#that fees unfair

[aropride]

colleges are like did you sign the Go fuck yourself paperwork yet. and youll be like yeah i did i gave it to you three weeks ago less than an hour after you sent it to me. and they're like Well we didn't get it 😒 so you have 12 hours to do that or we're kicking you out of your classes and housing and shooting you in the head and throwing your body in the sea to be eaten by piranhas btw.. like Well i sent it to you and got the email confirmation that it was submitted idk what to tell you.

[robinsnest2111]

oh well, guess I can't watch the passenger even if I could get into my father's account BECAUSE IT'S NOT AVAILABLE IN GERMANY APPARENTLY

fucking hell man........

[blacksailsgf]

i need to step up my redbubble game. some of these fuckers really just upload shit like anne carson's name in plain black arial font slapped onto a white shirt & call it a day

[drewsaturday]

I am still so pissed off about that gift card I was supposed to get from that program actually now that I finally got a response. "We were only allotted a particular amount" then why were we all told we'd be getting it and why was I left out after attending every session and extra meeting we had to have bc everyone else kept missing sessions. You'd think I would be one of the people to get one then in that case.

[impossible-rat-babies]

eyrie truly does kinda detest thancred at parts in ShB HUH

[opencommunion]

"The story of  'John Doe 1' of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer. In a country where the earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks.  But soon after he began working for roughly two U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered. 

The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making the conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets. In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo.

As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns.

Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement. ... While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities. 'Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,' explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are 'refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.'

... Of the 255,000 Congolese mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence. Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence. ... Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100% tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S. Currently, China owns about 80% of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese work in 'artisanal' mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports.  'Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,' wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. 'It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.' While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy."

[fatehbaz]

Good question:

In the United States, many jails and prisons can and will charge you money for every single night that you spend imprisoned, for the entire duration of your incarceration, as if you were being billed for staying at a hotel. Even if you are incarcerated for years. Adding up to tens of thousands of dollars. What happens when you’re released?

In response to this:

---

So.

You’re getting charged, like, ten dollars every time you even submit a request form to possibly be seen by a doctor or dentist.

You’re getting charged maybe five dollars for ten minutes on the phone.

Any time a friend or family tries to send you like five dollars so that you can buy some toothpaste or lotion, or maybe a snack from the commissary since you’re diabetic and the “meals” have left you malnourished, maybe half of that money gets taken as a “service fee” by the corporate contractor that the prison uses to manage your pre-paid debit card. So you’re already losing money every day just by being there.

What happens if you can’t pay?

In some places, after serving just a couple of years for drugs charges, almost 20 years after being released, the state can still hunt you down for over $80,000 that you “owe” as if it were a per-night room-and-board accommodations charge, like this recent highly-publicized case in Connecticut:

Excerpt:

Two decades after her release from prison, [TB] feels she is still being punished. When her mother died two years ago, the state of Connecticut put a lien on the Stamford home she and her siblings inherited. It said she owed $83,762 to cover the cost of her 2 1/2 year imprisonment for drug crimes. [...] “I’m about to be homeless,” said [TB], 58, who in March [2022] became the lead plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the state law that charges prisoners $249 a day for the cost of their incarceration. [...] All but two states have so-called “pay-to-stay” laws that make prisoners pay for their time behind bars [...]. Critics say it’s an unfair second penalty that hinders rehabilitation by putting former inmates in debt for life. Efforts have been underway in some places to scale back or eliminate such policies. Two states — Illinois and New Hampshire — have repealed their laws since 2019. [...] Pay-to-stay laws were put into place in many areas during the tough-on-crime era of the 1980s and ’90s, said Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology at University of Southern California who is leading a study of the practice. [...] Connecticut used to collect prison debt by attaching an automatic lien to every inmate, claiming half of any financial windfall they might receive for up to 20 years after they are released from prison [...].

Text by: Pat Eaton-Robb. “At $249 per day, prison stays leave ex-inmates deep in debt.” AP News / The Associated Press. 27 August 2022.

---

---

Look at this:

To help her son, Cindy started depositing between $50 to $100 a week into Matthew’s account, money he could use to buy food from the prison commissary, such as packaged ramen noodles, cookies, or peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. Cindy said sending that money wasn’t necessarily an expense she could afford. “No one can,” she said. So far in the past month, she estimates she sent Matthew close to $300. But in reality, he only received half of that amount. The balance goes straight to the prison to pay off the $1,000 in “rent” that the prison charged Matthew for his prior incarceration. [...] A PA Post examination of six county budgets (Crawford, Dauphin, Lebanon, Lehigh, Venango and Indiana) showed that those counties’ prisons have collected more than $15 million from inmates — almost half is for daily room and board fees that are meant to cover at least a portion of the costs with housing and food. Prisoners who don’t work are still expected to pay. If they don’t, their bills are sent to collections agencies, which can report the debts to credit bureaus. [...] Between 2014 and 2017, the Indiana County Prison — which has an average inmate population of 87 people — collected nearly $3 million from its prisoners. In the past five years, Lebanon’s jail collected just over $2 million in housing and processing fees.

Text by: Joseph Darius Jaafari. “Paying rent to your jailers: Inmates are billed millions of dollars for their stays in Pa. prisons.” WHYY (PBS). 10 December 2019. Originally published at PA Post.

---

Pay-to-stay, the practice of charging people to pay for their own jail or prison confinement, is being enforced unfairly by using criminal, civil and administrative law, according to a new Rutgers University-New Brunswick led study. The study [...] finds that charging pay-to-stay fees is triggered by criminal justice contact but possible due to the co-opting of civil and administrative institutions, like social service agencies and state treasuries that oversee benefits, which are outside the realm of criminal justice. “A person can be charged $20 to $80 a day for their incarceration,” said author Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology and a faculty affiliate of Rutgers' criminal justice program. “That per diem rate can lead to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees when a person gets out of prison. To recoup fees, states use civil means such as lawsuits and wage garnishment against currently and formerly incarcerated people, and regularly use administrative means such as seizing employment pensions, tax refunds and public benefits to satisfy the debt.” [...] Civil penalties are enacted on family members if the defendant cannot pay and in states such as Florida, Nevada and Idaho can occur even after the original defendant is deceased. [...]

Text by: Megan Schumann. “States Unfairly Burdening Incarcerated People With “Pay-to-Stay” Fees.” Rutgers press release. 20 November 2020.

---

So, to pay for your own imprisonment, states can:

-- hunt you down for decades (track you down 20 years later, charge you tens of thousands of dollars, and take your house away)

-- put a lien on your vehicle, house

-- garnish your paycheck/wages

-- seize your tax refund

-- send collections agencies after you

-- take your public assistance benefits

-- sue you in civil court

-- take money from your family even after you’re dead

[luvth0t]

SLUT! ━ C.L

based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift

or

in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.

warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p

lovelorn and nobody knows

love thorns all over this rose,

i’ll pay the price, you won’t

you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.

you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.

you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.

haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.

you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.

for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.

but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.

that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.

all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.

certain someone more so.

it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.

for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.

you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.

friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.

your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.

it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.

you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.

until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.

it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.

this worked, for a few months.

charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.

he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.

why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.

he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.

las vegas however, was your downfall.

drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.

with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.

then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.

it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.

you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.

you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.

his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.

it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.

immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.

“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.

suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.

“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.

his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.

the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.

he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.

the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.

maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.

three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.

it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.

“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.

he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.

your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.

“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.

max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.

it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.

you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.

time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.

charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.

the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.

he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.

when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.

it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.

he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.

most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.

it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.

you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.

only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.

your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.

your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.

“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.

charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.

“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.

“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.

never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.

but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.

“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.

you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.

“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.

you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.

“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.

charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.

he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.

“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.

charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.

“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.

and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.

“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.

the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.

which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.

climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.

painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.

abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.

it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.

charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.

you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.

charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.

you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.

it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.

it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.

you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.

when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.

it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.

you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.

“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.

the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.

“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.

you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.

to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.

“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.

“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.

you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.

“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.

charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.

he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.

or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.

“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.

“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.

you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.

“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.

it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.

“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.

“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.

you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.

“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.

you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.

“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.

“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.

“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.

“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.

if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.

“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.

you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.

but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.

the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

everyone wants him, that was my crime

the wrong place at the right time

of course it wasn’t easy.

you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.

the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.

every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.

at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.

it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.

but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.

what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.

he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.

but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.

a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.

and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.

muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.

inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.

uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.

if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.

it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.

the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.

the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.

you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.

the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.

except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.

there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.

like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.

you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.

“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.

silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.

you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.

charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.

he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.

while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.

it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.

and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.

deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.

yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.

you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.

you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.

on to the next.

it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.

your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.

“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.

“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.

you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.

“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.

“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.

the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.

“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.

stella had let out an exasperated sigh.

you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.

“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.

you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.

“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.

you were staring, but you didn’t care.

left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.

you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.

the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.

jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.

your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.

it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.

not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.

charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.

he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.

suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.

intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.

he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.

so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.

you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.

a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.

charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.

you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.

you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’

you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.

but charles didn’t think that was fair.

he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.

“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.

he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.

but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.

“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.

you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.

“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.

you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.

“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.

“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.

you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.

“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.

he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.

but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.

a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.

so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.

“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.

“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.

you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.

the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.

“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.

he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.

“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.

he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.

but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.

you finally snapped.

connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.

there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.

it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.

having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.

his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.

he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.

the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.

it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.

the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.

“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.

you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.

no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.

and I break down, then he's pullin' me in

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.

he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.

messages were swapped, but nothing more.

testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.

you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.

because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.

by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.

thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.

you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.

when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”

the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.

you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.

what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.

“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.

it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.

“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.

you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.

you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.

it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.

that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.

but that was just the start.

entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.

granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.

the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.

‘we need to have a meeting,’

‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’

‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’

‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’

‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’

‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’

you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.

“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.

you didn’t know what to say. or do.

deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?

you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.

short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.

you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.

monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.

you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.

the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.

these people would not see you cry.

you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.

you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.

“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.

“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.

“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.

but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.

“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.

“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.

or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.

“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.

you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.

he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.

“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.

“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.

there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.

“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.

you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.

you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.

you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.

you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.

almost there.

the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.

the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.

your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.

“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.

the first tear fell, silently.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.

overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.

“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.

lie.

complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.

charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.

“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.

just the need to ensure you were okay.

he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.

that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.

but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.

you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.

he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.

the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.

you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.

your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.

he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.

quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.

charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.

his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.

“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.

this wasn’t his fault.

“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.

“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.

it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.

“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.

you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.

“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.

his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.

“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.

his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.

“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.

what this was. what you two were.

he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.

“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.

he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.

“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.

this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.

rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.

your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.

you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?

“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.

you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.

but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.

“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.

he had to let you go.

but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us

if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once

charles stayed true to his word.

it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.

talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.

their was awkwardness in the team however.

their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.

a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.

it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.

talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.

but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.

not audibly at least.

charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.

it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.

charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.

none was easier than some, it seemed.

it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.

couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.

monaco, a race you’ll never forget.

your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.

you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.

but it motivated you.

you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.

it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.

it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.

you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.

you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.

you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.

the other headline of the weekend?

charles had finally won his home race.

he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.

you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.

it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.

it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.

you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.

charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.

his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.

call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.

he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.

the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.

to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.

he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.

watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.

would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.

right?

so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.

uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.

“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.

“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.

you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.

“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.

your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.

“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.

“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.

that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.

it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.

charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.

but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.

“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.

but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.

“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.

“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.

charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.

you were nervous because of what you were implying.

you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.

you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.

you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.

“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.

you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.

he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.

“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.

charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.

but his care for you trumped all.

“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.

he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.

you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.

“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.

his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.

he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.

you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.

“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.

he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.

“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.

you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.

you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.

it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.

he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.

patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.

navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.

he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.

charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.

the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.

you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.

you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.

“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.

you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.

it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.

“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.

while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.

tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.

he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.

“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”

charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.

he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.

you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.

sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.

charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.

his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.

the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.

it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.

“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.

“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”

his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.

your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.

“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.

his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.

it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.

and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.

he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.

“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.

you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.

his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.

“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.

he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.

“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.

“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.

he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.

“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”

the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.

you were his. he was yours.

“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.

your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.

“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.

you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.

“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.

his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.

“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.

he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.

but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.

he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.

he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.

your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.

“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.

his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.

“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.

“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.

charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.

“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.

you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.

it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.

a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.

you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.

“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.

“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.

you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.

“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.

his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.

you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.

“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.

you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.

you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.

your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.

he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.

“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.

he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.

“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.

when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.

you had a lot of time to make up for.

━━━━━

a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY

hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe

unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps

as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

luv u all !!!!!!!

[sytoran]

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE

kinktober day 011 | cheerleader!natasha x player!reader

"don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash" — arsonist’s lullabye, hozier

summary. natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants.

rating 18+ | word count 7438 (shittt)

note. natasha is 18 and y/n is 19, y/n is described to be masc-representing (eg. cropped hair, compression tee + grey sweats, tattoos, piercings)

note ii. please please please please take your time to read it, you don't understand how long i've spent pondering over every intricacy in this fic.

note iii. drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'don't fall for the player'

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

Don’t fall for the player.

This was a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Students in this renowned college came from all walks of life — from children of billionaires to self-made achievers, from prodigal minds to brilliant brains. One thing stood for certain, though, and that was the infamous Y/N L/N.

It was a rumour, tried and true, that every single girl — regardless of their sexuality, physical appearance, or social status — would all eventually fall under the spell of the school’s “player”. Try as they might, victim after victim fell helplessly for an effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

The chase never lasted long, a one-sided apex predator hunt. Once you had your eyes set on someone, there was simply no escaping the undeniable fact that the following morning, that girl would wake up in bed next to you.

Problem was, you had this rule, written in stone: Never sleep with a girl more than once.

Alas came the cruel and vicious cycle of girls falling under your spell within milliseconds, only to have their heart shattered within the next twenty-four hours. Sometimes even less.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) The wiser ones kept a distance, but either way, one fact stood true, the moment one stepped into Avengers Institution.

Don’t fall for the player.

Little did you know, soon would arrive a thorn in your plans, an unwanted distraction, your ultimate downfall.

All due to an equally irresistible girl by the name of Natasha Romanoff.

***

“You’re fuckin’ impressive for a freshman, Natasha,” Pepper whistles, clapping her on the back. “Consider yourself a member of the Avengers Institution’s cheerleading squad.”

Natasha nods breathlessly, dropping the pom-poms onto the ground. She had just completed a complicated routine for the cheerleading tryouts, a rigorous one with flips and twirls that required pristine balance.

“I guess that’s expected from a girl who was with the Red Room,” Sharon adds, somewhat snidely. She was another freshman trying out for the cheerleading squad, with a snake-like smile that was coated with too much venom to convey any sort of genuineness.

Natasha returns the smile blankly, false emotions overtaking her face like second nature — propriety, expectations, rectitude. She knew what those words meant, when they put emphasis on the Red Room.

The Red Room, in question, was one of the highest-class organisations internationally that trained talented young female cheerleaders. With a near overly-daunting curriculum, payment fees so impossibly high, and only the most renowned instructors, the Red Room was essentially associated with filthy rich wealth and spoiled privileged kids.

And such comes the tragedy of warped views on capitalism and the unfairness of the world. Sharon leans next to Natasha’s ear in the false pretence of picking something up, but her lips move dangerously swiftly and whisper, “Daddy’s money lets you get everything you want, hm?”

It only takes a second, and then the faux-innocent perpetrator briskly moves away as if nothing had occurred. Natasha stands still, the gripe washing over her back like a cold shower. She steels her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a silver-studded spoon in her mouth.

Shrugging off the strange looks some of the other girls give her, Natasha hides her annoyance by fiddling with her short skirt. Alongside college came the novelty of less-strict clothing etiquette, and that resulted in the most miniscule cheerleading skirts Natasha had ever worn in her life.

“Ready on the count of three,” Carol announces, tapping her clipboard with a ballpoint pen, surveying the expanse of the wide field.

It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she simply got everything she wanted.

“One.”

An invisible force of magnetism pulls Natasha’s gaze to the bleachers above the field, unyielding and unstoppable. There stands a tall and dark figure in a relaxed position, looking directly at her with piercing eyes. A shiver of anticipation sweeps through the air, and Natasha feels goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Two.”

Aloof charisma exudes from the person’s very presence, so compelling and captivating that it takes Natasha a moment to realise that there’s another girl standing next to the enigmatic soul. She’s chatting animatedly, under a false belief that she’s got your attention, but Natasha knows better.

Her eyes travel over the person’s sculpted figure clad in a leather jacket, tacit confidence written in your lazy smirk and composed posture. Electricity erupts in Natasha’s bloodstream, sending shockwaves coursing through her mindwires, forcing her to look back up to your alluring, forsaken eyes.

“Three.”

Natasha’s body moves mechanically, practised and poised. The rhythm thrumming from the portable speaker seeps into her practised muscles without her brain actually registering it, still reeling from the sheer impact of you.

If there was a fracture in her composure, if her routine was ever-so-slightly off, if her legs trembled more than it normally would’ve, Natasha would blame you.

Natasha would blame you and your stupid smirk, your silly leather jacket, your sickeningly magnetic allure. How you made her feel unstoppable with that come-hither gaze, then left her so low when your eyes inevitably left her.

And suddenly, like a golden key slotting into place, the words Natasha had heard whispered in the hallways finally made sense. The coveted prayer that could only be spoken under hushed tones and divine lips.

Don’t fall for the player.

When Natasha finishes the series of tumbles that ignites impressed cheers from the senior cheerleaders, she lifts her lowered eyes back to the bleachers.

Only to find your lips locked with the blonde girl from before, your hands creeping dangerously low on her back. You move like a predator python, the silver piercings in your ears glinting in the light with every of your calculated moves.

A burning feeling courses through Natasha’s veins, like an ugly green monster unfurling gradually, indescribable anger making her jaw tick.

Don’t fall for the player? Well, now that just sounded like a challenge.

***

Natasha makes her way through the crowd of students filing out from the lecture hall. The chatter fades to a background buzz in her ears as she beelines towards a group of more bearable folks.

“No, they’re a sophomore,” Wanda explained, leaning against the locker door.

“Who’re we talking about?” Natasha intercepts with a curious gaze, slinging an arm around Clint lackadaisically. Professor Banner’s lectures were highly educational, but he tended to drone on a little, and she could feel the rising boredom making its slow crescendo into the back of her mind.

Clint raises his eyebrows amusedly, then lowers his voice in humorous dramatisation. “The player.”

Natasha’s face flashes in recognition at your title. Several things flit across her mind in rapid succession — a fetching character, a lofty smirk, and a pretty girl hanging off a forearm.

“So, this uh… What’s her name?” Natasha tries to ask subtly, faking an expression of indifference. Clint, as always, side-eyes her with a playfully accusatory glance. Natasha shrugs with an odd feeling of guilt.

“Well, I’m a sophomore too, so I do have the guilty pleasure of knowing Y/N L/N,” Wanda said with a bit of a grin.

“Knows her in more ways than one!” Sam cackles, ducking as Wanda swipes at him.

Natasha feels that burning feeling rising in her chest again, and perhaps it was due to the knowledge that someone else had experienced being in bed with you — which was arguably silly, because of course you slept with plenty of women, but that didn’t quell her growing unease.

“Was the sex really that good?” Clint asks bluntly, folding his arms as he leans against the locker next to Darcy. Natasha chokes on air.

Wanda only raises an eyebrow, as if to question the poor boy of his doubts of your sexual prowess. Her knowing smirk told a thousand tales, of your sentient being seemingly reincarnated from a Goddess of Sex, of your mighty skillset of lust, the ultimate sapphic enigma.

“You tryna pull a lesbian, birdboy?” Natasha asks dryly, nudging Clint in the rib. The jibe doesn’t even give her that satisfaction. Thinking about you again had unnerved her very skin, causing clammy hands and a dry mouth.

“She leaves all the girls the morning after, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Wanda sighs wistfully, waving her hand in the air as if she prophesied of a legend. “It’s a one-night-wonder. Kind of like an eclipse. Only happens once, but when it does, it’s really astronomical.”

Natasha flexes her fingers to get her blood flowing. All this talk about your specialised skillset in bed was making her heart flutter, in the best way possible, but maybe that per se was the worst thing possible.

Because she might acknowledge that you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep with you, right?

“And that’s why it's a common tongue around here,” Wanda concludes. “Don’t fall for the player. Simple as that.”

On cue, the noise in the hallway comically fades to silence. The gathered crowds of students make way for a quickly striding figure, clad in the same dark clothing Natasha thought about day and night.

Crossing the hallway with an easy purpose and confident composure, you walk past girls who could be seen swooning. Your gaze slides over them casually, sending small smiles here and there but never really quite focusing.

Until your eyes meet Natasha’s, of course. Like a love scene straight out of a drama, your composure cracks fractionally, and your loose confidence is subverted. It only takes a second before your persona snaps back into place.

“Hey, Natasha,” A smooth voice spills out from your angel-crafted lips. Your voice runs over her weak-willed skin, suddenly so vulnerable in your presence, and then you’re gone.

Natasha stills in place, staring after your disappearing figure. Your two words had left such a searing imprint into the front of her mind that it was honestly concerning. The chatter rises again, as if you were never there.

“Looks like you’re Y/N’s next conquest,” Wanda comments, mildly impressed. “Good luck, my friend. Just remember, don’t fall for the player.”

***

Why on earth there was a dorm party on the second day of school was a question that would forever remain unanswered.

Perhaps the adolescent spirit was the root cause of it, free and tameless and reckless, or maybe it was the temptation of alcohol and attractive folks, intoxicating and thrilling.

Either way, Natasha was here for a good time, not a long time.

Her short midnight dress flounces as she makes her way over to the partially occupied couch, the rather risky slit making its way up her thigh to reveal awfully beddable skin.

“Hey, babe!” Wanda calls enthusiastically, waving her over. There’s a Matrix movie playing on the screen, Natasha isn’t clear of which one, and there are students sprawled over the couch, the floor, and on each other.

She ends up playing a game of truth or dare with strangers, driven by warm bodies and the repetitive encouragement to indulge in a little bit of ‘fun’.

“Truth!” Darcy yells drunkenly, almost crushing her red solo cup of cheap alcohol.

“Jeez, woman,” Carol mutters, sighing at the tipsy girl’s antics. “So, truth— ever had a threesome?”

A bunch of ‘ooh’s wave like a ripple through the huddle of students, but Darcy answers with surprisingly quick coherence for a woman on her sixth cup of beer. “Hell yeah,” she drawls. “Y/N and Jane. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”

Natasha feels that wildly uncomfortable feeling of butterflies fluttering — no, thrashing, around in her stomach. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s so easily unsettled by you.

Said Jane Foster flushes in her seat, clearly embarrassed at having her sex life exposed. She waves a hand, trying to quiet down the growing hoots and whistles. “I mean, is it really that surprising, guys? I’m definitely not the only one! Okay, jerks, who else has laid with the famed Y/N L/N?”

Immediately, all eleven women in the dorm room have their hands raised. Well, all except Natasha, that is.

“Oh, she’s a free woman!” Valkyrie yells out, pumping her fist, and the crowd of women let out victorious cheers. “Our last standing soldier!”

Natasha smiles awkwardly in the limelight of all these older students, the strangling sensation in her gut growing stronger.

Seriously? ‘The Player’ has already slept with all these pretty girls in her second year? I would never sleep with someone who treats sex so meaninglessly…

Natasha refocuses on the game, dispelling all her thoughts that seemed to constantly circulate around you. In the bleachers, in the hallway, and now in a dorm party…

So why is Y/N L/N a muse in my mind? Why is she so inescapable?

After about six rounds of revealing shameful truths and accepting rather pointless dares, Natasha’s ready to ditch the scene altogether.

She’s barely touched any alcohol, but it was honestly a shame that her imagination was still so lucid. Getting some of that cheap beer into her system would probably help her to relax quicker, and to stop thinking about you.

“Hey, uh,” she whispers to Wanda. The older girl pulls her gaze away from the current life of the party to regard Natasha with a drunken smile.

“What’s up, Nat?” Wanda drawls, sprawling forward a little too close for comfort. Natasha cringes at her beer-tinted breath. Wanda murmurs softly, “Hey, you got a lil somethin’ in your eye. Looks like a little cloud… Oh, that’s just the light. Silly me, silly–”

“Wanda, I’m gonna head back now. Don’t worry about me,” Natasha says, slightly impatiently but affectionate nonetheless, patting Wanda’s head.

“Awh, okay,” Wanda responds drunkenly, breaking off into a little giggle as Natasha gets up. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fall for the player, yeah?” Wanda asks with an innocent smile, but her eyes are reminiscent of a ghost doing its last haunting. Then Wanda’s gone, gone with the wind, her attention lost to the exhilarating game of truth and dare.

There’s a moment of quiet in Natasha’s mind, save for the explicit Nicki Minaj song playing in the background with lyrics that would make a stripper blush.

She had heard that simple statement all too many times. Almost like she was meant to hear it. Like it was a premonition, a foreshadowing.

With the odd feeling of being defenceless, Natasha makes a beeline for the door. She’s had enough of silly conservations and awful thoughts; conversations that encircled around the subject of The Player, and awful thoughts of hers that always ended up being about you.

However, a shining bottle of cheap alcohol catches Natasha’s attention from the makeshift bartending station, essentially a kitchen counter. “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she mutters under her breath, reaching out to grab a bottle for herself.

“Ah, that beer’s shite. The good one’s in the cupboard.”

Embarrassingly startled by the familiar smooth voice that greets her, Natasha jumps in her own skin. You again, she thinks with such indignation. What kind of sheer audacity did you have to approach her, after you were making out with another girl just the other day–

All coherent thoughts left Natasha’s mind when her eyes rake over your short-sleeve compression shirt that clung to your abdomen and arms like a vacuum-sealed package. Paired with grey sweats, it was such a beguiling mixture of taut muscles and casual wear that had Natasha growing hotter under her skin.

“I guess it’s alright for me to assume I’ve chosen the right attire for today,” you say, folding your arms in a little bit of satisfaction. That has Natasha staring at the black tattoos that decorate your thick forearms, and she’s half-crazed by the alluring sight.

Perhaps you’re showing off a little more than you normally would, but the girl standing before you was one that had invaded your mind for days on end, which was entirely uncharacteristic of your constantly horny brain.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asks snarkily, returning your confidence with her very own crossed arms. Your eyes don’t miss the way her awfully kissable lips form the words on her tongue, and you certainly don’t miss the way her crossed arms push up her cleavage.

You lick your lips imperceptibly, and you notice the way Natasha’s eyes follow the movement with a hawk-like gaze. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” you respond easily, taking a single step closer to the object of your desires.

Natasha scoffs at the pet name, but you can see your close proximity subverts her composure in the slightest. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reach out to place your hands on her altar-like hips. She bristles under your touch, but she doesn’t move.

“Why’re you so fucking arrogant?” Natasha finally asks, hating how breathless she sounds, struggling to keep cool as your ring-adorned hands thumb the material of her short dress. You’ve got her entrapped between the kitchen counter and your sinfully sculpted body, with no way of escape. (Not like Natasha was looking for one.)

“Brat.” The dry laugh that sounds from your throat has Natasha’s heart pounding, a choked sound of pleasure caught in the back of her throat. Your big hands have moved to her sides, cradling her waist tenderly but withholding power, as if you’re ready to dig your fingertips into her soft skin at any given moment.

She thinks it’s unfair, the way your eyes are damn near psychedelic. They’re screens of mercury, smouldering and smoking with the way it trails over her body. If you’re a spark of fire, Natasha is a pool of gasoline that feeds your will.

Hot lips slant against Natasha’s ear lobe, taking it between your teeth as she shudders. Natasha’s breathy release of air as she fights to keep silent has you tugging on her earlobe with pure want.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, your voice a touch lower than it had been before, your hands tightening its grip on her deadly hips, the metal of your rings cool against her hot skin.

The overwhelming sensation of your big hands, hot lips and sharp teeth is enough to have Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut. She almost loses control of herself, almost lets herself fall victim to your hypnotic touch — But then you pull away, and a desperate little whine nearly falls from Natasha’s lips.

The cheerleader swallows as she stares at your crafted face, your eyes darkened with something far deeper than want, your lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk.

“My room or yours?”

Natasha would like to say that the rest was a blur, and her alcohol-tainted memories got lost in translation — but it was a shameful and unequivocal statement that she had been entirely sober, and yet recalled every single detail of that night to vivid precision.

***

Natasha remembers you pressing her up against your door, a fervent urgency of lust unlocked within the confines of your dorm.

“So fucking desperate,” you grunt, hips knocking into Natasha’s front as you pin her against the door, lithe legs wrapped around your muscled torso.

“Shut the fuck up,” she spits, throwing her head back as your sharp teeth sink into the softness of her porcelain neck. The edge of your canines are hard and unforgiving, just how Natasha likes it, just how you scatter dark hickeys across her pale skin.

You smirk at her brattiness, finding it an exceptionally arousing trait of hers. “Pretty girl, you’re not the one in charge,” you tease, with your words and with your hands, dragging your fingertips up and under her short dress.

Natasha remembers her fingers twisting into your hair as you play her like a fiddle, teasing and edging and so blatantly talented like a prodigal concertmaster.

She whines as the cool metal of your rings nudges her nipples, her sensitivity skyrocketing with the shock. “More,” she tries to demand, but it ends up sounding like a helpless whimper and your hands move with such purpose.

You don’t help her cause by taking a hardened bud between two fingers and tugging, cries and whimpers following your fingers. Heaven is the way her breasts look all marked up by your mouth, hardened nipples and raw skin dancing in your vision.

Natasha’s nails dig into your hardened abdomen, scraping at your every muscle for all it was worth. It was something about you, something about the look in your eye, something about the way you commandeered her body with such precision and control like it was meant to be.

Natasha remembers her complete relinquishment of power, giving herself up for you, with a sick urge to be fucked within an inch of her life and then some.

Your right hand slides across her damp inner thigh to brush at her demesnes, and the sheer wetness that awaits your fingers makes you growl against her skin. “So fucking wet,” you grunt, peeling apart the thin material of her panties that cling to her sodden pussy with strings of slick.

Natasha wails, face completely flushed and so utterly gorgeous, and you can’t help but meet her lips with clashing tongue and teeth. She moans as your pierced tongue explores her mouth, and you drink up her cries of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck you silly,” you pant against her ear, fingers tracing the outline of her pretty pussy, dragging arousal along with it. Your knee keeps her legs spread nicely apart for the taking, and the vulnerability you bring out of Natasha is perhaps also the hottest thing.

Humiliation is the way Natasha agrees so quickly, nodding dumbly in acquiescence, thinking it would be nice to feel her brain melt to mush with your thick fingers and prodding tongue.

Natasha remembers the earth-shattering pleasure that wracks her body, as you divulge in providing, by leaps and bounds, the best sex she’s ever had.

Three fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt at a phenomenal pace, and Natasha’s panting like a dog, tight velvet walls clenching around the thickness of your fingers for all it’s worth.

Finger-fucking her against the door like a heaven-descent, you bask in Natasha’s cries of pleasure. It’s never been like this, never been this heated. With Natasha, you felt like you were ascending.

“You’re gonna make a mess on the fucking floor,” you bite, a low gasp caught in the back of your throat. Natasha’s head lolls to the side, high-pitched whimpers making themselves known as she drips down your wrist and her thighs.

Natasha remembers the unravelling, the way her body seizes up out of its own accord, electricity erupting behind her half-lidded eyes.

Your hands dig into the plush of her thighs as you bring Natasha to a stupendous climax. Your fingers curl harshly, hitting her sweet spot and drawing out obscene noises from her.

“Fuck–” Natasha chokes out, high-pitched and breathy and absolutely delightful. Her hips jerk in your hands as your fingers move inside her.

“Another,” you grunt, not a request, and before Natasha can get ahold of her senses your fingers are thrusting again. She wails as your wrist jackhammers into her wet cunt, slick sounds echoing around the four walls of your room.

The second orgasm arrives even more harshly than the first, and Natasha clings onto the broad muscles of your back as you pin her against the door, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

She thinks she could find solace in the way your arms entrap her in a certain type of warmth, almost as if you don’t want to let her go.

But that would just be a hopeless fantasy, wouldn’t it?

Natasha remembers waking up the next morning to an empty bed.

The morning air is too cold on her bare skin. Your side of the bed isn’t even warm anymore. You must’ve left ages ago, in the dark of the night, and that thought in itself has Natasha choking on emotions she’d rather not feel.

Her clothes are still strewn on the floor and the furniture is a mess, a mockery of how far she’d let you go last night, driven by an inescapable high.

This is the game you play. Toying with girls' hearts like it was child’s play, making them feel like they were one in a million for one night only. All that alluring charisma was ugly and falsified, viewed through rose-tinted glasses.

This is the game you play, and Natasha Romanoff had fallen victim to it.

Don’t fall for the player.

Now, it was just another warning sign that she’d overlooked, and she was just like those other girls, stumbling into your open arms and cocky smirk.

Vehement fury slugs inside the cheerleader, as she forcefully picks up her strewn clothes.

Then she looks around the dorm room, your room, and time stills for a moment.

She’d expected it to be somewhat furnished, like all other dorm rooms were, maybe a cactus in the corner or a poster of a rockstar. Instead, your walls are blank and there isn’t a trophy or an award in sight.

You’re the captain of the football team, above average in academics, yet there isn’t a trace of the mark you’ve left as a student at Avengers Institution. There isn’t a trace that you’re a living, breathing human, with emotions that craft your very humanity.

Scarily enough, she feels like she’s laid in the bed of a complete stranger.

And suddenly, Natasha understands.

Don’t fall for the player.

Suddenly, everything feels a little too real, and Natasha comprehends that the statement holds far more depth than what your reputation suggested.

You were just fucking scared.

Scared of commitment, scared of growing attached, scared of being abandoned. You feared getting your heart broken, and thus you feared the longevity of relationships that involved love and romance.

As Natasha picks up her strewn clothes from the floor, with aching limbs and dishevelled hair, only one statement rings in her mind.

Don’t fall for the player.

“Maybe I will,” Natasha whispers to the ghost of your handsome, misunderstood self in the room. “But haven’t you heard I always get what I want?”

***

You couldn’t fall asleep.

You watch the empty sky as you sit on the empty rooftop of the school at four in the morning, a cigarette hanging limp between your lips. There’s an underlying anger bubbling beneath your skin, an itch that you can’t find, simply stewing there to your frustration.

Romance was bullshit.

It was plainly obvious from the way girls approached you. Flirty eyes and feather-light touches meant only one thing. And they were all so pretty, so who were you to complain, right?

All those girls always ended up in your dorm bed, sweaty and short of breath. Your heart would pound, and your mind would go wild with endless possibilities of what could happen if they just stayed.

“You can stay if you want,” you muttered off-handedly to one of your first few hookups in college. The look that the girl returned was so unimpressed that you never asked that question again.

But it was okay, because sex was something that you were good at, and those girls had their fun. It was okay, even if there was something missing. It was okay that your reputation preceded your identity. Even if those expectations spiralled far beyond your control.

With every passing girl you brought to bed, the gnawing hole in your chest only grew bigger. You craved something that you couldn’t obtain. Even if your heart was crawling out of its ribcage every time a girl breathed your name, every time she laid a hand on your chest.

Last night, Natasha Romanoff took that gaping hole in your chest and ripped it right open.

“Please, Y/N,” Natasha had whined, and there was reverent devotion in the way you held her hips, in the way you pulled her close.

“Stay,” you had wanted to whisper, so badly, so many times, but her hands were streaking red marks down your back and her body was shuddering under yours.

So you kept your forbidden mouth shut and continued to do what you did best. All the ‘what-ifs’ were just hopeless dreams. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t commit. You weren’t allowed to, not after the expectations that had been set for you.

Romance was bullshit, after all.

“You seem troubled,” a female voice announces from behind you, but you don’t bother to turn back. Taking your silence as consent, the girl sits next to you.

“Give me a light,” the girl says, leaning closer to you, and only then do you turn to look her over. Blonde girl, 5’8, blue eyes. Freshman.

“Sharon Carter, right?” you ask indifferently, and the girl lets out a bemused huff as she makes her comfortable next to you.

“Wow, so you do know every girl in this school,” Sharon comments, and there’s a teasing lilt in her voice that hints at how this is going to end up.

You pull out a cigarette, passing it over to the blonde girl, noting how her fingertips brush over yours for a second too long. “Maybe I do,” you respond with false cockiness, the smirk overtaking your face almost unconsciously.

This is the right thing to do, you convince yourself, as Sharon’s hand creeps to your thigh. One girl after the other. You couldn’t get attached.

“Impressive. Put away your light. It’s healthier to destress in another way,” Sharon whispers, tossing her cigarette to the rough concrete.

What a waste, you think, but then the same could be said about a lot of other things in your life.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate your existence. You wonder why you’ve ended up this way. What you’ve done to deserve girls throwing themselves at you when you began to despise all of them.

When Sharon brings her lips closer to yours, and you find yourself meeting her halfway, because you’ve done it so many times.

There’s this tugging of your heart that almost feels like guilt, but you shove it down and drag your tongue between a set of lips. All too easily, your hands draw patterns across her chest and her thighs, a mastered craft that came mechanically.

Even if it is the right thing to do, it doesn’t feel right.

Your head is swimming with unbearable thoughts of Natasha Romanoff, and you try to erase her on the tongue of another girl who could never compare.

It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the easy way out, and it’s what’s expected of you.

Always has been.

***

“Fuck, Y/N—” is the first thing Natasha hears when she meanders into the bathroom the morning after.

She had wanted to get an early start on the new morning, but alas, fate had it out for her.

For a while, Natasha is surprised that she isn’t surprised. You’ve got a pretty blonde girl on the bathroom counter, one hand up her skirt and the other twisted in her hair.

The girl throws her head back in a bout of pleasure, and Natasha’s thinking that maybe she looks a little familiar. It’s her cheekbones, strung high like a haughty prick. “Daddy’s money always gets what you want, hm?” rings in her head.

A spark of fire burns any ounce of indifference Natasha has to ashes. Sharon Fucking Carter.

Sharon’s painted nails were digging into the expanse of your shoulder blades, and it looked downright painful. Your dexterous fingers were plunging into her sodden cunt, rendering her barely coherent.

It all looks so wrong, and Natasha wants to crawl out of her skin before the jealousy eats her alive.

“Fucking hypocrite, aren’t you?” Natasha spits venomously, hands clenched into fists of fury, making her presence known.

When Sharon jumps away from you like she’s been burned, Natasha can’t help but let evil glee surge through her stomach. Serves you right, she thinks, staring at your dishevelled hair that somehow only made you look more handsome.

It’s different, this time, with your eyes darting as if you were unsure of yourself. (Astonishing, considering your mean streak of being cold as ice.) There’s resentment in the way your face sets, and a type of hurt that causes Natasha to falter.

“Daddy’s little bitch,” Sharon scoffs, fixing her skirt with no attempt to hide her disdain. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, eyes widening in fractional aggression. “I-”

“You should go, Carter,” you say monotonously, almost defeated but wavering on the edge of frustration.

The blonde girl whips her head around to stare at you with incredulousness written in her wide eyes. She lets out a dry laugh of betrayal. “Fuck, look at the two of you. Match made in hell.”

The bathroom door slams shut with a piercing thud. Both you and Natasha don’t flinch.

“You didn’t have to call Sharon a hypocrite,” you mumble, flicking your head back to look in the mirror.

There’s something off about you that no one else has ever had the privilege of seeing. It makes Natasha’s heart soar and her blood boil simultaneously.

“She wasn’t the one I was calling a hypocrite.”

A moment passes between the two of you where you flick an invisible switch.

“I’m the hypocrite, Romanoff?” you ask, evidently provoked. A crazed look in your eyes draws Natasha’s attention, because you’re putting on a false facade all over again.

“Am I the hypocrite for fucking another girl? It’s all I do, isn’t it? That’s what I’m known for. You don’t get to be so butthurt because you were just a one-night.”

A sickly sourness lines your mouth as you spew words that aren’t true, because your heart was fighting every battle to get to Natasha Romanoff.

“What you’re failing to realise,” Natasha begins stately. “Is that this isn’t about me. Fuck it if I’m just another girl on your ever-growing fuck list. Because maybe I am. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re happy.”

“Oh, so now you’re determining my emotions for me,” you retort with as much snark as you can muster. “You weren’t acting this high and mighty last night in my bed.”

“Quit the act,” Natasha scoffs, then letting a bittersweet smile cross her face. “You’re hiding behind weak retorts because you’re scared. Scared of being alone. But you don’t have to be anymore.”

Lost, your hands twitch, and you allow yourself to believe that maybe Natasha is your salvation. Defense mechanisms kick in, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Sorry to disappoint, Romanoff, but don’t try to play therapist. I’m not some kind of victim you’re going to diagnose,” you sneer. “I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want without your judgment.”

“Free?” Natasha asks, an incredulous look in her eyes. She laughs in mockery with an unwavering gaze. “You’re not free. You can’t go a day without fucking a girl. You’re a prisoner, and you’re shackled by your own desires and wants. Except this time, that luxury has become an addictive coping mechanism.”

Dark eyes flash with a glimmer of danger, and you’re so much like a trapped animal gone hostile that Natasha’s heart breaks a little.

“You’re wrong,” you answer, but your hands are shaking so violently that you hardly seem like the person she once thought you were.

Where complete equilibrium once was, a desperate frenzy of unease is what exudes from you now. Natasha feels a twinge in her heart when you whisper “You’re wrong,” again, this time substantially more quiet and resigned.

“Prove it, then,” Natasha challenges, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face. Her eyes search yours so desperately, and you’ve stripped naked in front of a hundred girls, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Prove that you’re more than whatever they say about you.”

With the strange urge of tears pricking at your eyes, you stare at Natasha with all the hopelessness any broken heart could muster, and for a moment you can see the doubt in her eyes. Like you’ve disappointed her, just like all the girls who’s hearts you’ve broken.

But when you first kissed Natasha Romanoff, it was never going to be just another one-night, was it?

With the final semblance of humanity in your burden-stricken mortality, you drag a shaky thumb along Natasha’s cheekbones like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and the deeply-rooted self-loathing inside you fades away, just a little bit.

Your parted lips meet Natasha’s in a prologue to an unfinished symphony. You delve in like she’s your last lifeline, and maybe Natasha is, from the way she rests her fingers on your hips with a gentleness you’ve never experienced.

A carnal urge washes over you, because this time you’re not afraid to admit that you want Natasha Romanoff. You spread your hands, feeling up as much of her as you can, running it down her back then squeezing at her rounded ass—

And then Natasha’s pulling away, and only then do you hear the cluster of footsteps approaching the washroom.

“Tonight,” she whispers with a hint of smirk. Natasha goes on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then she’s gone.

You stand there with wide eyes, in the washroom where students filter in, lingering with the ghost of Natasha Romanoff’s lips and a piece of your heart melted onto the floor.

***

You were positive you were going to start ripping off your skin if you didn’t start fucking Natasha Romanoff in this exact moment.

But that would be a bad idea, because you were in the middle of a psychology lecture, and Professor Harkness probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

After a torturous hour of you shifting in your seat, you sprint out the lecture hall. Thanking the heavens that it was your last lesson of the day, you dodge and weave through the crowd of students in the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N,” A small group of sophomore girls call out, checking you out like a piece of meat. Normally, their flirtatious winks and little skirts would have you folded in an instant, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.

You send them a polite smile and continue on your hasteful journey, missing the comical way their faces fall.

Upon your dutiful research, you knew where Natasha’s dorm was located, but you planned to stop by your own dorm to pick up a little something. (Okay, maybe the something wasn’t that little.) You yank open your door with purpose—

Only to find Natasha already sprawled out on your dorm bed, dressed in one of your shirts and nothing else. You almost pass out. Almost.

“Nat,” you groan, locking the door behind you. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not before I come, I’m afraid,” Natasha sighs with a pleased smile. She beckons you over with a come-hither motion, spreading her legs in invitation.

You bite back an affected noise in the back of your throat, pushing Natasha back down on to the bed with fervour. With a crushing sense of urgency, you slide your hand between her pretty thighs, not waiting a single moment.

“Slow down,” Natasha instructs, tilting your head up to stare at her blown pupils. “Take your time. Don’t just fuck me. Do it like you mean it.”

Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride washes over you and then you’re so eager to please, desperate to somehow prove yourself.

Your fingers find the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head, revealing the bare mounds that are Natasha’s tits. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your fingertips experimentally brush over her hardened buds.

“God, you’re built,” Natasha moans, running her hands over the edges and curves of your muscle. It’s tight and taut under her touch, so defined and carved.

You shudder under her explorative touch, returning your attention back to the beautiful girl in front of you.

You were so used to hot, fast, explosive sex that turning back time was such a jarring awakening of everything that you were missing out on.

It put things into perspective, that you had never actually made love. And since this was your first time, you were determined to do it right, especially for Natasha.

You trail open-mouthed kisses down her sternum and stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Your hands grasp at her tits, enjoying the feel of it in your hands.

You’re experiencing things you never got to experience, like the rise and fall of Natasha’s pale chest, the way her eyelids flutter gently.

Temporarily avoiding where she needed you most, you hear Natasha let out a whine. You tease her hole with your tongue, smearing her slick messily.

“Fuck,” Natasha curses, winding her fingers into your hair. “Please, I need it,” she whines, as you lick at her clit.

“M’kay, baby,” you mumble against her wet folds, because you could never deny Natasha of anything, could you?

You slide your tongue in her twitching pussy, and begin one of the most passionate love-making sessions

You listen out for when Natasha hitches her breath, when her hips stutter, when she mewls out. You learn the instrument of her body, understand and test out the different reactions you can draw out.

After minutes of what seem like pure bliss with erratic breaths and pleading keening, you speed up and the reaction is immaculate.

“Y/N,” Natasha cries, as your tongue goes in and out of her dripping cunt. Her slick goes down her thighs and your chin, making the most obscene noises.

It’s wet and squelching, and you proceed to devour Natasha’s pussy for everything it’s worth.

For a millisecond, Natasha wonders if anyone has ever died from being eaten out too passionately. Erotic Oral Overdrive, maybe.

Her first orgasm comes in a gradual crescendo, her hips rocking in waves as you dutifully match her unwinding.

Natasha lets her eyes flutter shut as the moment overwhelms her senses. Until the silence is finally broken by you.

“Got a little something for you,” you say with a quirked brow, sliding your hand into the bedside cabinet to retrieve that little something.

“Oh, fuck,” Natasha whines, upon seeing the biggest strap-on toy she’s ever had her eyes upon in her life.

You ease in the cock with no amount of trouble, through Natasha’s already slick cunt. You start with a gentle pace, because you’re trying to be slow.

Apparently, Natasha has different plans this time around.

“Harder,” Natasha growls, digging her nails into your muscled back. You let out a low gasp, because you’re already so deep inside her divine pussy, and you didn’t think you could go any deeper.

Gripping her thighs and spreading it as far apart as you can, you thrust impossibly deeper and your hips slap against Natasha’s.

Her eyes roll back, and she arches off the bed as you continue to thrust and make a nest for yourself inside her.

“Y/N, ungh– please, fuck—” Curled toes wrap around your back as she writhes against the bed.

With the way your cock bulges against her skin, you’re quite sure you could actually split Natasha in half. She’s clawing at your back, calling out your name to the ceiling.

When you pull out, Natasha whines, velvet walls clenching tighter around to keep you deep inside. But then you thrust all the way in again and a scream rings around your dorm room.

You don’t give a flying fuck about the noise level as you pound into Natasha, splitting open her pretty little pussy. “So fucking tight and wet,” you moan into her ear. “All for me, baby?”

It’s fucking possesive, the way you manhandle her to look at her rolled-back eyes and slack jaw.

“Mhm– yes! Oh God, yes, please, Y/N!” Natasha shrieks, clenching so tight you swear you can feel her wet pulse through the huge strap-on.

But it isn’t just any strap-on, and Natasha realises this with a breathy gasp, because it’s a squirting strap-on, and then you’re unloading into her ruined cunt with a deep growl.

Natasha wails, legs in the air, as you pump your seed into her pussy. It’s thick and flows out in pumps, and she milks your cock dry.

“Good girl, Nat,” you breathe, rocking in slow motions so she can recover from her high.

Finally, you collapse on top of Natasha as she lets out a breathy laugh. “What happened to not fucking the same girl twice?”

“You’re infuriating,” you grunt, rolling your hips once in retaliation. You delight the small victory of Natasha whimpering under you.

Natasha rolls her eyes at your impertinence, leaning up to press a small kiss on your forehead. “Infuriating? More like irresistible.”

It’s your turn to laugh, grasping her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. “You’re right,” you whisper truthfully. You think you could stay like this forever.

“Stay if you dare,” Natasha whispers, letting her hand trace over the curvature of your angled face. As you lay above her, you turn your head so that your lips brush against her palm.

Your warm lips are so delicate that Natasha could almost weep, and that’s all the response she needs before breathing a gentle sigh, hence letting sleep drift her consciousness away.

For the first night amongst many, a quiet calm settles in your dorm room ‘til the sun rises again.

***

Don’t fall for the player.

Once upon a time, that used to be a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Tried and true, was the rumour that every single girl in this school would eventually fall victim to The Player’s effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

And this might be true, because whenever you strolled the hallways or scored a touchdown, you were bound to have admirers cheering your name or flirty winks thrown in your way — However, there was a catalyst. A change, if you would.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) What used to be a smooth mouth and wandering hands became a delicate kind of control, saved for only one particular student.

Gone was your blatant charisma and swagger in treating other girls, because now there was only one on your mind — Natasha Romanoff. Be it in on the bleachers, in the hallways, or during dorm parties, never were you seen without the girl who always got what she wanted.

And that included the very subject of the mantra that defined Avengers Institution:

Don’t fall for the player.

so... this was one full month of work. i've never been this dedicated to a singular project. wow. uh, please reblog. it's the only true way of supporting your little creators on this app, so help me out here. thanks for reading. out of curiosity, which part did you like the most?

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[robertreich]

The Truth About Trumponomics

Trump and Republicans want to wreck your bank account. Here are 5 things you need to know about Trumponomics.

1.Trump wants tax cuts for the rich, at your expense.

Trump’s tax cuts for the rich and big corporations added about $1.7 trillion to the national debt, with few benefits trickling down to the middle class — in fact, it raised taxes for more than 10 million American families.

Now Trump and Republicans want to make the tax cuts for the rich permanent, blowing up the debt even further. And then they’ll use that debt to justify this:

2. Trump would cut Social Security and Medicare — programs you’ve been paying into!

In every year of his presidency, Trump submitted a budget that tried to cut Social Security and Medicare. And he knows that’s the only way he can even begin to pay for extending his tax cuts for the rich.

3. Trump and his allies are pro-junk fee.

When the Biden administration issued a rule capping credit card late fees at $8, Sen. Tim Scott, a Trump surrogate, tried to overturn it in the Senate. And then a Trump-appointed judge issued a temporary injunction that blocked the rule from taking effect. Eliminating that rule would cost American families an estimated $10 billion a year.

And when the Biden administration required airlines to issue automatic refunds for canceled flights, Trump’s allies in Congress fought to block that too.

When Trump was in office, his administration fought against efforts to rein in airline junk fees.

Corporations nickel and diming us like this makes inflation worse. If Trump gets back in the White House, buckle up for more junk fees.

4. Trump would send health care costs soaring.

Republicans have committed to repealing the Inflation Reduction Act, which would strip Medicare of the ability to negotiate drug prices, and let Big Pharma send the price of insulin and other life-saving medicines back through the roof.

And Trump is still fixated on repealing Obamacare, with no plan to replace it.

TRUMP: Obamacare is a disaster. We’re gonna do something about it.

That would strip coverage from tens of millions of Americans, drive up premiums, and let insurers charge more or deny coverage to people with preexisting conditions.

5, If you’ve got student debt, you’re out of luck with Trump.

In contrast to President Biden, who’s canceled more than $160 billion of student debt so far, Trump is against student debt relief. In his first term, he tried to eliminate the popular Public Service Loan Forgiveness program for people like teachers and nurses, and he’s called the idea of debt relief “unfair.”

What’s unfair, is how student debt hurts not just the roughly 40 million Americans burdened by it, but the entire economy, since Americans with debt have less money to spend, are less likely to start a business, less likely to buy a home, and more likely to rely on government assistance.

The MAGA agenda would make nearly every aspect of your life more expensive, while making the richest Americans even richer.

Teddy Roosevelt’s economic plan was called the Square Deal. Franklin Roosevelt’s was the New Deal.

What Trump is offering is simply a Raw Deal.

[asfodeltide]

Petition to Reinstate Jad Abuhamda After Unfair Expulsion

Legal Fee GFM

The brother of someone at my university got unjustly expelled from his high school (Pine Crest School in Fort Lauderdale, FL) because he and his mother (who was also fired from her job) expressed pro-Palestine sentiments on social media. The family is currently overwhelmed with legal fees and appreciates any help or traction they can get

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Pt. 19

Without looking back you just sprinted away from Keira who watched you cut through the crowd and took a deep breath before turning around after she lost sight of you. And oh boy she wasn't wrong with what she expected to see – Lucy was pissed. Her whole body was basically shaking with anger and Keira was grateful for the glass door that divided the two of them for the moment. Keira wasn't scared of Lucy by all means but she also knew that both Bronzes – Lucy and y/n – can get quiet unfair when being emotional. So she took another deep breath before scanning her own ticket entering the tunnelway to the plane

“I'm not talking to you when you come at me like this nor will I deal with this whole issue in the middle of Boarding while others are around” the blonde calmly said before stepping around Lucy continuing walking towards the plane

“What the fuck is going on?” Lucy asked her voice shaking with anger and she was straight in Keiras face

“Keira Fae Walsh” your sister growled trying to grab Keiras wrist to suddenly found herself blocked by Irene

“Let's get home first Lucy...” the spanish player said calmly

Normally not one to get involved into clearly family stuff but as the quiet observant Irene was she saw what Keira did there and obviously Keira only wanted to make you happy. Irene never was someone who was always outgoing like say Mapí or Pina she usually stayed back and just observe. It was clear to her that after what happened in Barcelona just before the international break you needed more time away from the catalan city. It wasn't obvious to Lucy, Mapí, Pina or even Alexia but Irene saw you slightly flinch every time someone would mention Barcelona. You obviously needed distance to overcome whatever was still bothering you. So she did something very unusual for her – she stepped in and got involved.

“I need to get my sister” Lucy suddenly felt a wave of panic wash through her and quickly turned around “... she's still a baby she can't be in a big ass airport by herself”

“Lucy...” Irene said soothingly grabbing the defender by her forearm “... she's a young growing woman – she's not a toddler anymore. We both know who she sprinted after so she isn't alone and you need to trust her... I know it's hard – believe me I know better than anyone. You want to keep her safe and secure and keep the rough world away and make it as easy as you can for them – but they grow up and learn to walk and talk and as hard as it is you need to let them Lucy. When Mateo took his first steps it was the proudest and scariest moments in my life – I was proud he walked and at the same time I was so scared something happens to him. But even if they fall and get hurt – you need to let them Lucy... trust your sister – she's a good kid and has a good head on her shoulders”

“She's fragile right now” your sister tried again weakly

“And you think it's getting better if you force her back to the place where it happened?” the spaniard asked knowing Lucy was just hurting a little too

“I can protect her” Lucy swallowed hard trying to not let her teammate see the tears that were starting to pool in her eyes “I can make it right again”

“We all know that Lucia... we know you can protect her – but right know she doesn't need you to protect her. She needs you to understand that she needs time away. She's save Lucy and that's the only thing that matters”

“I know Irene... I know that she's save.... but it's so hard to let her go” your sister was on the edge of tears standing a little to the side with her teammate while other passengers walked passed uninterested

“Trust me Lucy... I understand you... I understand you better than anyone but you brought her up to be an amazing woman... you let to set her free Lucy – as hard as it is” Irene tried to consult her obviously upset friend “Let others see too that there's another amazing Bronze out there”

“Yeah... yeah okay” Lucy took a deep breath “Thank you Irene”

“No need Lucy – I know how you feel... it's the same feeling I get every day when I drop off Mateo at the kindergarten and he just runs off without even saying Bye because he needs to show his friends his new toy” Irene chuckled pulling Lucy in for a hug

“She didn't run off to show G her toys” Lucy chuckled back through her tears as she hugged her teammate back

“Oh you never know... she's probably showing Georgia her grown up toys” the spanish grinned as she let go of Lucy and turned around to finally board the plane leaving a flabbergasted Bronze behind

“No she's not!!! She's a baby!!!” your sister yelled after Irene a minute later after she collected herself earning strange looks from people going past and further down the tunnel you could hear Irenes laughter

“G!!!! WAIT!!!” you yelled spotting the blond ponytail from your girlfriend as you did your best not to run into someone

You saw Georgia turn around a confused and shocked look on her face thinking she started hallucinating hearing your voice calling out for her. But no – there you were jumping (not) so gracefully over a trolley sprinting towards her. Your girlfriend had mere seconds to collect herself before she saw you launching herself in Georgias arms. Just as you knew your girlfriend caught you with ease but she had to use the momentum to spin you around so you both didn't end up on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Georgia asked slightly panicked “Please don't tell me you ran away because seriously y/n... your sister is going to kill me for real – that's if she's faster than Keira”

“No... no don't worry... I didn't run away – Keira and Sarina rebooked me ticket... I get a small getaway in Munich... that's... if you'll have me” you quickly explained smiling but you'll make sure to drop your voice at the end so bystanders wouldn't hear it

“What...? Yeah... yeah of course” your girlfriends face changed from confused to widely grinning

“Good... I kinda start missing Jill... she's so unintentionally funny” you grinned after your girlfriend put you down again

“Scuse me?” the blonde looked at you offended “What you mean you miss Jill??”

“Oh my Mrs. Stanway... do I detect some jealousy?” you teased your girlfriend keeping your voice low while you move towards the boarding queue

“No... just interest” Georgia tried but you saw right through her

“Interest my ass” you snorted while you handed a Stewardess your ticket happy that the light turned green after she scanned it “Everyone thinks your this easy going persona... in reality you're possessive, dominant and jealous...”

“... and yet still you love me” your girlfriend husked in your ear standing behind you

“That I do... also... you make me laugh” you mumbled back smirking to yourself “But so does Jill”

You couldn't stop the little squeal when Georgia pinched your side and you just started to laugh. You already felt so more at ease for just being with your girlfriend that you set yourself a mental reminder to get the biggest fruit baskets for Mama Rina and Keira that you could find. You steadily moved forward and stepped into the plane that would fly you to Munich when it hit you and you suddenly turned around to Georgia

“I don't feel good” you said a little panicked and try to push past Georgia who just grabbed you gently and turned you back around towards the plane

“It's okay Baby” your girlfriend murmured next to your ear “I'm with you the whole time...”

“No G... I don't FEEL good” you pressed while you got pushed forward gently

“It's not a long flight Baby” Georgia tried to calm you down again smiling slightly at the Stewardess “... she's a little nervous about flying”

“Oh don't worry Miss... our planes are on the newest safety standards and flying is even safer than driving” the Stewardess smiled politely

“Driving... that's it... we're driving... let's go” you rambled trying to turn around again for Georgia to sigh and keep pushing you forward

“No... I have training tomorrow afternoon... we can't drive” your girlfriend said calmly pushing you through the tight aisle and you already felt your chest tighten

“G” you said your voice trembling

“It's okay Baby... nothing will happen I promise” Georgia said soothingly stopping you at your seats “We take off, have a nice conversation about how you miss.. Jill... and then we already land... easy peasy – like the win over Spain”

“G” you said again desperately your panic rising

“You're safe Baby” your girlfriend mumbled quietly pushing you into the middle seat at your row before taking her own seat at the aisle

“No G... I don't feel good... I feel if I'm gonna throw up” you whispered your eyes fixed on the seat in front of you

“Oh...” Georgia said a little lost “.... ehrm.. you haven't eaten this morning.... wait... I still have a cereal bar”

“No please don't make me eat anything” you begged your girlfriend but she was already out of her seat searching her little carry-on bag for said cereal bar

“Here... eat that... you don't have to chew just bite some off and swallow it” your girlfriend held the bar right under your nose smiling encouraging

The smell alone made you heave and you pushed her hand away

“Baby please... I beg you” you looked at her with pleading eyes

“No... you eat that cereal and then you feel better.. it'll help your nerves Baby” Georgia said her voice low and caring

“I'm not...” you started but she interrupted you

“... hungry I know...” your girlfriend rolled her eyes “... for me... please?”

“You better keep your stomach in check because I'm 87.94% sure I'm gonna throw up” you mumbled as you grabbed the cereal bar as if it personally insulted you

“Thank you” Georgia said before checking her surroundings quickly then pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek

“Yeah yeah” you mumbled opening the snack and biting into it “That's disgustingly sweet”

“Yeah sorry... it's white chocolate/strawberry” your girlfriend smiled apologetic

“You KNOW I hate white chocolate” you whined but didn't get very far as Georgia pushed the bar back into your mouth and the safety instructions started

“I don't know why they do that every flight... if we crash we crash” you mumbled with a full mouth

“There are still people who never flown and not every crash is deadly” your girlfriend mumbled back not paying attention herself already having her tablet out looking for a movie to distract you during the flight

“Still...” you mumbled taking another bite from the cereal bar chewing it aggressively

Georgia chuckled lowly laying her hand on your knee in a calming manner stopping your leg from bouncing nervously

“Okay... we're about to take off... take my hand” your girlfriend said quietly offering her hand

“I've flown alone before...” you grumbled but take her hand nonetheless

“Oh I know you did... just wanted to give a reasonable excuse to hold my hand” Georgia smirked

“I kinda missed the sneaking around” you mused squeezing her hand tightly feeling your nerves rising again as the plane rolled onto the runway

“You're doing great Baby...” Georgia whispered and ran her thumb over your knuckles

“G... my stomach is acting up.. I think... bad feeling” you mumbled your voice strained

“Just nerves babe.... relax... tell me about Barcelona” your girlfriend tried to distract you

“It's hot there... so so hot G... the weather isn't bad either” you said nonchalantly and your girlfriend bursted out laughing

“So... who looks best in a bikini?” Georgia smirked mentally congratulating herself for succeeding with her distraction plan

“All of them” you quickly said “Ratings... Bonmatí is a 9 – she had one of these big white hats on.. kind of a turn off... but still... a 9... Princess Norwegian is a 10 – she's a full package... I kinda digged that dark blue bikini... Lucy probably could've pulled that one off too – she got a nice tan... apparently without lines”

“Ew... too much” your girlfriend pulled a face

“... yeah... that's what I said... who else was there.. uh... tweedledee... a 8.5 – she definitely has the body for it but the bikini was a little... boring... tweedledumb... a 7.8... she small and I really don't get the printed bikinis you know... why would you wear somethings with pineapples on it?” you looked at Georgia confused who chuckled shrugging her shoulders “... then you have Ona... I don't really want to rate her – I saw her naked... okay I saw her back and ass naked... ugh” you shuddered “... I thought I forgot about that”

“Sorry to open old wounds” Georgia smirked and you saw that she wasn't sorry at all

“You're nooo...” you started but then you felt the plane pick up speed feeling the unmistakable little jump when the plane started to take off

“It's okay... look at me...” your girlfriend calmly said feeling you squeeze her hand to the point where she was sure you'd brake it “... Baby... look at ME”

“I hate it..” your breathing starting to get quicker as you turned your head looking into your girlfriends brown eyes

“It's all good... you're doing amazing...” Georgia said lowly holding your stare until she felt you relax and lighten your squeeze “How does Lucy deals with it when she's with you?”

“Keira always gives me these Vitamin gummies” you mumbled

“Vitamin gummies?” your girlfriend asked confused and there was the well-known “pling” as the seatbelt sign went off

“I love you... but move” you quickly opened your seatbelt basically climbing over her

“What... where are you... y/n” Georgia looked puzzled after you as you speed walked down the aisle before she quickly tried to get after you but forgot that she still had her seatbelt on

You quickly made it into the tiny bathroom just in time to hunch over the toilet and empty your stomach content into it. Your girlfriend squeezed in behind you as you felt a new wave of nausea hit you and you crouched over the bowl again heaving again

“Oh god” you heard behind you and heard Georgia dry heave

“Get out” you pressed out

“No no... I'm going to help you” your girlfriend said her voice strained

“G... you're a sympathy puker... GET. OUT” you said before heaving out there

“You need...” another heave “Help”

“I need you to get out” you said before getting hit by another wave which caused you to vomit again

To your surprise your girlfriend stayed the whole time holding your hair and rubbed over your back soothingly. When you thought you were done you sat down your back against the cold wall and you looked up towards Georgia. The blonde still held your hair loosely but she looked in the complete different way than you were in. It made you smiled lightly before you remembered where you sat and you quickly jumped up already shuddering thinking about all the gems that were now on you.

“I'm done.... I don't think there's anything left” you mumbled

“Thank god” your girlfriend sighed out “What do you need?”

“A bottle of water to wash my mouth... and some spearmint” you said slowly “... and some disinfectant”

“Wait here... I go to the stewardess” Georgia said and out of routine she leaned forward wanting to press a kiss to your mouth but you stopped her just in time with your hand against her chest

“Yeah I don't think so” you said pushing her backwards

“Sorry... habit” your girlfriend mumbled ashamed before disappearing

A few minutes later you heard a quiet knock on the door and you tiredly opened it to see the pitiful face of your girlfriend

“Do not pity me Stanway” you said exhausted “Told you I hate flying”

“I just wish there was more I could do” Georgia said sadly

“You did more then everyone ever before...” you whispered accepting the bottle of water gratefully

“More than Lucy?” your girlfriend perked up

“Lucys asleep before we hit the runway... especially with early flights...” you mumbled after you rinsed your mouth twice

“Keira?” Georgia tried

“I never let her in” you admit and in this second Georgia realized how special this moment was – even if it costed it her whole willpower not to puke on your back

“I'll always take care of you... lets go back to our seats – you can rest some and I'll wake you up when we're landing okay” the blonde whispered and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead

“Kay... sounds good” you mumbled exhaustion clear in your voice as you let her lead you back to your seats

“Baby... wake up” Georgia shook you slightly as the captain told the crew to prepare for landing “... we're landing”

“Hm?” you grumbled your eyes slowly opening as you looked around confused

“We're landing... nearly home” your girlfriend smiled lovingly pushing you in a normal seating position

“Home?” you asked the sleep thick in your voice

“Yeah... just landing, getting our luggage and getting home...” Georgia confirmed intertwining your hands

“Good... I'm really hungry now” you answered still not fully aware of your surroundings

“I bet... nothing left in your stomach huh” your girlfriend chuckled

“Nope... dropped it somewhere over... I don't know.. maybe Berlin” you shrugged your shoulders getting more awake by the minute

“We didn't fly over Berlin” Georgia laughed

“Then some other German city... hope they didn't get offended or flashbacks...” you bit out and suddenly you felt the wheels of the plane connect with the runway in Munich “.... we're... already down”

“Yes... knew it would help to let you sleep as long as possible” your girlfriend grinned proudly

“I didn't sleep” you mumbled grumpy

“The patch of drool on me shoulder says something different” Georgias grin widen

“You probably spilled something on yourself” you huffed and rolled your eyes for good measure

“Mhm” your girlfriend grinned like a maniac now

“Hate you” you grumbled

“No you don't...” the blonde laughed and pressed a subtle kiss to your temple as the plane got in it's final parking position

“When do you have to be back at training?” you asked as you opened your seatbelt and nudged your girlfriend to do the same

“Tomorrow at 4....” Georgia answered as she stood up getting your carry-ons from the overhead cabs

“Sooooo... we have the rest of today AND tomorrow morning to our selves?” you grinned

“Oh god woman... what have you planned now?” your girlfriend exclaimed scared

“I'll break your knees if you call me “woman” ever again” you growled but Georgia saw the glint in your eyes before you playfully push her forward

“Why does baggage always takes so long??” you whined

“They unload about a 100 bags... relax Babe” Georgia said sitting in one of the chairs opposite to your baggage carousel turning on her phone “Text your sister that you're still alive”

“I'll text Kei later...” you answered starting to pace again

“Babe please... text Lucy so she knows I didn't kill you... she hates me anyway I don't want her to have stuff to add on top” your girlfriend pleaded

“Lucy... might not be happy with me either at the moment” you said carefully

“What? Why?” Georgia asked confused looking up from her phone

“She... didn't know about... this” you waved your hand around

“She WHAT now????” your girlfriend shot out of her seat

“It was Keira and Sarina... I didn't know either... Keira pushed Lucy through tickets before me and then told me... so Lucy was already through and just saw me... running off.... so I doubt me texting her will help our case” you confessed scratching your neck

“Oh dear jesus Mary mother of god” your girlfriend groaned “... she'll kill me... she'll think it was my idea.... she's probably already on her way to Munich... but... Munich is a big city... she'll never find me... I just... I... WitSec... do they have Witness Protection in Germany?”

“G... calm down... she won't... Keira wouldn't let it happen – Keira is in our corner and she's basically the only One who will get away with it because she's the only One who can make Lucy see reason...” you grabbed your girlfriends shoulders shaking her slightly “... and Witsec is American... so I don't think they have that here”

“Okay... yes... yes you're right” Georgia took a deep breath before her eye shot open wide in shock “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.... hide me”

“Huh??” you asked confused as G already started to pull you behind a pole positioning you in front of her as she crouched down “G?”

“Ssssshhhh...” she shushed you peaking out around your waist “If she sees me I'm fucked”

“Who??” you whisper yelled

“Oh Georgia” you suddenly heard a sing song from the other side of the pole and you saw all color leave your girlfriends face

“Shit” you heard Georgia swear before she pushed you to the side sprinting off

Next thing you knew a flash of blonde came around the pole and sprinting past you. You were confused to know end seeing a blonde woman chasing your girlfriend around the baggage carousel

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself watching how Georgia quickly cut a corner and jumped over some seats

“This an ex??” you asked loudly as your girlfriend was near you not knowing what to make out of this scenario

“God NO” Georgia yelled back jumping up when she saw that woman coming in for a slide tackle

“Crazy fan?” you tried again grabbing for information

“Something like that” your girlfriend answered before coming to a skitting halt next to you pulling you quickly in front of her using you as a human shield

“Talk to me woman” you growled seeing the other blonde walking over to you

“Magdalena Lilly Eriksson!!! I DARE you!!” you suddenly heard from your right and when you turned your head you saw an angry even blonder woman pointing aggressively towards the blonde woman in front of you

“But...” the slight darker blonde whined

“What the fuck is going on here??” you asked with a mixture of confusion and anger

“SHE” the darker blonde pointed at Georgia who was still hiding behind you “Ate my last Kanelbullar... and THEN she just fucked off”

“I swear I didn't know it was the last” your girlfriend piped up from behind you

“She what now??” you asked baffled

“Okay... stop... that poor girl is losing her mind right now” the lighter blonde said sternly turning towards you “Hi... my name is Pernille Harder... this hothead over there is my girlfriend Magdalena Eriksson... we play with Georgia at Bayern”

“Hardersson...” you exclaimed after a second that you needed to process that information “... I heard of you before”

“Yes... that's us” Pernille smiled warmly “And you... are?”

“Uh uh.. sorry... I swear Keira taught me manners.... y/n Bronze” you extended your hand to Pernille “... the best kept Secret in the Soccer world as it seems... or the better looking, younger and smarter Bronze”

Pernille grabbed your hand shaking it while she laughed heartwarmingly

“I do remember you... you were Lucys shadow when City played Chelsea...” the Danish smiled

“Now I'm just her pain in the ass... I upgraded meself” you grinned back which set off a fresh round of laughter

“So Pernille... Harder... better part of Hardersson... what do I call you?” you asked stumbling a little over your words

“P is just fine...” the lighter blonde laughed

“Okay... P... WHAT exactly is the problem here and why is Stanway using me as a human shield?” you asked teasing

“G ate Magdas last Kanelbullar... it's a Swedish... I would like to say dessert but they eat it at whatever time they feel like it... so I just say Swedish dish...” the Danish explained while her girlfriend had the biggest scowl on her face “Oh stop it Magda – I know for a fact that you stuffed your face with Kanelbullar the second your feet touched Swedish ground”

“That's NOT the point...” the swede grunted “... and how do you know about that anyway?”

“Frido AND Stina” Pernille waved off “... not to mention all the complaints from Zečira about all the crumbs in her bed...”

“These backstabbing...” the swede grumbled before her gaze locked on your girlfriend again “... you still...”

“Magda leave her alone...” Pernille said warningly and as much of a hard ass Magda was on the field – when her girlfriend used this tone she knew to listen

“Okay... for the stupid english over here” you pointed at yourself “... G ate what?”

“Kanelbullar” Magda grumbled “MY Kanelbullar”

“WHAT. IS. THAT??” you looked at the swede talking overly slowly like the blonde didn't speak fluent english

“It's a Swedish delicacy” the swede looked at you like you were stupid

“You guys stuff your face with fish that makes the whole WORLD puke... you could end wars with that stuff” you exclaimed “... so don't just say “Swedish delicacy”... EXPLAIN it”

“Ey... Surtrömming is eatable... you just need to wait after you opened the tin” Magda looks at you offended

“Okay.... you obviously don't get me” you said turning around fixing your girlfriend with a glare “You ate her last what now??”

“Kanel...” Georgia started

“If you just repeat that word I'll break your kneecaps...” you sneered your nostrils flared

“It's a Swedish... yeah.. zimtschnecke” your girlfriend quickly explained a little scared of you

“a what?” you started to lose your patience

“Zimtschnecke... you know... like Nussschnecke... just with... Zimt” Georgia looked at you lost shrugging her shoulders

“A WHAT??” your breathing picked up significantly as you heard Pernille chuckle behind you

“You ate that before! I saw you eat it” your girlfriend tried to calm you down

“Georgia” you heard Pernille chuckle “... maybe you should try to explain in english... you just used German... she doesn't look like she speaks German”

“Oh... OH” your girlfriends eyes widen “Cinnamon rolls... I ate her last cinnamon roll”

“Oh for god fucking sakes... all THAT because of a cinnamon roll???” you asked baffled

“She likes her cinnamon rolls” Georgia smiled apologetic

“Here...” you turned around to the Swedish player pulling a fiver out of your pockets “... buy yourself some cinnamon rolls... kindergarten.. seriously”

Magda was about to grab the money as Pernille just cleared her throat behind her girlfriend and the Swedish smiled at you

“That's very nice but not necessary... but thank you very much” Magda smiled strained which made her look like she has a stroke

“Suit yourself.... Stanway... luggage...” you grumbled not ready to deal with more bullshit and your girlfriend knew that – that why she stumbled away as quickly as possible trying to find your twos bags.

“I like you little Bronze” Pernille smiled “... good to know someone has at least some control over Georgia”

“She just scared of Lucy” you shrugged your shoulders watching your girlfriend – now in company of Magda – running around the baggage belt looking for your bag

“Because she's sleeping with her baby sister?” the Danish smirked

“Don't know what you're talking about” you said nonchalantly

“Oh but you do... but it's okay.... not all of us are as comfortable showing their relationship as Mags and I.. it's okay...” the Danish said warmly “... but I saw the way G looked at you... I KNOW that there's something going on”

“There's nothing going on...” you said neutral “... not for the next 14 month, 2 weeks and 9 days...”

“Oh really...” Pernille looked at you surprised “... and why is that?”

“That's the day I turn 18” you shrugged your shoulders your eyes still on your girlfriend

“Oh damn...” the Danish caught on immediately

“So... no.. there's nothing going on... we're just friends” you said but Pernille heard the strain in your voice

“Look at me” the blonde said a little more stricter and waited until you looked her in the eyes “I know we don't know each other but I won't tell a single soul and as long as it's just me and Magda around you two can be as open and as touchy as you want to be... you two love each other and we're not judging anyone... so if you want I would like to grab dinner sometimes... just the four of us”

“Thank you” you whispered gratefully “and dinner sounds go.... wait... we're getting take out right? No way I'm eating that Swedish fish”

“I'll cook... Magda would just burn down the house” the Danish laughed out loud

“G's the same... Keira told me they banned her from using the toaster because she nearly sat their shared apartment in Manc on fire... she tried to shortcut making fish fingers.... she didn't do them in the oven like every normal person but put them in the toaster and the toaster basically exploded” you told Pernille shrugging your shoulders unimpressed

“Magda managed to burn down the water cattle” Pernille smirked

“Wha... HOW?” your head snapped in the blondes direction shocked

“She didn't close the lid properly and it kept boiling.... and boiling... and boiling... until there was nothing left to boil except for itself” the Danish smirked at your expression

“We should get Bayern media team to make them cook and put it out there...” you grinned “... I mean she already gets shit for the half-Jamaican thing...”

“Please no... they probably injure themselves so badly they can't play anymore and you know we have Champions League coming up” Pernille said

“.... after maybe?” you mused innocently

“No...” the Danish said firmly and you huffed disappointed

“Ba... y/n... I found your bag” you girlfriend came running over dragging your bag behind her like an excited golden retriever

“Good job” you cooed “... I'll make sure Pernille gets you a cookie”

“Why me?” the blonde looked at you frazzled

“I'm not getting in trouble with our Health and Nutrition Coach” you lifted your hands in a surrounding matter “You're not English... she can't make you run laps”

“If Stanway gets a cookie I want one too.. I got our bags” Magda suddenly appeared behind Georgia

“No one gets cookies” Pernille sighed out

“Spoilsport” your girlfriend mumbled

“Glädjemördare” Magda mumbled at the same time just as disappointed as Georgia

“Excuse me Magda Eriksson?” Pernille raised her eyebrow at her girlfriend “You do realize we're dating long enough for me to actually speak and UNDERSTAND Swedish yes?”

“What did she dare you to?” you looked interested

“She didn't dare me to do anything?” the Danish looked at you confused

“She said gibberish gibberish dare” you said like it was clear what you meant

“No søde... she said “glädjemördare”... Swedish for “joy killer”...” Pernille laughed at your language confusion

“Great... another confusing language” you rolled your eyes “Can't you guys just stick with english?”

“I can teach you all the swear words... so you can annoy Frido” Magda grinned

“You will do no such thing” Pernille scolded her girlfriend

“You will absolutely do such thing” you grinned widely

“Ehrm... y/n?” Georgia looked at you

“Yeah??” you looked at her confused

“Home?” your girlfriend asked

“Yeah... day was emotionally exhausting” you said yawning

“Will we see you tomorrow at training?” Pernille asked you

“Think so...” you shrugged your shoulders “... apparently I'm not allowed exploring by meself anymore”

“I'm not taking any chances for you to end up at the botanic garden again” Georgia exclaimed (Note: the “old botanic garden” is one of the most dangerous parts of Munich)

“It was a mistake... your directions weren't clear” you defended yourself

“I told you ENGLISH garden... not botanical!!” Georgia bursted out

“It a garden isn't it???” you asked lost

“But the wrong one...” your girlfriend pressed quiet stressed

“Yeah... you shouldn't go there søde... it's really dangerous” Pernille said seriously

“It wasn't on purpose... Georgia talked about that beautiful garden and I just googled garden and that was the nearest one...” you defended yourself “And why are you calling me soda?”

“Søde...” the Danish corrected while she ushered all of you towards the exit “... Danish”

“Great... ANOTHER language...” you huffed as you exit the baggage area to get met with quite a large crowd of fans “Oh lovely... fans... a lot of them”

“You're not a fan?” the Danish blonde asked a little alarmed

“Not really no...” you shook your head falling back a little letting Georgia go in front “... had some not so nice interactions with them”

“Magda” Pernille pulled her girlfriend back “Make sure she's okay...”

“Yes ma'am” the swede nodded seriously

“Just stay with Magda... fans get really quiet around her because she always has this scowl on her face... she'll make sure you're save” the Danish told you and pushed you next to her girlfriend

The Swedish blonde laid her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her side which you surprisingly accepted gratefully and let her lead you towards the crowd of fans

“When it gets to much tug on my shirt okay... I get you out of there in seconds” Magda mumbled through her smile she put on for some pictures

“As long as they don't invade my space too much it should be okay” you said quietly “... or touch me...”

Georgia was already in full fan interaction mode, signing stuff, taking selfies, talking to the fans a little – full package. Pernille was also signing some Jerseys and pictures while Magda tried to keep you out of the middle of the crowd. Your girlfriend glanced up every five seconds to check if you're okay even tho she knew Magda was like a pit-bull when it comes to keep people safe – nearly as bad as Lucy. But just nearly. Lucy was a whole other level.

“Magda” you whispered and you saw how the swede turned her head lightly obviously waiting for you to continue while she took some more pictures “... getting too much”

Immediately you got pulled along through the crowd and sat in the next chair that was empty while some Police were slandering over asking if everything was okay. Of course they knew who Magda was so when she told them you were on the verge of a panic attack (so not true) they offered some protection. You were so SO grateful that Magda got you out of the bunch of crazies as you call them ever since you were little and some fans ran you over you to get some autographs from Lucy – got you a free ride in the ambulance and then seven stitches to the back of your head and a free concussion on top. Since that day Lucy made sure she either carried you (which heated up the rumors about you being her daughter) or sat you on top of the baggage trolley. Now Magda took over the responsibility to keep you safe and damn she took it seriously. There was a girl about your age that started her way over to her but one glare from Magda made her change directions quickly.

“Thank you” you mumbled a little ashamed

“No problem... I know they can get a lot sometimes – even if the Bayern fans are pretty well behaved... most of the times” the swede smiled sitting down next to you “... so... you're staying with G?”

“Yeah... needed some time off” you nodded

“Off what?” the blonde asked interested

“Barcelona” you said biting your lip

“Spanish people are something else huh” Magda kept the interaction light

“Yes... you could say that” you answered quietly

“I would love to see you at training tomorrow” the blonde said suddenly “.. you make her better”

“Huh?” you looked up confused

“Georgia... she's different when you're around... better different....” the blonde said “... in love different”

“Dear jesus lord have mercy” you sighed “... not you too – is it that obvious?”

“Not to people who haven't experienced love...” Magda smiled “... but the way you look at each other - that's love Busunge”

“Did you just insult me? It sounded like an insult” you looked baffled

“No...” the swede laughed “... it means “little rascal”...”

“Why is everyone giving me weird nicknames?” you wondered out loud

“Because you are loved... I've only known you for about half an hour but it feels like I've known you forever and I want to protect you.. you have a pure soul and people see that” Magda said calmly

“Okay... now it gotten weird” you mumbled looking over to your girlfriend “... I'm not confirming nor denying anything...”

“You don't need to...” the swede smiled laying her hand on your knee in silent support “... I already know... and don't worry – no one will hear a word from me”

“Thank you” you whispered thankfully as you saw your girlfriend approaching the two of you

“Ready to go home?” Georgia asked smiling herself

“Sí” you nodded standing up “Thank you Magda... it really means a lot”

“Always Busunge... Stanway... protect her with all you have” the blonde looked at Georgia seriously and G nodded curtly

Meanwhile Lucy, Keira and the Barca woman landed in Barcelona with Keira still ignoring her ex-girlfriend. After they all got their bags and said their goodbyes Keira put herself in Lucys way

“You with me... we have something to talk about” the blonde sneered keeping her voice low

“Ona drives me home” your sister said a little scared

“No she's not... I told you we're gonna talk” Keira said simply

“But...” Lucy tried again but got shot down with just one look

“Ona can come too if she wants to” the blonde said looking at her friend

“Ehrm...” the small spaniard rubbed the back of her neck “... I actually... yeah... uh... I have to pick Coco up... yes.. See you later Babe”

And with that she was gone and left Lucy fearing for her life. She saw that look on Keiras face once before – when fans were a little too excited to see the Lionesses and pushed you around and hurt you in progress. This look on Keiras face means business. The drive to Lucys apartment was short and not enjoyable for the england defender. The atmosphere in the car was icy at best and Lucy wrecked her brain what she could've done that would make her ex that angry

“Unlock” Keira simply said gesturing to the door which Lucy follow suit and quickly unlocked it pushing it open so the blonde could step inside before following

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Keira turned around looking even more furious than before after the door fell shut

“What?” your sister asked dumb folded

“I ask... WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??” the blonde now outright yelled

“I... can't follow” Lucy said confused

“Who do you think you are sabotaging your sister relationship like this?” Keira asked again

“I didn't...” your sister started to defend herself

“Oh you fucking did and you know it... do you know that the WHOLE TEAM planned their little getaway from you Lucy... THE. WHOLE. FUCKING. TEAM... Sarina including... you didn't even noticed how hurt Bitsy was when you shooed G away every morning at breakfast. Or how sad she got when G didn't even take her hand when we were watching analysis... Or that six out of seven days y/n came to ME crying herself to sleep at night why YOU were so angry at her and G and she seriously thought about ending it so YOU would be her sister again and not some mental deranged cunt” now Keira got really angry

“Ehrm...” at this point Lucy was at loss for words

“... you didn't realize that hurtful look in Bitsys eyes whenever you pushed yourself in between them two... YOU didn't... the rest of the Team did and Sarina helped them... your own coach helped the Team to work something out which didn't benefit you, did it now?” the blonde kept talking ignoring Lucys attempts to interrupt her “... so again... who the hell do you think you are hurting them like that?”

“I... didn't mean too” your sister started “... I just... every time I saw G near her I got so so scared she'd hurt her”

“YOU were the one hurting her Lucy” Keira pressed again

“Not on purpose!!” Lucy exclaimed “But.. it's G you know...”

“It's G... exactly... the woman who loves Bitsy with all her heart... with all her being... with everything she has... the woman who jump off a building for her or walk the Antarctica in shorts... the woman who makes sure to give her more love than she can actually offer to make up for YOUR stupid behavior...” the blonde said seriously “... she LOVES her Lucy... it makes me so sad that you can't see what we all see... these two... they are their forever Lucy....”

“That's what we thought about ourselves too one time” your sister said just as serious

“We both know that's a lie... we both realized pretty quickly that we're not our forever... but they are Lucy... just like Ona and you... G is everything to Bitsy... and more” Keira said turning around before stopping again the door handle already in her hand “... everyone needs a G in their life Lucy... I hope you don't fuck it up with yours and see that she's your forever just like G is Bitsys”

With that Keira left leaving a gob smacked Lucy behind who used the next best cupboard to sit down

“Home sweet Home” you sighed as you stepped into Georgias flat after her “... and OCD clean as always”

“Had to clean before I left” your girlfriend mumbled looking through her mail

“Babe... I love you... but you ALWAYS clean... I swear we could do a surgery in here” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen opening the fridge “... we need to go shopping”

“God Damnit fucking fuck shit” you suddenly heard Georgia swear

“What happened?” you quickly walked into the living room not used to your girlfriend swearing so openly – the occasional “fuck” yes but that?!

“I got a speeding ticket!!” your girlfriend exclaimed upset holding the letter into your face

You didn't know how to react so you did the first thing that came to mind – you bursted out laughing as you took the letter from her looking at the little black and white picture on it

“What did that picture cost you Stanway?” you laughed

“You have to give it back so I can look” your girlfriend grumbled as you already handing the letter back “... 178,50€ and a one month suspension.... fuck”

“What does that mean?” you asked looking over her shoulder

“I have to hand in me license for a month....” Georgia was pissed now – pissed at herself

“You know that you could get better pictures of yourself from fans for free right... you didn't have to do a shooting that's so expensive” you grinned smugly

“Not in the mood Baby” your girlfriend growled

“Hey... G... Baby” you softly said seeing how tense her body was “... it happened okay... nothing you can do about it... it just means you have to go to training with public transport – or maybe someone can pick you up”

“It's not that... I'm pissed at meself” Georgia grumbled her Manchester accent coming in thick

“Shit happens... I can drive if you want” you shrugged your shoulders

“I'm not giving you my Audi... I saw what that stunt guy taught you” your girlfriend looked at you shocked

“So... public transport it is then... we need to go shopping” you shrugged your shoulders walking towards the bedroom and you heard Georgia groan loudly

“What's that?” you pointed at some weird looking steaming mass at the meat counter

“Leberkäse” Georgia said “It's translated to liver cheese but it hasn't got any cheese in there... it's just meat.. normally served warm in a bun with sweet mustard”

“Sounds.... yummy” you pulled a disgusted face but smiled as soon as the saleslady looked over

“It's not bad... you wanna try it?” your girlfriend shrugged her shoulders

“No thank you” you said shaking your head slightly

“You want something else to eat? Schnitzel or Bratwurst?” Georgia asked again getting excited that for once she's the one who knew all the food instead of you

“Can't we just get some vegs and make some pasta?” you looked at your girlfriend pleadingly

“Since when are you voluntarily eat vegetables?” the blonde looked at you confused

“This looks all so.... much” you said ashamed looking at the meat counter

“We can share a Bratwurst if you like... like.. to go and then make something at home” your girlfriend offered “.... cause I'm starving”

“You're always starving” you rolled your eyes “... but sounds good”

“Okay...” Georgia smiled turning towards the saleslady “Hallo... eine Bratwurt im Brötchen bitte”

“You sound like you're choking when you speak german” you said flatly

“You want ketchup or mustard?” Georgia chose to ignore your comment looking at you expectantly

“Is it like.. a must?” you eyed the sausage carefully

“Of course not...” your girlfriend shook her head addressing the saleslady again “Entschuldigung.. wir brauchen noch eine moment”

“Des is koa problem – nehmts eich nur Zeit... wir han schliaßlich ned auf da flucht” the lady smiled

“Whatever she said” you mumbled confused “What did she say?”

“I have... a slight clue but I'm not sure – I think she said to take our time” Georgia looked a little bit lost too

“I thought you spoke German” you shook your head at her in disbelieve

“That was Bavarian... I can speak tiny little bit Bavarian... but not.. like sentence” your girlfriend answered

“Gosh... it's like Lucy and catalan all over again...” you rolled your eyes

“Ketchup? Mustard? Nothing?” Georgia asked you again

“Well... I don't know... what's authentic?” you looked again at the sausage – this was answer enough for your girlfriend

“Senf bitte” she smiled proudly at the saleslady

“Oamoi mit senf... basst” the woman smiled and squeezed an awful amount of Mustard on the sausage “Bittschee... da hobt's eier bratwurst... zwoadreisge mochts”

“Dankeschön” Georgia smiled and handed the lady some cash in trade with the sausage roll “Das passt so”

“Mei merce dia derndl” the lady smiled brightly

“Take a bite” your girlfriend looked at you with excitement “It's really good”

“It's... spicy” you said after you took a bite handing the roll back to Georgia

“So you don't like it?” her face fell slightly

“No no... it's good... just... different you know” you quickly said “... I've never had a sausage like this”

“Oh yeah... it's a weird taste at first.. but you'll love it soon – it's the best... what's also good, but A LOT is schweinshaxe” Georgia smiled happily

“Come again?” you choked on your water

“Schweinshaxe... it's deep fried pigs leg.. it's REALLY good but you need about four people to eat one portion” your girlfriend snickered at your shocked face

“A pigs leg....” you swallowed hard trying not to heave

“Trust me... sounds disgusting but is REALLY good” Georgia said as she took your hand starting towards the shopping center with her sausage roll in the other hand

Two hours later you sighed in relieve once you kicked the front door closed with your foot. You've never been a fan of shopping. But shopping in a big ass shopping mall with five million shops for everything and some more with 35 million people around who obviously understand you just to answer your questions in german was just too much for you. Also – half the stuff they sell you never heard off. For example “Obazda”. Never heard of it but apparently it's the shit under the locals. Georgia made you try it and you were 97.8% positive cyanide wouldn't taste much different. G explained that it was basically just cream cheese with brie cheese and some spices but you were sure that stuff was poisonous. Your girlfriend laughed tears when she saw your face and heard the sounds you made after you put that little testing spoon in your mouth. The second you could talk again – after you cleared your mouth with Spezi – you threatened your girlfriend with no sex for the next six month which cause G to buy you some weird looking sweet dish. She called it “Auszogne” - it was weird looking but oh SO tasty.

Back in Georgias apartment you dropped all the shopping bags and just fell face forward onto the couch with a loud grunt

“You okay?” your girlfriend poked her head inside

“Just tired” you mumbled into the pillows

“I'll quickly put away the groceries and cook something okay... stay there and rest” Georgia said and went into the kitchen

“Okay” you sighed relaxing instantly – until your brain registered what she just said and you shot up and off the couch into the kitchen “no!”

“No?” your girlfriend asked confused “No what?”

“I cook... you just... put the stuff away” you said quickly

“I can cook” Georgia said a little offended

“The last time you set fire to the potatoes” you deadpanned “FIRE G – I didn't even know potatoes could burn even less catch fire”

“They were dry from the beginning” your girlfriend defended herself

“No Baby... they weren't... so you do groceries I do food” you smirked and Georgia rolled her eyes and grumbled a little bit as she started to put away the shopping

“Fuck me” your girlfriend moaned as she ate the first fork of the dinner you made

“Been there – done that” you smirked but started to eat too

“Where and when did you learn to do.... that?” Georgia gestured in between your plates

“Making pasta? Pretty much when Lucy fled to Spain and left me to fend for me own” you said shrugging your shoulders

“She didn't flee.... she did what was right for her career” G looked at you “... like when I went to Munich... sometimes you have to make decisions you don't really wanna make”

“Yeah I get that... it was the way it happened” you said avoiding your girlfriends eyes

“What do you mean?” Georgia looked confused before taking another fork full of pasta

“You know how I found out Lucy was transferred to Barcelona? Through the media... she didn't tell me herself – I found out through Instagram” you said and G noticed how your voice changed

“Hey... calm down” your girlfriend said taking your hand on the table “... maybe she just didn't know how to tell you...”

“She had no problem telling me she's going to Lyon” you pointed out

“I... don't know what her reasons were but I'm sure she had some” Georgia said a little lost

“Oh I can tell you the reason... the reason was.... is... Ona Batlle” you smiled sarcastic “... You know Lucy and Keira basically split after the Euros... and like.. 8 month later there's the first speculation about a new girl at her side??”

“Ehrm....” now you lost Georgia completely

“Sorry... I really don't want to talk about Lucy.... what are tomorrows plans?” you took a deep breath “And more importantly... where is Giovanni”

“Tomorrow... training at 4... other than that? Nothing?” your girlfriend was glad about the topic change “... and Giovanni... waiting in the bedroom for you”

“Perfect... didn't you tell me you wanted to take me out for breakfast?” you smirked sweetly

“Oh I see how it is... spending all me money why don't you” Georgia rolled her eyes smiling

“Says the woman who has to pay a 180 bucks fine for speeding” you shot back

“And here I thought you love me” your girlfriend grumbled offended

“I do love you... I've never cooked for anyone else than myself before” you pointed your fork at her a slight glint in her eyes

“And it's delicious...” Georgia quickly said

“I better fucking hope so.... I kinda want to do that for a living one day” you answered smiling

“You do?” your girlfriend looked at you surprised

“Yeah.... since Keira left too I was looking after myself – so I started to cook

“Morning...” you heard Georgia mumble into your neck pulling you closer into her

“Go back to sleep... it's still dark outside” you grumbled but melted into her

“That... are the blinds Baby... it's actually 9” your girlfriend chuckled

“Ugh fuck me... you're awake aren't you?” you groaned

“Yeah...” Georgia said a little embarrassed

“Ugh” you groaned again “... go... running or something... I want to sleep”

“I thought about taking you out for breakfast... I promise it's worth it... Avo-Toasts as many as you can eat” your girlfriend nuzzled into your neck

“Orange juice?” you asked your eyes still closed

“As much as you can drink” you could feel G grin into the back of your neck “... and a shower before we leave”

“I swear Stanway if you drag me out of bed for a shitty coffee I tell Lucy we had sex with her sleeping on the couch” you grinned evilly and your grin widened when you felt your girlfriend tense behind her

“You... wouldn't right?” Georgia asked carefully knowing fully well which situation you talked about

“Get me good coffee and I won't.... my dear” you said sweetly as you stood up walking towards the bathroom leaving your baffled girlfriend behind before turning around “You coming?”

Seconds later you heard the blankets rustle and Georgias naked feet on the hard wood floor.

“Oh god... this is GOOD” you moaned shamelessly at your first sip of coffee

“Could you please not act like you're shooting a porn right now... it's just coffee” Georgia said turning bright red looking around if someone looks

“You should be able to tell me moans apart Stanway” you shot back not caring who's listening – you haven't even had your first coffee yet

“Oh god” your girlfriend groaned embarrassed “Just... keep drinking...”

“What a sight for sore eyes” you suddenly heard behind you and your head shot up

“Seriously??? Munich has like... 500 million people and YOU find me amongst them?” you asked the person behind you without turning around

“I told you... I'll always be able to find you... Liefje” the person answered and you could hear the smirk in her voice

“You sound like a stalker... and don't call me Liefje... only ONE Gouda-head is allowed to call me that – and the last time you weren't her” you smirked as well still with your back to that persona

“I'm gonna tell your precious Head coach you called her a Gouda-head...” the person said a little offended

“Oh I called her far worse to her face... so by all means... be me guest” you continued smirking

“I gladly be your guest” the person said pulling a chair over to your table and flopping down trying to steal your coffee

“First and only warning... If you try to grab me coffee again I'm going to shoot your feet with a nailgun” you growled holding your cup out of her reach

“Hello too you to Baijings” now Georgia grumbled feeling left out

“What's up Stanny?” the Netherlands player grinned opting for stealing half of your avocado toast

“May I ask why you crush our breakfast?” your girlfriend asked a little irritated

“Actually just walked past and saw that... sweetheart over here through the windows and thought I'd say hi...” the blonde said before biting into your toast “Shit that's good stuff” she moaned which made you laugh

“Stop moaning like you shooting a porn” you threw your girlfriends words in your friends face laughing

“Sweetie... you know what I sound like when I REALLY moan” the dutch threw back which caused Georgia to choke on her tea

“Excuse me?” your girlfriend coughed

“Get your mind out of the gutter Stanny...” the blonde waved off “... I stayed with Viv in England for a week and so did the gremlin here... apparently the walls were very thin”

“Scarred me for life” you mumbled disgusted before you tried to bite into the other half of your Avo-toasts only to have it taken out of your hand by Jill “Come on now” you whined

“You snooze you lose” the dutch shrugged her shoulders

“G...” you whined looking with puppy eyes at your girlfriend “... por favor”

“Por what?” your girlfriend looked confused

“Damnit... spaniard again.... these paella eating shrimp lovers mushed me brain....” you snipped your fingers “.. please...”

Your girlfriend just sighed and waved the waitress over to order you another avocado toast.

“German sounds so weird...” you said as a matter of fact after the waitress whose Nametag said her name was Dinara left again “... but not as weird as dutch”

“Excuse me?” Jill exclaimed starting to cough a second later

“Please die more quietly on that toast thank you” you smirked satisfied that you threw her off guard

“One day I'll get you back for all those mean comments I tell ya” the blonde pointed an accusing finger at you

“Be... my... guest” you grinned

“Are you happy to wait here Baby?” Georgia asked her voice low as you just found a seat in the shade at the Bayern trainings ground

“Sure... I'm gonna watch you and tell you afterwards if you're able to be a pain to Barca” you grinned and your girlfriend quickly looked left and right before pressing a lightning quick kiss to your cheek

“There she is.. my favorite player” Alexander greeted you happily and came over to hug you for your girlfriend to look absolutely offended

“I'm here too” she huffed out

“We all know she's my favorite... nice work with Rubiales... looked like you got him good... did he need stiches?” the Norwegian asked grinning widely

“Sadly not.. but it was definitely broken” you grinned proudly back

“Such an amazing bitch move” the Trainer couldn't stop grinning

“Thank you... just to let you know... I don't hold back for anyone...” you now smirked

“So Georgia... starting XI the whole season... how does that sound?” the Norwegian laughed understanding you immediately

Your girlfriend just huffed rolled her eyes and turned to leave

“You need more than her if you want to scratch Barcas ego” you looked at him seriously “I watched them train... you need something”

“Giving me tips so we can win over your sister?” the trainer grinned

“No... I'm giving you tips so you can annoy them...” you shrugged your shoulders “They won two titles already... they only have the Coppa and the Champions League left... I want you to at least annoy them... and not annoy them with rough play – I want you to annoy them with your skills... Harder, Eriksson, Stanway, Viggó, Guili... you got good players... use them”

“Give me a little more” the man got serious

“The player you want to have an eye on is Salma... don't let her run – she a freaking sprinter... have a player on her all the time... Caro is fast as well... she always comes over the right wing... her connection to Aitana is unmatched...” you started seriously “... Alexia is dangerous in general – from far, near or in private... don't let her get the ball on her left foot... Ona and Aitana are dangerous because they're small and agile – one second they're on you right and a split second later they're on your right... they all have an amazing ball control... but they're not.. flawless” you pulled a face when you said flawless getting a flashback.

“Thanks y/n... greatly appreciated” the Norwegian nodded and left to start training

You watched the girl train for a bit before closing your eyes relaxing in the shade with the players shouting for the ball or the pass or whatever. Lucy always said since you were a wee baby you were able to fall asleep with thousands of people screaming around you without any problems. When it would be quiet tho you screamed your head off yourself – up to this day you didn't like it when it was totally quiet. So even now it wasn't a problem for you to nap away until you felt a presence in front of you. When you opened one eye you saw your slightly panting girlfriend leaning on the railing smiling at you

“Yeah?” you asked a little dazed

“We're done... I'm heading for the shower... you wait here or outside?” Georgia smiled

“Gonna wait here... got comfortable” you yawned

“Okay... Gonna be quick” your girlfriend smiled pushing herself off the railing walking into the tunnel

You looked around and noticed you were really alone at the trainings facility. You were alone except for a stray ball in the corner. One for being raised with cleaning up a field after training you slandered over to the ball and picked it up. What you didn't expect was that the ball slipped out of your hands and bounces off the ground. Like on autopilot you started to do keep upsies while walking down the sideline. The ball bounced off your feet easily until you didn't got the angle right and it bounced away further into the field. You jogged after it kicking it up again before catching it on your forehead balancing it a little before letting the ball fall again catching it this time with the inside of your right foot holding it there for a second before starting to perform a few tricks.

Unknowns to you Georgia came back wanting to get you so you could go home to find you walking down the sideline playing with a ball. She quickly pulled out her phone starting to record a video when the ball bounced off your foot wrongly and rolled into the middle of the field. Your girlfriend thought you were done know knowing from stories how easily irritated you became at times but to her surprise you kept going. So she kept filming. After watching (and filming) you some more your girlfriend carefully retreated back into the tunnel giving you some more time with the ball for the first time in what felt to you like forever. Even tho you didn't play for over three years know you still could feel it. The way the ball bounces on your foot. The way the grass felt under your soles. The strength you needed to play it higher. You remembered it all.

When you were done you chipped the ball into one of the ball containers on the side of the field before making your way towards the tunnel and the locker rooms.

“Stanway...” you said entering the locker room to find everyone gone except your girlfriend who just dried her hair “... Babe you're still not done??” you whined

“Yeah sorry... got caught up with Guilia” your girlfriend smiled apologetic

“I'm getting hungry” you said and right on cue your stomach rumbled

“Yeah lets go..” Georgia said getting her bag and holding out her hand for you to take

“I thought Chinese...” you said as the door closed behind you not knowing your girlfriend send her video all the way to Barcelona to her best friend who received the message with the capture

When Keira clicked on the video tears sprung immediately into her eyes and she began to silently happy cry

“I think she's home”

[nunap]

European, latam, African and south Asian stays especially those that contributed the most for skz success being cut out completely by jype and whoever is behind the no videos in venues and touring dates

[soaringthoughts]

:: A MISFORTUNE'S VESSEL. ( chapter 1 )

lowercase intended. CONTENT WARNING: depressing topics, implied deaths. PAIRINGS: aqua hoshino x reader A/N: MINOR changes on the plot in order to squeeze the reader in and make the plot make sense, such as: reader is the daughter of Miyako and Ichigo Saitou. this is the only change I made in the plot so it doesn’t affect the main stream of Oshi No Ko that much. POV is second person pov. reader is AFAB. english is not my first language so expect some grammar errors. usage of [name] instead of Y/N. reader is addressed by name instead of pronouns.

story starts with the reader already knowing Aqua from his past life (Goro Amamiya) and will only focus on that for the meanwhile, next chapter will be Aqua.

my first fanfic! open for criticisms. word count: 3,079 words

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a disappointment. that's what you're always labeled as. you've already reached the age range wherein you're finally capable of getting hired in a job, but of course, you can't get yourself one. didn't finish college either, makes you wonder how vast your parents' patience must be to let you keep living under their roof despite not returning the favor of their great care by accomplishing something. and just as if the world was opposing you, you got caught in a car crash on your way home from a job interview.

perhaps you are binded by fate to just stare at the solid concrete ceiling of your hospital room.

………….

“my [name]..” the guttural whines of worry from your mother will live rent-free on your head. it was the hint of concern and worry in your parents' words that's evident in their voice, but it was only the glint of dismay in their half-lidded eyes that you saw.

you absolutely see no point in living now. you've always been a disappointment for your family the whole time, and now, you even made things worse by practically forcing them to charge for your hospital fees.

dealing with both fatal, incapacitating injuries, and heart failure was a rough circumstance for you, and it only doubles the fees that your parents need to charge.

your mind was all stirred from all these heavy thoughts as the guilt continued to consume you, perhaps the world got stuck in an endless time loop to maintain your suffering on purpose.

“I won't be surprised if your body stays frozen like that for hours.” it's almost as if a shrieking noise snapped you out from your thoughts the moment you heard your doctor spoke. you remained silent however, not the slightest bit of word slipping out of your mouth. this doctor was getting on your nerves lately. you were never a fan of small talks nor a conversation itself. you always thought that drowning in your thoughts while getting lost in your own little world as your eyes are solely focused on the scenery across the window was better.

“Do I have something to say?” your remark was thrown off in a sarcastic manner as your gaze was still fixated on the window, which only raised a hint of concern on his face further. but his expression remained neutral.

“You've been staring at the window for an hour. It wont hurt to initiate a conversation from time to time.” he let out a ragged exhale. was he also getting tired of you? of course. he's been guarding you in your room for hours after all, you still don't know why but perhaps it's to keep you company and to have someone present in case there's something wrong with your injury.

“…” it was the pause of silence that's somehow clear and tranquil within the walls of the room. he was right. you are worn out by the boredom, too, so maybe, just maybe, you'll get some source of entertainment if you finally speak. “Doc, have you ever felt like the whole world is against you?” maybe his eyebrows raised in amusement. maybe it was because he found you weird. but it's either of the latter.

“..The world has to be unfair to everyone in some aspects. It's not just us who experience it.” you aren't sure whether it was the answer you were looking for, but his response intrigued you. he isn't so bad for an 'old' doctor after all, you thought. "And if you please, just call me Goro." he followed up after.

“Wouldn't that be unprofessional?” you immediately detached your eyes off of the window to dart it at his for a moment, and the first thing that you saw was the startled and surprised expression written all over his face. “Are you serious all the time?” he shot back in a questioning manner. although it might sound a little offending, to you at the least, you only let out a slight laugh at his remark. “I thought we're supposed to be professional with doctors. It would sound off to refer to you as a mere friend.” you asked back again with that slight smile now evident on your face.

“Well, that's for other doctors, I suppose.” Goro responded with a shrug. you hummed at the answer, maybe he prefers to be casual unlike the others. that would indeed open up a path for you two to get along. "I'm-" just as you were about to say your name in return, he interrupted you. “[Name]. I already know from your documents, so no bother.” I can't tell whether he is bragging about that or.. you thought to yourself as you felt your eye slightly twitch at his straightforwardness.

“So, [Name]. What do you think of the entertainment industry?”

“Why'd you ask?”

“Just a question, really. I have this patient of mine that's obsessed with a certain idol.”

“Ai Hoshino?” Goro's eyebrows raised at your sudden response. it's almost as if he wasn't expecting it, but deep down, he knows that Ai is way too popular to not be known by everyone.

“Don't tell me you're obsessed with her too?”

“Not obsessed. I just admire her.”

“As for the entertainment industry, I know for sure that the way they operate behind the scenes is a mess. I'm not even an idol nor an actor myself but I can tell that the impression they display in public is fake.” Goro seemed to be fascinated by your words, his face obviously plastered with a look of both amusement and interest as he stared at you in silence for a brief moment.

“How can you te-” you could've sworn that the time was ticking slow. but before you realized it, the sun was about to hide behind the arms of the horizon as the rays of the sunlight lit through the window. Goro was interrupted mid sentence as well when he noticed this. “Ah, too bad I have to go.” he simply said as he got up from his seat and dusted off his coat.

"Already?" you frowned a little at this, considering that you're finally intrigued to talk to someone after for what's been like years.

"It's just the end of my shift. I'll be present tomorrow." there was a slight smile curved up on his lips before leaving the room, and boy, you felt at ease hearing those words.

………………………………………………..

you didn't know whether to feel happy or upset now that you only have a day left before you'll get discharged from the hospital. you didn't want to burden your parents anymore longer, but why are you upset now that you're finally free once again? there's this something in you that makes you want to stay more. or maybe it's just your attachment to Goro? you don't know.

just as when you are once again drowning in your thoughts, you got snapped back to reality by someone's voice. it's him.

"What are you doing all the way up here at this hour?" you immediately recognized his voice. you wanted to hear it more often─ but too bad, you just can't stay here just because you want to.

the gentle breeze of the countryside air softly swayed your hair locks back and forth. the rooftop of the hospital was dim and was only illuminated by the ray of the moonlight, hovering over the figure of the both of you as Goro kept staring at you from a distance.

and of course, you just felt like being sarcastic for one more remark, "Is it so bad to chill on the hospital's rooftop before my discharge?" his chuckle was completely audible despite the soaring roars of the wind and the continuous noises of the vehicles over the roads.

sure, it's loud here on the rooftop caused by those sounds, but that doesn't matter since it's his voice that your ears can only hear well.

"I suppose it would carve a memorial to make this our usual spot before your discharge."

"I'm not yet dead, you know." you surely are going to miss his jokes once you get out.

"I know, I know." the rooftop was immediately radiating with a positive aura as you both laughed. "Well? What are you gonna do now that you're back to your usual life?" he closed the stairway door and made his way to you, leaning over the railings as he stared into nothingness.

"…" there was a brief silence once again as the wind continued to leap through the garments of your clothing and hair. your chest heaved as you exhaled, also walking over the railing as you leaned on it beside him. "I don't even know. Not like I had a plan anyway." just the thought of getting discharged and living back to your normal life irks you. the same old, repetitive, dull, and 'being' a disappointment days will return. It will return now that you're out of the hospital just right when you already found someone who understands you well. you expected this from the start. good experiences come and go, but you still can't gather the wits to accept it.

"You know, I can't seem to do anything right even if I try hard. I always surge into actions with preparation and always come back empty-handed. It must be nice to live a life wherein you are blessed with skills and luck."

Goro knew that you had some depth in your words. you've told him about your struggle in finding a job and the results of your entrance exams in college before, so he immediately knew how to respond to you.

"A caterpillar must undergo a dissatisfying process before eventually blooming into a beautiful butterfly." his eyes were glistening with sincerity as he muttered those words out. although he was still staring into nothingness and eventually into the starry night skies, you just fixated your gaze on him.

"You can't be saying that."

"I can be saying that."

"But the caterpillar's progress will go to waste when a human steps on it."

"That caterpillar will remain wounded but still manage to live."

"It can still die after being stepped on."

"And it can still live after being stepped on."

"Why are we talking about caterpillars?"

"Because you're the caterpillar we're pertaining to." you quickly lost it and let out a laugh at Goro's remark this time. you knew he was referring to you, but why were you two talking about caterpillars instead? "Seriously, the caterpillar will die."

"Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated." his response this time was tacky, you can't help but laugh at it. of course his words were obviously laced with sarcasm, but you couldn’t help but see a fragment of hope in his words.

and for the first time in your life, fate resided within you. because guess who got reincarnated as the child of the president of an entertainment production.

“She is beautiful.” those were the first words you heard the moment you regained your consciousness and maintained the track of the world. and a pair of rosewood eyes were the first thing you laid your eyes on.

your mother was welcoming. your father, on the other hand, “Let’s just hope this won’t hinder our work.” you didn’t really have anything to say to him. perhaps he was just worn out from his work. he is the president of his company after all.

“Sorry about that, [Name]. Your father’s just immersed in his work. I’ll be the one who will take care of you by then. Although I’ll have to take you with me to the home of our company’s prized star to also keep watch for two of her children.”

not only is your father drowning in a stack of work to do, your mother is also forced to be in charge of taking care of children. it seems like she doesn’t like the duty of being a babysitter, you can tell it by her face and the way her chest heaved when she sighed. so you swore to yourself that you will behave well and remind the 2 other kids to do so as well.

strangely, you still remember how you lived your past life. your family, your memories, the time of your death, the place of your death. all of it is still fresh on your mind.

the world really does hate you, from your beginning and even until your end. you can’t accept the fact that the last memorable thing you had before your death was that conversation you had with Goro on the hospital’s rooftop. he told you that he’s in charge of delivering the babies of Ai the day before that, and that he is also supposed to guard you afterwards. but you never saw him come.

it was as if fate was playing you in its hands that they decided to give you a heart attack at that exact time. there were no doctors present as the rest of them were dealing with the other patients, so you were only treated by the inexperienced nurses.

you expected Goro to come, but you remembered that he is dealing with the giving birth of Ai.

“Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated.” it’s silly how those were the last words that flashed on your mind before your heart gave up. perhaps that interaction you had with him on the rooftop really was something special after all.

“Are you ready to meet them, [Name]?” it hasn’t been long before Miyako arrived with you at the home of the prized star she referred to. you could’ve sworn you’ve been blessed by the deities when it was none other than Ai Hoshino. this new life you have is definitely better than the former one you had.

your eyes met with hers. and of course, you got lost in it. “Is that [Name]? She’s adorable!” well that was a side of her that you expected. she really is carefree even when behind the screen.

“This is my daughter Ruby, and my son over there on the couch is Aqua. You guys will frequently spend more time here while I’m away so I hope you three will be the bestest of friends!” you didn’t appreciate how Ai shoved Ruby in front of you for the introduction, but liked her welcoming energy either way.

this was really a new experience for you. you didn’t expect to be close with your idol in your new life at all. but you’re not complaining either. this is your new life now, you’ve decided to just enjoy your life as a baby once again despite the big contrast between your true mental age.

“Come on. It’s time for work.”

“I’m out~”

the room was immediately confined with tranquility the moment your father, Ichigo, and Ai, headed out for work. while your mother, Miyako, just laid face-down on the sofa and groaned in distress.

‘I probably shouldn’t bother her.’ you can tell how frustrating it could be to take care of three children, so you just let Miyako be and sat on the clean mattress on the floor just in front of the TV.

Ai’s son, named Aqua, was also sitting from a distance on the mattress with you. there was an awkward silence between the two of you as expected. you didn’t feel like you’ll get along with his sister either, since you’ve been told that she’s younger.

that silence remained for what felt like an eternity before broken by the sounds of the TV when Aqua turned it on without a word. and oh boy, your eyes lit up with particles of stars when you saw Ai on the screen. you both watched in silence, admiring the appeal Ai has when performing. eventually, you two were distracted with a familiar whine from the crib.

“N station has already started! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you have to admit that you didn’t like Ruby at first, but the interests that you two share just now made you want to get to know her more.

she quickly hopped off the crib and sat next to you, all the while squealing and rambling about how remarkable her mom is.

unlike you, Aqua just gave her a look with that neutral expression of his. he seemed too composed for his age, you thought. but you shrugged that thought off.

“Well, I suppose the three of us would be acquaintances considering that we all look up to the same person.” you simply said before fixating your focus back on the TV.

“Do you normally talk like that?” Aqua’s question caught you off guard. ‘shoot. were my words formal? not like it will blow me away anyway, right?’ living on a child’s body completely slipped out of your mind. you just prayed to yourself internally that this boy wouldn’t think of something bizarre.

“Huh? Talk like what?” your attempt at trying to dodge the question was poor. especially the awkward clearing of your throat and the laugh you did that added up to it.

the confusion and skepticism was evident on Aqua’s face, you can’t tell whether he is judging you or just trying to process that hell of a formal usage of words you did. either way, he just stared at you in disbelief for a couple of moments before shrugging it off.

“Looking forward to getting along with you, then.” of course, you were also surprised by his response. but held your tongue back. there’s no way this boy is also a reincarnation of someone simply because of how he talks or acts.

maybe he just learnt how to speak properly at such a young age.

[morinuu]

commoner trouble

kyouya x fem!reader (1k words)

black locks fell on kyouya's set of charcoal orbs, his monolids hidden behind his glasses from the angle you were sitting. the couch began to feel uncomfortable, as if something were calling you to stand up and gently take his glasses in your hands, caressing his hair and letting him rest his head on your chest.

his eyes would finally relax and his body would ease in your arms as he'd take deep breaths to finally let go of all the stress that managing a host club and his studies brought him.

he'd sigh and relieve his eyes for a couple of minutes while you caressed him, before inevitably having to end his break and return to work.

he would. in your fantasies.

you sat in the host club's purple couch, uncomfortably staring at your classmate who was writing something on his laptop on a desk not too far away from the rest of the hosts. this was your routine.

you'd go to the club after classes, sit there for some minutes, waiting and waiting for your turn to try and make an appointment, but there was always some type of shitty excuse from the man.

"our hosts have different price ranges, you wouldn't be able to afford an appointment with me, ms. y/n." you didn't ask how he knew of your financial matters.

"i'm afraid we're all booked the entire week." his voice echoed almost void of all emotion, before he turned to another girl who wanted to re-schedule with a smile on his face.

"our prices went up this week." they hadn't, but you wouldn't know since he never actually told you the prices at all.

one stupid excuse after another and another - and you finally stopped looking for a logical explanation for his hostility. 'it's fine, you'll get your turn one day.' you told yourself each time.

you didn't ask for much really, just an appointment with ootori kyouya like every other client of his. but you hadn't considered the difference between you and them - class.

in all honestly, at first, kyouya had been indifferent to the new honour student of ouran, until he found her staring at him shamelessly throughout their classes together. he figured she'd stop soon, probably just fascinated by his looks.

but it's been four months and you won't give up.

it's not like you're harassing him. you keep your distance in class as not to make others notice, you don't ask for his help in subjects where you could seriously use it - mainly german - and you don't approach him during lunch either.

just at the host club, where you were allowed to ask for his attention as long as you paid a fee. it wasn't unfair or a difficult request, just some tea and a conversation would quench your thirst to talk to the man, to actually engage in an intelligent conversation with him.

but alas, not only did your wallet have limitations, so did kyouya's patience.

he found you... unsophisticated. vulgar, maybe improper?

he didn't express his distaste for your clothes, which were trying to replicate a male ouran school dress code since you didn't even own a yellow dress. your black trousers and white dress shirt barely looked like they were of similiar material, because they weren't. your worn out sneakers hurt his eyes when they stood out against all the neat and polished pointy dress shoes of every other student.

to his elegant and privileged world respective, you were nothing but a pitiful woman, treated like charity by the school so the public can say 'the suoh family cares for the sad common folk!'

he didn't even stop to consider how similiar you could've been to haruhi, because haruhi - as much as he refused to admit it - was a dear friend. she was nothing like you, surely. she wasn't unkept, she was always groomed and wore the uniform that she'd been given.

no, your eyes from across the room looked nothing like haruhi's. yours expressed pure admiration for a man who never bothered to say hello unless he had to.

but he'd warmed up to the other commoner, so you two must live differently.

because your neighbourhood is much sketchier than the quiet area the fujioka's lived in. your clothes are much more worn out than haruhi's, much more washed too.

but it's not like you're apart of the club or their clientele (that one's because of him) so he can't check on your life much. it's not like he cares to check either, you're just unpleasant and he blames it on your wallet. surely that's what's ticking him off.

the minutes were passing and he knew he'd have to stand up and kick you out once more, like every day you came by the club. only this time, just as he raised his head to look at you and approach you again, you'd already started walking to the exit.

what? how come?

it didn't matter, you left on your own. maybe it was a sign that after four whole months you'd stop requesting him. he turned his attention back to his laptop, not wanting to go through the trouble to check if you were really gone.

until a couple minutes later he saw a hand slam down on his small table, with some 10,000 yen bills below the hand's fingers. his gorgeous, wide, gentle, doe-like perplexed eyes found yours in a matter of seconds and his breath hitched at your determined facial expression.

"i'd like to book an appointment for ootori kyouya this thursday." you muttered a bit nervously, as if you hadn't quoted the same line over and over since the beginning of the school year.

just as he want to reject you, you pointed to the money on the table. "it's enough. i know it is. and i know you're free." your tongue played in your mouth and you looked away, intimidated by the eye contact.

he didn't know how hard you'd worked just to save up barely enough money for an appointment. how hard you tried to keep up with your studies, your exploitative part time job and your housing bills. you were embarrassed at how desperate you were just for simple chat, but it didn't matter.

because kyouya ootori had finally accepted a 35 minute appointment with y/n l/n, and you couldn't be happier.

divider by @saradika

[saintsenara]

One thing that confuses me about the Dursleys is how they're supposed to be a parody of the British middle class, but isn't Vernon like director/chief of a company? Like, he owns a business and it doesn't seem to be a failing one so wouldn't they be more accurately described as upper class? Maybe it's just me who's dumb but it's something that really confuses me lol

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

the dursleys would never be thought of as upper-class, because that implies a certain aristocratic or gentry connection which they evidently don't have.

the most they could be is upper-middle-class - which is one of those fun british class-brackets which has a very specific "look" in the wider cultural imagination, and which defines itself as something vastly different from being middle-middle-class or lower-middle-class in terms of its vibe.

which is to say, this intra-class division isn't really financial [although that is a factor - just not the only one] so much as it's based in performance. how one changes social class [which is possible, these class divisions aren't immutable] isn't by becoming rich, it's by learning how to perform. mundungus fletcher, for example, could be a billionaire, but the way he presents himself to the world would still read as working-class. the teenage voldemort has nothing in his bank account, but he behaves in a way which is indistinguishable from his posh pureblood friends.

the dursleys' class performance - the way they dress and speak, the way they behave, their attitude towards their possessions [such as vernon's pride in his car], the places they want to go on holiday - indicates a bang-in-the-middle vibe, simultaneously aspirational to someone like petunia [who grew up below it] and hilariously unimpressive to someone like james potter [who grew up above it].

the best illustration of this is to compare them to the grangers, who are clearly upper-middle-class. the financial difference is negligible - vernon, as a company director, could feasibly be on a salary which was in the same ballpark [or which potentially even exceeded] what a dentist who only or mainly took private clients [which is the case for many dentists in the uk] could expect to earn - but their performance of class is totally different.

the grangers go skiing and spend their summers in the south of france; the dursleys' ideal holiday destination is majorca - which, while this is very unfair to a lovely bit of spain and the lovely people who live there, is used by jkr because it has that sort of middle-tier association in the british cultural imagination [posher than going to the costa del sol, rougher than staying in a converted farmhouse in cantabria]. the grangers name their daughter "hermione" - which, whether they get it from greek or from shakespeare, is a statement of their class performance - while the dursleys name their son "dudley" - which is the same.

and - of course - the grangers are dentists, which means they went to university. vernon makes drills - but is not an actual builder; which, while a blue collar job which would be understood as working-class, is also understood as something authentic - and clearly did not.

the interesting thing about the dursleys' class-status, though, is that vernon seems to have gone down from a childhood which was upper-middle-class. not in the same way as the grangers - apparently city-based, europhile, undoubtedly voted for tony blair in 1997 - are upper-middle-class, but in a way specifically associated with posh people who live in the country - whose poshness is considered to be more parochial and more politically conservative.

marge dursley - with her tweed and her bulldogs and her brusque manners - is a perfect stereotypical example of this. so too is smeltings, the fee-paying boarding school which both vernon and dudley attend - it wouldn't be unusual within the dursleys' class-bracket for dudley to be privately educated, but it is unusual for this to be at a school with the vibe that smeltings [whose uniform, for example, is so obviously based on that of schools like eton and harrow] has.

it's really interesting to think about why vernon might have ended up shuffling down to the middle of the middle, especially because there are plenty of careers for a man from that country-posh bracket which would retain his class-status without requiring a university education - above all, going into the army. that he doesn't do this - that he becomes a managing director, a job which has financial but not cultural cachet as an upper-middle-class signifier [if you care about these things - which i do not] - has a certain degree of deliberate choice behind it.

and this provides a fascinating comparison with petunia - who was clearly raised working-class and has ascended into the middle through performance, and who then becomes desperate to retain her status by continuing to perform "correctly". vernon also lives behind a mask, which also depends on the correct performance of a class-bracket which he wasn't born into, even if his class journey is one of descent.

vernon and petunia's fear of magic relates to this - they're both terrified that the neighbours will learn, if they discover the existence of magic, that they're not as bang-in-the-middle normal as they claim to be.

and this is fundamentally because magic is something eccentric and strange. and eccentricity [especially in dress and manners - the thing that vernon hates about wizards] is read as either a sign that someone is very posh or a sign that they are very much not.

but not as something in between.