#new girl x inheritance games

[cherryschaos]

Avery to Jameson at some point: Don't panic moonwalk away from me

Jameson:

[gamingspyders]

The Hollowed Eve Stage 2 Chapters 1 & 2 ! Sniper Fury Gameplay

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

A fake soccer date

Summary: Joel asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get the soccer moms off his back. How convenient that you're both kind of in love with each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: no outbreak, friends to lovers, FAKE DATING, mentions of dead spouse, a little angst, soccer moms (ugh), fluff, making out, smut (protected sex), dirty talk, a lot of kissing, Joel being in love, banner just for the vibes

Part of Fake Dating drabbles

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

You understood his weekly dread of going to Sarah’s soccer matches now. 

It wasn’t the soccer or the getting up at 6 am to drive to some god awful town hours away to watch a bunch of teenage girls play ball. 

It was the soccer moms.

And Joel was the only single Dad of the group. There was flirting. There were definitely not occasion appropriate attire and cleavage. There was touching. 

And that was only what you saw as you watched him in the middle of at least six women who were fussing over him like he was the only men left alive while you made your way towards the field from the parking lot. 

He had asked you before if you would accompany him to one of Sarah’s games. 

You had been neighbours since before Sarah was born. He had inherited the fixer upper next door when he just turned twenty and made the most out of it. You had seen his life fall apart within months from the moment he found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant not long after. They had tried to get back together again. 

It was you and your late husband Andrew who had been there for him once Sarah was born and his ex had left him alone. You probably spent more times in Joel’s house than your own in those first weeks, all of you being new to taking care of a new born. 

But Sarah made it easy. 

Andrew, Joel and you grew close in the coming years. 

So close that Joel was the first one you called when you were sitting in a hospital in the early morning hours after an accident on your way back from your summer vacation. 

An accident Andrew did not survive. 

He showed up an hour later with a sleeping Sarah in his arms, holding you all night as you cried into his shoulder. 

The time after that was blurry. But you knew Joel was there every single step through your grief, right beside you. 

He was your best friend. 

And as best friends it was okay to ask you to pretend to be dating him to get the soccer moms off his back, right?

It’s not like he knew that you kind of fell in love with him over the last year, right?

With a nervous inhale you put a smile on your face as you approached Joel from behind, his broad back standing out to you in between the moms who had only eyes for him. You put one of your arms around him as you sneaked to his side, feeling him stiffen for a moment as you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He smiled down at you, instantly relaxing, his arm coming around you to pull you closer against his side. 

„Hi,“ he smiled warmly and you smiled back. 

„Sorry I’m late. The line was endless,“ you lied and he chuckled. You felt his hand rest on your hip, squeezing you lightly. 

„Glad you could make it. Sarah is gonna be excited to see you,“ he said. Like you had not seen her yesterday when you had dinner together at your house. 

He kissed your temple and you closed your eyes for a moment before you turned your head too look at the people standing around you. The women were glaring at you and didn’t even attempt to hide it. 

„If you'll excuse me ladies. We got a match to watch,“ Joel said, not waiting for an answer before he pulled you towards the field, not letting go of you. 

„I can practically feel them trying to kill me with their eyes,“ you mumbled and he huffed a laugh. 

„I told you. I didn’t even do anything. They just appear out of thin air once I get here,“ he groaned and you rolled your eyes. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d pretend to not now the looks he received from women around him. 

Joel Miller was a catch and everyone knew it. 

You came to stand at the fence separating the field and the audience, watching as the girls warmed up on the soccer field. Sarah saw you and waved wildly and you waved back with a bright smile. You felt Joel stand behind you, before his hands came down next to yours on the fence.

„Thank you for doing this,“ he hummed against your ear as he leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder for a moment. You took a deep breath. 

„Anything for you,“ you mumbled, gasping when he fell into you against the fence, someone having pushed him. You heard him groan lowly against your ear, his body flush against yours. He took a step back immediately, turning to his side but you were pretty sure you had felt his hard bulge press into your ass for a second.

You turned your head to look at him, finding his cheeks a little flushed as he looked everywhere but at you. But before you could say anything the kids coach cheered the girls on and they got into position for the game to start.

And a couple minutes later Joel was standing behind you again, and you were leaning against his strong chest, one of his arms around your stomach as you watched his daughter play soccer on the field in front of you. 

„Are we…. Are we still pretending to be dating?“ You mumbled against his lips, your fingers unbuttoning his flannel. 

Things had…. Escalated a little. 

One of his hands was on the side of your neck, tilting your head up as his lips moved against yours, your body pressed against the wall next to his bedroom, his body caging you in. 

„Do you want to be pretending?“ He asked, his lips kissing down your throat as his other hand came to squeeze one of your tits over your shirt. 

„Cause I haven’t been all day,“ he mumbled and you gasped. 

You were both still fully clothed, having spent the whole day together on the soccer field, pretending to be dating. 

It was pretend when he held your hand while you grabbed food. 

It was pretend when he pulled you on his lap when there wasn’t enough place to sit. 

It was pretend when you went up and kissed him when one of the soccer moms had her hands on his chest. 

Right?

„Joel….“ You hummed letting you head fall against the wall as his hand slipped under your shirt and towards your chest. You finally had his flannel open your fingernails scratching over the shirt he was wearing underneath. 

„I… I don’t want to pretend. I… I want you. I want you all the time,“ you confessed, your eyes closed as he sucked on the soft skin on your neck. 

He looked at you then a small smile on his flushed lips. 

„Good,“ he simply said, before he kissed you again and pulled you towards his bedroom. 

He undressed you slowly, kissing a path from your lips down to your hips before he told you to lay down. 

With your arms spread out on his mattress you looked up at him as he got out of his clothes, biting your lip when you saw his thick cock, already glistening at the tip. 

„Dreamed of this,“ he said as he joined you on the bed, crawling on top of you, kissing you softly as he laid down between your spread legs. 

You nipples hardened as his chest brushed against yours, the only thought in your head being that you wanted him closer. Always closer.

„Yeah?“ You asked with a small smile, your fingers brushing over his back. He nodded. 

„Me too. Dreamed of this for months,“ you confessed and he kissed you again.

„Months?“ He asked kissing your nose.

„Mhh… Think I knew when you fixed my bathroom sink and explained every little step you were doing. Thought back then that I’d listen to everything you’d explain to me as long as you wouldn’t leave,“ you said quietly, a little shy. 

You parted your lips when you felt his cock slip though your folds. 

„When you held Sarah after she fell from her bike last year. I watched you with my daughter in your arms and thought to myself, fuck I’m in love with her,“ he said and you felt a tear slip out of your eyes. 

You tilted your chin up to find his lips in a deep kiss before you brought one hand down and between your bodies, hearing him moan when your fingers wrapped around his stiff cock. 

„Wanna taste you first,“ he mumbled against your lips. 

You shook your head. 

„Plenty of time for that after. Wanna feel you please,“ you pumped his cock and he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. 

„Fuck. Fuck okay. Condom?“ He asked and you grinned. 

„You got some? I’m on birth control and I trust you,“ you said. He looked at you for a moment before he shook his head. 

„The last time I didn’t use a condom with someone who was on birthcontrol I got Sarah,“ he chuckled before he pushed off of you and reached towards his bedside table, finding a little golden foil package, ripping it open and pulling it over his cock. 

He came back to kneel between your legs, one of his hands wrapped around his cock while he reached for a pillow and with a grin. 

You grinned back, arching your back as he pushed the pillow under you and under your ass before both of his hands pulled you towards him. You crossed your legs behind his ass, pulling him closer as he leaned down, lining his cock up with your pussy. 

„No more pretending,“ he whispered and you shook your head. 

„No more pretending,“ you repeated before you kissed him as he slowly pushed inside of you. 

Your lips parted against his as he slipped inside you, both of you breathing heavily, a quiet moan coming from you as he stretched you. 

You hadn’t been with anyone since your husband died and Joel wasn’t exactly small. 

"You okay?“ He asked, slowing down. 

You just nodded, before you kissed him again, finding yourself enjoying the stretch of his cock as it pushed slowly inside of you. 

„Keep going, feels so fucking good,“ you mumbled against his lips and you felt him smile as he moved, his cock moving inside of you until his whole length was filling you, both of you releasing a loud breath. 

„Should have done this sooner,“ he said as he pulled back and began to slowly fuck into you. You had one hand in his hair, the other on his ass, feeling him as he moved inside of you, his cock filling you perfectly with every thrust. 

„Yeah,“ you moaned, closing your eyes. 

„Keep your eyes open,“ he hummed and you did, finding him looking at you. 

„I wanna see you when you cum on my cock,“ he said and your walls clenched, making him smirk.

„You liked that, huh?“ He asked and you nodded slowly. 

„Keep going,“ you whimpered. 

„You know what I think of when I jerk myself off in the shower? I imagine the way you look when you cum. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum so hard you see stars. I wonder how you taste. I wonder if you like it hard or slow. I wonder if you wear these pretty lace panties I saw hanging in your bathroom that one time whenever you’re around me,“ he continued and you whimpered his name. 

„I wonder if you would let me fuck you at the dining table when we have dinner together. Or if you’d suck me off in the garage when we have a couple minutes to ourselves. Or on the couch after we watched a movie. I wonder if I can make you scream my name so everyone knows that you’re mine,“ he said before he kissed you and changed the angle of how he was fucking you, his cock hitting a spot inside of you that had you shaking. 

„I’m gonna take you to the lake house this weekend so I can have you screaming as loudly as you want to,“ he said and you nodded biting your lip to keep quiet, still mindful of the child sleeping down the hall. 

„Cum for me baby, let me feel you,“ he said as he crashed his lips down on yours and you shattered, coming harder than you had ever before, your legs shaking as he kept pumping his cock into you in quick deep thrusts. 

„Fuuuuuck,“ you cried quietly against his lips, feeling his lips twitch into a smile. 

„Beautiful,“ he hummed before his hips stuttered his cock pulsing inside of you as he slowly continued to fuck into you, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he orgasmed. 

Both sweaty and out of breath you just looked at each other before he kissed you and slowly rolled you to the side, pulling you against his chest, his cock softening and still resting inside of you. 

Kissing his chest you nuzzled against him, feeling his arms tighten around your body. 

„Best fake date ever,“ you grinned and you felt him chuckle, before he kissed your head just as you drifted off to sleep. 

[mv1simp]

I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.

this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!

Double Fantasy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader

I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)

Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k

Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.

And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.

But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.

A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.

You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.

And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.

But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.

Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?

And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.

But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.

He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?

Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.

So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?

You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?

At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.

That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.

That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.

The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.

And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.

So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!

You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.

His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.

You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.

Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.

And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.

Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.

You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-

Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.

Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.

That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.

But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?

He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-

You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?

That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-

And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.

You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.

So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?

Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.

You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.

With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?

Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.

You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?

Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?

He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.

He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.

After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.

He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.

He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.

Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.

And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.

Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.

Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

—————————————————————————

A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!

[baelarys]

Thérèse

Aemond targaryen x Reader Niece velaryon

word count : 1180

Warning : angust, Insest , Suicide, death of a minor,Mention of blood and cheese ,Delicate and explicit topics

Author's note : I born to be the mother of a girl.

Thérèse pt2

She was your everything, the reason for your joy, your greatest treasure. When Alysa was born, the happiness you felt was indescribable. He looked so much like you: her brown hair and dark eyes were a reflection of yours, and it filled you with an even deeper love.

Every day since her birth, you felt blessed. You watched each of her small gestures, her smile that lit up the room, and each babbling that made you laugh. Alysa had not only inherited your physical traits, but also your spirit, your energy, and your joy for life.

“Can you say mom?” you asked softly to the baby you held in your arms. “Mom,” you repeated in a warm, encouraging voice as you rocked Alysa back and forth.

Her big dark eyes looked at you curiously, her small mouth forming a soft smile. Each attempt of her to imitate you was another step in her development, and it filled you with indescribable pride.

“Come on, little girl, you can do it,” you whispered, bringing her face closer to yours so he could see you better. Alysa babbled something unintelligible, but to you, it was like music.

“Mommy,” you repeated once again, continuing to rock her. Alysa looked at you with those curious eyes, and even though she couldn't form the word yet, you knew she would soon.

The doors to your room suddenly opened, interrupting the moment of peace. You turned to see who it was, and found Aemond standing in the doorway. He looked visibly upset.

“My mother invited you to have lunch with her,” he said, approaching you with a firm step. "You did not go."

“I was taking care of Alysa,” you replied, without much interest, as you continued rocking the baby.

Aemond frowned, his gaze stern. “You know how important your presence at these events is to her. You can’t just ignore their invitations.”

“I'm not ignoring her,” you replied, staying calm. “My priority is Alysa. She needed my attention.”

Aemond took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. He approached you and looked at the little girl in your arms. His expression softened as he saw his daughter, his eyes filling with tenderness.

Without saying a word, he stretched out his arms to support Alysa. Carefully, you moved her from your arms to him. Aemond cradled her gently, his fingers gently stroking her brown hair. Alysa looked at him curiously, her small fingers trying to grab a strand of her father's hair.

“Look who's here, Alysa,” Aemond said in a warm voice he rarely used, reserved only for his daughter. "Is Dad."

The little girl giggled, her little face lighting up with joy. Aemond smiled, his eyes softening further as he looked at his daughter. It was a side of him that very few saw, a vulnerability that only Alysa could bring out.

––––––––

The last few days had been crazy. Aegon's proclamation as king had shaken the foundations of the Seven Kingdoms. The news of Lucerys' death and the looming possibility of war kept everyone in a constant state of anxiety.

In the midst of the political storm, you tried to remain calm, taking refuge in the tranquility and peace that Alysa provided you.

Every morning when you woke up, you heard the whispers of the servants and the worried murmurs that spread through the hallways. The atmosphere in the Red Keep was tense, with furtive glances and hushed conversations dominating the day. Aemond, for his part, found himself increasingly involved in court intrigues, forced to take an active role in his brother's new administration.

Despite everything, your priority was still Alysa. In their small world, politics and wars had no place. Her days were filled with laughter, games and discoveries, and you tried hard to keep that oasis of happiness intact.

You spent hours with her, reading old stories, singing lullabies, and observing each of her small accomplishments with wonder and pride.

One afternoon, while Aemond was away at a council meeting, you took Alysa to the castle gardens. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the scent of summer flowers. Sitting on the grass, you allowed Alysa to crawl around as she pleased, her giggles filling the space around you.

“You're growing up so fast, my princess,” you whispered to her, watching her reach for a butterfly flying nearby. “I wish I could keep you this happy forever, away from all the chaos that surrounds us.”

Just then, you felt a presence behind you. You turned and saw Aemond approaching, his expression a mix of tiredness and concern. Seeing you and Alysa, his face softened a little. He joined you on the grass, setting aside the concerns of the kingdom for a moment.

“I needed this,” Aemond said, taking Alysa into his arms and laughing softly when she tugged at his hair. “A moment of peace in the midst of so much disorder.”

“I know,” you nodded, touching his arm affectionately. “Here, in the gardens, everything seems so distant. We can forget for a moment what is happening out there.”

Aemond nodded, looking at his daughter lovingly. “I would like to be able to offer you a better future, one without wars and conflicts. But these are difficult times.”

“We will,” you said. “We will find a way to protect her and give her a happy life.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, enjoying the sun and the warm breeze. The garden became their refuge, a place where they could escape the worries of the outside world and simply be a family. Alysa laughed with every movement, her happiness was contagious and filled the air with pure and simple joy.

When night fell, you found yourself in Alysa's room, filled with toys scattered on the floor. The soft light of a couple of candles was the only thing that illuminated the gloom, creating dancing shadows on the walls. You watched Alysa sleep peacefully in her crib while you carefully folded some of her little dresses.

The silence was comforting, a pause in the tumult of the day. The candles flickered softly, casting a warm, welcoming light that made the room even more intimate. Alysa's every calm breath was a melody to your ears.

You hadn't sensed the presence of the two men who had entered the room until one of them collided with the small tower of blocks near the door. The sudden noise made you turn around quickly. At first, you thought it might be one of the wet nurses, but when you looked, you saw the faces of two men you didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" you asked, instinctively placing yourself in front of Alysa's crib. You tried to sound strong and authoritative, but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

The men exchanged a quick look. One of them, a tall man with a scar on his cheek. “Who is she?” He asked his companion.

“The one-eyed prince's wife,” one of the men murmured with a sneer on his face. You clung tighter to the crib behind you, feeling the urge to protect Alysa. Both men looked dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew they hadn't come just to catch rats.

“You can go,” you said firmly, noticing how the men approached you, murmuring something about Aemond under their breath. Fear hit you, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure. You decided to turn to take Alysa in your arms and escape, but at that same moment, you felt one of the men grab you by the hair, pulling you back, while a small cold knife was placed on your throat.

Terror washed over you, but you tried to stay calm. Alysa continued sleeping, oblivious to the danger. “Let me go,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your eyes locked with your captor's.

"Give us the child and we will not harm you," said the tallest, most robust man.

"No...no" you responded, trying to get away from the smaller man who was still holding you tightly.

You saw the robust man approach Alysa's crib and you felt as if your heart was going to explode "wait... I have jewelry, gold, I will give you anything, even double what they gave you for coming here" tears fell down your face. cheeks as he removed some gold rings from your fingers and extended them towards the men.

The tall man removed the thin veil that covered Alysa's crib, you suppressed a scream. Trying not to wake the baby who was still sleeping.

“guards…” you tried to scream but the man pressed the knife harder on your throat, you cried, you didn't know what else to do, you started to panic.

The tears began to fall faster when you saw how the man took your little Alysa by her arms and reached for her, causing small moans of pain from the baby.

"No!" You tried to get out of the man's grip on you but you couldn't, you felt the smaller man hit your head with the butt of the knife and threw you towards the wall which caused you to hit your head with it.

You heard Alysa crying, the sound of flesh being pierced accompanied by the sound of blood running on the floor, your stomach turned, you felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Alysa's crying stopped followed by the rough sound of a small body falling against the floor.

The man took the baby's head to put it in a small sack to leave the room followed by the smaller man.

You looked at the scene without knowing what to do until you saw the headless body of your daughter and a large pool of blood accompanying it, you crawled towards her.

“no…no…no” you repeated desperately, your throat hurt, your heart hurt and the tears came out without stopping, clouding your vision, you took the small body in your arms, bathing your fine dress in blood.

A heartbreaking scream came from your throat, your Alysa, your little and dear daughter, has been taken from you in such a cruel and inhuman way

The sound of the footsteps of some guards entering the room didn't even make you look away from the puddle that your baby's body was releasing.

“Y/N” Aemond called but you didn't turn around, you drowned in your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death you couldn't protect her, you were a shame. A small scream came from your throat, clinging more and more to the body you held in your arms.

–––––––––––

The night cold insinuated itself through the cracks of the window, cooling the already gloomy atmosphere of the room. A Week had passed since Alysa had left, leaving a palpable emptiness that expanded with each beat of your heart. The pain, far from diminishing with time, seemed to cling more tightly to your soul, as if the passing of the days did nothing but revive the memories of that fateful night.

In the oppressive silence of your room, the absence of words and human contact was a conscious choice. You had chosen withdrawal, seeking refuge in solitude to face the emotional whirlwind that enveloped you. Not even Aemond, your husband, had managed to penetrate the wall of your pain. Every time he tried to get closer, you retreated a little further, wrapped in a blanket of silence and memories.

One of the maids silently entered the room, carrying with her a tray of food that she knew beforehand you wouldn't touch. With a respectful but concerned gesture, she placed the tray on a small table next to the bed, discreetly removing the morning tray that was still intact.

"Dinner, your highness," she announced quietly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of your silent contemplation. Her eyes reflected a mixture of understanding and regret at your persistent refusal to feed yourself properly.

Nodding barely perceptibly, you acknowledged the delivery with a gesture while you watched her leave with soft and discreet steps watched him leave with soft and discreet steps. Dinner remained in front of you.

Your gaze fell on the small knife next to the butter, an almost insignificant detail in the composition of the tray. You watched it for a long moment, feeling ideas swirl and fade in your tumultuous mind. Among them all, a single idea persisted, firm as a beacon in the midst of the emotional storm that enveloped you.

With trembling but determined hands, you took the knife and headed to your bed, delicately passing the sharp object across your wrist watching as blood began to flow.

You were surprised not to feel anything, you laid down carefully feeling how the liquid wet the sheet beneath you while your eyelids became heavy you didn't fight to stay awake the only thing you wanted now was just to rest.

[onlyangel4]

party girl animal shelter. cl16. SMAU. part one.

charles leclerc x animal shelter owner! reader

after getting leo charles realises becomes more connected to the animal world. he stumbles across a tik tok of your shelter in las vegas and decides that he needs to visit.

warnings: cursing

author's note: this will likely be a two or three part mini series. as someone who volunteers at an animal shelter this is truly self-indulgent

faceclaim: olivia o'brien

part two

y/npartygirlshelter posted a slideshow on tik tok

y/npartygirlshelter

liked by y/bff, friend1, charlesleclerc and 3,402 others

tagged y/bff

y/npartygirlshelter: a trip to vegas to celebrate three years of party girl animal shelter. we really do live up to the name

view all 56 comments

y/bff: you taking a call about a puppy admission in the middle of the club was peak party girl animal shelter business

y/npartygirlshelter: the duality of woman

user1: i'm new here but i love your vibe ! i'm so glad you can be a party girl and still live your dream

y/npartygirlshelter: aw thank you angel, check you dms i sent you a few pictures from the shelter i thought you might like

leclercupdates posted a story

written: charles is officially the first driver to touch down in las vegas. we wonder what he is doing here so early.

y/bff posted a story tagging y/npartygirlshelter

written: omw to go meet my favourite f1 driver all because y/n is the best friend a girl could wish for

y/npartygirlshelter posted a story tagging charlesleclerc

written: safe to say rolo is already in love with today's visitor

charlesleclerc posted two stories tagging y/npartygirlshelter

charlesleclerc

liked by carlossainz, landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,201,101 others

tagged y/npartygirlshelter

charlesleclerc: today i got to visit a hidden gem in vegas. the party girl animal shelter is an animal shelter run by y/n t/ln a twenty three year old that lost her father three years ago. she used her inheritance to build this wonderful place. i am so grateful for all the animals that i got to meet, i exhibited great control by not getting leo a brother. thank you y/n for having me !

view all 14,501 comments

danielricciardo: so this is what you do. get to vegas early just to spend time with a pretty girl and some very cute animals. fair play charles. fair play.

charlesleclerc: don't hate the player hate the game

y/npartygirlshelter: when the fuck did you manage to get sunglasses on elvis?

charlesleclerc: when you were busy feeding the others

user2: bro she fine as hell

user6: i just did a deep dive on her tik tok, she is so hot and funny as fuck as well. charles you need to date her before i do.

landonorris: can i come next time you go

charlesleclerc: no. find your own hidden gem

user11: bro met her today and is already down bad

y/npartygirlanimalshelter

liked by charlesleclerc, y/bff, landonorris and 12,301 others

tagged charlesleclerc

y/npartygirlshelter: a massive thank you to today's guest of honour (pictured here with our lovely resident blue) who brought be a lego bouquet because it is too hot here in vegas for real flowers

view all 2011 comments

y/bff: thank you so much for letting me crash so i could meet him

charlesleclerc: it was lovely meeting you y/bff

y/npartygirlshelter: charles you are going to give my best friend a heart attack

charlesleclerc: thank you for teaching me all about your residents

y/npartygirlshelter: anytime charles

user21: not daniel being in likes! hope you can fight charles

user4: shit she is stunning oh my god

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of series: a series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. of course some angst and fights along the way in this rollercoaster of emotions. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. summary of this part: the start of y/n and landos friendship/crush. y/n is bored at the eurocup where a stranger (lando) is suggesting a betting game to make her interested in the sport (and him). wc: 1,2k notes: im too obsessed with one day atm so just had to write a story inspired by it!! it’s very modified tho, and i haven’t decided yet if it will have the same ending, don’t know if i can handle that haha! also pls ignore the charles pic, couldn't find a better atm. hmu if you have any requests for any of the years x part two here

summer of 2016

Red Bull Ring, Austria

”please y/n, you’re 16 years old, can’t you go elsewhere and entertain yourself, you’re getting a bit annoying now” y/n’s dad told her whilst he was trying to fix the broken car.

”ugh, sure i’ll go for a walk then” y/n sighed and went to go for a walk around the paddock hoping to see something more interesting than broken cars. her friends were jealous that y/n could tag along her father around europe all summer watching the eurocup formula renault 2.0, but she wasn’t very impressed. despite having a father working as a mechanic and utterly interested in motorsport she hadn’t inherited any interested in the sport what so ever. but at least she could escape england and the rain for some time so it felt like a win although she sometimes felt like dying from boredom. 

y/n walked around the paddock and decided to facetime her friend y/f/n.

”please come and save me, austria is so fucking boring and where the hell are all the cute guys i was waiting for??” y/n proclaimed. 

”omg y/n stop it, you’re always nagging about everything, you should be happy!! nothing happens here either so might as well be in another country doing the same” y/f/n said as y/n entered a tent where they served drinks and snacks. while she was ordering she noticed a curly haired boy shaking his head whilst smiling her way but she just continued her conversation with y/f/n. after enough discussion about the lack of interest y/n had for the sport and talking about y/f/n new crush y/n ended the call, sat down and opened her pepsi in front of her. it took about five milliseconds before the curly haired boy reappeared, this time in the seat in front of her. 

”hi” the boy squealed. 

”…hi?” y/n said questioning what he wanted, she weren’t exactly in the bestest of moods so to say. 

”i heard you hated the eurocup and that you think every guy is ugly here, so here i am to prove you otherwise” he said grinning. y/n chuckled at the way the boy seemed to have no time to waste in proving her wrong. 

”and how are you supposed to do that? do you have a masterplan?” y/n asked looking amused.

”glad you asked! well first of all here i am so now you’ve at least seen one cute boy around the paddock so there’s one problem solved an-” the boy was interrupted with y/n’s laugh. she couldn’t help herself from laughing but tried to gesticulate with her hand that he could continue. 

with a smile he proceeded to tell the girl about a betting game that could make her interested in watching the races. y/n was immediately down for the idea because honestly she could’ve done anything at this moment to have some fun. they had to come up with one condition each for the bet and agreed on saying them at the same time so no-one could back out. the curly haired boy betted that he would stand on the podium on today’s race and y/n betted that he wouldn’t, easy as that. now to the conditions. the boy apparently had his condition already planned out so y/n panicked trying to come up with one quickly too. she looked around her and went with the first random idea she got. 

”okay so we’ll say them on three?” y/n asked getting a nod for an answer.

”one.. two.. three” 

”you’ll buy me-” y/n started before getting interrupted.

”you’ll give me a kiss” the boy said with a cheeky smile. 

”…a pepsi. WHOA! you’re wasting no time mister” y/n laughed out after finding out the big differences in the conditions given. she was followed by a laughter from the boy too who was unsurprisingly very pleased with the bet. y/n wasn’t disappointed either, the boy was indeed quite cute for being a driver but she couldn’t let him know that. imagine the hubris he would get then, in comparison what he already had. 

the pair shook hands and locked in the bet. they decided to meet up after the race either at the podium or at his team, depending on how the race went. y/n was excited and almost felt a little butterfly in her stomach getting loose. 

”see you later then…” the boy hesitated realizing he hadn’t asked her name.

”y/n l/n, and yours was?” she asked.

”lando norris, but there’s no need to remember that, you will see the name on the top of the podium later” he chuckled walking away to his team. 

y/n could only smile and shake her head while walking away too. 

—

”and lando norris takes his fourth victory in this seasons eurocup!!” the presenter shouts excitingly. 

y/n was smiling so big her dad had to check up on her, how she immediately had watched a whole race after watching exactly zero of them up until now this summer. y/n had no time to explain to him what was going on and started to run along the paddock until she reached the podium. she was so excited and nervous that she was about to burst, it was hard to believe that she was developing some kind of a crush to this random driver. 

because she had little to none sense of direction the celebration at the podium was already done and dusted when she reached it. a bit disappointed and confused she looked around to see if she could see lando somewhere. there was surprisingly many people running around here.

”looking for someone?” a familiar voice said and y/n turned around. there he was, a happy lando holding a trophy in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. she smiled and congratulated him partly for the victory and partly because he somehow got her interest in the sport for once. 

”i know it’s not nearly as good as a pepsi but you can have my flowers as a consolation prize” he said handing them to her. she took the flowers and admired them with a smile feeling her butterflies about to let loose. she collected some courage and looked up at his eyes before quickly looking at his lips and crashing onto them. the kiss took lando a bit with surprise but he was quick to answer it. with the hand not holding the trophy lando gently grabbed the back of y/n’s head, slowly deepening the kiss. the butterflies were officially out and about in y/n’s stomach. she tried so hard to hide the excitement but at the end she couldn’t resist smiling and therefore accidentally ending the kiss. slowly they pulled away from each other, leaving them both with blushing smiles on their lips. they looked at each other in silence for a moment before abruptly getting interrupted.

”lando! we’re taking pictures! come here now!” a member of his team shouted.

”well i guess i have to go then.. hope i’ll see you around” lando shyly told the girl.

”i hope so too” y/n stated not knowing the rollercoaster of joys and troubles they’d share in the future as friends and lovers. 

—

notes: feel free to give feedback and requests for future parts! x

[honeyshiddendesire]

🤠Cowboys You Say?

Pairing: Zoro, Eustass, Sabo, Marco & Ace x fem!reader (separate or sharing doesn't affect the story)

*Old Note: Had a vacation out on 93 acres in the countryside and all I was thinking about…cowboys.*

Warnings: bondage! Dom/sub! Pet names! Praise & degradation! Vaginal penetration! Bimbofication! Rough sex! Spanking! Hair pulling! Yata yata smut lol y’all know I write nasty!breeding kink!

@votaeto @zorosdimples thought y’all might like this 

*New Author’s Note: Out of all the stories I thought I lost from my old account Honey’s World of Fanfiction THIS one was by far my favorite so to stumble upon it again makes me sooo freaking hype!!!! AHHH So excited!!!! Hope everyone still loves it just as much as me!! Don’t be alarmed I did fix some typos as well! Lol*

*cow banner*

Acres of land as far as the eye can see was before you. Majestic and overwhelming but it was now yours. Inherited from your late father, Edward, you had no choice but to return home to his prize. The ranch he loved second ONLY to you, too precious for you to just sell.

Patches of woods and forests littered with game even open fields for horses to run wild until tamed. There was a beautiful garden that stretched around the ranch, a pond with a family of ducks. A river with a strong current that only the toughest even dare swim in, flowing just along the ranch’s right side.

The terrain was intense but luckily your father made sure he left you with a great team to help you out.

*banner*

Lumberjack Ace 🪓who jumps out his pickup truck shirtless, drenched in a layer of sweat with an ax resting on his shoulder.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who was saddened and shocked at your father’s death but happy seeing his pretty daughter inherit the ranch.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who tips his hat and winks at you with a side smirk as he walks, “Mornin’ darlin’.”  The freckled face and cut abs flustering you immediately.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who pours a bucket of water over his head before taking the sweet tea you offered after hours of chopping firewood.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who cleans the chimney for you in your freakish city that gets snow storms mid summer. The grand line farmland a whirlwind of weather.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 flirts the entire time with winks and smirks. “Don’t worry babydoll I’ll have this house as hot as you in no time.” Tossing the wood he chopped inside with a dramatic sigh.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who ax throws intruders wanting to harm you

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause you’re his pretty cowgirl princess. “Aren’t you just a spitfire?” His moans drawn out all nice and sweet for ya.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who fucks you hard against the trees he plans on chopping. Using you to see if they’re sturdy enough as your back rubs against the rough bark.

“Yeah pretty girl ya like that don’t ya?” He’ll ask as he nips at your bottom lip making you whimper, pussy clenching. His cock will destroy your insides as the harsh tree rubs your skin raw. “Want my seed deep in that cute lil pussy of yours? I bet you do baby girl. Take every drop alright darlin’.”

Fucking your cunt hard in the forest as your screams bounced off the tall trees making him grunt as he paints that pussy white. “That’s my pretty girl.” 🪓

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Doctor Marco 🩺 who rode in on a fucking horse with flowers in his hands to show his condolences.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even studied animals in order to help your father when he stressed over his prized horse, Whitebeard, growing sick.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who made it a point to stop by everyday on his gorgeous marbled stallion, saying it was important for your mental health on such a secluded land.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who comes to your aid during the harsh heat when you almost had a heat stroke. “Wow there birdie~ can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”

And !!

The treacherous winter when he finds you passed out in the house shaking still not used to a single fire heating up such a big house. “Sweet bird what would you do without me~” He’ll coo at you.

Doctor Marco 🩺  who sheds his clothes to warm you up the fastest way you can in the countryside. “Come here birdie I’ll keep you warm.” 

Cock plunging deep into your pussy to make you sweat. Your gasps and moans make him shiver, back arching off the bed as you claw at his skin. “D-doctor~ M-Marco ah~ you feels so warm.” You whimper as he leans over pushing his weight on his hands.

“I know dove~ let me keep taking good~ care of you. Make sure you stay nice and warm inside and out.” Marco’s thrust would be deep and really rough to make you sweaty and gasping. “I reckon I’ll have you feeling peachy in no time birdie.”

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even checks your gag reflex with his cock buried snug in your wet throat.

“Take a little more pretty thing.” Hand brushing your hair back with a gentle smile. Your eyes watery as you looked up at him in your pretty sundress soaked in your drool.

“There ya go dove doin just~ fine.” Marco would grunt out as he shallowly thrusts into your throat. Cumming deeply into your tight mouth making you moan softly at the taste. Semen dripping down the sides making you whine and even messier for his greedy eyes.

🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who picked the prettiest mustangs for your father.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who supplies all the best horses in town. Even trains them too.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who washes your horses and loves watching you braid their hair afterwards in different styles. “I think that's one of my favorites sweet pea.” He’ll say coming up behind you all close.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who holds you tightly when a horse passes because he too knows your pain of losing a stallion.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who gets to train ladies all week but still doesn’t get behind them for a lesson, opting for his own stallion but insists on doing it for you. Saying you need the best.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who teaches you to ride. Thick cock brushing up against you as he wraps his arms around you. Breath heavy from the close proximity, “Doing great doll~” Voice raspy after a long ride of his cock brushing against your pretty self.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who buys you matching gloves for riding saying they’re the best and they’ll last the longest because of the quality but it’s actually because he likes you matching.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who wins all the horse racing championships

“Looking good doll.” Sabo drew out as he leaned against the railing where you were sitting in the front row. All the other women were jealous, wanting his attention too.

“How’s about I take a pretty lady like you out to a fancy dinner and a nice ride?” He winks at the last part hinting at a night of mystery that you so said ‘yes’ to.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who also makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause that’s just what cowboys do.

Eyes rolling back as he tugged on the knots you were bound by, “Just like that sweet pea move’em nice and slow fa me.” Sabo groaned out, voice raspy making you whine.  Fat cockhead pushing past your cervix making you choke out moans.

“Ooooooowweee doll listen to you howl. Go head and cum on me ‘kay sweetheart.” Sabo’s cocky when he fucks his fat cock up into your dripping pussy. His blue hat bouncing with his powerful thrusts, pussy squirting making his ego grow more. “Now that’s a prize winning stallion! Fuck~!! I’m gonna have to breed you full after that ride.”

🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 Who brought you the biggest cow in the shop to show his condolences.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who still delivers fresh meats weekly even though you’re not sick like your father and very capable of doing it yourself.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always offers to sharpen your kitchenware when he delivers the meats to ensure you the best.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who loves pulling up to you grilling or smoking some meats and seeing your proud smile when you used his ingredients. “Please Zoro! You just have to join me for dinner! I think you’re gonna love how the steaks turned out! It's a great cut.”

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who can hog tie the fastest in the countryside. Seeing him wrangle up that boar with his cocky smirk made your thighs press together. Feeling like a sinner in church needing a sip of sweet tea with the way he wiped the sweat off his brow.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always winks at you and tips his hat after winning the hog tying contest making everyone jealous.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who puts you in gorgeous knots and suspended ropes to stretch you out in.

“Dammit woman look at you suckin’ in this cock like a champion.” Zoro grunted as he watched his cock disappear down your sloppy throat. Spit and cum from an earlier load dripping all over your front. Pulling away he ripped your top open and latched his hungry mouth onto your breast. Your arms above you in ropes as you hung like a butchered pig ripe for his taking.

“Prettiest little piggy to ever be eaten by me, I tell you what.” Zoro smirked as he left mark after amazing mark all over your sweaty skin.

Tying your legs up and spread out so he can slide that fat ass cock all the way in with no interruptions. “Fuck yeah piggy lemme hear you squeal for this cock just butchering your insides.” He was definitely merciless in all the things he did but you weren’t about to complain.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who still tends to your 100+ acres of land cause, “Ain’t no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing a pretty lamb like you is doin all the work.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who calls you almost every farm/animal he can possibly think of.  Lamb, pig, mouse, bunny, chickie, calf, heifer,etc

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who comes to your aid whenever you need repairs around the house, but only does them shirtless.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who drives the tracker shirtless in his overalls with a piece of straw in his mouth, hat tipped real low. Winking at you when you give him a cool glass of lemonade for his hard work plowing the fields, though you couldn’t help but desire that he was plowing something else.

“Thanks lil calf but I think I might wanna drink on somethin’ else you can gimme me. Maybe some milk?”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who buys you the prettiest dresses and shoes cause he’ll be doin all the hard labor anyways.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who gets handsy the fastest cause he can’t help but want to let out all his stress on you. Looking like a sweet lil belle that he wanted nothing more than to corrupt into his pretty bimbo after a long day.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who’s a total stereotype. Wanting a beer and his dick sucked the second he steps foot in the door. Don’t worry he always returns the favor 😉

“Been thinkin’ bout these lips wrapped around my cock all damn day out on that field. Fuck~ that’s it chick, slobber all over me.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who roughly shoves your face in the hay as he fucks you ass up in the barn. Spanking you and pulling you back by your pigtails.

“Good fuckin’ calf. Letting me breed you full till you’re swollen wit my kids, tits drippin with milk for me.” Hips rocking into your cunt with a mission to fill you full. Stuffing your womb full of his children to run and play on the farm.“Fuck-my little cow being so good. Stay just like that babe.” Spanking you as he grabs both your pigtails in one large hand. “Sweet little heifer letting me breed her like she’s supposed ta wit outta fight. Come on moo for your owner baby.”  Voice raspy as he’ll grip your ass, fucking you hard on his heavy cock. Hay scratching into your face as you cream around his dick with a shaky scream. “Soundin’ so pretty when you get loud like that fa me.”

[bratzforchris]

sturniolo triplets masterlist ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

hello! this is a complied list of all my works for you to enjoy! please remember that my writing does not reflect matt, chris, or nick in real life; it is purely fiction. enjoy!

🎃=fluff, 💀=angst, 👻=smut, 🦇=alternate universe, 🧡=headcanons, 🍬=age regression, 🧛🏻‍♀️=latina reader, 🐈‍⬛=neurodivergent

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Matt Sturniolo

Chicken Soup: in which matt takes care of you while you're under the weather [🎃]

Comfort: matt's been burning out, but with your help, everything is okay [🎃]

Disgusting Food Roulette: in which you comfort matt after the infamous disgusting food roulette [🎃]

My Person: a rather stressful meltdown on the podcast leaves matt struggling, to which the best way to calm down is to spend time with his special interests and his comfort person [🐈‍⬛]

Moonlight: you and matt have perfected your start to the weekend, which includes a little bit of weed, and a whole lot of sex [👻]

Healing: headcanons about healing your inner child with matt [🍬]

Puppy Love : in which matt is your biggest protector and helps you afce your fear of dogs [🎃]

Dad Energy: headcanons about girl dad!matt [🎃]

Sleepy Baby: after a long, hard day of stress, you finally find the courage to slip around your boyfriend [🍬]

Tumblr Girls: an "innocent" tumblr post leads you to a visit from fwb!matt [👻]

Relax, Baby: in which matt discovers your biggest secret and helps you realize that it's okay to heal your inner child [🍬]

Five Love Languages: ways in which you show your love for matt as a neurodivergent person [🐈‍⬛]

Model Baby: matt's a model with a secret--he's practically the biggest sub on the planet and he's turned on by his photographer [👻]

Snowy the Lamb: in which matt finds a new favorite toy for his little self [🍬]

Goldfish: matt's chronic illness is flaring up, but somehow the cute nurse in the er makes the situation slightly less shitty [🎃]

Make It Better: in which matt's sick and bored and wants exercise [👻]

Animal: the hockey game did not go matt's way and he wants, no, needs an outlet [👻/🦇]

Matt with Food Intolerances: headcanons about matt having food allergies [🍬]

I Think You're Hot: headcanons about matt being the best husband to his bi wife [🧡]

Bumps n' Bruises: in which matt just wants to play like chris, but his body won't let him do that [🍬]

Matt x Mexican!girlfriend Headcanons: headcanons about matt and his mexican gf [🧡/🧛🏻‍♀️]

Bed Chem: in which matt looks a little too good in his latest tiktok [👻]

Guess: based off the song by charli xcx :) [👻]

Chris Sturniolo

My Girl: in which you and chris bring your daughter home from the hospital for the first time [🎃]

Daddy's Girl: headcanons about chris being the best caregiver [🍬]

Princess Treatment: in which you take being a brat too far for chris' taste [👻]

One of the Kids: headcanons about chris being the fun dad [🧡]

Ways to Say ‘I Love You’: in which you and chris have what very well may be the cutest relationship ever [🐈‍⬛]

Prank: in which a "harmless" prank leads to you being face down, ass up [👻]

Gotcha: in which your children inherit chris' playful nature [🎃]

Scream: in which chris discovers a not-so-conventional fetish of yours [👻]

Chris with a Latina Girlfriend: headcanons about chris and his latina girlfriend [🧡/🧛🏻‍♀️]

Masking: in which a day full of masking leads to your boyfriend taking wonderful care of you [🐈‍⬛]

Once Upon a Dream: you have a princess costume and a dream...one that involves chris and a lot of sex [👻]

Barbies: in which you and chris heal your inner child together [🐈‍⬛]

Sunflowers: having adhd is hard, but when chris meets a kind stranger, you instantly click [🐈‍⬛]

Babygirl: just chris being the best daddy ever [🍬]

Snaps You’d Take of Bf!Chris: self explanatory [🎃]

Red Looks Good on You (Pt. 1): in which you meet a hot and nice lifeguard on your summer vacation [🦇]

Red Looks Good on You (Pt. 2): in which you meet a hot and nice lifeguard on your summer vacation [🦇/👻]

Daddy!Chris Headcanons: headcanons about daddy chris being the best ever [🍬]

Chris x Autistic!reader Headcanons: headcanons about chris helping his autistic partner during a meltdown [🐈‍⬛]

Nick Sturniolo

Uncle Nick: headcanons about nick being the fun uncle [🧡]

Dad Life: headcanons about dad!nick [🧡]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡

© 2024-bratzforchris

all of the work posted here is 100% my own. please do not copy/repost/translate my writing on other platforms (this includes linking and “recommending” on tiktok). this is my only tumblr account and my ao3 is under the same username.

updated: september 6th, 2024

[cherryschaos]

Recovering from surgery means watching New Girl, Gilmore Girls, and only thinking about TIG

Having said that, the Hawthorne Brothers play True American. But it tends to devolve into a very intense game.of protect the president

[what-even-is-thiss]

Trying to come up with increasingly convoluted reasons that people in the elder scrolls are almost always the same race as their mother and not their father:

Some major racial traits are carried in the X chromosome. This would explain why males are usually visually the same as their mothers but would not explain it for females. Maybe studies in Tamriel are sexist and have an over-representation of cisgender men in the data

Race is culturally determined by the type of racial magic inherent and what magic abilities you get are caused by stewing in your mother’s magic or something

Whether a baby will have an elven or human appearance/lifespan is like. Hormone based? Based on what hormones they’re exposed to in the womb? Kinda like how some scientists think homosexuality works? Maybe if you put an elf fetus into a human it would turn into some new type of human with elf dna?

The gods give the racial appearance of the baby to the parent that prays about it harder and if they both ask just as hard the pregnant one wins the tie because they’re doing the most work

It’s actually equally likely for either parents’ race to be visually or magically dominant but the people of Tamriel have just somehow been getting heads in the coin toss for five billion times in a row, like when a family of twelve is all girls or all boys but taken to the extreme

Certain racial traits are just considered culturally to make you that race if you have them. Like how dark skin might work in some places in our world. So maybe all the half this or that people we’ve met have just happened to inherit those racial traits from their mothers. Like how the grey prince from Oblivion has an orcish nose so he’s considered to be an orc even though he’s half imperial or how Karliah from Skyrim has grey skin so she’s considered to be a dark elf even though one of her grandfathers was mixed race altmer/bosmer

The imperial guild of healers is just making this stuff up and it’s just not true. You can meet some people in the games that inherited their father’s race including Virkmund, a Nord child in Skyrim with a Breton mother and there’s written records of more instances of people looking more like their fathers

The Dreamer that’s dreaming up the universe messes with peoples DNA to make them look like their mothers because it likes things to fit in neat categories

The people on Tamriel have alien DNA or some other equivalent thing native only to a jar in Todd Howard’s office.

[heliads]

Newt x reader Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her as a person and isn’t after her money. Newt, son of a widowed viscountess, needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged. The anonymous writer Lady Whistledown is Ava, a widowed modiste who has her nose in everyone’s business, and Aris is the only one who knows.

'foxes and hounds' - newt

masterlist

The start of a new social season, although intended, supposedly, to be a cause for joy, feels rather more like a fierce uprising of dread, not celebration. Across the ton, young maidens find themselves new entrees– or, entrants– to the marriage mart. This game of rings and dances, men with ambition and women with more, will end in blissful happiness or deepest discontent. And all will be witnessed by every worthy family from one corner of the country to the next.

If all goes according to plan, an eligible would-be bride will find herself engaged to a man she loves, a man in possession of a handsome fortune and a sterling reputation. If luck slips past her, she’ll settle for someone decent, or someone without any income at all. If nothing goes in her favor, her first year in society will not be her last as a single woman. She will have to repeat her attempt the next year, this time without the glimmering aura of a new arrival, and hope that something within her has changed enough to attract a proposal. Otherwise, she will sink to the bottom of the pile of dance cards, ignored, abandoned, and grown up into a spinster. All that hard work gone to waste.

You’ve heard many young women discuss the marriage mart with nothing short of absolute terror in their voices. A good opening season can seal a girl’s fate forever. Attracting the eye of a worthy man is an impossible task for all but the best of the rosebuds, or so it seems. Most of us will settle for something halfway decent– a tidy sum per annum but nothing extravagant, a man with casual disinterest but nothing harsh. Something that can be shaped into something good, or at least ignored in favor of not being alone. Such is the romance of a married life.

You, however, hope to extract a little more out of the whole affair. As the Duchess of Hastings, you have no need for money. A marriage would be nice, the final touch on the portrait of a successful lady, but you do not require the financial stability of a husband. You have plenty of money and plenty of friends. You will inherit your estate. If you look for a husband, you will look only for love.

One would think, then, that entering your first season among the eligible women of the ton would be bereft of the panic permeating through most of your friends in search of husbands. However, when you line up with the rest of the young women to be presented to the Queen at the start of the season, you find that it couldn’t be less true. 

Your stomach is in knots, even as you sweep confidently through the corridor to wait outside the door. The white feather in your hair stands tall and proud. Your dress is crisp and finely stitched, the highest of fashion yet never gaudy. You attract stares wherever you go– from the other girls, envious and jealous and heartsick, from the men, longing and cutthroat and mercenary– but pretend they don’t phase you in the slightest. As duchess, you’ve had plenty of time to grow accustomed to onlookers. You won’t allow them to interfere with you on this all important day.

At last, your name is called, and you enter the throne room, your mother behind you. You keep your steps small but light, and seem to float towards your queen. When the time is right, you sink into an elegant curtsy. The moment seems to last forever, your knees bent, your hands shaking slightly, but when the queen calls you to stand, you look up to find her smiling benevolently at you.

“I believe I have found my diamond of the season,” she announces.

The room erupts in polite applause, and you do your best to smother a smile that’s entirely too giddy to be proper. As you retreat from the room, you gaze at the faces surrounding you, trying to remember which ones look genuinely happy for you and which seem to be identifying a prize pig for the slaughter. When the town gossips all gather later to share their thoughts on today’s proceedings, you’re certain that some of them will attempt to discredit you, saying that of course the queen would choose the duchess as her diamond, but you know just as well as all of them that you deserve the honor today. You were the best of everyone here, and it’s plain to see.

Among all of them, your gaze catches on a singular man, almost lost in the crowd from all the bodies packed together but no less entrancing. What strikes you the most is that his face seems kind, and his eyes sparkle with pride as they watch you go. Pride for you, for your accomplishments. As if he couldn’t be more delighted that you of all people were named the season’s diamond.

Then you’re gone from the room, and the kind man is no longer before you. Still, you puzzle over the encounter long after your carriage takes you home. You don’t believe you recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything to sway you towards any decision. An image of the young man swims in your mind– short, dirty blond hair, an upturned mouth, dark eyes, his face almost spritely. Clever, for sure.

You know better than to mess with clever men. Clever men are the type to try and twist your mind, convince you that they only love you then attempt to make off with your money. You know full well what marriage to you will offer any would-be suitor. This season, you may be looking for affection, but every man in the room will be after your fortune. The task of finding someone who truly cares for you will be a difficult one indeed.

So, clever men or not, you’ll have to keep your heart under close guard. When the first ball of the season comes to be, you don one of your finest dresses, and firmly admonish yourself to be careful. The game of hearts is not one that you lose. Either you win, or you destroy yourself.

You time your arrival carefully, so as to make the best entrance, and your efforts are rewarded. From the moment you’re announced, all eyes turn to you. Were it not for your extensive experience with being scrutinized in the grand magnifying lens that is the ton, you’d be nervous to have that many people looking at you. Even still, you can’t pretend you don’t feel a small flutter in your stomach.

It gets easier once you sweep further into the room, once people start smiling at you again, when the conversation picks up and you’re asked for your first dance of the evening, which you accept. Your partner is a charming man named Minho– dark hair, witty eyes, an excellent sense of humor. He’s athletic and a decent dancer, and by the time the music stops, you’re back to your usual self again. You can’t stop yourself from mentally sizing up your dance partner. He seems nice, and you wouldn’t be bored around him, at least. His family owns land. Although he’s not of your precise social standing, few are, and he’s close enough to you that it would be a respectable match.

Still– still, you think to yourself, as you move away from the center of the floor once more to consider your dance card, it’s not quite enough. You want love, you want a spark, and you didn’t quite get that with Minho. There are plenty of eligible suitors here, though, and many more balls to come. You’ll have other opportunities to select a match.

A few dances later, though, your feet are beginning to feel heavy and you’re still no closer to finding someone of interest than you were at the start. A good lady of extensive training such as yourself should have no problem dancing the entire night through with a pleasant smile on her face, but you’re still human, still tired, and your charming demeanor is beginning to pinch at the seams before long.

The music for the latest dance ends, and you curtsy to your partner, praying silently that no one else will be looking to fill your dance card for the next rotation. However, when you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of many anxious faces. Something inside you wilts, perhaps your endurance.

Before the mobs can descend upon you, however, a figure appears in front of you. You sigh in relief to see one of your closest friends, Miss Teresa Agnes. “Teresa! And here I thought I wouldn’t have a single good friend all evening.”

Teresa laughs, her dark hair shining. “I would never abandon you. Certainly not when our diamond is sparkling so spectacularly tonight.”

You smile at her. “I’m not the only one who’s sparkling, Teresa. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Teresa says sincerely. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce someone to you. This is Viscount Newt, a good friend of mine. I met him through Thomas.”

You smile to yourself as Teresa turns to beckon someone towards you. Teresa has been harboring a not-so-secret admiration for Thomas since you were all small. This is her first season in the social circles, too, and if she doesn’t come out of it with a proposal from Thomas, you’ll think the sky has fallen. Even now, he’s watching her fondly from across the room, trying to pretend as if he isn’t pining madly while Minho teases him for it.

“Here he is at last,” Teresa says, and all of a sudden you can’t think about Thomas’ case of lovesickness for a second longer, because Teresa has brought her friend before you, and you know him. It’s the stranger from your presentation to the queen. The nice one, the clever one. The one that caught your eye, and then your imagination.

You curtsy automatically, and Newt bows. Once the two of you straighten up, you’re able to observe him more closely. You’d only gotten a fleeting glimpse earlier, but now you can drink in the sight of him, and you do. His eyes are dark, but catch the lights like stars. His mouth has a habit of twitching up at the sides, as if he’s always thinking of a joke but just barely managing to keep it at bay. When he looks at you, he really looks at you. You’ve been stared at all night by would-be suitors, but their gazes never went farther than surface level. Right now, it’s as if Newt can see through to your very soul, and most intimately of all, appreciates it.

Teresa gives you a confused look, and you realize you’ve been standing in silence for longer than is probably courteous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“I must return the sentiment,” Newt returns. “Teresa has talked about you many times. I’ve been quite eager to meet you.”

“I hope I’m worthy of what she’s told you,” you say.

Newt smiles again. “I believe you’re even better than that,” he tells you.

Teresa is looking at you with an odd smile. “I believe I’d better let the two of you get to know each other, then,” she says, and sweeps away before you can stop her.

Newt laughs. “She’s been wanting to set us up for ages. For a friendship, I mean,” he breaks in hastily. “Apparently, she thinks we have a similar sense of humor.”

“I look forward to finding that out myself,” you smile.

Newt’s eyes flash with mirth again, delighting you. Behind you, the music picks up again. Newt extends a hand towards you. “Would you mind if I shared a dance with you? Unless, of course, you’d rather sit for a while.”

“I’d love to dance,” you say quickly, and it’s true. All of a sudden, the pain in your feet is gone, as if it had never existed at all.

Newt smiles and takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor. The orchestra begins its melody, and you start your dance. You make a mental note to ask Teresa a little more about Newt later; he dances like an aristocrat, but he speaks so freely to you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced in a suitor before.

Newt arches a brow as he steps through the dance. “Sizing me up, are you? It may be improper of me to ask, but I do hope I’m meeting your requirements.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m simply appreciating your mastery of this dance. Nothing more.”

Newt laughs easily. “Of course not. It’s not as if everyone else here is doing the same thing right now. Every dance partner is a strategy meeting. In just a matter of minutes, you’ll walk away knowing if I am a worthy wager, and I will do the same. This ball is full of hounds and foxes, my lady. We all know our parts.”

You glance at him, feeling a curious grin tugging at your lips. “And which am I? Fox or hound?”

Newt returns your proud gaze. “I suppose we’ll find out at the end of the season, won’t we?”

You laugh, feeling oddly triumphant. Newt has this way about him that you find enchanting. It’s  almost breaching impropriety with how candid he is around you, but it only makes you trust him more. The dance ends far sooner than you’d like. Newt relinquishes you to the storm of suitors outside, hopefully with just as much reluctance as you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Newt is truly the only one that stands out to you. You don’t have a chance to dance with him again, but you keep making eye contact as you dance with other partners. You can practically hear his clever words in your head, catching you in the act of evaluating the suitors in front of you. Fox or hound?

When the ball ends and you return to your carriage for the ride home, you’re blissful, practically dreamy. You’ve had enough time with Newt to dream about it until the next ball, where you’ll likely repeat the same cycle over and over again until the season ends.

However, your golden mood is shattered when your chaperone sits down across from you. Her face, by contrast, is twisted with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into?” She asks once the carriage pulls away.

Still caught up in the heady dream of a merry boy who smiled the brightest when he danced with you, you don’t realize the trap descending around you until it’s too late. “What trouble?”

Your chaperone’s lips purse. “You’re meant to be dancing only with eligible gentlemen, my lady. I should hope that you’d be able to recognize the suitable candidates from the unseemly by now.”

The veil is pierced, and you’re beginning to be brought back to earth. “What are you talking about? I thought I made perfectly reasonable choices with my dance partners.”

Your chaperone shakes her head, a quick, sharp gesture. “All but one. Goodness, haven’t you heard about the trouble with that one family? I can’t believe Miss Agnes had the nerve to introduce him to you, but perhaps the fact that she’s so besotted with Lord Thomas is upsetting her mind.”

Your heart freezes in your chest. “You can’t mean to say that the Viscount is not a suitable bachelor? What else could he be?”

The other woman sighs. “You don’t know, do you? My lady, I would not interfere if I did not feel the need, but I can assure you, his motives with you are purely mercenary. That man is desperate for something to cover up the follies of his family, and you, my dear, are the perfect gilded shield.”

You feel cold. “What follies?”

“His sister, Miss Sonya, was seen alone with her fiance,” your chaperone murmurs at last. “Lord Aris. I would think you would have heard his name, although perhaps not connected it with Viscount Newt. Miss Sonya and Lord Aris were happily engaged, and by all accounts it was a fine union, but they were seen together without a chaperone past dark. Quite the scandal. The Viscount knows it and is eager to get the ton talking about anything but his sister’s misdeeds. Entering into a courtship with you would do just the trick.”

She’s right, and you know it, and you hate it. “He seemed so genuine,” you whisper, and instantly know how foolish it sounds.

Your chaperone, to her credit, is kind enough to take pity on you. “He did,” she tells you, “and you looked happy together. You would be less happy, however, when you found out the truth. I would rather you know now and stay away. Men like that are nothing but trouble.”

You nod solemnly, turning your head to watch the dark landscapes rumbling past. The sun is already beginning to rise, a hallmark of a late night out. It had been a beautiful night up until this, and now the entire evening is ruined in your mind.

“I feel for Miss Sonya,” you whisper. “She was already engaged. They were just talking.”

“She knows the rules of society, and so do you,” your chaperone reminds you. “We all have our roles to play.”

And the consequence of setting a foot outside your role is instant public mortification. Yes. What a forgiving world. You immediately plant your exhausted body in your bed when you return, hardly sparing the time to wash and dress, but the only things to bloom from your rest are troubled dreams of the boy that could have been yours. Now that you know the truth– that Newt was only trying to use you for a better reputation– every interaction with him is tainted.

You’d meant what you said in the carriage, though. You did think Newt was genuine. Hadn’t he laughed more than usual when he was with you? Hadn’t he regarded you with that fierce pride of his, as if he’d finally found a mind that was an equal to his? Hadn’t he watched you with something akin to jealousy when you danced with the other men that weren’t him?

Hadn’t you wished he would only dance with you? And don’t you wish that you could truly do what you promised yourself and marry only for love, never mind the rest? It is a simple dream to think that love is easy. Marriage is not simple, not in the ton, not in your lifetime. Every one of your days will be shaped by the whims of society, even when they take Newt away from you.

When it comes time for the next ball, you do your best to strengthen your spirits before you go. You intentionally avoid him, making sure to always have your dance card full whenever the music ends. It’s easy enough to find a crowd large enough to hide you from him, and yet you still catch glimpses of Newt from across the hall, several partners down, in a carriage many behind yours. You successfully go two balls, then three, without seeing him, but it aches like a knife in your ribs when you think about what could have been.

As it turns out, you’re not the only one wishing you were with him. At the fifth ball of the season, your attempts to distance yourself from the viscount are foiled at last. Newt tracks you down, signing his name on your dance card before you can stop him before leading you out to the dance floor.

“That’s a rather abrupt way of asking a lady to dance, don’t you think?” You ask as you curtsy.

Newt bows. “I felt it was the only way of guaranteeing that you would dance with me.”

“A lady never declines a gentleman in need of a dance,” you remind him.

The music picks up, and the two of you begin your paces. “A lady also never avoids a gentleman as thoroughly as you have at the last few balls,” Newt says. “Were it not for the fact that I know you to be as perfectly agreeable a duchess as there could ever be, I would say that it was personal.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, even with his hands on you, guiding you through the steps. “It’s not meant to work out, my lord. Us, I mean. We cannot forget the rules.”

When Newt speaks again, his voice sounds hurt. “Why not? Forgive me, my lady, but I remember what it was like that first night. You were happy. We were happy, and happy together. What changed?”

At last, you risk a glance towards him, and instantly regret it. Newt’s eyes are filled with genuine hurt. Are you wrong? Did he actually want you as more than a cover-up? “I heard about your sister,” you say as delicately as you can.

Still, Newt flinches as if you’ve hit him. “You don’t know the full story,” Newt says raggedly.

“Then tell me,” you beg him. “I would choose you if I could, but everyone seems to think that you are only interested in me to advance your station. Give me a reason to believe in you, not them.”

“I can’t say it here,” Newt whispers. 

“I can’t go somewhere with you alone,” you tell him quietly. “Especially not after what happened to your sister. You must tell me now, or we will never have another chance.”

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Once you agree, Newt begins to speak in a hushed whisper hardly audible to you, let alone the other couples around you. “Sonya is deeply in love with Lord Aris, and he is in love with her. So much so to the point that he has been battling a deep rage ever since that awful gossip rag, Lady Whistledown, slightly disparaged her last season. He took it upon himself to find out Lady Whistledown’s identity, and somehow, he did. The only problem is, Lady Whistledown is not someone Sonya would consider a friend. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of being anything less than perfect around that insidious writer, and he didn’t want to waste a moment. He called on her to meet with him as soon as possible. He didn’t think they would be seen, but they were, and of course Lady Whistledown ran with it to discredit them in case they would reveal her.”

You suck in a harsh breath. “It was never anything wrong, then. He merely wanted to protect her.”

Newt nods. “Lord Aris is a good man. He never would have done something like this if he realized how it would backfire. He regrets it daily, even though all he wanted to do was keep my sister safe. The ton knows their characters, too. Neither of them would do anything unseemly. The rumors diminish by the day, and soon, it will all be over. They will be happily married.”

He sighs and looks at you again. “I tell you this to explain myself, and to clear my name. I have nothing to hide from the situation with my sister and her future husband. In fact, it is only because they directly asked me not to spread this information that I haven’t gone public with the identity of Lady Whistledown herself to spare their reputations. I have nothing to fear, my lady. Certainly nothing that would make me risk the happiness of my marriage on a good rumor. I would court you because I have never met anyone like you before, nor do I think I ever will. You are utterly entrancing in every possible way. If you do not wish to be with me in that fashion, I would understand.”

You shake your head quickly. “I do want that, my lord. I want you.”

A careful smile slips across Newt’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you tell him. “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you at my presentation. I would have found you no matter what lies they spread.”

Newt grins. “I believe I have decided something important, my lady. About your inner nature.”

You arch a brow as he spins you. “And what is that?”

“You’re a hound,” he informs you matter-of-factly. “Sharp and bright. Brave, too. But, then again, I am a hound as well. We make quite the pair, I think.”

“I think so too,” you tell him. In the days to come, rumors will abound about the viscount and the duchess. At first, there will be surprise across the ton, but then, even the most tenacious of gossips will realize that this makes perfect sense. The most clever of men and the most ambitious of women, bound together in holy matrimony. Even the best of poets couldn’t concoct a story that beautiful.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

the maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors :)

Cuddling Costs Extra: It was an utterly stupid idea to hire a prostitute to cuddle on movie nights. But perhaps something good can come out of it after all. https://www.wattpad.com/story/116193428-cuddling-costs-extra-j-jk-ff

Man-Eater Hunting: Namjoon is never very aware of what he says when he’s drunk, and this time is no exception to that rule. Unknowingly, Joon creates a chain of events that lead to his youngest member actively chasing his best friend. All under the pretense that you’re an untouchable, unpleasable, man eater.  https://httpjungkookcom.tumblr.com/post/692893845087830016/man-eater-hunting-jjk-m

Run: Jungkook doesn't want you to leave him for some stupid karaoke party so he tries his best to make you stay. Although his intentions start out playful, they quickly grow corrupted, especially after your somewhat hurtful words. https://www.tumblr.com/idekhowtodothis/702653565156589568/run-jjk

Tales of Eros: Eros learns love is calculated, deliberate and a tiding storm when no amount of arrows can take him away from you. https://inkedtae.tumblr.com/post/642609445901352960/tales-of-eros-jjk

Golden Gills: Reader taunts Jungkook for being the new Teacher’s Assistant for her history class. She simply can’t stand a teacher’s pet. Jungkook can’t help but make her one.  https://inkedtae.tumblr.com/post/615555776590888960/golden-gills-jjk-m

Apodyopsis: Jungkook is a nude model in your art class. https://jeonsjiddies.tumblr.com/post/618504144757620736/apodyopsis-m-jjk

Take Me To Church: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk.  https://illneverrecover.tumblr.com/post/614946305251360768/pairing-jeon-jungkook-x-reader-genre-gangau

Youngblood: "I don’t care if he’s got the potential to be the next big thing. I’m done trying to chase a story that doesn’t exist. You’re going to send me to five of his concerts and I can already tell you how each one is going to go. He’s a wannabe bad boy who jizzes his pants when he sees a girl looking at him. Assign me someone else.” https://jinned.tumblr.com/post/188618632439/youngblood-jungkook-m

Glitter & Disquiet: Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumors, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love. https://joheunsaram.tumblr.com/post/652203565366083584/glitter-and-disquiet-jjk-1

Happy Birthday Loser: After three years of simping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration. https://jungk0oksthighs.tumblr.com/post/694133180600664064/happy-birthday-loser-jjk-x-reader-18

[wildesqdreams]

midnight drop

pairing - grayson hawthorne x reader.

summary - a late-night swim in the swimming pool after the shocking will reading doesn't help grayson cool down, but it's a good thing that his girlfriend is there to help.

warnings - spoilers from the book "inheritance games", shirtless grayson + kissing.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: my first grayson fic has finally arrived, yeyeyeyeye :)) i also have to read the third book, but i don't want to, because I don't want the series to end.

y/n sat on the edge of the swimming pool. the sky was dark, but not pitch black, because the stars were visible. even though the girl felt at peace, she felt slight waves crash against her legs, making her lip corners lift.

the reason she was out at midnight was because of her boyfriend. grayson hawthorne. her eyes followed his figure in the water.

swimming laps was his way to relax. to clear his mind. but it was visible that he couldn't get the shocking news from today out of his mind.

even though he wouldn't admit it, y/n knew he was quite upset. she could tell by his tensed muscles and by the tone of his voice, as he spoke, filling in the silence.

the fortune that he should have inherited from his grandfather. the things that he should have gotten, for his hard work and his wasted time, were given to a random girl named, avery. and the question was - why?

why would someone leave something so meaningful to a random person? but in the hawthorne house surprises and mysteries were a normal thing, so the girl couldn't help but smile, when she heard her boyfriend, for the thousand time, talk about how the girl had seduced or manipulated him.

"what?" grayson noticed the grin on the girl's face.

"nothing."

"then what's so funny?" he slightly furrowed his eyebrows as he stopped swimming.

she just shrugged with a smile still on her face.

"y/n."

his stare was intense.

the kind of intense that made grayson stand out. that stare that made others feel threatened or powerless, but for the girl, it was like she was the only girl he could see, while the world slowly disappeared, "it just humerus me how you think that she manipulated your grandfather because he was the real mastermind."

"so funny," he stated, as he rolled his eyes.

she could feel the annoyance in his tone, which made her want to tease him even more, so she continued, "that's what i'm saying."

but for some reason his next move wasn't the one she taught it would be - him getting more frustrated - but instead grayson started swimming towards her, "mhm, yeah, really funny."

"wha- what are you doing?"

"nothing," he said calmly, with a small smile.

sensing that he was up to something, she started to take her leg out of the pool so she could get away, but before the girl could do that, y/n felt the boy's wet hand on her leg, holding her in place, "gray..."

"mhm?" his hands slowly traveled up her thighs to her waist.

"what are you planning?"

a smirk appeared on his face and she felt his hands grip her sides tighter, "i just want to laugh too."

"wait grayson-" but her words were silenced when she felt the cold water.

her clothes, face, and hair were soaked. y/n felt the coldness against her skin, hitting every nerve, that made her immediately come up from underwater.

the girl saw her boyfriend laughing and she splashed water on him, "you idiot!" but that didn't stop his laughter, "it's not funny you asshole!"

"oh, but it is," he chuckled, as he reached for her.

when she felt grayson's hand grab her side, y/n removed from his touch "don't touch me."

the boy smirked, "you mad, princess?"

"fuck off."

"that's quite hard when you're so beautiful," he reached for her side again.

"i'm wet," y/n stated in a serious tone, but when she saw the boy's eyebrows slightly lift, the girl immediately said, "not like that!"

"i didn't say anything," he pulled her closer with a grin on his face.

y/n rested her head on his shoulder, so he wouldn't see her tinted face, "i'm still mad," her hands wrapped around his waist.

"oh, really?"

the girl hummed. she felt his hand move slowly up and down her side.

"well, there's no need to be. i didn't do anything," he added.

she pulled back and stared at him, her arms remaining in their place, "oh, really?" the girl said the same words as he.

grayson gave her a small smile, before leaning in and capturing her lips in his. he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her, so the girl could wrap her legs around his waist.

y/n's arms wrapped around his neck, "i despise you," she murmured in the kiss.

grayson started to trail kisses down her jaw towards her neck, "we both know that's a lie, princess."

and it was because y/n y/l/n would die for him. her heart beat for him and he was her home. her safety. grayson hawthorne felt the same. that's why their love for each other was magnificent.

"well maybe now you're right," the girl murmured.

he disattached his lips from her skin and looked at her, "i'm always right," and with that, he leaned in for another kiss.

[ackerfics]

my love is mine all mine ch 3 | toji fushiguro x female reader

part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.

series summary:

'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.

and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.

chapter title: the answer will be an echo: why did you do this?

warnings: the zen'in clan.

Your sister inherited the Joushou clan’s cursed technique.

It’s an announcement that has any member of your family reeling. What a waste, they say. This could have been phenomenal if not for the sex of the child. What good would a woman have if they assume the position of heir to a powerful clan that owns shrines of purification for generations? And with the head’s reluctance in re-marrying another pitiful woman, there is no chance that a son will be celebrated, which brings you at this moment—holding your little sister who was given the role of the heir a few months ago. It’s something that you have to accept for you have no ability to create a field of reversed cursed technique that can nullify any nearby techniques.

Four years have gone and your sister celebrated four birthdays with only you and a couple of loyal maids by her side. Your father, being the head of the clan, has growing paperwork and responsibilities on top of his desk with the passing years. Now older, your father has been scrambling with marriage proposals from other clans, all vying to have you in their hold — their riches on his table.

A wife. Pliant, obedient, meek, poised, virtuous; are some of the traits expected of you. They are drilled in your head every time you have lessons with your current tutor, a lady from one of the Joushou branch households, one Lady Yukina. Despite the harshness of the lessons she brings, she might be the only old lady who has never looked at you with disdain. Her gaze fills with understanding and sometimes sympathy when she reminds you that you have to be a woman fit for the jujutsu society.

You have long since understood that even with a title to your name, you are not safe from the whims of men. You remain as a piece in their games, meant to be broken when Time and Fate are not merciful to your soul. You know it—after all, your mother has lived long enough to tell the tale.

The Hanamo clan has always stood as the harbinger of a new generation of sorcerers, as the historians so love to write about in their scriptures. 

The ancestry flowing in your veins is proof that you will always be tied to the workings of the jujutsu world, that you will be a slave to the norms delegated by the higher-ups who uphold the traditions of time immemorial. It continues to resemble the essence of your existence. Without it, you are nothing but a husk—tossed aside for lacking purpose. To put it bluntly, you don’t want to be a wife if it means having a life lived by your mother. You are older now and aside from gaining marriage proposals, you have gained this awareness that not even your father can prevent. You wish to enjoy what they call middle school. At your age, you can’t help but think that maybe you could have been a senior. You want to join clubs, stay at school after classes, or go to cram school because you want to enter a prestigious high school. You long to experience staying up late and getting confession letters in lockers—feel the giddiness stolen glances in a room brings.

However, since Fate is not kind to girls like you, you are stuck here letting the wind carry your thoughts.

“Onee-chan!” 

“Hmm?”

You are drawn to reality at the sound of your precious little sister’s voice.

“What is it, Tiny?”

She giggles, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in happiness at the syllables of her nickname from you. The little girl of four bounds over to the picnic blanket that you are sitting on, the constricting material of the kimono around her figure preventing her from running too wildly. You carefully watch her, your arms stretching out and torso leaning forward when she nearly topples to the ground. The sigh of relief your chest has been holding is let out when she is secure in your arms, which is then followed by a small huff since she has been getting bigger. The little girl in your embrace places her chin on your chest, her pudgy cheeks pressing against you. “Onee-chan’s sadness, go away. I don’t want Onee-chan to be sad.”

You hum, your smile mirroring hers. “Why would I be sad when I have the cutest, most special girl in my arms?”

She squeals when your fingers start tickling her sides.

“Onee-chan, no!” Her voice is being carried by the wind, gleefully intermingling with the melody of the breeze. “Stop it!”

Laughter continues to bubble in your throat. A huge surge of warmth prompts you to lean down to press your forehead against your sister’s. “Why would I be sad when I get to see the most precious thing smile and laugh?” You nuzzle your nose on her hair. She always smells of something citrus and sweet, a combination fitting for the reason behind your smiles. “Tiny, your existence is enough to drive the sadness away. Nothing can make me shed tears if you’re here by my side.”

“Did Mama feel like that about me?” The slightest falter in your demeanour is unnoticed by your sister. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make Onee-chan sad again.”

“What?” You breathe out. You try painting a smile on your lips. “I’m not sad.”

“You are!” She retorts with an adorable scrunch on her nose. “The flowers never lie, Onee-chan! They always lose their colour when you’re sad.” You don’t even have to ask how your sister knows about your connection with the flowers in the garden because she continues explaining in a tone that is awfully similar to Father when he was still instilling the ways of the clans in you when you were a child. “Aida-san told me that Mama’s family speaks to flowers. I know Onee-chan can speak to them, too, and just like me, they feel sad when Onee-chan is sad.”

“I do have a smart girl for a baby sister,” you muse, running your hand through her hair. “Yes, Mama could speak with any kind of plant you can think of and I know that your existence is something she asked for; she prayed every night for you to be here. You are her precious little dewdrop—I know it because the flowers told me so. Mama talked to them while she was carrying you in her tummy, you see.”

“Was she happy when she had me?”

The smile on your face never dims. “ Super happy,” you make sure to emphasise the first word.

“Were you happy?”

“The happiest big sister in the world.”

“I’m happy you’re my big sister, too!”

Your bottom lip wobbles, quickly hiding it by burying the toddler back into your arms. “You’re so cute, Tiny! Ah,” you sigh out, “I don’t ever want you to grow up; I want you to stay this little forever.” Your tiny dewdrop that you can carry in your arms forever, a place where she truly belongs and will remain untainted by the world revolving around you two.

“But I want to grow up!”

This surprises you. “Why, Tiny?”

She beams, “Because I get to be with you more! You’re always away with Papa and I’m all alone. If I’m grown up, I will be by your side more often.”

You give her a rueful smile. Your hand perfectly cups the side of her head as if both are puzzle pieces fitted with each other. “I can’t wait to see you in the future; but for now, I’ll cherish you like this. Because you want to know a little secret?” The smile on your face grows at the sparkles lighting up your baby sister’s eyes. They seem to gleam like jewels within a pool of moonlight. The hand cupping her face transfers to cover her ear, your voice dropping into a whisper purely for the two of you to hear—not even the flowers can be a witness to your little secret. “Nothing in this world truly belongs to me except my love for you, owner of my heart and my tiny dewdrop. You are the one gift Mother gave to me and I don’t know what I’d do if you slip from my fingers too soon. Let me love you as my baby sister and let Time pass by the way it always does. Alright?”

A sheen then covers your sister’s eyes as she stares at you in pure, adulterated emotions that a four-year-old like her can muster.

“I love you so much, Tiny—always remember that, okay?”

She meekly nods, your words flustering her cheeks in a faint surge of heat. “I love you, too, Onee-chan.”

It’s you two against the entire world. Despite how the circumstances bring you your sister, you will never love her any less. You may have familial burdens to carry on your poised shoulders, they don’t include the most precious treasure to you at the moment. 

The moment is shattered when the flowers slightly express their disappointment before you can sense the pattern of footsteps behind you.

“Ojou-sama, Lord Yoshiki is summoning you to his office,” Aida, a maid that you have grown quite fond of through the years, tells you, her head low like the head maid has taught her during her initiation—always show reverence to the members of the main family; they are your benefactor, your salvation, your puppeteers.

“Did he say why, Aida-san?” You pry from her, your arms still around the girl nestling on your lap.

The woman shakes her head. “No, Ojou-sama. But if it helps ease your mind, he is not in a troubled mood.” A knowing glint sparks her eyes as she trails them on the swaying vermillion blades dancing by her feet. 

“Very well,” is all you offer to her as a response. You turn to your baby sister, who is already pouting at the thought of spending the rest of her afternoon in solitude. “Tiny, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She is looking at you like she’s begging for you not to leave her alone and that alone nearly shatters your resolve. As the only child aware of the workings of the clan, you must attend to Father’s summons. Your sister will have this role in the future but for now, even with no shed of the Joushou’s cursed technique in your veins, you should do your duty. So, you carefully lift her from your lap before settling her feet on the grass. “I promise we’ll eat your favourites later.”

“And watch Sanrio?”

The smile on your face grows. Ah, your obsession with that cartoon and its characters; it’s purely the reason why your sister adores the white long-eared puppy as well. You, yourself have developed a liking toward the hooded bunny and the golden retriever characters. “And watch Sanrio,” you echo after her. 

“Yay!” She cheers, her hands high in the air and her smile bright enough to illuminate an abyss.

You let go of her small hands before turning around to face the maid sent to escort you to where Father is. “Take me to him, Aida.”

“As you wish, Ojou-sama.”

The walk is silent—you can even hear the grating of the wood against a sudden gust of wind, bringing the scent of cherry blossoms in the air.

Ah, it's spring without your mother again. 

You remember watching her work wonders in the gardens during this lucky season of the year. The pinks the entire world is waiting to sprout are sitting on top of Mother’s palms, the small spark of her cursed technique speaking with the roots and the trunks until all you can see are raining petals of cherry and plum blossoms. You never once looked forward to spring again after her passing. But there is an undeniable clench in your chest when you think about your baby sister never sharing the same enthusiasm about that season; she doesn’t get to press her face on the glass windows at her age every time spring knocks on your household’s door.

The scent of the flowers die down when the shoji doors to Father’s office slide open.

“You called for me, Father?”

The image of your father has long since dwindled. He was never the same again since the death of Mother. The elders have always expressed their bafflement at him refusing another proposal to be remarried. The clan needs male heirs, they say, one that can withstand even the next strongest sorcerer to be born. His previous impeccable appearance is replaced by a rugged man with the constant presence of stubbles and hastily tied hair. There are no elaborate kimonos; instead, he is often dressed in rather simple hakamas, but that doesn’t betray his station. He is still the head of the Joushou clan, the only clan to have ever survived the Domain Expansion of the recorded strongest sorcerer across centuries. 

Father doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You are dismissed,” he directs the words to the maid who escorted you.

You flash Aida an imperceptible smile right after she bows her head as lowly as she can without toppling over. Her footsteps are silent and she leaves behind you and the man who will decide your fate.

“Who is it this time?” You still fix your eyes on the hardwood panels of the floor. 

The sigh that comes out of Father amounts to the weight he carries after reading the papers on his hand. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he fishes out an unsealed piece of paper from a nearby stack and throws it on the table.

You walk to the edge of his desk to catch a glimpse of the sender. Something pulses inside you at the implications the letter’s seal brings. You know it’s inevitable to be tied to this family and you have long accepted it but that doesn’t prevent the trepidation clogging your throat. “The Zen’in?”

After you make it real by uttering the syllables of their name, Father pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched in an uneasy exhibition of pain. “I’m sure you remember that Zen’in Ougi’s wife died a few months before.” Your silence is an enough answer for Father to continue. The memory of attending the funeral is still fresh in your mind and there’s no mistaking the reeking disappointment coming from the clan elders of the Zen’in. Another wife gone; another chance for a holder of the Ten Shadows lost. “They want you as his second wife.” His fists clench on top of the papers.

You’re quiet for a moment. “Can I read it, Father?”

Father waves his hand.

The sound of crinkling paper fills the room. You flip the folded flaps of the letter. The tidy calligraphy starts by addressing your father. Your eyes skim over saccharine words crafted to impress him.

The letter opens with the head of the Zen’in clan iterating that this is the perfect opportunity for the Joushou clan to enter the inner circles of the jujutsu society.

It goes on by saying that if the Gojos never had that pesky godling born in the same year as your little sister, your clan would have made it within the triad of jujutsu families, even rivalling the authority established by the Kamos. Pity that the Gojo clan beat your family by a hairbreadth and pity that the inheritor of the Purification Technique is of the lowly sex. You take a glance at Father, knowing that this section of the letter is the reason behind the tick in his jaw. You continue on reading how the children from this union would be the leaders of the next generation of jujutsu. With the Glorified Womb and a carrier of the Ten Shadows Technique, it is bound to be fruitful—the most awaited heir of the Zen’in clan won’t just be a figment of someone’s imagination.

We hope this is met with utmost consideration. After all, this is the pinnacle we are both waiting for. Wed your bloomed flower to my youngest son and all will be well—you will be compensated handsomely. Everything you could think of, we will provide as long as they belong to our capabilities. Do not make the wrong decision, Joushou. The fate of your clan rests on your word. 

“This is not in my position to ask but,” you start, lifting your head from trailing your eyes over every well-crafted, harsh word the Zen’in sent, “Father, tell me you’re not going to consider this?” He doesn’t offer a response. He simply stares at a spot on his desk, his hands woven over his mouth. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place the letter on the furniture separating you from him. “Father.” The man goes on to blankly stare at you. At the silence, your voice gains volume. “He’s the same age as Uncle Hatsugu!” He stands up from his seat, lifting his chin in the air while you feel tears peeking through your bottom eyelids. At the stony facade he dons, you slowly shake your head. “Father, no. No, no, no!”

Father merely blinks. The previous tension weighing on his shoulders vanishes and in front you is the man who thought it was best to force your mother to bear the son he wanted. “[Name].”

“Please tell me you haven’t—”

“It’s the Zen’in.”

“But that doesn’t mean—!”

“You will have four years.”

Standing in this room with him becomes suffocating with each passing second. Marrying young has always been the culture in your hidden world. Women are a commodity. You hope that because Father was kind enough to tell you of each suitor sending their letters, he will also be kind enough to reject them until you have fully lived your life. “Please,” one word is all you can say. And if that isn’t enough for Father, you try to convince him with your eyes. Yet the more you look at him, all ready to kneel and plead to give back your girlhood, you gradually understand that you have no choice. Father looks like he’s seen a ghost within you. The shock morphs into rage, then, later calms into a quiet nothing that rings so loud your tears cascade on your cheeks. “I-I don’t want this, Father. The Zen’ins—”

“Are a respectful family that is worth leagues more than ours,” he finishes. “They stand as what orthodox should be in our world. This,” he taps his forefinger on the letter, “is just the beginning, [Name]. We are nearing the pinnacle of jujutsu in this generation and it starts with your marriage to this man.” You open your mouth to retaliate. He cuts you off from speaking with a hand. “You are someone born in my family. Do your duty just like any other woman before you.”

“Just listen to me—”

“Am I clear, [Name]?” Father fixes a wide-eyed glare at you. “You didn’t inherit your mother’s viability for heirmaking for nothing. This is your purpose. Whatever fantasies you have running in that head of yours, cease it. Do you understand?” 

You don’t answer him.

“[Name].”

Flinching at the way he says your name, you look down at your feet.

“Do not make me angry; we both know that it won’t end in your favour.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “I understand, Father.”

“Good.” Then, he waves you away. “Go. I have a letter to reply to.”

You don’t know where your feet take you. After the shoji doors slide shut behind you, you are floating. You see and hear nothing. When you lift your head from mindlessly tracing the ground you walk on, you are outside in the gardens, the little girl you left behind earlier still in the same place. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps but you don’t give her a chance to call you because you pull her into your arms. You can feel her pressing her cheeks against yours and it hurts. You bury your face in her hair, your embrace fully encompassing her from the world. The air smells of hellebore and amidst the lake of white and purple, a clump of begonia stands as a beacon.

Toji spits out blood on the blades of grass surrounding the Zen’in estate. Imposing eyes follow him from the visible hallways of the traditional Japanese household. He can already assume what they are whispering about— the black sheep of the family is at it again, disappearing in random hours of the day and coming back all bloody like he wants to taint our sacred home . Toji clicks his tongue at the thought and by doing so, irritating his split gums, which irritates him even more. He couldn’t care less. Let them talk, let them paint him into their version of a devil, let them say that he’s the curse of the family; to Hell with all of them.

He keeps on walking until he reaches the nearest entrance to his father’s wing, where his side of the family resides. The maids scurry away from his path and the only sound accompanying him to his destination is the jingle of charms dangling from his wallet. It’s jarring, how stark the various shades of pink and blue are against his dark garb. If he is one of the nosier women in the estate, he would have questioned it as well. The carved flowers make a nice melody with each step and they all sing something that’s purely her . Because that’s the reason why the hanging charms are in his pocket—they’re all for her , the precious doll of the Joushou clan and the belle of everyone’s ball, including his. Even as he let himself loose by facing a dozen curses in an abandoned hospital, he still managed to think of something so soft, a feat in itself that he never thought possible for someone like him.

It’s a miracle that nothing intercepted him. Usually, during his excursions, Jinichi would make himself known and throw remarks that would have the two of them grappling for the first punch. This time around, none of the notable people in his family lurks around the corner, waiting for their moment to strike. It’s peaceful for once and Toji doesn’t know how it makes him feel.

“You.”

A maid squeaks when Toji’s gaze falls on her.

“Where are the others?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She can’t fully look him in the eye.

“I’m fucking talking to you,” comes from Toji’s mouth.

With a hitched breath, the maid answers, “They’re all gathering in the Master's office.”

“The old man is dying; what are they gathering there for?”

The maid grips the edges of her cheap uniform, creating creases that would surely earn her some nagging from the matron of housekeeping. Locking eyes with him is a mistake because she starts sweating even though this part of the estate hasn’t met any heaters in the last few months. Perks of being the most favourite disappointments. Toji carefully wraps his hand around the kanzashi nestled inside his pocket, the ornaments it carries caressing his skin. This is taking too long. Then, the maid stutters, “I-I heard they received a message regarding a marriage proposal.”

“Who?”

“I-I don’t know, Sir.”

Toji lets out a mirthless laugh. “It’s bitchy Ogi, isn’t it? Should’ve known.”

The maid keeps quiet with her head down. Without addressing her any further, Toji walks past her and makes his way to the main wing of the estate. 

Despite saying that he doesn’t care for the inner workings of their clan, he can’t help but feel amusement for another failed marriage to surface. After his newest aunt’s funeral, all anticipation and hope for the clan’s future has been sucked dry. Pity that these women are sent to this wretched family, hoping to at least be treated as royalty. All they got is the constant spiel that they are far beneath their husbands even though they share a last name through marriage. Toji’s mother was one of those women. And Heaven forbid, another tombstone will be added to the clan’s guarded cemetery with this letter.

With silent footsteps, Toji leaned on the wall next to the sliding doors of his grandfather’s office with his arms crossed on his chest.

“—Can’t tell me this is fucking fair!”

His father.

“You have not proven yourself worthy for this, Ichiro.”

The wheezing gives it away.

Booming laughter erupts from behind the closed doors, followed by a guzzling of a drink. “If only your wife died before giving birth to two failures, one of which is standing with us in this room also vying for this girl’s hand in marriage. Would you look at that, you two are almost twins sneering at me like that!” Another round of cackles from his alcoholic uncle. “You would have a chance with this girl who’s even younger than your sons! Ha! Just saying that makes me want to puke—”

“Not in here, Naobito,” a warning from Grandfather.

“—the contents of my stomach.

“Like Ogi is any better.”

“Do not bring me in your squabble,” says a calm, grating voice.

“I still believe this is something you have planned to dethrone me from my chance of being the heir. Are you that threatened by my son’s manifestation of cursed energy?”

Ogi scoffs. Toji imagines him lifting his chin in the air—the arrogant bastard. “It’s not my fault you are hindered by the existence of your precious child. Or do you regret ever siring him for a chance at a young girl? I’d say you are a hypocrite, brother.”

“Say that to my face, you little piece of shit!”

“Father, why not Jinichi?” Toji’s father tries pulling the tides in their favour. “They are close in age. My son developed a technique uniquely his, a promising one that would shake the other clans if he would inherit the position of heir. Why not give him this girl as a chance to redeem our bloodline? The future user of the Ten Shadows Technique will surely emerge from their coupling.”

“It is true that our family has established a hierarchy unlike the others,” the senile man coughs out, “but I would never waste something worth more than diamonds on your dying bloodline.” Toji can hear his father raising his voice while his older uncle cackles in glee. If only he’s not carrying treasure in the depths of his pockets, he would have bled through his pants with how tight he’d be clenching his hands. “Compared to Ogi, your son’s technique is nothing. My son has gained a reputation from the higher-ups of our world, a feat your son could only dream of. What Ogi can do will only be the catalyst in a fruitful union.” There is a pause. “And there is the case of your other child. What’s to say Jinichi is tainted by his younger brother? Don’t even make me begin on how that abomination always succeeds in being the family’s blunder. I have presented the letter for her hand in marriage with Ogi in mind and no one else. Do not make me exert my power over you, Ichiro, because you are nothing but a failure to me.”

“Father, you surely know how to knock down someone,” Naobito says in mirth.

Toji is still against the wall of the old man’s office. His hands are itching on pummeling something to the ground. Fucking elders and their ridiculous degrading words—they make him want to wring their necks and feed them to the curses they keep in the basement. Toji wants nothing more than to witness the light dim and eventually flicker out from this senile man’s eyes. Heat starts travelling all the way to the tips of his ears. Hearing everything urges his body to retreat in his room and wallow in self-pity. But anger gets the best of him, always. This fucking family and their superiority will be the death of them; he is already cursing them. They would ask for Heaven for what he is doing to them in his head. Then again, Hell would probably be Heaven for them for all the grotesque things they do behind closed doors. 

“Then, it’s final. Ogi will wed Joushou [Name] the moment she turns eighteen. This is the pinnacle of jujutsu and I expect nothing but congratulations from you pitiful fools.”

That is the moment Toji realised, he would take down the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.

Notes:

in the victorian language of flowers, hellebore can mean 'we can overcome scandal and slander'. when paired with begonias in a bouquet, it brings a reminder that future challenges will arise.

taglist (send an ask or a reply if you want to be added !! )

@booblikerlhc @sugutoad @sakuralikestars @fandomfloozy @the2ndl @silent-sondering @idktbhloley @ruixrei @m0nsterzl0ve @mooniro @kenstarsworld @bealiz13 @viclentdeliqhts @elisaa-shelby @oh1boy @wonderland173

[middlingmay]

Single dad Gale x Baseball coach Bucky AU Part 3 (Finale!)

Read Part 1 here.

Read part 2 here

Amie is convinced her dad is starting to get suspicious.

She saw the way he stared at Coach Egan when he picked her up from school. He barely blinked. He was definitely getting suspicious.

The Coach Egan tells the team their first game is in four weeks, and a very big clock in Amie's head starts to tick.

Because she's excited about the game and she wants her dad there. But when he finds out she lied, she's positive it's going to be one of the rare times he absolutely loses it.

Then, her next day in school Coach Egan wants to see her after practice. And he doesn't tip toe around the subject.

"Why does your dad think I'm your track coach, Amie?"

A habit she'd inherited from her dad, Amie flushes read like she's just been caught in the cookie jar. She tries to stammer and bluster her way out of it, but there's no mirth on coach's face and she stops talking completely.

"Does he even know you're on the team?"

She shakes her head.

"He should. He'd be proud of you."

She doesn't mean to scoff but it comes out anyway. Her dad will be too busy being furious to be proud of anything.

And that's when Coach Egan upends her whole twelve-year-old world.

"You tell about the team, and have him sign a new slip, which he'll hand in to me himself by next practice. Or I'm sorry Amie, but you can't be on the team. And I'll have tell your dad about this myself."

She doesn't like this stern side of the coach and runs out of his office upset and embarrassed.

At home, she storms right up to her room, ignoring her dad calling after her.

After a good scream into her pillow, she writes I Hate Coach Egan several times over in her journal. But then she feels terrible and rips the page out and stuffs it in the trash.

She resolves that she's not going to next practice, or any practice ever again, so there's nothing to tell her dad. It breaks her heart a little (a lot), but she'd rather that than face the music.

It takes her dad a few days to clock on. But he does notice her despondency. When he asks about track which usually always has her so chipper, she tells him she was cut from the team.

Gale is incensed and threatens to march down to the school and give them a piece of his mind. But Amie begs him not to and he reluctantly agrees.

Until he finds a crumpled up bit of paper that says I Hate Coach Egan on it over and over again.

He takes a day off work - a day he knows Amie never used to have practice and schedules a meeting with Egan for 11am when she's still in class.

He storms into that office and Egan goes from pleased to alarmed in half a second.

"What the hell did you say to my girl?!"

Egan looks a little miffed himself at that and starts to get out of his chair, but Gale slams the bit of paper down on his desk.

Egan looks at it and frowns, and dares to look hurt, even. "Jeez, Cleven. A little harsh."

And that unleashes all of Gale's fury. He lets all his frustrations out and berates Egan for getting kids' hopes up and claiming to build their confidence, only to tear them all down. Only caring about winning and not about the kids. He calls Egan callous and cruel and grits his teeth and clenches his fists to stop himself from reaching across the table and strangling this man.

When he says Amie refuses to so much as even talk about track anymore, Egan finally cuts him off.

"That's what she told you? Track? Do I look like a track coach to you? Buck, I only run if there's a base at the other end or there's a dog on my ass."

Gale does not understand a single word he's saying. "What?"

"Bad weekend in Germany." The Egan calls in the Assistant Coach and tells him to fetch Amelie Cleven, pronto. "I think you're better hearing this from her," he says.

He invites Gale to sit but he doesn't. He just stares at Egan, half scowling, half bewildered until finally a very sorry looking Amie is ushered into the office.

She refuses to look at her dad or Coach Egan, but the latter is well versed in sullen pre-teens by now. He asks Amie if there's anything she wants to tell her dad. Gale wants to tell him to back off, but he sees how guilty Amie looks and he doesn't know which way is up.

"What is going on, Amie?"

And it all comes spilling out. Amie loving baseball and knowing he wouldn't approve of her trying out, never mind joining the team. About forging his signature on the permission slip for try outs (John shows him the form) and lying to him for weeks.

Gale hasn't ever felt such a mix of sadness, disappointment, anger and guilt. But it's all aimed at himself. He feels like a failure, that his daughter didn't feel like she could come to him. And that she was probably right - he wouldn't have reacted well.

"You shouldn't have lied to me, Amie," is all he can say.

Amie's eyes fill with tears and Gale thinks his might, too, and Egan gently breaks in.

"Mr Cleven. I know it's not my business. But Amie is good. Really good. And the team love her. you said yourself that she enjoys it and it's helped her build confidence. is it really so bad if she plays?"

Gale's slumped on the chair in front of Egan's desk and Amie sidles up to him and plays with the hem of his sleeve like she's not sure she's allowed.

"I'm sorry I lied. But I really want to play, daddy."

An oh, she hasn't called him daddy in years. She knows, it, he knows it, and judging by the smirk Egan is trying to hide, he goddamn knows it to. But she's pulling out the big guns.

Gale can't help himself. Never can when it comes to his daughter. He folds her into his arms and holds her tight. He murmurs his own apologies into Amie's ear and where she can't see, he waves for Egan to get him a fresh slip and a pen.

Gale gently pushes Amie back and holds up the other piece of paper that brought him here. "I think you have something to say to Coach Egan, don't you?"

Flush and wide-eyed, Amie rushes out, "I don't hate you! Was...just mad when you said I couldn't play 'less my dad said so."

Egan accepts her apology gracefully and tells her he expects her at the next practice, and she can stay late to help him clean up to make up for everything - and Gale agrees.

Equal amounts relieved and humbled, Gale ushers Amie back to class, and mumbles a very hasty goodbye to Egan. Without looking him in the eye, he beats a hasty retreat

He's outside and halfway back to his car when he hears, "Mr Cleven!" behind him.

Egan jogs after him and stops a foot away, hands on his hips.

"I can't keep calling you Mr Cleven. What's your name?"

"Gale."

Without missing a beat, Egan says, "Nice to meet you, Buck. Name's John."

And then Gale is trying to stumble out an apology. "Look. I'm sorry I -"

"Can I take you out?"

Gale feels thoroughly derailed. "I..is that - is that allowed?"

John says "Yes!" very quickly and is almost shy as he rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, I mean, I can check. Again."

Despite himself, Gale chuckles. He feels a thrill of excitement and nerves. He's not dated anyone since Marge. But John is beautiful and charming and apparently very forgiving.

So he bites his lip and cocks his head and says, "Sure. Let's paint the town red."

-

Fin.