn't look nearly as bad, I knew it still hurt. Any time I glanced at a new area of exposed skin, I found a new red burn, showing the bloody flesh underneath.

You started to shiver, but I couldn't take you out of the water yet. I needed to make sure all of the acid was off of you. Soon though, after I thought that everything was rinsed off, I sped to the closet to grab a towel, then started gently drying you off. While you continued to dry off and wrap the towel around you, I rummaged through my first aid kit to find something to wrap over your eye.

Dropping to one knee to get a better look, I gently placed some tissue over your eye, then wrapped a cloth bandage over it to keep it in place.

I dropped my hands to my side, unable to take my eyes off you. Not even 20 minutes ago, you had been smiling up at me, happy and healthy. Now, I knew I'd never see that side of you again.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 12

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

Warnings: Heavy emotional themes including reference to past suicidal ideations.

A/N: Divider by me again

series masterlist

“Fun night?”

Osha froze in the middle of taking her boots off. She couldn’t even make sense of what was happening—her mind was still on the doormat outside, damning her dreams and wondering where she went wrong. The burning afterimage of Qimir’s back still rested in her retinas, now fading with each second she stared at the light spilling from the doorway to the kitchen.

She approached Mae slowly, her boots still just a little untied.

Mae must have been waiting a while for her. What other reason would she be sitting at the kitchen table at a quarter past five in the morning?

“Long night. Jury’s out on fun.” She hated that her new instincts dictated that she throw up her emotional walls around her twin sister, but Mae looked just as uncomfortable.

Mae chewed her lip and laced her fingers together beneath her chin. “Who were you out with?”

“What’s it matter to you, Mae?” Osha snapped, leaning on the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed.

“It—” Mae stopped herself, the flare of frustration in her face draining just as quickly as it had come. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, you’re right. And you were right, last week; I’m not owed information about your life. Not after what I did.”

“So why are you here, Mae?” Osha asked, weary. Her feet hurt, and she needed to get a head start on her bedtime stretching or she’d be suffering before her shift at the cafe in a few hours.

Mae rubbed at her forehead. “I wanted to give you time before we talked again, and it wasn’t—it wasn’t right of me to just pile my stuff onto you right as you were leaving for class last week. I’m sorry for doing that. I know it made an already bad day worse for you.”

She winced at the memory.

Can you just drop it, Mae? For, like, maybe an actual week? You had two years to tell me all about him.

That day seemed like an eternity ago, even though it had just been seven days. 

Her apology was, at the very least, sincere. Mae was stubborn; she rarely admitted she was wrong, especially where Osha was concerned. “I’ve gotten over it,” Osha said. “Just… if you want to talk to me about the heavy shit, you could ask me before you just unload it on me.”

Mae nodded, contrite. The silence that followed felt fraught with tension.

“Was that all you wanted to say?” Osha prompted.

Her sister shook her head but didn’t continue.

Irritation flared. She was too tired for this shit. “I’m sick of being punished for not asking you the right questions when you could have spared me all this by just being forthright, Mae.” She pushed off the doorframe, intending to go start her stretches.

“It’s not all I wanted to say,” she said hastily. “And you’re—you’re right, I’m just—let me restart. Please, Oshie.”

She gestured to Mae to continue, to convince her to stay.

She took a shaky breath, knuckles going pale as she squeezed her hands together. “A little over a year after I started training with Qimir, we were leaving the climbing gym near the college one night when Indara saw us.”

Osha took the seat across from her at the table. This wasn’t what she was expecting to hear.

“A… year?”

“Almost a year ago, now. More like eleven months.”

“But… Vernestra only talked to me about it a few weeks ago,” Osha said, frowning.

Mae nodded. “It surprised me when you said Vernestra accused you of that. Because of the time thing, and because Indara knew it was me and not you.”

Not many people cared enough to get to know Osha and her sister well enough to readily tell the difference between them. Sol mistook Osha for Mae about as much as he got it right, and he was their dad. Vernestra could tell them apart, always looking down toward Osha’s ankle before addressing her. In those moments, she wished she would have just been called Mae. For Indara to know the difference wasn’t suspicious, but it was surprising. 

“Did Indara tell Vernestra otherwise?”

Mae shook her head. “She told Vernestra it was me that same night, I think. Because Vernestra talked to me like the next morning, and she said she knew it was me, and I was—” Mae exhaled sharply, frustrated.

Mae wasn’t as concise in her words as her sister had to be. It was so easy for others to misconstrue Osha’s words that she had to be careful about how she worded things, lest it come back to bite her. Mae, on the other hand, was a whirwind of chatter who could sweep herself through five different topics in one breath.

“I’m sorry. The more I realize how deep this all got, the more I realize I should have just talked to you. But then things got so complicated…”

Osha ignored the self-pity in favor of more information. “Okay, so Indara told Vernestra it was you, and then what?”

Mae gathered her composure. Osha didn’t blame her for being so mixed up; it was really damn late. “She—Vernestra called me into her office. She asked me what I was doing with him.”

She didn’t question how Vernestra knew it was Qimir—if Indara could tell it was Mae and not Osha, she could tell it was him even after fifteen years. “And you told her?”

“Of course I did, I wasn’t going to—”

Osha felt cruel when she said, “You weren’t going to lie to her?”

But you lied to your sister.

The silent parts of the conversation sat loud between them. Osha’s eyes burned, half from the late hour and half from tears. She didn’t watch Mae’s reaction, but it was so quiet she could practically hear her sister’s heart break. “What’d she say?” Osha asked, voice a little pitchy.

“She… told me who he was.”

Osha’s stomach dropped. Qimir’s voice rang in her ears from what he told her the first day he brought her to his place.

Vernestra mentored me personally and got me ready for competition and tournaments. I was in the ring with her every single day…

Over the four years I trained with her, she managed to convince me that my pain wasn’t real…

They saw the seventeen-year-old killing himself for scraps…

She was responsible for a completely avoidable mistake. It went down as an accident, and she slipped any blame…

I didn’t hear from Vernestra or any of the other trainers at the Temple once.

“What did she tell you?”

Osha watched as Mae realized in real time that she had only been told a critically small amount of the objective truth. She sounded nervous as she answered.

“She told me Qimir Lohar-nee—”

“Lo-harne.”

“Sorry, Loharne—she said he was a disgruntled former gym member who sought to drag the Temple’s name through the mud because he was kicked out for violating gym policy.”

Something in Osha’s eye twitched. “Which policy?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that’s all she told you?”

“That’s—what do you mean?”

“That is so disgustingly far from the truth I can’t even begin to unpack it. Did she tell you he was a seventeen-year-old orphan when he was kicked out of the Temple?” Osha asked, getting heated.

She had to cool her jets. Qimir’s story wasn’t hers to share, as little of it as she knew. Osha knew what it felt like for her business to be made public for anybody to gawk at. She didn’t want to give Mae anything about him that she hadn’t asked him for. 

Mae looked pained, wincing. “He didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“What else did she say? What happened.”

“She told me she paid some press agency to keep him from slandering the gym and that he’d been under the radar for a long time—he used to try to break in after hours for a few years after he was kicked out. She told me that him training me was a sign he was trying to get back into his smear campaign. That I needed to—”

“What, did she want you to spy on him or something?”

Mae’s stricken expression told her all she needed to know. It recontextualized a lot of things she’d heard over the last few weeks—from him and from her.

Ask your sister who I am. Maybe you’ll take the fuck off option next time I offer it.

I had been given, more, well, more hours, kind of, at the gym…

Mae never asked and wouldn’t have believed me if I told her. If she did tell anyone about me, it’s unlikely they’d find me. I prefer it that way.

She recalled how his eyes had sharpened when she told him she’d been looking for him two weeks ago, when she’d stumbled into the Unknown Planet fight night. Mae had put that paranoia there, somehow.

“Mae…”

Her sister spoke quickly, thoughts coming out rapid-fire across the table. “I mean, it makes sense, right? He’d use one of the inside members to finally get his revenge or whatever. And it worried me when he started paying attention to you, and I don’t know what’s going on, but he still might be trying to use one of us to—”

Their first drinks at Unplan. He’d been so playful when she asked—

Are you trying to get me to train with you?

Can you blame me?

Osha shook off the paranoia Mae was inspiring in her. “Stop it.”

“Until that point, I didn’t know anything about him. He didn’t talk about his past.”

“He is entitled to his privacy.”

She went on like Osha hadn’t spoken. “He was super professional all the time. He was a pretty strict trainer, but he was never mean. And I felt… when Vernestra told me what he’d done to the Temple, I felt like I understood why he didn’t want me to know. It felt like he’d like, lured me into training with him to attack the Temple or something.”

Osha rolled her eyes. “You asked him to train you. Nobody made you pay him for that. Don’t rewrite history because someone else tried to sell you the truth of someone else’s life.”

Mae halted in her tirade, jolting in place. “You’re… you do know more about him, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. Because I didn’t give him a reason not to trust me, Mae, most people tend to be open and honest when they trust you.”

She took the dig with grace. “Yeah, well. You try telling Vernestra no.”

“That’s not an excuse to spy on him to some random person. He’s a human fucking being, Mae.”

She hung her head. “I know that… but Vernestra had all these pictures of him where he just looked so angry, and she showed me these conversations where he kept trying to get these journalists to lie about the gym, all these attempts where he tried hacking the site and her emails…”

Osha leaned in, the chair creaking behind her. “You thought that pictures of a teenager from more than fifteen years ago were enough of a reason to help Vernestra stalk him? He just wanted to be left alone!”

She felt nauseous. Mae looked equally miserable.

“So what happened? She showed you some bullshit and shared her side of the story. What did you do?”

“He… Vernestra wanted to know anything about him. His whereabouts the last few years, where he worked, who he associated with, his feelings about the gym, about her. I knew he assisted at the college already, that’s how I met him, but he wouldn’t tell me if he worked there or anything. I wasn’t good at it. The asking part. He kinda. It was really weird.”

Osha tried not to snap at her sister to get to the point, but the cold sweat of anxiety was making her shiver.

“A few months before I quit, he—I…”

Her self-control splintered. “Spit it out, Mae.”

“I asked him if he remembered what it was like at the Temple.”

Osha held her breath—no, she couldn’t breathe. This was bad.

“And he… he turned so cold the second I asked. He said yes, I do and… he became such a mean guy, after that. He was so angry. He looked just like he did in those photos Vernestra showed me.”

Osha put her head in her hands.

“He still took my money, and he trained me, but he would, I don’t know, yell at me while I trained with him. I couldn’t ask him the things Vernestra wanted to know. She was fine just knowing he was upset, I think. And it was so weird, he’d show up with all these crazy cuts and bruises and injuries. Like he’d gotten into a fight or something—a real fight, I mean.”

“How long ago did you ask him if he remembered?” Tears welled in Osha’s eyes, and she blinked them away before they could fall. She dreaded Mae’s answer, but she already knew it.

“Like eight months before I quit. So about ten months ago, total.”

Your nine-month reigning champion, here to make it ten…

She was going to be sick.

He’d joined the brawl after Mae had—

Fighters in the cage want to fight so badly that they’ll say, fuck the rules, I want someone to pay for the pain I’m feeling.

That cold fury he fought with, the brutality, the violence—

It haunts you, the awareness that your capacity to inflict violence is so close at hand.

Many of us learn it—in lessons taught by the unkind.

“—and it was difficult, but Vernestra wanted me to keep training with him. She made me a shift supervisor and gave me a raise so I wouldn’t quit. Then she—”

“She promoted you because you were spying on him?” Osha asked, still feeling a little outside her body. “Oh my god. This is—Mae, this is insane. She—”

Vernestra was stalking him. Her sister had taken bribes to facilitate it.

Knowing what she knew about his past with the gym, and the hypervigilance that remained with him years later, she was sure that trauma had unearthed itself from the quiet, content life he’d carved for himself out of rock bottom.

“What else?” Osha said, her voice wavering. She realized she was crying. 

Mae was near tears herself. “I’m sorry, Oshie,” she whispered. “I’m so so sorry. She told me I was helping the Temple.”

“What. Else.”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

Her despair mixed with a cocktail of rage. “Why not?”

“I don’t know if I’m… allowed.”

“I’m sure we’re past the point of allowed in this conversation.” 

Mae looked pale with stress. “It wasn’t fun training with him anymore. I was tired all the time, and he was so suspicious of me all the time. I think he knew what I was up to—no, I knew, by the end. And then a few months ago—two months ago, I told him I didn’t want to anymore.”

Osha sat with bated breath.

“I stopped us right in the middle of a spar. It was like he disappeared; his eyes went black. I… he was scary, Osha.”

That didn’t sound right. “What did you say to him?”

Mae looked hurt and confused. “I told you, I said I didn’t—”

“Mae, what exact words did you say to him?”

Mae chewed her lip the same way Osha did when she was trying really hard to put the right words together. “I said, ‘This is the last round, Qimir.’”

“You called him by his name?”

Mae didn’t see anything wrong with that, but Osha did.

I never gave that name to Mae.

’Til I was about 20, I went only by Qimir. Then I distanced myself from it as hard as I could, and told everyone my name was Q.

“Yeah, I wanted him to know I was serious. Anyway, he told me he knew what I was up to and that I could tell Vernestra to… well, to go eff herself.” All these terrible actions, and she was still too shy to swear.

“And did you? Tell her?”

“Of course. She accepted that I was done, thankfully. And she…” Misery shone through her eyes like a goddamn lighthouse. “She gave me the junior trainer job to keep me quiet. I didn’t have a choice. She made me sign—Osha, please.”

Osha was pacing the kitchen now. “I can’t fucking believe this. Mae, did you ever stop and think for one second that this man just wanted to be left alone?”

She was a little gobsmacked. “You’re—you’re not mad about the trainer position?”

“Forget about the trainer position, Mae!” Osha leaned on the fridge. “I am so unbelievably—you respected him as your trainer for over a year and threw that all away because Vernestra told you some vague, highly biased story that you instantly believed?”

“I—well, if his reaction to just talking about the Temple was that bad—”

“You asked… you asked him if he remembered what it was like—”

“I didn’t know he’d react like that. I didn’t know!”

“Mae…” Osha felt like she was losing her balance while standing still. All the injuries he must have sustained in the brawls, all the pain he felt—

Fuck the rules, I want someone to pay for the pain I’m feeling—

“Asking him that is like asking me if I remember what it was like in Bestine.”

Mae flinched, face morphing into horror the longer she imagined herself in Osha’s shoes. Osha couldn’t stop, sobbing as she spoke.

“All you technically asked is what it was like, but what I would hear is you asking me if I—” It was hard to get the words out. “—if I remember what the mat smelled like, felt like. If I remember seeing Sol crying. If I remember any of the pain I felt before passing out, and then if I remember any of it after I woke up. If I remember how much everybody hated me for getting hurt. If I remember what an embarrassment I was to all my friends and h-heroes. To my dad. If I remember all the times I wanted to escape it. Permanently.”

“Oh my god,” Mae whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god.”

“Of course he remembered. It was the worst fucking time of his life. Vernestra won’t let him forget it.”

Osha looked at the clock a second before it ticked over to 06:00. Her soul felt like it’d been dragged across glass. Mae cried quietly across from her, and Osha did her best not to stifle her pain. Not this time. Never again.

They both eventually calmed down enough to look each other in the eye. “The man you knew, the professional, the good coach, that’s the guy he fought hard to be. Vernestra doesn’t care; she wants to destroy him.”

“What do we do?” Mae asked, shoulders turned in.

Osha didn’t have the answers. She hadn’t slept, and her emotions were in a fucking crisis. “I don’t know,” she said in a whisper. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can do.”

She reached out a hand, palm-up, to her sister. Mae looked at it like she couldn’t quite believe it for a few seconds before taking it, clasping it like a lifeline. Osha’s heart, fractured and bruised as it was, swelled with the familiar muscle ache that meant healing.

It strengthened her resolve. “Thank you for telling me all that, Mae. A lot of it is… misinformed, but that’s not the point. I just need you to be careful. Vernestra won’t like that I know what’s going on.”

Mae shook her head. “She’s… thorough, that’s for sure.”

Osha wasn’t sure exactly what she was talking about, but nodded anyway, bleary-eyed and half-asleep. “We can talk about this later. I need to sleep.”

Mae smiled. It was a shaky thing, but it was returned, and that’s what mattered.

She called in sick to work before going to bed. She was not in the right headspace to deal with customers arguing that she made somebody else’s drink incorrectly. This is for the best, she thought as she fell asleep.

Her dreams were fitful, chased in a maelstrom by what she’d told Mae and what Mae said to her. It wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the brief dream she’d had in Qimir’s car.

She felt pretty numb by the time she woke up later that evening. The weight of what Mae had told her sat on her shoulders like a yoke—but not so heavy as the weight of her last question.

What do we do?

The idea of doing nothing filled her with indignant fury. She started there: Vernestra could not get away with this. Qimir had the right to live a quiet life outside the scope of her influence—and so did she, for that matter. Neither of them deserved to have lies spread about them, nor did they deserve to become pariahs for a terrible accident.

The issue was that with every inch of the mystery she peeled back, the conspiracy behind it grew ten times more complicated. She couldn’t keep track of it all, but she knew someone who could—someone who probably already did.

Someone with skin in the game.

When Monday morning rolled around, she knew she couldn’t wait until training that evening. She had to bring this to him sooner.

Two things worked out in her favor: she had Monday off because of the decreased hours, and her car was ready to be picked up from the shop. On her way to the community college, she hit a Starbucks drive-thru so she wouldn’t arrive empty-handed.

The admin assistant behind the welcome desk greeted her with a smile. “Hello! Can I help you find anything?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for…” Shit, what was it he said the athletes called him? “Coach Lo. Is he in?”

The admin halted, looking down at their desk and moving a few things to the side. They flicked their eyes up and down between Osha’s face and whatever they were looking at before they relaxed.

“Coach Lo is on sabbati—wait, not anymore. Sorry about that. A little discombobulated,” They grinned sheepishly. “Today’s his office day, but he stepped out to monitor swim practice. Are you on his schedule?”

Sabbatical? When had he gone on sabbatical? Her face must have said something because the receptionist continued.

“Ah, well. He should be done soon—would you like to wait for him in his office?”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great, actually. But I don’t… this is embarrassing; it’s my first time visiting him at work, and I wanted to surprise him.” She tried to smile sweetly, and assured herself it wasn’t technically a lie. She held up the two coffees like festive cardboard access badges.

The receptionist just smiled. “I can take you there. I’m Cam.”

“I’m Osha.”

They chatted lightly as they walked through several winding hallways and down a gently sloping ramp. “I can’t believe they sent you on a wild goose chase around campus.”

“That’s what it felt like,” Osha sighed. “If I’d been out there any longer, these would have probably become iced coffees.”

They stopped in front of a door with a nameplate that said Q. Loharne, PT, DPT, CREX, LMT… and a whole bunch of other letters that went right over Osha’s head. Beneath his name was his title: Rehabilitation Coordinator.

Cam swiped a keycard to let Osha into his office, and she tried not to cringe at the utter breach of security she was definitely committing.

“He should be finishing up with practice soon, but you can wait for him in here.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re here to surprise him,” Cam said. “He’d been pretty wound-tight for a while, and it seemed like he needed that break two-ish months ago. We were all pretty worried when he took it so abruptly, though.”

“Who’s we?” she asked curiously.

Cam’s disposition went from sunny to summery. Their answer tested their lung capacity, and it reminded Osha of Mae with an aching kind of fondness. “Oh, all of us! We love Coach Lo. Last summer—not like a few months ago summer but like laaast summer—I broke four of my fingers playing water polo and he called me an idiot for like three weeks straight including on my birthday but he made sure I’d be able to play volleyball by the time spring came around. He still asks me how I’m doing with it. He’s like that with all of us. If someone asks for his help, he’ll do everything to help them. I’ve never met another trainer like him.”

It warmed her heart. Qimir had really carved a place for himself here. It made the dark cloud hanging over his current situation that much sadder. She peered closer at one of the pictures on the wall: he was on the sidelines of a sporting event, making a completely undignified face while a giant jug of ice water was poured over his back. Wow, he really is a coach.

“I’ve never met anyone like him either,” Osha said when Cam hadn’t spoken up again.

“Sooo, have you been seeing each other long? Coach Lo doesn’t really talk about himself and doesn’t really get visitors but… if it were anybody else but him, you might make the gossip rounds in the athletics department.”

“Huh?”

“It’s kind of a rule. We don’t gossip about Coach Lo.” That certainly wasn’t the case at Unknown Planet. She’d been practically hounded with questions the few times Qimir had left her alone in the gym.

Osha grimaced. “We… yeah, it’s a more recent. Thing. Us.”

“Ah, so past the talking phase and now you’re going on dates and stuff?”

A laugh exploded out of her before she could help it. The what phase? Cam almost started looking suspicious, but she recovered quickly. “He’s, uh, taken me dancing.”

Their eyebrows flew up. “Coach Lo? Dancing?”

“I was surprised, too,” she said, accidentally taking a sip of his coffee and cursing when she left some lipstick on the white lid—okay, just give up on the lipstick, girl. He’s not gonna fuck it up how you want.

“Well, I gotta get back to my desk, but it was really nice to meet you, Osha!”

“You too, Cam.”

And then she was alone. In his office. Holding two festive cardboard cups of coffee and feeling more than a little in over her head. She hadn’t quite thought this out—honestly, she thought she would have been turned away the second she asked for him. She was 90% sure she’d broken some kind of security protocol by implying she was dating him just to get inside.

Oh well.

Maybe he’d be cool with it.

She set both cups on his desk and drifted around the room to resume snooping.

Osha had seen several spaces that belonged to him by now. His apartment, his dressing room at Unknown Planet, and his car were all neat and organized. Every inch had a sense of gratitude to it and from that gratitude, order. Mae and Osha hadn’t been orphaned long enough to have seen the inside of the FDO, but she could guess that scarcity was the norm there.

She would never have guessed this office was his without the nameplate outside telling her so. This space was more Osha’s speed: chaos. Random papers had been left strewn across most surfaces. The remaining space was covered by a truly baffling amount of reference texts, coffee mugs, and stacked file folders. She huffed a laugh at the sight of the dusty, powered-down desktop computer hiding among a pile of random crap, demoted to nothing more than a strange feature of the desk.

She recognized some familiar things: his black backpack, the laptop bag from his apartment, and the jacket he’d worn two nights ago. Everything else was foreign—but exceptionally compelling. Osha took it all in with hungry eyes.

His accolades were displayed with respect on the cement brick walls. There it was—Qimir X. Loharne, Doctor of Science in Exercise Physiology & Physical Therapy, magna cum laude.

“Hot damn,” she whispered to herself. “I barely graduated high school.”

Framed certificates and licenses neatly lined the space around it, a clear point of pride for him. Past that, there were plaques of achievement, awards given in thanks for his work with different groups, photographs of sports teams, and action shots of games. He wasn’t in all of the photos, but she could see his face and recognized the back of his head in a few.

She jumped nearly out of her skin when she realized two news clippings on the wall were much older than the others: the articles Osha had given him from the Temple and Sol’s apartment. Why did he—

Voices came by from down the hall.

“Cam, what do you mean, my girlfriend is in my office?”

Oh god. He’s here.

Two pairs of footsteps echoed down to her, and panic seized control of Osha’s movements. She sat down in the chair behind his desk, only briefly considering how presumptuous it might seem. Another pulse of insanity had her kicking her feet onto the one empty inch of his desk.

Many things happened at once.

He burst through the door, wearing a stricken expression she’d never seen before. He looked younger, but in a way that meant he looked scared. The moment he alighted on Osha in his chair, the fear left his eyes, and surprise took its place. Osha flinched mid-kick, and the integrity of the desk chair failed, sending her flipping backward toward the floor.

The moment seemed cartoonishly long.

She yelped at the same time he said her name, and within that one dizzying second, he somehow caught her. Kneeling beside her, he held her head in one hand and her shoulder in the other—holding her with a gentle strength that would have made her swoon if she were standing. Only the chair had made contact with the floor, clattering loudly behind her head. She winced and blinked at him as the world attempted to right itself. 

He still wore that dumbstruck look, and she was sure she looked pretty similar. His usual black baseball cap had been knocked askew, freeing some wisps of hair to frame his eyes. He’d gone from put together to disheveled in the span of a second, all because she couldn’t keep her goddamn balance sitting down.

They remained frozen like that for another long second, and then—

He started to laugh.

It started raspy and grew richer the longer she listened. She’d never heard him laugh like that before—he often just exhaled sharply in amusement or gave a single ha. to whatever silly thing she said or did. It stunned her more than flipping ass-over-teakettle in his desk chair. Once he started laughing, he couldn’t stop.

Osha gave in and joined him when it became clear he wouldn’t let her go anytime soon. 

The ridiculousness of her blunder and the sound of his joy cleared away the anxiety of arriving here unannounced. When he finally caught his breath, he looked down at her with the widest smile she’d seen on him yet. “Hi,” he said, voice still hitching with laughter. “Just dropping by?”

When he smiled at her like that, it was hard to remember what it felt like to cry.

She groaned at the pun but couldn’t help giggling along with him.“Hi,” she said. “I, uh, I brought you coffee.” Her heart wasn’t just racing; it was doing acrobatic stunts in her ribcage.

He looked up like he just noticed they were in his office. He saw the festive cardboard cups in their festive cardboard sleeves. “You did.”

She let him fuss over her as he helped her stand—until his face took on a more severe expression that told her he’d gone full injury-assessment mode. “I’m fine!” she insisted, batting at his hands.

The attractive pout on his lips undermined his glare. God, he was so close… it could be so easy to—

Cam filled the doorway. If Qimir had outrun them, he must have been booking it to investigate. “Coach Lo! Is everything okay? Should I call—”

“We’re fine, Cam. Thank you for checking, though.” Another setting, another voice of his. This time, he spoke with a familiar, unimpeachable authority that made her heart race. At the same time, it also carried a fond undertone, an undeniable compassion he reserved for any of the students in his care—Cam, in this case. 

She saw him take one of his pulse-taming breaths, a slow inhale followed by rock-steady stillness. Sheesh, you even memorized the way he breathes. Osha, be for fucking real.

She peeked around her stranger’s broad shoulder to wave at them. “Hi Cam!”

The receptionist sighed in relief. “Okay, great. When you took off like that, I thought I’d let in just some random person.” Osha bit her tongue. “But she didn’t match the—”

“No, Osha’s perfect,” her stranger said quickly. “I just didn’t expect to see her ’til tonight.” He tilted his head down to look at her, curiosity shimmering in his eyes. What are you doing here? those dark irises asked.

His expression hardened somewhat at the ‘we gotta talk’ face she made.

“Well great! It was nice to meet you again, Osha!” Cam said. “Bye, Coach Lo! You two have a good day!” They shut the door as they left.

The quiet enveloped them the way it seemed to love doing. He didn’t move from his spot in front of her but took off his cap, just to re-fit it on his head. Fidgeting. Her stranger was fidgeting. “I know it’s a mess in here, sorry.”

“You should see my room.” Objectively, it sounded like an invitation. A very large part of her mind wanted it to be an invitation.

But he rolled with it. “I can imagine.” He leaned back to grab his coffee. He hummed when he saw the plum-purple kiss she’d left on his cup. “This for me?” he asked, holding eye contact as he placed his mouth right over it to take a sip. She couldn’t move—even if she could, she wouldn’t have wanted to. He smirked. “Yeah, that’s for me.”

Was he talking about the coffee or the—

She made herself move; otherwise, this whole conversation would derail before it ever left the station. “What brought you here?” he asked once she sat across from the desk.

“I need to tell you something.”

A flash of worry crossed his features, but he hid it beneath an attempt at humor. “And here I was thinking you just wanted to see me.”

“In your dreams,” she scoffed.

He muttered something to himself, and when she asked him to repeat himself, what he said didn’t remotely resemble what his whisper sounded like. What he first said sounded more like, you have no idea. What he instead enunciated was—

“Can you blame me?” 

It was a phrase they’d exchanged several times, and a blatant attempt at finding familiar terrain between them. Something comfortable to step off of. She looked back at the other pictures of him, casting about for something, anything to delay the inevitable discomfort of this conversation.

“Osha,” he murmured.

She winced through her next words. “I talked with Mae. The way I think you wanted me to at the beginning.”

He set down his coffee and sat in his chair, dread drawing his easygoing expression into apprehension. “And what did she say?”

Osha recounted the terrible things she learned��Indara seeing them, Vernestra using it to blackmail Mae into digging into his personal life, Mae’s terrible question and his subsequent reaction, and the cascading events afterward. She left nothing out except for two things: Mae’s unsure call to action and the mention of that final line that seemed to make him snap.

This is the last round, Qimir.

As she spoke, he grew more quietly devastated. By the time she reached the end of her story, he was hunched over his coffee like he wanted to disappear. The quiet felt loud now, instead of comforting. He hardly moved, hardly breathed, breaths coming out small and shallow. He lifted his head at long last but didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were vacant and glazed, staring over her shoulder at something Osha couldn’t see.

“Is this you taking the fuck off option?” he asked, voice wrecked by emotions he normally kept reined in.

“No!” she cried. She stood from her seat to step closer to him. “I just… you deserved to know. It’s about you, so it’s…” She didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence.

“You don’t hate me for treating your sister so harshly?” he looked disgusted, though not with her. He was disgusted with himself.

Sometimes, someone faces that part of themselves that thrives in violence, and finds they can look themselves in the eye without a mountain of guilt crushing them for the sin of what they’ve done.

“Hate you?” she said, shaking her head. “What Mae did was wrong. She wronged you. Even if she didn’t know what she was saying. Your reactions are understandable if not justified. I wouldn’t… She… god, I’m so sorry for what she did.”

His expression softened a little, but his jaw remained tense. “It’s not your fault, Osha. And it’s not Mae’s fault, either. I was the one that chose to let my emotions rule me.”

“Hey.” She came around to park her hip against his desk, standing right beside him. “You were the one that told me emotions cannot be controlled or erased. I’m no doctor, but… from what it sounds like, she unintentionally triggered you into a severe traumatic episode. You don’t have to forgive her for it, but… you have to forgive yourself for feeling hurt.”

“You don’t understand, Osha.” He pushed his hands through his hair, knocking his hat off. Nervously, he set it in his lap while he rocked back in his chair. He gestured to the wall with all his accolades. “It’s not a matter of forgiving myself. There are codes of ethics I have to follow for my job. Each code would condemn what I’ve been doing for the last eleven months. It’s… it’s wrong, what I did. What I do.”

“You mean entering in the fights?”

A haunted look filled his face. “Not entering the fights. Walking into the cage, and the terrible things I’ve done to leave it. Done to others, done to myself… I broke promises I wanted nothing more to keep.”

Osha’s stomach sank. The last time he spoke to her about promises, it was to tell her that he’d only reserve his love for someone who could feel as deeply as he did—to protect himself from getting hurt again. “What do you mean?”

His expression was pained. He didn’t want to talk about this, but he had to. “I was in a bad place, when I aged out. I got mixed up with people that normally don’t let you leave once you’re in. I did a lot of fucked-up things to get out. The people who helped me… I can never pay them back.

“But the second I was out, I knew I never wanted to go back to that life—scaring people, stealing from others, fighting for money. I swore I’d never hurt another person if I didn’t have to. I swore I wouldn’t—” He cleared his throat, nervously flexing the bill of his cap between his palms. Flat, curve, flat, curve. “Those promises kept the peace in my soul for more than ten years. I was… good. For the first time.”

Osha’s heart broke at the smallness in his voice. I was good. For the first time.

He wiped a hand over his face, hat falling to the floor. “All of that was upset the second she—” he cut himself off, closing his eyes.

She finished for him. “When she asked if you remembered.”

He nodded tightly, then gave a bitter laugh. It was so different than the laugh he’d given before. She missed it. “The problem is, I don’t… I don’t remember all of it. That’s scared me for a long time. The concussions, the pain—there are a lot of significant memories that cut in and out when I try to remember them.”

“I know what that’s like.”

He looked mildly horrified. “What?”

“I just… sometimes, I have to watch videos of the fight—to remember that it happened.” To remember that it happened differently than the flashbacks. Lights. Crying. Mat. Nausea. Pain.

“You don’t want to forget?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms. “Forgetting, remembering. They’re different pains that make you wish you had the other.”

He wasn’t happy she used his own words on him, but he at least understood where she was coming from. She went on, giving him a break from laying himself bare to her.

“I figured that if I could objectively remember every second of what had happened to me, it would hurt less whenever someone brought it up. Like tensing your core before you take a hit, except you never let your guard down because someone could always strike out at you.” Saying it out loud felt a little damning, a little ridiculous. “I told Mae the other night how fucked up it was that she said that to you. That it was like reminding me of Bestine. Like I’d let my guard down to trust her, and that’s when she started going in, striking me with remember whens. She’s never had to carry anything like the trauma I carry, let alone anything like yours. She doesn’t know the burden of remembering, even as far back as—” She stopped. Too much. Don’t bleed on his wounds. “But I think she understands now.”

He reached out his hand, warm from being wrapped around his coffee. She uncrossed her arms to hold his hand in both of hers, tracing her thumb over the peaks and valleys of his knuckles. He took care of his hands, unlike her. She had scars from years of building and breaking her hands for sport. Fingers that didn’t set right, burst blood vessels between her knuckles, calluses—a hundred self-destructive things she had yet to confront, carried on her hands. Flipping it over, she traced the tip of her finger over his palm. Mount of Venus, heart line, fate line, life line. He let her move and manipulate him, at such odds with the immovable force he was in the cage. These hands were a testament to a life hard-won.

“I’m sorry all of this happened to you, stranger.” It bore repeating.

He curled his fingers to lace them with hers. They look good like that, Osha thought.

“Me too.”

She drew a deeper breath, looking around at the walls. He surrounded himself with the trappings of a respected man in a career he was passionate about. I was good. They were reminders. Precious milestones for every step he’d taken away from the life he’d been forced into. Something he said earlier itched at her mind.

“If someone filed an ethics violation or something… what would happen?”

“I’d lose everything.”

When you lose everything—and I did lose everything—that’s when you’re finally free. Free of exploitation, free of expectation.

This kind of loss wouldn’t be freedom. This kind of loss would be more like a death.

What do we do?

“And there’s nothing to get Vernestra off your back?”

He squeezed her hand. “When I was young and still made of nothing but anger, I did try to destroy the Temple. The things Mae said about me trying to break the website and speak to journalists were true.”

A strange moment passed, where he looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. The fear in them frightened her in turn. His mouth opened and shut, words bitten back repeatedly, until—“I was…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

Qimir squeezed his eyes shut, his head falling forward. He looked… defeated. Her hand moved as if possessed, coming to the back of his head so she could twine her fingers into his hair. He slumped into her form, pressing his head to her stomach and wrapping his arms around her legs. They held that embrace for longer than she could keep track. It could have gone on forever, for all she cared.

But eventually he did pull back, hands coming to bracket her thighs as he looked back up at her. He was no longer trepidatious, nor did his eyes shine with fear. And he did not finish what he was going to say before. Unease tickled the back of her mind.

“But all of that stuff was fifteen years ago. I can’t even imagine why Vernestra is still so caught on it.” Osha had turned it over in her mind relentlessly over the last twenty-four hours.

He leaned back, letting his hands fall off of her like rain clinging to glass. “I’m a…” he laughed, not in mirth but in irony. “I’m a loose end. She knows if I exposed what she did, it’d destroy her. It’d destroy the Temple, and probably take down another three dozen conspirators who sought to keep things hushed up.”

Conspirators? “Vernestra Rwoh holds grudges like lifelines,” she said, trying not to show her confusion.

“She sure does.” He took a breath. “To answer your question, I don’t know that there’s anything I can do. I certainly tried when I was younger, and it’s… not healthy to let myself think about returning to that mindset again.” His jaw flexed once before he turned a sad smile up at her.

Osha felt like she’d hit another wall. She’d expected Qimir to have some sort of agenda against Vernestra, especially after sending Mae to torment him about the past for eight months. She looked over at the wall again, at the degrees and the photographs and memories of all the times he’d done right. He wouldn’t risk his life any more than he already had, not for a chance to get even.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t do the same.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

[callmewrinkles3]

New Romantics - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: Having her friend turn up at her front door is unexpected, but it turns into Em getting to see her first two Formula One races in person, including seeing Dan win in Monaco. It’s what happens after that win that’s going to change her life.

World Count: 6.5k

Warnings: smut 18+ only! (PIV sex, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, fingering, handjobs, tattoos as a form of foreplay).

A/N: Monaco 2018 won the poll so we have delivered! Let us know what you think.

—

May 2018

If you asked Em why she kept texting Dan even though they rarely saw each other, she couldn’t fully tell you. He was sweet and their constant texts and memes were fun, and he was a good guy to hang out with. The whole wanting to sleep with him thing was a little awkward, but she decided to just keep her distance and be his friend. He was worth having a friendship with. But the one thing that didn’t change was how she acted with him. It didn’t matter to her what his job was or that he had a Wikipedia page and verified social media accounts. He was constantly busy but their texts kept flowing, calling him Dimples and sending photos of the coffee shops she worked from or songs she thought he’d like.

In return he sent the same, but from his side it was photos of racetracks and testing days to her. She grinned at him and his friend Max squinting into a sunny selfie in Barcelona, discovering the gangly teen was some kind of wonder kid. The only thing that had changed in their texting routine was that she had stopped trying to text when he was in the car. Instead her brand new Sky Sports subscription had the F1 channel on whenever he was driving. She’d learned how it all worked even though she’d never watched a race in her life. It was for Dan.

Even with their near daily phone conversations they didn’t get to see each other in person. She’d run into Blake in the hallway or on the stairs in his rare moments home and has an a chat, Blake telling her Dan said hi. Their friendship survived on FaceTime and texting and it was fine. Her heart didn’t flutter every time she saw his sleepy face on the phone screen. There was just no time between his schedule and travelling and her clients for them to be in the same city for more than a few hours.

Em hated it. She hated the fact that he was always away, just like she hated how she and Blake had gotten dinner twice since they met because of how he was working and it sucked. But it was worse with Dan, somehow. She watched races with rapt attention when he had the DNF in Bahrain, she’d been up at ridiculous times in the morning to see him win in China. She’d been on the couch watching when Max drove into him in Baku and she hated that she wasn’t there for her friend. Em stared at her phone, willing a direct flight to Baku to emerge, but there was nothing. By the time the connecting flights would get in he’d have to leave. It wasn’t fair.

Dan didn’t sound the same over texts and he didn’t want to FaceTime with her so Em knew there was something really wrong. The next few days he barely replied to her messages and by Friday night she was so worried.

Saturday morning she knew he was at least in the UK, and Em kept typing “do you want to get coffee?” over and over again, trying to convince herself to send it. But then there were three soft knocks on her front door. She nearly missed them but Em couldn’t mistake the curly hair she saw out of the peephole as she checked before opening the door. He was there with two bags in his hands, water running down his face from the rain outside. In one hand he had a bottle of red wine, the other a bag from the bakery he’d bought stuff from her before. That’s how she knew things were complicated.

She never expected Dan to come to talk to her about his work, she’d needed him to explain how so much of it worked time and time again. But here he was on the first Saturday in May, apologising that he hadn’t even texted to make sure she was home. They both felt out of place. Dan had shown up without even sending a text and Em felt like a disaster. It was a busy week, her apartment needed to be cleaned, and she was still in her pjs. He’d only ever seen her dressed up for something going on or at least with foundation on when they were on FaceTime. Instead she had a messy bun and an oversized t-shirt on with a pair of cycling shorts showing half of her thigh tattoo.

“I’m sorry, I should have called-“

“You’re fine, it’s good, come in. The place is a mess, ignore it. I’m gonna get changed.”

“Emmy, you’re fine. I’m the one who turned up at your door. Point me at your coffee, I’ll make some while you change?” 

It wasn’t much of a difference but she brushed out her hair and put a bra on, joggers and a hoodie making her feel semi human. By the time she was back Dan had two coffees on the coffee table, massaging his shin after hitting it. There was a slice of lemon drizzle cake beside her coffee, and a stack of papers in front of Dan.

“What’s going on? I’m really glad you’re here, I wanted to see you, but this doesn’t seem like you. What’s up?” She asked after small talk and Dan talking about how his win in China felt. And that’s when he opened up, taking her hand in his large, warm one and squeezing while he spoke.

Red Bull didn’t feel like somewhere he could stay anymore. His contract was nearly up, and he knew they were going to make Max the number one driver over him. He was better than being a number two, he’d put so much work into everything and getting it right. He didn’t want to give up. There were teams out there who wanted him. Ferrari had reached out to Blake about maybe wanting him.

“Not that Ferrari is gonna happen. Seb’s warned me about what it’s like there. But if Ferrari want me?”

“Let me get glasses.” It was noon, it was Saturday, it was socially acceptable to drink. She stood up and pulled two vaguely matching wine glasses from the cupboard, setting them down and opening the bottle of - of course Australian - red that Dan had brought with him. He raised an eyebrow.

“This conversation needs alcohol. You’re the one who brought the wine. What do you want to do?” She took a sip and frowned, Dan looking at her.

“I will find a wine you like. Don’t tell Mike about the cake, yeah?”

“What cake?”

“Exactly. What do you think I should do, Wrinkles?”

Em rolled the question around for a moment before she realised there was one thing she needed to know before she could help him.

“Why are you asking me?”

They were friends, yeah. Good friends who texted every day and FaceTimed and she congratulated him. She was the first person he called after he won in China, something she never expected. But she knew nothing about the ins and outs of Formula One. She didn’t know the way that world worked, and she didn’t know what Dan was potentially moving towards. He had to make the decisions for himself or he’d never forgive her. Em couldn’t think of a much worse fate than Dan blaming her for the demise of his career.

“You…this sounds shitty. I know it does. But Blake and Mike have a loyalty to my career, not just to me. To me making the most money and making things secure. And yeah, Red Bull can give me a load of money. But you don’t have that. You don’t treat me any differently because of my job. You don’t know the politics and the ins and outs of everything, and that means I can trust you on it. You know me, Emmy. And right now I need someone who will look at just me and believe in me to give me advice, not someone who gets the big picture.” He squeezed the hand he was still holding as he spoke, Em squeezing back just as hard.

“Ok. What do you want to do?”

“Christian expects—“

“No, Dan. What do you want to do?”

“Huh?” His brow furrowed in confusion, making Em smile.

“What do you want to do? Not what I want to do, not Christian or Blake or Michael. What do you want to do? You’re the one who will be in that car. Will you be happy as a number two at Red Bull? Or do you want to see what else is out there?” She was sincere as she spoke, Dan’s eyes brightening as he listened to what she was saying.

“Will you still be there? If I change teams and make the wrong decisions and fuck it up, will you still be there?”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re one of my best friends already, Dimples.”

He squeezed her hand to pull her into a hug on the couch. Em melted into Dan’s arms, holding him tightly and feeling the strength holding her to him.

“Come to a couple of races? Everyone comes to Monaco anyway, you need to be there. But come to Barcelona too. It’ll be fun, and you can see exactly what my job involves. I’d love to show you around the place.”

“I can’t just-“

“Please, Wrinkles? I think you‘ll have fun. I’ll make sure you have space in the garage to watch the races.

She couldn’t argue with Dan, nodding and agreeing. Barcelona was a dream. Blake met her at the airport with a hug, laughing as she got off the flight with her carry on and nothing else.

“I got you a Red Bull hat. Figured you’d need to wear something team gear wise.”

“Fair, fair.” She had the hat on the entire time she was in the paddock, her pass firmly around her neck. Dan introduced her to his coworkers, the mechanics and everyone who was on his side of the garage. He also introduced her to the other driver, Max, barely in his twenties and looking so young even to Em.

“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and he grinned, looking even younger.

“You too. I gotta go.”

It was nods to the bosses who were there, Em trying to stay out of the way as she put a set of headphones on and listened. Watching Dan cross the finish line was exhilarating, especially in fifth place.

“Next podium is for you, Wrinkles,” he said the next morning as she got ready to fly back to London.

“Get it for yourself, Dan.”

“I have enough. This one will be for you.”

She’d planned on working out flights and staying in Nice to save money, but Dan rejected that straight away. He’d invited her, he was paying. Em didn’t know how to say know to him really. She’d try but his eyes would light up and he’d smile widely and she was a goner when he did something like that. Instead she nodded and agreed with him. Blake appeared at her front door with the envelope containing her flight and hotel details. He didn’t know how close she and Dan had become, how much time they spent talking at ridiculous hours of the day and night.

“Dan said you’re coming to Monaco too?” He was almost surprised and Em nodded.

“Yeah. He told me all his friends come to Monaco, he wants me to be there too.” Calling each other friends felt stupid but it was mostly accurate. Mostly. Not that Em hadn’t stared at the way his undershirt had clung after the race, sweat soaked but looking so good.

“I’m glad! It’ll be nice to have you there, it was fun in Barcelona. I think this year it’s just his parents coming over. He deserves having support at a race.”

It was a full week in Monaco, flying out on the Wednesday before the race and staying for a few days after. Dan had promised to bring her across the border into Italy so they could get really good pasta and she was a sucker for that opportunity. Her clients knew that she was going away and once her out of office was on it was time to go. She couldn’t wait. Dan met her at the airport and they waited for his parents to arrive as well. He made sure she was comfortable with everything going on, Em pulled into a hug from his parents and introducing herself as “I’m Dan’s friend. I live beside Blake in London.”

Her paddock pass hung around her neck as she was there every single day for media and practices, watching the well oiled Red Bull machine get the two identical cars ready to go out. The one thing she didn’t expect was for the flirting that she and Dan usually did over FaceTime to get even more explicit in person. He kept a hand on her waist in hospitality when they were alone, keeping his hand there when he introduced her to his team principal and his wife - and laughing at how Em forced herself to stay calm while being introduced to a fucking Spice Girl.

“You should have warned me!” Em whispered harshly when they were apart, looking at Dan’s grin.

“I drove the car at their wedding, she’s just Geri. I’m assuming that was a big deal?”

“I cried when she left that band. Sobbed, Daniel.”

Whenever they were beside each other for meals his hand was on her thigh or her back, watching as she had conversations with his friends. Scotty was a snowboarder dating another driver’s sister, so he spent part of the week with Dan and part of it with his girlfriend. Every night she had dinner with the group, hanging out with them and talking about what was happening. Joe gave her a crash course in what the Monaco Grand Prix meant and how Dan should have won two years before but had lost thanks to a bad pit stop.

“So if you’re not on pole you’re probably not going to win?” She asked, Joe nodding seriously.

“You can but it’s hard. There’s not a lot of overtaking space.”

She stood in the garage as the qualifying took place, watching the screens as Dan drove his car like a madman. He slipped into pole position after topping all three practices and Em wrapped him in a hug. She could feel the pride bursting out of her chest, watching as everyone else hugged and congratulated him.

“Told you, I’m winning this race for you tomorrow,” Dan murmured as she grabbed her bag to head back to the hotel.

“Dimples…”

“Seriously. When I’m on that podium I’m gonna tap my chest three times. When you see that you know it’s because I did it for you. Understand?”

“Do it for you.”

“I won China for me. This is for you.”

Em hugged him farewell before saying goodbye to everyone else, wandering the narrow streets back to her hotel. Everywhere she looked there were beautiful women, models wearing short skirts and fancy clothes while she was there in her Primark best. She felt so out of place, even in the paddock when she had her pass. Seeing the kind of girls Dan could go home with should have smothered her crush. Why would he choose her?

But then he did.

She was sandwiched between Blake and Grace for the entire race, holding Grace’s hand the whole time as the three of them and Joe stared at the screens. She watched as Vettel kept coming closer but Dan held him off, the radio she listened to clear that Dan’s car wasn’t driving how it should have been. He shouldn’t have held anyone off. But then she was getting pulled across the pit lane and to the wall by Michael, grabbing the metal railing and climbing to wave Dan in with everyone else. He’d fucking won. He did it.

The rest of the evening until the party was a blur to Em. She cried hearing the Australian anthem ring out over the podium, Grace and Joe holding onto her as Dan thumped his chest three times and grinned at her. He made the other drivers drink from his shoe and she groaned at the sight before he was back down with them, making sure she was coming to the party that night.

She could have blamed everything on the emotion of the win when it started that night. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t even mostly that. He’d been complimenting her and smiling at her most of the week, giving her the biggest hug in his champagne covered race suit as he lifted her up with his arms around her waist. She murmured how proud she was of him and he squeezed tighter. The grin he gave her from the swimming pool on the yacht as she snapped photos of his team in it with him because to quote the commentator, this was his redemption day. She got to watch him do it, but it was all him.

They made it to the party in a packed club, shots handed to each of them quickly. One of Max’s mechanics started trying to flirt with her but Dan saved her from that mess and pulled her onto the dance floor. At the start it was like the second night they’d met in January, friends dancing together. But drinks were flowing and she was pretty sure that Michael shot champagne into her mouth from a water gun at one point. The crowd made her move closer to Dan, and closer again. His hands went from high on her waist to further down, fingers clasping her hips. 

She could feel how he brushed down slightly, right on the tops of her thighs and her body began to come alive. He moved so slowly, not letting his hands rest where Em knew he wanted them to until her fingers caught the curls on the nape of his neck. As soon as she dragged her nails lightly against his skin Dan moved his large hands, cupping her ass with them and pulling her against him in the dark corner they’d moved to.

Em stared into his eyes, tipsy but sober enough to know exactly what was happening and what she wanted and she could tell Dan was the same. All she wanted was to feel how his hands were against her without fabric in the way, how he’d touch her in bed. It wouldn’t take long to find out.

“Can I kiss you?” It was nearly sweet the way he asked, pushing a kiss below her ear to show his intent. She was so lucky the music was blaring, drowning out the moan she let out at his kiss for everyone except Dan. His eyes darkened as he looked at her while Em nodded frantically and pulled his head to hers to kiss him deeply. The moment he stopped he pulled her closer so he could get a better grip, continuing to make out with her. Once they were hidden away they didn’t need anymore words.

Everyone else in the club was too drunk to notice what was going on. She shouldn’t have expected anything else from a party with a free bar in Monaco, where trays of shots were passed around the room as if it was water. Em was so grateful for it because nobody was watching as the man of the hour hid in a dark corner and pulled her ever closer to him, hands tugging on her hair as he kissed her deeply. She didn’t want Dan’s coworkers commenting or Blake and their friends watching what was happening, that she was in Dan’s arms so quickly. But all of her doubts disappeared as his lips touched hers and she felt the way he wanted her. Every single touch lit her body on fire, his hands roaming her body keeping her close. She had never been the girl to ask someone to go home with her, never really even been the girl who went home with anyone. The moment she felt a bulge against her she pulled Dan even closer and forced herself even higher on her tiptoes in her heels.

“I want you, Dan. Can we get out of here?”

The decision about where to go was easy. Blake, Michael, and his parents were all staying in Dan’s apartment, her hotel room was just her. She had no intention of explaining why she was in the same clothes as the night before to them in the morning. Instead they half walked and half danced down the street to her hotel, Dan holding her hand and twirling her. Nobody paid attention to them except as drunk tourists, and Em wanted to scream “HE JUST WON THE MONACO GRAND PRIX WITH A BROKEN CAR” to the world.

It didn’t feel quite real that he was there with her. The most handsome man she’d ever seen had his arm around her, had asked her permission to kiss her, had nearly begged her when she asked if he wanted to leave the party with her. She was a normal person, his world was sparkly and shiny but he was there with her. Once they reached her room Dan gave her space to get the key out and open the door, but as soon as it was open he took control.

Any other night she would have been on her knees as soon as they were in private. She hadn’t stopped thinking about how good he smelled even when he was so sweaty, the way she wanted to lick up the side of his neck and taste all of him. But instead he had her half pinned against the wall, carefully undoing her dress zipper so he could pull it down. Her fingers got his shirt and jeans off, leaving Em in her underwear and heels as Dan kicked off his shoes. She felt nearly self conscious as he looked her up and down, eyes darkening with lust before he ran open mouthed kisses from one collarbone to the other via her breastbone, fingers lightly pinching at her nipples to make her moan for him.

“God you’re so pretty for me, Baby Girl,” he murmured. Em reached to pull him closer, arousal spinning through her. 

“Dan, please. Please.” They twisted around so Dan could back her onto the bed, raising her legs and looking at her with hungry eyes.

“So pretty. Can I taste you?” Em didn’t trust herself to speak, nodding frantically. Dan knew exactly what she was offering, slipping calloused fingers around her thighs to spread them wide, taking in the damp spot showing on her underwear. He slid them slowly down her legs, heels dumped somewhere in the room before his fingers finally moved in and and touched her. And then Em was lost in sensations. She couldn’t tell what was going on, Dan’s fingers entering her as his tongue lapped against her clit, alternating flat and pinpoint strokes while she groaned against him. It never felt like this before.

He took a break and pushed kisses to her thighs, tongue tracing the outline of her tattoo. Em propping herself up on her elbows to see Dan’s flushed face. His beard was damp with wetness and she blushed.

“I’m ready, you don’t need to keep doing that.” It was like the atmosphere changed for a moment, Dan’s expression clouding before clearing.

“But you didn’t cum yet.”

“It doesn’t always happen. I’m having fun.”

“Oh Baby girl, no. Not happening. Plus, I won today. My prize is to get to taste just how good you are. I’ve been thinking about getting to lick this tattoo since that day in your apartment.” He didn’t give Em a warning before diving back in, determined to make her see stars.

The orgasm was quick and unexpected when it happened, that knot in her belly releasing as she chanted Dan’s name. Her hand pulled on his dark curls as he didn’t let up, keeping her pushed against him. Finally when she was slightly back to Earth she looked down at Dan between her thighs, self satisfaction on his face.

“Good?”

“You know it was. I want to return the favour.”

“It wasn’t a favour, Emmy. Plus, if I see you on your knees in front of me this is going to be over embarrassingly quick.” Dan leaned up to kiss her, pulling himself up to settle his hips between her thighs. She could taste herself on his lips, but more importantly it was Dan and he was right there with her.

“Are you sure?” He sounded uncertain and Em cupped his cheek, pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

“Please fuck me, Danny. I want to feel all of you.” He didn’t need any more encouragement to move, lining up and sliding oh so slowly into Em. She was wetter than she’d ever been, her body taking Dan easily. He kissed her deeply as he bottomed out, holding her so tightly she thought for a moment she might bruise.

“So good. You’re such a good girl for me, Baby, so perfect,” he moaned, Em letting out a whimper at the praise. “Did you like that?”

She nodded, unable to find the words.

“So perfect for me, Emmy, you feel so good. I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted to kiss you and take you home and wonder if you taste as good as I think you do. So pretty and perfect for me.” He began to move, fingers flicking against Em’s clit and all she could do was hold onto his shoulders as he thrust into her.

“More, Dan, please, keep going.” She’d never had more than one orgasm in a night before but she could feel the second one rising through her body. His lips left open mouthed kisses along her collarbones and chest as his fingers brought her closer.

“Gonna make you cum for me. So perfect on my dick like this. You feel so fucking good, Em. So good.” His words and his thrusts and his movements pushed her over the edge, a wordless cry between her lips as she came. Dan’s groan followed, sweaty curls collapsing into her shoulder as he found his orgasm.

He slipped out of her and the sudden fear of “did I just ruin my friendship” ran through Em. What was she supposed to do? But instead of freaking out Dan rolled over onto his back, an arm hooking around her waist and pulling her over to him, out of the wet patch to a dry place on the bed.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He whispered, brown eyes looking right through Em.

“Yeah.” He pushed a kiss to her forehead and tightened his arm around her, Em getting comfy with her head on his chest, one of her arms across his body to hold him tight as they dozed to sleep together. The one thing running through her mind was that the man everyone would want, the man who’d accepted a trophy from royalty just hours before, was in her bed and had been the most generous lover she’d ever had in her life.

She definitely hadn’t slept enough when Dan woke her up, fingers trailing over her ass and up her back and down again on the other side so she’d shiver. There were quiet kisses against her forehead until she moved, looking up at Dan grinning.

“Hi.” The simplicity of the statement made her giggle, Dan following as he kept a hold of her.

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” It was supposed to be an innocent question as she smiled, Dan stopping moving for a moment.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go for round two? At least?” He had his charm turned up to eleven, but the question had to be asked.

“What are we doing, Dan?”

“Hopefully getting at least another couple of orgasms?” He tried joking, but Em’s face made him stop. “We can pretend this didn’t happen and I can leave. Or we can hang out while you’re in Monaco, be friends with benefits? You’re a good friend, Emmy. This is just a bonus that we can chalk up to being drunk last night.”

She was going to hell for this. But he was warm and comfortable and she still felt so good thanks to how he’d made her cum before they’d fallen asleep. But somehow, for some magical reason, Daniel Ricciardo wanted her. He wanted her and she was going to take full advantage for as long as she could. The man who could have anyone he wanted wanted her.

“We have till Wednesday. Let’s take advantage of it.” It was a timeline. A stop for them. But if he made her feel like that again it’d be so worth it.

“Sounds perfect.”

Em reached up to kiss him, her hand roaming down to feel his morning wood harden even more in her hand, thumb rubbing circles over the head with his precum.

“Fuck, Em. Fuck yes.” Dan was groaning against her chest, Em moving down the bed. She looked up through her eyelashes to see him stare at her in wonder as she placed open mouthed kisses up his length before licking a stripe along the visible vein. As Dan gasped she smiled before opening her mouth to swallow down as much as she could. Dan’s hands were in her hair but he wasn’t pushing her, careful to let Em take him at her own pace. Her hand was around what she couldn’t swallow easily, jacking him in time to her movements.

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I’m so fucking close, I can’t—“ Em swallowed as far down as she could, gagging slightly on Dan as he came with a shout, salty liquid spurting down her throat. She stayed like that until she was sure he was done, pulling off him with a smile. Dan wiped the involuntary tears from her eyes, pulling her up to him.

“You are amazing, you know that?” He reached for a kiss and Em tried to dodge it, but he pulled her tight. Nobody had ever wanted to kiss her after she’d gone down on them, not even her ex. But here was Dan, fingers already exploring while he caught a thigh between her legs.

“Coming from Mr Monaco?” She asked, watching as the memory of the day before hit him.

“I won fucking Monaco for you!”

“For you.”

“You’re just gonna keep arguing with me aren’t you?”

“Always.”

He cut off what was going to be her next argument with a kiss, pulling them both sitting up and settling Em on his thigh. Her clit hit off one of the muscular ridges that was covered with his boat tattoo, making her gasp.

“I want to watch you cum like this, Baby. Grinding down on my thigh like the desperate girl you are. You’re gonna look so pretty just like this.” She gasped, Dan’s hands on her hips making her move and the friction was so perfect. He was right there bouncing slightly, Em’s head thrown back while his mouth moved from nipple to nipple to keep them pert and tight.

“Daaaaan. Ugh so good.” The sensations were overwhelming, but her movements were cut off with Dan’s phone ringing.

“Stay quiet, Baby. Keep going and once this is over you can cum your pretty brains out.”

She leaned her head against his chest, hips searching for that friction she needed as he answered.

“Yeah…Mate, yeah I know we’re all getting brunch. I’ve got time…None of your business where I ended up. I’m safe and everything is good. Yeah. I’ll be at the apartment in a little while, I know you’re all leaving later. Em’s staying till Wednesday though, gonna show her Monaco cause she hasn’t been here before. Cool. See you in a while.” The phone was thrown across the bed and Dan’s fingers went straight to Em’s fluttering clit, her pussy clenching around nothing as her orgasm was so close.

“So good for me Baby. So so good. So proud of you for staying quiet. Gonna cum for me like this?” She followed her orgasm, desperation in every pore as Dan’s skilled fingers brought her to completion. She knew he was staring as she threw her head back but she couldn’t care. Dan was all around her, and desperation made her so happy to keep going.

She slumped against him, Dan holding her up and pushing kisses to her forehead. Neither of them wanted to move but the phone call meant they both had to. Unfortunately.

“I need to ask something kind of awkward,” Dan began, Em looking at him as she regained feeling to her body after the last orgasm. “We…I forgot about a condom last night. Do we need to do something about birth control?”

“We’re good.” She saw his brow furrow and smiled, pressing a kiss to the creases between his eyebrows. “I’m on the pill, Dan. Have been for years. My alarm will go off any minute. We’re probably better using a condom next time too, but we’re good.”

“Thank God. I didn’t think, I’m sorry. And I get tested regularly you don’t need to worry.”

“It’s been a while since I had sex so I’m good. We’re all good?”

“Yeah. And now we have to go have brunch with everyone. Mum and Dad are flying home tonight, and Blake and Mike are heading back to London. It’ll be just us from this evening?”

“Sounds fun.”

She just about managed to get dressed, Dan trying to seduce her back to bed but Em insisted they needed to at least pretend to be normal. She wasn’t going to be the one everyone was waiting on. It was separate cabs to Dan’s, arriving at the same time and going up in the elevator. Once she was in everyone pulled her into a hug, Em returning them.

It was the six of them for brunch with multiple people stopping by their table to congratulate Dan and introduce themselves. One of them, Cyril, shook his hand and Em got the feeling she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been watching. But Dan was sitting beside her, his shoe running up the back of her calf. The brunch place was fancy, mimosas for everyone except the two extremely hungover men at the table, Blake pointing his fork at Em.

“Why are you not totally hungover? I definitely saw Mike shooting champagne at you from those stupid water guns.” He was wearing sunglasses inside and Em wanted to laugh.

“I left early.”

“Oh?” The implication was clear in his voice.

“Not like that! It was crowded, I’m not a fan of super busy places. I’d rather chill out and go back to my hotel room.”

“Fair.” It was quiet until Grace spoke.

“Did you enjoy the race?”

“I did!” She had a real smile on her face thinking about the week she’d had. “I’ve only started watching since Dan and I became friends, but it was a lot of fun. I’m going to Silverstone too, so it’ll be fun to see another one.”

“You need to come to Melbourne next year. Albert Park is great in the sun, and it’d be good to spend more time with you.” It wasn’t a request, more a confirmation she would.

“Yeah, you’ll come. Once the dates are announced put it in for work, you can take the time. Have you ever been to Australia?” Blake asked, Em shaking her head.

“I’m a freelancer, that’s not an issue. But I’ve never been. Considering I spend too much of my time talking to ye I feel like it’s something that will be fixed sooner rather than later.”

The rest of the meal was idle chit chat, talking about anything and nothing. Dan kept playing footsie with her, his hand on her back running fingers up her spine when he could get away with it. They spent the day relaxing with everyone before all going out to the airport together.

It was hugs and a promise to knock on Blake’s door when she got home on Wednesday, and an invitation from Grace and Joe to visit Perth anytime. She and Dan waved them all through security before going back to his car, getting in and Dan running his fingers up Em’s thigh.

“So I was thinking we go back to your hotel room, get your stuff, and check you out? Stay with me until you go back?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

It was simple to go back with Dan, watching as he drove through the narrow streets. The streets that he was now king of, because he’d won Monaco and Em couldn’t help but laugh at it.

The next two days were filled with laughter and joking and orgasms. Tuesday Em had awoken to Dan eating her out, an orgasm before she was even fully conscious. From that they got on his Vespa and he drove them to Italy. He explained how he’d lived in Northern Italy when he first moved to Europe as a scared teen, and he’d built a knack for knowing where a good hole in the wall with the best pasta was. And it was true, they ate plates of good food and laughed while eating, Dan paying the bill and talking to the Nonna who ran it in halting Italian.

“Hidden skills, Dimples,” Emma joked, Dan smiling.

“My Nonnas and Nonnos are all from Italy, I had to learn. Plus moving here it really helped.”

“Maybe you can teach me a little?”

That night Dan wouldn’t let her cum until she got out the entire translation of “where is the best pasta”.

Wednesday was weird for both of them. They’d been in their flirty bubble, joking and fucking, but she was leaving. Her little bag was packed, ready to go. Dan dropped her to the airport in Nice, and she couldn’t read his expression. Had she just ruined one of her best ever friendships?

“Text me when you land, yeah?” He asked, arms around Em in a final goodbye.

“I will. And tell me when you find the next song you think I’ll love but I actually hate please?”

“You love my music taste!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you soon Dimples.”

“See you at Silverstone if not before, Wrinkles.” Em went through security, sitting waiting for her flight back to London and already missing their little Monaco bubble. Once she landed she texted Dan, getting a little k back in response. The nerves continued to grow with his lack of texts over the next day or two. But it’d be fine. He was going to Canada, the time difference didn’t really help. That’s what Em told herself as the near hourly texts moved to almost daily, but it didn’t help that wonder. Had she ruined a really good friendship for three days of excellent sex?

--

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[tjalexandernyc]

Not sure why so many people are getting nostalgic over Claire's at the moment but if you'd like to hear my personal Claire's ear piercing story here it is.

I'm 40 years old so I grew up in peak '90s mall culture. Claire's was a standard stop on any mall visit along with The Rave, Auntie Anne's, and the sketchy arcade. Despite the ubiquity of Claire's and its cheap ear piercing, I never got my ears pierced until I was... probably 15 or maybe 14. I don't know how I escaped it for so long; most of my girl friends had their ears pierced either as an infant or at least before they were tweens. I suspect it was a combination of me being a little nonbinary baby who didn't want to wear earrings in both ears but couldn't articulate why, so I never asked for them; the fact that my mom was thrifty and never offered; and my grandmother's penchant for clip-on earrings, since she'd also never gotten her ears pierced. I think when she was growing up in the 1920s it was seen as slutty? Anyway IF I was required to wear earrings for a fancy occasion there were plenty of grandma's sitting around the place.

But when I was 14 or 15, I was at the mall with my father. I don't remember why we were at the mall together. We rarely did anything together, and even now are not especially close. I vaguely remember my childhood best friend being there too. We must have been waiting for someone or something (maybe a movie at the attached theater?) and had some time to kill.

I think my dad must have offered to buy us some earrings we were examining at one of the kiosks, because I remember having to explain to him that I didn't have pierced ears. My dad famously misremembered things about me, like thinking I'd had braces when it was my older brother, not me, who needed them. He was shocked. He must have assumed I'd gotten them pierced at some point, but I told him no, it never happened. He offered to pay for the piercing at Claire's right then and there.

I don't know if I can explain how it felt, that offer. I was largely ambivalent about piercings. I knew, as most '90s kids did, that there was a Gay Ear that some guys wore earrings in, but no one seemed to agree which one it was. I have a visceral memory, down to knowing exactly which seat I was in, when a kid in the elementary school lunchroom got a cheap clip on pirate earring stuck on his earlobe and was mercilessly taunted for it being on the Gay Ear. I both wanted piercings so I could figure out which of my ears, if any, were gay. I simultaneously didn't want anyone putting holes in me. I craved visibility and invisibility in equal measure. I wanted to do something with my dad, since we never did things together. I didn't want to spend my own money on ear piercing, which my father spoke of like some inevitable event. I wanted to talk to my best friend about all this alone even though I knew she would not understand.

I ended up getting my ears pierced at Claire's that day. The 18 year old cashier who was manning the piercing gun made one puncture slightly off center compared to the other. I picked out a pair of cubic zirconia studs, which I thought weren't as girly as the others. After the piercings healed I started wearing earrings pretty much every day and amassed a huge collection of them. I did that up until I came out a few years ago.

I don't wear earrings often anymore but when I do it's usually just one dangly transguy-esque piece or a single hoop. I put it in the same ear that the kid in the lunchroom did. I haven't thought about my father in relation to my piercings for a very long time, until recently, when the Claire's memes reminded me. I think there's probably a lot of pop psychology mud to dig through there if someone cared to. I don't.

My father and I talk a couple times a year now, usually brokered by my mom. He has pierced ears, by the way, three in each ear. I don't remember when that happened. I'd like to think it was around the time my parents got divorced. I'd like to think it was circa 1997. I'd like to think it happened the way I know it didn't, in a way that even our combined shit memories couldn't conjure: that we both got gunned at the Claire's at the mall, ears red and puffy, before getting a cinnamon sugar pretzel to split. It didn't happen that way, but god I wish it had.