#this show it taking over my life I can feel it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reneezsq · 24 hours

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forelsket

forelsket (noun.): the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

❛ !¡ pairing; aventurine; sunday x gender neutral!reader.

❛ !¡ summary; a heartbeat too irregular, breathing quick and shaky hands sweating under expensive gloves. who could have thought getting attached is as sweet as your favorite dessert ?

❛ !¡ warnings; it is specified for both that reader likes anything with sugar.

❛ !¡ a/n; kinda self indulgent for me and one of my besties cuz she loves aventurine too much and i have a big fat crush on sunday (gotta cuddle the angel and the gambler)

♡–,✎ smitten:;

AVENTURINE

. never has he fancied himself over falling head over heels with anyone for the matter. any sort of relationship he could have formed, or bond to a certain extension, with anybody was surely for his own selfish desires. as a way to get over his life the control he lacked for so many years, a hope to regain mastery over himself and feel that for once in his life, all over again, his choices belong to no other than him.

. and at first he loathed the thought of falling in love. he knew all about the wonders it does on one’s mind: taking away their ability to form a coherent speech, the loss of the mastery of your own body and a certain yearning for the person of your affection. it scared him to some degree that if he ever fell in love he would yet lose all over again the freedom he fought to regain.

. at first, your meeting was only supposed to remain as a simple meeting. you were a new recruit to the ipc and he had been appointed with showing you around the main building. he had never planned to stick around too close or to engage in a full conversation. but his plans were thrown out of the window as he gazed at your pretty face. eyes sparkling at the view of someone’s cake in the fridge with some drool seemingly forming at the corner of your mouth. you looked so… how can he even explain such a feeling to himself or anybody else ?

. at that moment, he felt like simply coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. only to keep you within his grasp and make sure you will never run away or be harmed. no matter if you are taller than him. but he had to shake away the thoughts to start the visit. and also maybe to know you better, after all only falling for one’s looks isn’t as wise as it can be, knowing how many beautiful people are the most dispensable people out the whole universe.

. just like he had dreaded, you were oh too kind for his heart to take it lightly. curiously peering at every corner and listening to him as he talked about the necessities of the work without too much details. he had to look away more than once and pray the pink dye on his glasses would conceal the ever growing blush on his cheeks. seriously, how unfair can you be ?! making him all flushy inside that he almost wants to melt when you waved him goodbye to go to your section to get to work.

. but, for some reasons, he did not find this uncomfortable in the slightest bit. his body was still his at the end of the day, and only the brushing of your fingers against his gloved ones remained in his mind. for once, he wished to take off his glove to feel some contact for the first time since so long. if it’s yours, he doesn’t feel like he will mind it too much.

SUNDAY

. he never really spared any real thought towards loving and being loved. he had more important matters like the health of his sister and her happiness, his role as the spokesman of the family and all the worries that came with taking care of penacony. so, truthfully, the idea never really came to his mind, and if it did he would discard it away without any real second chances for it to last.

. but during certain nights, he indulges in those kind of feelings that swirl deep within him as he wonders how he will feel if he falls in love with an individual. will his biggest strength to deliver eloquent speeches to move away a whole crowd for his own benefits turn into sand if he gazes too long in the eyes of the one that would steal his heart ? would his face heat up in the haste of their shared love and would he find himself holding their hands with a grip a bit too tight ? who knows. maybe he does want to fall in love in the end…

. the first moment your gazes crossed paths was during a concert of his sister. he enjoys watching those above all else. drowning in her beautiful melodies and allowing himself to breathe in the imagery of a field of flowers where he can feel the heartbeat of the world as he lies down the grass. ah, what a beautiful view of the sky painted in the hues of the ocean. how much he enjoys indulging himself in such lovely views created by the dreams of his mind.

. this is when he first saw you. all panicked in the crowd and breathing heavily because everyone was being too rough and too noisy next to you. he felt a pang of empathy towards this strangely beautiful stranger that got the unluck of being stuck next to so many disrespectful people. and his steps made him walk closer to you. a hand over their shoulder to catch your attention before he led you away from the concert.

. when you two went to relax in a small cafe away from everyone else, he turned on his phone to watch the live performance of his sister’s concert (which he has free access to). maybe you cannot be there, but at least you will still be able to hear her singing and see the thing as a full. afterwards, one drink in silence turned into two, then three as the conversation continued onwards. and he found himself unable to stop it, wanting to know more and more about you. and for once he did not want to know that in case it was needed, he was curious.

. when he bid you farewell and returned home, his sister couldn’t stop herself from telling him he seemed in such a brighter mood than he was at the start of the day. the honest smile in his lips and gaze dwelling back into what had happened that day. he simply told her he got a new acquaintance as he stared at the screen on his phone, with your number on it. well, that was a very precious day now, wouldn’t you say so ?

♡–,✎ wooing:;

AVENTURINE

. he’s insufferable. honestly. when he got over his little crush, all that stayed was a weird mix between the mask he puts over himself for the attire of confidence he had put over his own heart and the clear indication that you might be a bit more in his eyes. however, you will never know if it is genuine or not for a while. a gambler never reveals his cards.

. instead, the sole lead that remained to help you in your decision making was the small gestures he did all the time, his constant bothering you with calls, messages and funny little notes found in your office as well as the never ending questions by his side. one could be a coincidence, two was weird, after three you knew there was no getting away from that sickeningly stunning man you both adored and loathed sometimes (how can he be so adorably annoying ?)

. your missions end quickly, for one reason: you do nothing instead sitting next to him as he bets his life for the fifth time tonight. you know he will win but you cannot help the faceplan on your face as he proudly places down his cards for a final round and challenges opponents thinking they are a bit too lucky. you are no fool in front of his hand behind his back or the unmistakable shaking of it as it rests against his thigh under the table in a closed shaky fist. you never really dared to hold it, as to not break any bound that might last between you too. but as he looks at you to see the fondness with which you gaze at him, he feels like he already hit the jackpot.

. those nights always end up with your fist lightly hitting the top of his head after stealing his hat as a reminder that he is not eternal and he scared you to death. then he runs after you while making sure to remain slower, only to see the sun smiling back at him in all its glory. if you are lucky enough, he will let you wear it. fret not ! if he says no, attack him by the heartstrings with the cute big round eyes and a sad pout gracing your lips. he never won. his maximum is 26 seconds, dr. ratio counted for you one day. how kind.

. the type to use cringe pick up lines, but he is forgiven by his undying attractive looks. would call you the weirdest things during those times to make a bad joke meant to make your heart swoon. forgive him for being so bad, it’s his first time falling in love and not everyone is born with enough charisma to be both lucky in games and lucky in love. a loser, but one you comfort during his most unlucky defeats against your heart with a little peck in the cheeks. suddenly his mood is brighter and he is bringing you along to a shop or a restaurant.

. his money becomes yours the moment his heart was a bit faster and harder against his ribs. you could gaze at a cake from the other side of a window for 0.4 seconds and he had magically appeared inside. not like you complain but your stomach is starting to be a bit more demanding and whiny when you are close to him. he caught onto that and lightly poke you every time before heading towards another dinner you two will share. you will get your cake, but let’s get a healthy meal first to ensure you will stay all pretty and happy. he wouldn’t want you feeling bad over your body because he couldn’t resist your stare. he is no simp, promise (is that his fingers crossed behind his back ??)

. sometimes he comes to your house too. you two act like a couple more than you would both enjoy to admit. him lazily sipping on some coffee and answering calls here and there from the ipc while you are cooking or doing anything really. he could send you a weird meme of two cats biting each other with a “us <3” while you two are sharing a blanket and watching a film at the same time, in the same house, in the same room, in the same couch and almost cuddling. what a funny little man.

. his confession would be sweet. for once, no casino was involved during the whole night. you might think he was perhaps a bit sick but no, he was not ! feeling perfectly a–okay, although his perfume is a bit more prominent and for some reasons he is buying you more things than usual.

. please, let him talk first. he will not be able to say anything if you even dare to utter a word as you two arrive under the starry sky in an abandoned park. with some lamp, he will use morse code:

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

. your answer was: ..--- ; and he felt like falling in love all over again as you both started laughing over your own dumb love towards one another. ignore the tears, he is just happy. and perhaps this small shooting star was his sister’s best wishes.

SUNDAY

. the first thing he ever does when he goes to meet you is buying you flowers. now you have a ton of bouquets around your house and had to convince him to maybe settle for something that you two could consume or else you would have enough plants for the funerals of all your family members, that is if the bouquets were not holding a deep message. yes, he loves the implicit. the ones he loves gifting you the most are orchids¹, red roses² for the classics as well as carnations³ and sunflowers⁴.

. the embodiment of a gentleman and i am not joking. for him, courting you is not something to be taken lightly. he is playing his future love life on the line and will not allow any mistake to be made on his end. he wants to win over your heart and be a big selfish as to remain the sole object of your affection, and he will accomplish such a goal but being as gentle as he can be with you — without, of course, being too overbearing or controlling with you. he wants something genuine, not you accepting his love because you felt forced to do such a thing based on his status as a leader or place in the family. hence why he will refuse for a certain while to talk about his profession, he will end up telling you, pinky promise, but not now yet.

. going back to the previous subject of him being a gentleman. he will hold the doors open for you, all the time and it can maybe turn into a competition if you try to beat him. his arms quickly around your waist to stop you as you two giggle like two teenagers a bit too smitten. walking down some stairs ? here, his hand. he wouldn’t want your ankle to be twisted. and the feeling of your hand in his is quite enjoyable too. i am also talking about pulling your chair for you (if you sit first he will do this tiktok trend of being unable to move the chair to have you check it so he can pull it for you), letting his shoulder be soaked when it rains and you have only one umbrella as well as kissing your knuckles when you two meet.

. he always has his hands on you, i swear. it is so very obvious he has fallen head over heels with you and even he cannot deny it any longer. but when his hand is always resting at your lower back — your consent is included, if you do not like it he will let you take hold of his arm instead — as you walk through a particularly crowded place in the streets or in a building. always the perfect guide to accompany you to your destination. travel in security, travel with sunday !

. do not think his sister is not involved in his plans to win over your heart, because if you think so you are solely mistaken. she already knows of his adoration for you and even gives him small pieces of advice. after all, she has a lot of fans trying to woo her, so she knows different tactics and will share those that make her a bit weak in the knees to help her brother with his soon–to–be–lover. she went as far as to do a concert with only the two of you, singing a love song while you were humming alongside her tune. he still cherishes this moment when he hasn’t seen you for a certain while.

. he never enters your home without the green flag to do so. the most he did the first few days you went out together was accompany you to the porch and flash a small wink your way, the two of you letting out small laughs at how corny and movie–like the whole ordeal has been. seriously, it feels like a mix of your favorite book tropes with all the cringy stuff that you can view in your favorite romance movies. but you two are a sucker for traditional romance, how can you be blamed ?

. now, for his confession, oh lord. he became the best husband in one night and you were feeling all hot in the face all day. because, yes, he booked a whole day of different activities the two of you could do together. from sharing a simple meal to making some poems. he wrote the best ballads and sonnets you have ever read in the entirety of your life — seriously, how can a man be so talented in such different fields ?

. at the end of the day, you two walked in a park where you both ended up sitting down on the same bench. there was barely no one around as it was late enough already, and when the lamps finally lit up, you saw the whole city come back to life for the night. it was a whole show in itself, to see the advertisements light up, the street lamp illuminating the roads and the atmosphere changing around the two of you.

. after a small quick breath, he placed a present upon your lap and let you open it. it consisted of a music box, playing one of the unreleased songs of his sister you had the pleasure to listen to with him. but there was a particularity: this was a love song. when you gazed back at one another, you both knew.

♡–,✎ engagement:;

AVENTURINE

. the bad pick up lines got worse. now he uses them when falling off the stairs, upon stumbling with his own two feet over some air and when he has a good hair day (clue: he always has good hair). so no, there is no escaping his constant praises and compliments and cringy flirting. but you’ll forgive him, won’t you ?

. he is so affectionate it feels like he became some glue next to you. there is no joke in that. when you two are at home to simply relax he will have his arms around you while doing anything at all. but don’t let your guard down, he might take off his clothes to move your shirt aside and rest his freezing hand upon your skin directly. just to hear your little squeals as you look up at him. his other hand will hold your cheek to feel the warmth burning at his fingertips before kissing it better as his own small apology. during moments like these, make it difficult to regain his love. more kisses for the two of you and more cuddling too.

. even in the casino he goes, he is affectionate too openly. he has really no shame screaming at the top of his lungs how much he loves you and the fact you are all he ever dreamt of having. your head is resting on his shoulder with one arm around your waist. he found that tracing forms on your skin is better than gripping a chip in secret, and now it comes naturally. if you ever fall asleep on him while he plays, he will not hesitate to take off his hate and put it on your to hide the lights from your eyes and allow you a better sleep. even when the game ended, he will stay at the table a few more moments to then give you the correct time to wake up from your little nap. i hope you don’t mind being awakened by kisses all over your face.

. his hat is the only thing he shares, sorry not sorry. his clothes are his and he wants to keep them as such. if you want to wear them he will happily buy you something similar, but the idea of sharing clothes is not something he cherishes that much. however, matching clothes ? this he doesn’t mind ! matching pajamas sets ? check. matching glasses ? check. matching accessories ? check. wearing matching pairs only add to the whole showing off you are his, doesn’t it ?

. he is not that possessive per say, maybe simply a bit paranoid that things might happen to you in hopes of getting to him. but he is truly aware you are capable and will not sugarcoat you (if you do not have any injury, get one as small as a paper cut and he is throwing dramatic gasps to make you laugh), but he will not hesitate to show that he is yours as much as you are his and no one can take you away from him. however, he can have his own insecurities. not look wise, come on that smirk on his face shows that he knows how pretty he is. no, it is more towards his gambling addiction and financial tendencies to spend everything without a care because of his insane luck. he knows that it might be a red flag, or you might be dragged away from him if he continues too much. you can kiss him better or show him an alternative (don’t do gacha games, please, he will know no limits at all you will worsen the problem dearest).

. all in all, you won your own little jackpot by being with him. sure, he has his own secrets and things he will probably never share with you. but at the end of the day you are both satisfied only holding each other’s hands as you dance under the stars like idiots or jump on the water that stayed in the streets after it rained. maybe you are a bit childish, or maybe you simply indulge together in what you always lacked: an innocent and pure love.

SUNDAY

. his money became yours, quite literally. need to buy a book ? here take his credit card. you want to start having weekly shopping sprees with robin ? he will make a new card just for the two of you that you can use. do not shy away from using his money, he wants you happy and he knows that sometimes only acquiring certain items you cherish will fill your heart to the brim. however, he is waiting for a small peck on the cheek and if you bought close you better make a small show for him. the two of you will end up dancing in the living room and it will end with a small kiss.

. the type to be a sucker for any type of kisses. would randomly come up to you, grab your face and kiss your forehead, your cheeks so no jealousy and then your lips. at first you were taken aback but now you are used to it and no real surprises anymore to be honest. you just melt and sometimes kiss him back when he pulls away. aha ! now he is the one with warm cheeks :P.

. he shares his food a bit too much, his plate becomes yours. not the type to give you his plate though. no, instead he will take your fork or spoon, serve enough in it and bring it to your lips. you can never deny him because of the fluttering of his wings that shows just how happy he is to do such a thing. and let’s not talk about desserts. he would buy five of them, eat one spoonful and then give you the rest. i am not hungry anymore, he says, what a very sweet liar he is. that is not his fault, do not blame him please, he just wishes to see a small smile on your face because you love them so much.

. talking about his wings, you can know his mood with how they react. a pretty useful indicator to be honest. if they are a bit down, he is sad or just tired. a few cuddles might fix the issue and if it doesn’t just massage his feathers, but be careful those little wings are still very much sensitive. if they are fluttering, then he is quite happy. weirdly enough they always flutter when you are with him. sometimes he uses them to hide his face if he is a bit flustered. he looks quite adorable when he wants to.

. also not the type to share his clothes, the only exception being his jacket if you are cold and brought nothing for yourself. unlike aventurine he is not for matching sets of clothing, he would prefer if you two kept your own style. but he is for matching jewelries and such. his favorite match is earrings. he will wear the right one most of the time as you wear the left one. his second favorite has to be necklaces. you have a pair of necklaces that go together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you cuddle you let them click together and they remain as such until you have to go to work or sleep or pee.

. being with him is like walking through a street in the middle of the light. his embrace and touches being the few people complimenting you along the way and his comfort being the warm light cast upon you. and when you fall asleep, it’s like having found your own little haven all over again. perhaps, with you, he will learn to be a bit more honest with himself over time.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

orchids¹ – they symbolize beauty, charm and love.

red roses² – they symbolize love and passion.

carnations³ – they symbolize fascination and love.

sunflowers⁴ – they symbolize admiration and loyalty.

(if any of those informations are wrong, tell me and i will fix it asap !)

TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness; @sweetlyvibe; @quatrdeal

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megistusdiary · 3 days

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If Arlecchino sees you as a replacement for her childhood friend (Clervie) and you accidentally find out, it makes you very sad and when she finds out she is next to comfort and prove Show you how much she loves you, not see you as a replacement by feeling guilty about you. 🤭

i think you guys are obsessed with hurting me

angst with arlecchino

arlecchino x fem!reader

warnings: angst (hurt + comfort), suggestive at the end

it was a mistake to look in her journal. you should've known better than to pry into her personal thoughts. that journal was for secrets, and as she always said, things she kept secret from you were better that way.

the only way she even knew you read it was the singular teardrop left on the corner of the page. it irreversibly smudged the ink, leaving a permanent addition to her writing that spoke louder than any of the words on the page.

"let me explain." she answered you, finally managing to corner you as you lay in your shared bed, tears in your eyes.

"explain what? that i'm just... some replacement for someone you lost?" it's obvious you're hurting, and so is she. while she wishes you would've never set foot in her office, she also knows her own internal thoughts are the problem.

she approaches the bed, gently kneeling down at the side, wrinkling her neatly pressed pants. "please listen." and you can hear the desperation in her normally cold tone. "i never meant for you to see that journal."

"but i did."

"what you read was something i've kept bottled up. you are not clervie's replacement, you are my wife." she tells you firmly, reaching over to hold your hand. "i saw good in her, good that i knew i couldn't possess myself. i am cursed, after all. it's the same good that i saw in you." she pauses, looking up at you. "i see things that remind me of her in you, not the other way around."

"what difference does it make? you'll always compare me to a girl you keep alive in your memories alone." you sniffle, wiping your eyes.

"i won't deny that clervie will never leave my memories. she was the only friend i've ever had until i met you." she rubs her thumb across the back of your hand. "i fell in love with you not because of clervie, and it takes me time to see the resemblance. it is no surprise i would seek out someone so... kind-hearted."

you stay quiet and she pulls your chin to look at her. "i have no intention of lying to you like this. i can say that i love you over and over until my lips bleed, but that won't change a thing in your mind, will it?"

"no. i suppose not." you frown and she cups your cheek.

"then let me prove it to you. i hope you know those words were written in a... particularly troubling time for me. they brought me comfort... to see that i have you. to think she would be happy for us."

she slides into bed with you, bringing you closer to her chest and wiping your tears. "you're not a replacement. you're my wife. you are the most important person in my life at all times." her lips press into your forehead as you snuggle into her.

"prove it." you mumble, half-teasingly, but you yelp when she rolls you over, looming over you instead. "arle-"

"peruere. that's my name, and i am aware you know, so say it."

"peruere." you breathe out softly and she sighs, looking troubled.

"i haven't heard that name in ages. it brings me... discomfort, but coming from you, it's almost like it means something loving again." she hums, leaning down to kiss your throat. "let me show you how much you mean to me." she offers.

you smile up at her, nodding as she kisses away your tears and slowly descends your body, taking gentle care of you for the night.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

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laneywrld · 1 day

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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him.

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track.

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people.

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships.

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her.

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone?

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again.

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously.

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower.

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed.

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him.

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body.

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin.

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship.

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay."

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck.

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay."

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly.

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back.

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck.

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle.

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same.

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications.

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him.

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes.

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him.

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending.

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment.

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile.

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place.

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips.

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto.

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically.

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door.

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves.

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile.

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head.

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her.

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place.

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones."

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!"

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race.

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is.

That anger got him P3.

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours.

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed.

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him.

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet.

"Can you walk?"

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights.

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't.

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that.

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't."

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes.

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other.

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks.

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress.

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair.

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room.

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing.

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone.

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears.

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls.

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours.

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do."

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her.

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire.

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force.

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis.

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness.

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt.

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase.

"Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator.

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob.

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much.

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness.

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions.

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood.

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel.

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds.

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away.

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since.

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants.

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile.

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure.

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him.

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating.

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man.

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people.

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons.

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart.

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit.

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too.

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all.

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !!

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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash.

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door.

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome.

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door.

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest.

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes.

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues.

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces.

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did."

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more."

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you."

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining.

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

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abigails-gf · 18 hours

Note

hey baby, can you please write a little birthday fluff with Abby? :( it's okay if it's just a short drabble, but I rlly need it :( <3

-lily🎀

abby anderson x f!reader.

warnings: fluff, slight nsfw.

a/n: hi, angel! happy birthday! i decided to go with some headcanons, if that's okay? i hope you like it. 💐💐 mwaah !!

𐙚 abby would wake up earlier than you, she'd get dressed and go out, coming back with your favorite flowers and some pastries.

𐙚 she'd come back to bed, kissing your cheeks to wake you up. "baby, sweet girl..." she'd say, slowly tracing her way down your neck with her lips. "love of my life, my future wife." you'd giggle and open your eyes. she'd kiss you softly, whispering a "happy birthday."

𐙚 abby and you would enjoy the pastries together, she'd hold your hand as you two ate. "anything you want to do today, birthday girl?" she'd ask.

𐙚 if you had an idea in mind, she'd follow you. she'd spend the day spoiling you, doing what you want to do. she'd get you that perfume you like, or that dress you've been wanting for this summer, or that game or book you told her about. you two would go to your favorite bookstore, or favorite places for the afternoon.

𐙚 if you preferred to stay at home, she'd run you a bath. you two would bath together. she'd take care of you, wash your hair with your favorite products. "relax, that's it." you'd melt in her arms.

𐙚 she'd cook your favorite food for lunch, or take you to your favorite restaurant. "you look so cute, baby." she'd say as you eat. you'd giggle. she was the sweetest.

𐙚 for dinner, she'd take you out to a restaurant she had made a reservation at. you'd hold her hand as you arrived there. "table for two, anderson." she'd say to the waiter.

𐙚 you two would talk and comment the food, smiling at each other. you'd feel her feet, under the table, rubbing against your ankle.

𐙚 "i love you so much, you know that? and i'm so happy and lucky to have you, baby." she'd say, holding your hand over the table.

𐙚 once you two would be home, she'd kiss you feverishly, cupping your face with her hands. "i love you, so much."

𐙚 and she'd show you how much she loves you – whispering variations of "happy birthday, baby" and "i love you" as you cum under her.

𐙚 she'd nudge your nose with hers, wrapping her arms around you. "i love you, my sweet girl. my best girl."

taglist: @abbysprettygiiirl @bambishaven @bunniehrtz @cowboylikeabi @dykeanderson

@lesbian-useless

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #tlou fic #abby the last of us #abby anderson headcanons #the last of us headcanons

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calicoheartz · 2 days

Note

could you write something about being coach bluder's granddaughter but not having any interest in basketball but you show up tp practice one day to surprise your grandma and Caitlin immediately has a crush on you?

Unexpectedly Unexpected ; Caitlin Clark ⸝⸝ ♡

summary : you are coach bluders granddaughter , what happens when Iowa’s star player has a little crush on you ? 👀

wc ; 774

warnings : none

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : hey guys! so happy to be back posting my cait fics , tysm for requesting this! Enjoy ◡̈

As the granddaughter of Coach Bluder, basketball has always been a huge part of your life. The sound of dribbling balls and squeaking snickers filled your childhood, as you spent countless hours watching from the bleachers, absorbing the excitement and intensity that came with it.

But despite this, basketball never really spoke to you. Yeah you enjoyed watching it, but it never really captured your interests like it did for the rest of your family. You instead pursued other passions, carving out your own path outside of the basketball world.

Years went by, and you found yourself living your own life, one that consisted of being away from the court. You still stayed in touch with your grandma, visiting her whenever you can and keeping up with her team's achievements and progress. One day, you decided to surprise her by showing up to a team practice, something you hadn't done in years.

As you walked into the gym, you were suddenly hit by a wave of nostalgia, with the sound of sneakers hitting the squeaky gym floor and the smell of the basketballs bringing you back to your childhood, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched the team scramble across the court.

Coach Bluder soon noticed you, breaking into a wide grin and soon rushing over to you to give you a big and loving embrace. The players, who had heard so much about you, welcomed you with open arms. Incredibly grateful and eager to meet the girl their coach had spoken so fondly of.

Among the players was Caitlin Clark, Iowa’s star point guard. Her talent on the court was undeniable of course, but it was her charisma and charm that truly set her apart from the rest. When she saw you, her eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but be completely drawn to you. Your presence engulfing her entirely and pulling the point guard in.

Throughout practice, Caitlin could not take her eyes off of you. She watched you closely as you interacted with the other players, laughing and joking with them as if you had known them for an entire lifetime. There was something about your easy going nature that captivated her, but couldn't put it into words.

After practice, she approached you, with a nervous grin displayed across her lips. She struck up a conversation, eager to learn anything about you. As you spoke, you found yourself to be completely drawn to her as well. Her passion for the game was infectious, and the way she herself spoke about it brought you to see basketball in an entirely new light.

In the following days, the brunette had taken you under her wing as you started to frequent their practices more often. As she showed you the ins and outs of the game, and introducing you to her teammates. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with her, being drawn to her enthusiasm and passion. Despite your initial disinterest in basketball, you couldn't help in being swept up by the excitement of it all.

As your bond with Caitlin grew stronger, so did her feelings with you. She found herself falling for you in ways that she never expected. Almost kissing on numerous occasions, she finally decided to bite the bullet and ask you the anticipated question.

After a victorious win for Iowa, she again approached you with the never grin she did when the two of you first met. You had noticed that she had been acting a bit strange all day, and you were curious as to what was on her mind.

“Hey..” she said, twirling her hair between her fingers. “I was wondering if…uhm, if you'd like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

You were taken aback, not expecting for Caitlin to ask you out so directly. You could feel your cheeks getting red, and your heart skipping a beat as you tried to process her words, with a small smile spreading across your face.

“I would love to,” you replied, trying your best to try and contain your excitement.

The guard let out a sigh of relief, a wide grin soon appearing across her face. “Great! How does Saturday work for you? We could maybe catch a movie and grab dinner afterwards?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, feeling a wave of calmness and content wash over you.

You soon walked away from the gym, hand in hand with Caitlin, and you couldn't help but feel extremely grateful for a sudden turn of events. Who knew that one simple visit would lead to such an exciting and promising future?

omgggg this is sooo cute!!! I promise im gonna start posting longer / more vague fics as i do have some series’s in the works! as always, tysm for reading! 😊❤️

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wcbb x reader #headcannons #my hcs #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #kate martin #wnba draft #wnba #wnba basketball

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love-that-we-were-in · 2 days

Text

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break.

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study.

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining.

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day.

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point.

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?”

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day.

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear.

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?”

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.”

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.”

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home.

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing.

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.”

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish.

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now.

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute.

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room.

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose.

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.”

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t.

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.”

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?”

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected.

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down.

“I just think that hat is stupid.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.”

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?”

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left.

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round.

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.”

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands.

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using.

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that.

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back.

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges.

You’re kind of obsessed with it.

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you.

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.”

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.”

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.”

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face.

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.”

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it.

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy.

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.”

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong.

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off.

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.”

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel.

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh.

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him.

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.”

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.”

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.”

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him.

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee.

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.”

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.”

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it.

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.”

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is.

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly.

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

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comfortless · 1 day

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i have been thinking about this for a while and i love how you write, so what do you think of biker!könig with a gf that studies in uni? how did they meet? does he get jealous easily of her classmates? what is the aftermath of his jealousy (😏)?

thank you so much 🩷

-🌵

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fem (afab) reader, suggestive, but mostly just two sillies attempting to flirt.

They first cross paths at a gas station. Sundown and desolate apart from the woman who approaches the tiny shop on foot whilst he straddles his bike at the pump.

She doesn’t notice him, and that’s just fine. More often than not, people do but for the wrong reasons. It’s always the height or the face only his mother could love. This is a good thing, shows she’s not hasty with her judgment, shows she’s just unaware enough to let something like him in.

It’s stupid, completely ridiculous at how he feels his heart thump to life, ribcage squeezing and stomach a whirl with butterflies at the mere sight. The furthest thing from love comes to mind at the sight: plush thighs peeking out against the hem of shorts that cut off just below her bum, the tight tanktop that displays her cleavage in a way so enticing. But that’s what he immediately thinks of, that word that seems foreign to him even in his mother tongue.

Love.

König could be a gentleman, lie her down in his bed instead of fucking her over the bike, if she were kind enough to follow him home. That offer feels heavy as lead on his tongue, lost someplace in his throat when he really gets a good view of her.

He’s never been good with talking to women, anyway. Especially not an angel so far out of his league she would surely only scoff with her sweet drink in hand, turn away from him with her nose held high and dark circles under her eyes as she suffers through another paper back at her dorm or wherever she came from.

So, he leaves her be as much as he can and should, only watches her with his helmet in place and that dark visor masking where his eyes wander from her face down to the retreating view of her legs as she walks.

The next time time is during the rain.

König is good at refraining from acting on base instinct. There’s a lot to consider before stealing away some miserable dove on the sidewalk, the light drizzle from above soaking into her dress and battering her lashes as she sits and waits for a ride that just doesn’t seem to be coming. He’s got his military background, keeps his house tidy and rarely muddles in the affairs of other people.

It’s just that she’s cold.

He tells himself that the only reason he stops his bike some meters away is because she will get sick if he doesn’t offer her a ride. He’s just being a gentleman. There’s nothing more to it.

So he does. Keeps his helmet on and masks his face as well as the weird excitement and nervousness in his voice when the muffled offer taints the wet air.

It doesn’t matter that he wouldn’t have never considered any of this if she weren’t so cute. If she didn’t look so fragile and sweet. She smiles and nods immediately, fusses with her dress a bit when she climbs onto the bike behind him when she tells him that she’s only just been on a date. It just hadn’t turned out well and whoever the bastard had been had dipped before even the entree was served.

It sends his mind spiraling when it shouldn’t.

It’s deranged to think of her misfortune as fate when it isn’t.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know where to put my hands,” she laughs someplace against his shoulder, chin just slightly tilted up to bump his damp t-shirt. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever heard, not mocking at all, only shy.

“Around me.”

He sounds like an old pervert, feels just like one when he takes her hands into his own and guides them around his middle. Presses in a bit too tight, because it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman so close and it feels good to be held like this.

She makes some quiet noise, a soft gasp, then presses her face into the darkness of his shirt to hide away from the rain or maybe…

“You can come home with me. It’s close.”

She laughs again, and he’s reminded of just how little tact that he has with the fairer sex. She must think him an idiot, some hopeful vigilante that scoops women up from the street after nightmare dates with bad food or bad dick. It sounds so stupid to his own ears, he knows he’s burning crimson beneath the black helmet.

Until she squeezes him a bit, gives what must be her best attempt at a hug from their positioning. Again, too, maybe out of surprise that there’s muscle there. Something a woman like her might like.

“I’ve got nothing to lose, huh?” and then “You seem a lot nicer than he was, anyway.”

The air gets stolen from his lungs and his jaw grows loose. She had only told him yes to maybe sitting on his couch, watching some miserable war film until he brought her back to her academic wasteland, but not a part of him had expected that.

It takes a moment for him to realize he hasn’t said a word, that he’s sat panting like some stay being offered a meaty bone. He takes a moment to reposition her grip around him, too ashamed of the way his cock springs to life at her closeness and the ridiculous fantasy playing out in his head.

“Right… you can dry off there.”

He doesn’t immediately remove the helmet when she steps into his abode, just guides her over to the washroom when she asks if he would mind if she used his shower and lets her be. That room has never known a woman’s touch, and the shirt he gives her to change into isn’t comparable to the cute, floral thing she was wearing.

He takes her dress to the dryer to distract himself from the fact that she’s naked in there, just a flimsy door away. Changes out of his own sopping wet clothes after considering that maybe she would want to touch him again. Maybe it felt nice for her too, just to hold someone. He could hold her too, if she wanted that, bring her right to his bed and keep her safe and warm.

“You’re out of conditioner,” she peeps as she steps back out of the bathroom. “Just thought you would want to…”

Her eyes trail over him for a time as her words taper off to nothing. Then, they’re locked to his face and any hope goes up in an inferno. The scars are probably scary, the dark circles from weeks of minimal sleep are probably even worse. She probably thinks him some sort of monster or a demon, something no girl should be left alone with.

Then, she smiles.

“Wow…”

“What…?”

He expects the worst and instinctively casts a sideways glance toward the helmet sat by the door. The perfect covering to avoid situations like this. It’s not that he’s dependent on it, but… maybe he would have had some sort of chance had he not taken it off.

“I’m sorry for staring, you’re just really…”

Ugly. Scary. Whatever words she’s considering, he doesn’t care to hear them. She could just ask to go home, save herself some fear and save him from another rejection.

“… cute.”

“Okay.”

Scheisse.

That wasn’t a “thank you” or anything of substance, but this is more mortifying than anything prior. Even the women who had pitied him with a date before had never called him something so endearing, never likened him to some adorable little thing or stared up at him like she does now. She only seems giddy, a fire burning behind her eyes like she’s just discovered some secret treasure.

“… cuter than your date?,” he hazards, rolls his shoulders and tilts his head at her. His attempt at sounding confident only comes across bitter and jealous. Maybe he is, but that fucker blew his chance, and she’s blessing König with far too many.

“Definitely.”

The tension feels tangible, despite the absurdity of all of this. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, where to look, what to say or how long to take between breaths.

She’s stood there in his shirt, looking as if she’s already his and he’s the one left feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“I think you’re pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Ever since I first saw you, I…” He’s babbling too much, losing any composure because she just keeps her eyes trained on him, that adorable smile curling at her lips. If he sounded creepy, like he’s been following her, she doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Maybe you could take me on a date sometime,” she suggests, her voice coming as a breathy little whisper. Maybe she is shy, but she’s giving him the OK to push and prod and see just how far he can go, to expend all of his luck on this very night.

The rain outside only grows louder, threatening to cut the power and leave this docile angel in some dark pit with a mad king. He wishes it would, it grows harder to keep the prominent excitement in his crotch concealed the more that she talks and bats her eyelashes at him.

Being over-eager was a turn-off, right? He weighs his next words the best he can, considers playing it safe for just half a moment before they escape him anyway.

“Come here.”

There’s a darker storm brewing in his eyes when she takes those first, fragile steps toward him. But she graces him with the light of a spark when her hand finds his chest and presses there, feels his heart beating like it’s a normal thing to search for, like she’s just as mesmerized and surprised as she is now.

She’s snared in an instant with a face buried into her damp hair, lifted up with her legs guided to wrap around his waist. A decade worth of luck spent just like that, but he’s always been greedy.

The demand for more comes with a callused hand guiding her chin up. Her lips part immediately, eyelashes fluttering until they rest atop her cheeks, already warmed with the anticipation of what’s to come. His kissing begins gentle, soft for a second as he tries to memorize the plushness and curvature of her lips with his mouth alone.

Then, it’s only punishing.

He tries to hold himself back, but knowing he could have had this weeks ago while she was wandering about barely dressed drives him insane. The moment she gasps against his mouth, his tongue slips inside to find hers, rolls over it with such a ferocity that the corner of her mouth begins to glisten with their shared drool. She whines, then moans as her hands curl over his neck, petting at the short hair at the base of his skull.

His hands fall to her ass to keep her in place, gives her a pinch and then a grope when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear at all.

And that’s where the well must have run dry, because she tilts her face away with a series of soft pants, squeezes her trembling thighs around him as if to make a silent demand to stop, or maybe not. Everything she does makes him feel both hot and crazy; she doesn’t even attempt to wind out of his grip here, only looks up at him sultry and helpless. She must be wet, he can smell it, practically taste her already, but he doesn’t persist when she halts this dance.

“Wait… waitwait. I don’t even know your name.”

“König.”

She laughs breathlessly, then dips her head to press against his shoulder. His hand immediately rises to pet at her hair, twirling a few strands between his fingers as she tells him her name in turn.

“I don’t really want this to just be… one night, you know?,” she says, and that intrigues him.

“That so..?”

“Mhm…”

He slowly lowers her back down until her feet meet the carpeted floor, then takes her face into both hands while she gives him a cute pout. He could be sympathetic, could make her love him even… she’s left the door open for him already, after all.

“I could just hold you,” he mutters, tracing a circle into her cheek, savoring in the way her eyes seem to light up at that.

“I would like that.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader #being gifted this ask after that one anon put the thought in my head to begin with? you all are a godsend actually

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drdemonprince · 19 hours

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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

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hidtired · 2 days

Text

Unfortunate Timing [Part 2]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

4.2k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

A single moment can change your life, change the world. Everything only seemed to get worse. The quarry was a group of survivors that had formed. You and the Dixons were outcasts, at least it felt like it. The girls seemed to see you in low regard being pregnant. The men were no better. They saw you as a burden. The feeling of people talking behind your back stressed you out. Being pregnant also didn’t help. You felt tired all the time, also being plagued with morning sickness. Which is a stupid name when it happens all day. Throwing up in a world were food is now limited also leaves you uneasy.

You also see that stress weighing on Daryl. It wasn’t long ago he struggled with the fact of having a kid. Now seemed even more terrifying. He was becoming short tempered, to his credit only snapping at you once but regretted the way he almost made you cry. “No! I won’t take a break I have to keep going out there for food! You’ve been throwing up half the shit I’ve already gotten for you!”

He didn’t mean for it to sound like your wrong for doing so, he knew you couldn’t help it. He saw the glassy film come to the corner of your eyes. His heart tugged. You were in your tent you shared, sat on the sleeping bag with your head shamefully down. “No, no. Come on…” he angled your face back up to met his. He sank to his knees in front of you. “I know you can’t help it. M’ just trying to say you need more. I just want to make sure you’re gettin enough.” You had asked him to stay because he was rarely around. He was out alone looking for food and you couldn’t help but see every time he came back a little more on edge. He was getting into his head to much out there.

He knows you’re having a hard time. With being pregnant at this moment in time how could you not. You had tried to talk to the mothers of the camp for advice on anything, they didn’t bat an eye to you. You had looked for support and were denied it. He saw that you were being treated like a Dixon. Something he was familiar with, and something Merle also understood. Merle became more chill around you. No more sexual comments or sexist remarks. Doesn’t mean he is any less better to be around. He treated you like a sister you thought. He still was an ass. Making mean comments or complaining about something you did. But he had become family.

Andrea was your biggest pain. She seemed like she had something to prove. She hated the traditional female roles that had been pushed onto the girls. You understood her disliking for Merle but she attached that to Daryl and you as well. She didn’t say outright mean things but subtle jabs. Week after week it was chipping at your demeanor.

So here you are now, you think almost 3 months pregnant. Seeing Daryl was the highlight of whenever he appeared. You sat in your tent with him getting ready for his 2 day hunting trip for a deer he knew was near by. He signed feeling your eyes on him, “Yer breakin my heart with that look.” Your smiling face replacing your sulking one, “I’m just missing you already.” You stood up, “You should see something before you go.” He turned to you questioningly. You pulled your shirt up over your stomach and turned to the side, “I know I haven’t seen myself in a mirror for a while but, I think I’m showing?” You looked up from your little bump that you could see spotting the surprised face he was making. He gulped before talking, “Ya sure are…” he walked closer placing a hand to your tummy. You saw his teeth were clenched. He felt the weight of pressure crushing him,

“We are doing are best, that’s all I could ask form you.”

He left for his hunt a little less stressed. You also saw Merle off later into the day with the first group run to the city. “Hey do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.” Merle turned to you, “And have those freaks naw on m' sweet ass?” You chuckle as you walk away, “Let’s just hope you remember your ass from your elbow!”

The day progress like any other. It had just become the afternoon when the sound of the radio chirped on. It cause some disagreement about making a sign to warn others about the city. You just went back to minding your own business. You helped boil water taking notice of Lori trimming her son’s hair. You spoke up noticing the displeased look on Carl's face, “Going for a mohawk Carl? Or maybe you’re thinking bald.” His nose scrunched up at the thought. You laugh at the reaction, “Bald people run faster.” Carl smiled, “Nuh-uh!” You shook your head and shrugged, “How do you know if you won’t try.” He looked to his mom, “I’d rather have hair than be faster!” He said it to his mom like he tried convincing her to not make him bald. Lori smiled at her son, “Ya me to, but if you keep moving you might be bald at the end of this.” He straightened and stilled, but he still spoke, “I hate haircuts…”

Shane came and sat down looking at you briefly. “One of these days you’ll be missing your mother’s hair cuts.” Carl rolled his eyes, "I'd like to see that day!" It had initially shocked you that Shane wasn’t Carl's dad. You always assumed for how close they were and how often they would walk into the woods together. Then it put a gross feeling into your mouth that his father had only recently died. Shane was his apparent best friend and coworker. But it wasn’t necessarily wrong, you just didn’t like to think about it often.

After finishing with boiling water you handed it to Carol. You felt sweaty and all around unpleasant. You needed a nap. You said to Carol that you were going to lay down if they needed to find you. You woke up to arguing. The group that went out had radioed saying there was a problem. Everyone was scared for their respective family that had gone to the city. You felt a pit form in your stomach. The hormones in your body already swarming causing you to be unable to control them. You picture what happened to your Aunt in front of you. Sometimes it still feels as if the blood was still on your face. The thought of knowing she was one of those things walking around somewhere. Maybe they all were already dead let her. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Merle as a person but, you knew deep down he was another person to help protect your baby.

You decided there was no use in stressing yourself, so you went and distracting yourself with chores. Laundry, moving fire wood to our fire pit, took a walk near the perimeter, which now leaves you here at the waters edge. You used the cool water to help with the swelling in your feet and ankles. Week after week you had the sense that being pregnant is going to really suck farther down the road. You fiddle with your knife while swaying your feet in the water. Lost in your own world when an echo starts to ring out throughout the quarry.

The car alarm got louder so you slipped your shoes on and walked back up to the camp. You saw a red car and Glenn standing outside of it. Shane opening the hood and pulling something to stop its beeping. People were yelling at him for answers when a van appeared, ‘so everyone made it back.’ It was a relief to stop the constant thought of the worse. You couldn’t help but notice Merle nowhere to be seen. But that thought was pushed aside when you heard Carl scream,

“DAD!”

You watched with a smile at the reunion of the Grimes family. Also taking notice of Shane making a weird face. He probably was feeling sick to his stomach and you thought it kinda deserved. He did persuade his grieving wife. The thought was interrupted by T-dog coming toward you with a concerned face. You clicked something was wrong, then started to look around. Merle was still no where. The sinking feeling of realization hit you. T-dog watch as understanding washed over you. A hand over your mouth, “W-where is Merle?” A few others turning at the mention, Lori’s husband taking the most notice. T-dog spoke first, “He was putting all of us in danger. He was cracked out of his mind.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ‘I told him to behave.’ You inhale trying to calm yourself, “He dead?” T-dog shock his head. You nodded looking at all the pears of eyes on you. Your eyes were shiny but nothing fell. You huffed and walked back to your tent. While you were upset about Merle being gone it wasn’t about that. It proved how fucked this new world was becoming. A world your child would have to be in. Suddenly being pregnant with them seemed like the safest place for them. Your thoughts of how it would suck later in pregnancy and 'couldn’t wait for it to be over' stopped. Your child is the safest it will ever be in its life. That terrifying thought scared you.

It wasn’t until later when the sun began to set that you had calmed. It was cold and you wanted to sit by a fire. People were surprised when you appeared and sat with them. You had over heard parts about what happened to Rick. But at the sight of you got them talking about Merle. It was Dale who brought it up, “Who is going to tell Daryl Dixon about his brother?” Rick glanced to you then back to Dale, “I will. I’m the one who handcuffed him.” Then T-dog shook his head, “Nah I dropped the key, makes this one mine.” Based on that information you started to piece what happened on the run. That thought stalled to a stop when Glenn stated, “Not to make it about race but maybe a white guy should tell him?” Is that what they thought about Daryl? They just assuming he is like his brother? You huff in anger, “Really Glenn? He is not racist. He’s only the person that, you know, been feeding all of you.” Glenn turned sheepish at your harsh tone. You stood, “But you know, leave his brother for dead seems like a good trade for how much he has been doing for all of you people!”

You visible deflate mood switching on a dime. You move a hand to your small bump, “Sorry I know you probably had a good reason, Merle is a hard ass.” You sunk back down enjoying the fire too much to go to bed. Rick’s voice spoke calmly, “Your pregnant.” He stated it more as a realization. You look to his shocked face, clearly thinking of how unlucky a timing it was to be. You chuckled speaking sarcastically, “Keep up with those observations and you’re sure to make detective.” His eyebrows drawn in by thought, “Merle was the father?” Disgust washing over your face, “Ew. God I take it back.” Everyone was surprised at your blatant dislike for Merle. They knew Daryl was the dad. You start to clarify, “Daryl is the dad.” You took notice of there original reaction, “Look I don’t like Merle anymore then you probably do. Half the time I don’t think Daryl does either! But he is still at the end of the day my family now.”

Peoples lack of trying to talk to you has put there own version of you in there head. They thought you were quiet and jumpy. Questioning if they did talk to you they would do more harm then good like with Carol. Now the few talks they’ve had or heard from you made sense. You were out spoken and just tired from being pregnant. You stood up again feeling awkward. “I’m going to bed, figure out what to say to Daryl. Maybe watch out for a punch or two.” So you walked off to bed. You were happy you could see Daryl in the morning, but the thought of him learning of his brother broke your heart. You tossed and turned most of the night with the thought.

The light shining through your tent lead you awake. Still trying to cling to as much sleep while feeling drowsy. Then you heard Carl and Sophia screams. You sat up and tried to get to your feet causing a wave of dizziness. The shuffling of stomping feet telling you people were running over there. You slip on shoes taking a moment to become alright with gravity again. Amy and Andrea walking away when you walked over a voice caught your attention, “Its gotta be the brain, don’t youall know nothing?” You smiled glad Daryl is back. When you turn the corner however you weren’t expecting a walker and deer to be sprawled out dead on the floor. You made eye contact with Daryl when the smell of the walker pulled a gag from you. The smile being wiped from your face as a hand comes to your mouth. You immediately turned back around and walked away.

Daryl was well aware of how sensitive your senses have become. You can’t handle anything raw at the moment. He noticed a week into the quarry how you would look at something raw, something that never bother you before, and it would make you queasy. Speaking of raw he should probably get the squirrels ready. He sighed watching you walk away with a love sick hopelessness washed on his face. Something that people have never taken notice of before. So he called for his brother to help, so he could get to you sooner. That's when all hell broke loose.

You heard the calls for Merle hearing Daryl walk back. Then you saw all the guys surround him. Then you watched him place back and forth. You knew that was a coping thing he did so you decided to stand closer. By the time you had walked over he threw the squirrels he’d caught at Rick. You didn’t even have a moment to yell his name when the former policemen jumped him and pinned him. Shane putting him in a headlock and Rick getting in his face. You yelled in displeasure,

“Get the hell off him!”

It was the loudest anyone has heard you, also the angriest. Shane had glanced to you before releasing his hold on him. Daryl sprung back up frustration clear on his face. When he turned to make sure you were behind him you caught a glimpse of his eyes becoming glassy. T-dog chimed in from the earlier conversation you didn’t hear, “It’s not his fault, I dropped the key.” Daryl’s voice strained, “You couldn’t pick it up?!” T-dog looked down guilty, "Well, I dropped it into a drain. But before I left I chained the door shut." Daryl shock his head and started to back up, "That supposed to make me feel better! Hell with all of y'all, just tell me where he is so I can go an get him." You hated to see him upset. You weren't expecting Lori to pipe p and volunteering her husband to take Daryl there. Rick said he was planning to go back anyways saying it was wrong for anything to suffer like that. Shane being the typical hard ass and self employed leader strongly disagreed. With a few others joining it was decided, they were going to get Merle back.

You were finally alone with Daryl again. He still seemed riled over everything but also you could see he was getting emotional. He was turned around facing away from you. You slowly wrapped you arms around him, holding him from behind. He slowly turned into you resting his chin on your head and arms going over your shoulders. You felt him release air, sinking into you. He try's to hide it but you see he is exhausted. You saw he felt like he had to prove something to you, or maybe just to himself. He released you with avoided eye contact. He took a moment with you and collected himself but, he was still a man on a mission.

You watch as Daryl throw things into a bag and refusing to met your eye to avoid whatever look that would break his heart. They were about to take off back to the city and into danger, so you stopped Daryl by putting your hands to his chest. He spoke before you could, "Look I have ta go get him, I know you don't want me goin-" You cut him of by grabbing his face, "When you see him again you tell him I warned his dumb ass, and when you get him back here I'm going to chew him out for this!" He looked at you stunned. You use your grip on his face to drag him into a kiss, "And you better comeback here without a scratch!" He smiled at you, eyes soft, he kissed you again.

"Yes Ma'am."

They had left hours ago and you had that uneasy feeling again. You respected Rick more then anyone else at the camp and he just got here. He was a decent guy but feel bad watching Carl's worried expression. Lori even flipped that he was going right after she herself said he was. Mood swings on that girl, and your the one whos supposed to be pregnant. Jim was off digging which concerned a few. It led to him tided to a tree for his own safety. Granted it was the only eventful thing that would probably happen today. Unless a swamp monster dragged itself out of the water you and all the girls were doing laundry in. Although Ed was a close to one. It was a welcome distraction all the same. To have girl talk again was essential to any girl and none can say other wise. Most of the girls seemed like they could now talk to you and it was a relief.

Although Andrea kinda still sucks the life out of fun, "So how did you end up pregnant?" Most girls look over to her wet laundry in hand and displeased looks by the question. You tightly rung a shirt and looked at her in the eye, "Well, I think your a little old for the birds and bees talk." That gained an eye roll from her but chuckles from the others. You smiled before giving her the answer you are sure she was trying to dig for, "I found out a day before the fall." The thought making you think of your Aunt. You continued on anyways, "Daryl and I hadn't been dating that long I'll be honest, so it wasn't exactly planned. Then I thought it was the end of the world." You look around to the thoughtful faces around you and shrugged, "Turns out I was a day off on that though." It was lighthearted from there, mentions of things that they missed from before. Carols unexpected and less then innocent choice sent waves of laughter throughout the lady's. That fun was crushed by the swamp monster known as Ed.

It lead to something you didn't expect. His sexism rubbing everyone the wrong way. Making Andrea questioned what he did instead of sitting on his ass doing nothing. Which while true and agreed with it lead to him to try to take Carol away and most likely go hit her. When Andrea challenge Ed in doing so it left a sinking feeling in you. You were uncomfortable with confrontation, probably do with the way your parents had treated you. Even with the sinking feeling you try and pull Carol behind you. The exaltation of his action were unpredictable, "Think I won't hit some pregnant whore?!" That was the first swing. It almost fully landed grazing your cheek. Carol had used the arm you had on her to tug you back before he swung. The frightened yelps and yells grabbing the attention from those farther. Carol now stood slightly in front of you, your cold damp hand moving to your warmed cheek he clipped. Ed now focused on his wife slapping her and trying to drag her away but the other girl now stepping in and clung to her. You didn't even see Shane before he pulled Ed backwards and began to lay punch after punch into him. Everyone but Carol were stunned into silence. Carols cry's and the grunts coming from the men filled the air. So many Jim wasn't the only thing that was going to happen today.

Everything was tense after that. With the amount things gone wrong and the still missing members that went to the city, moral was low among the group. Later in the evening Amy and Andrea had gone fishing catching dinner. The sun drifted closer to fully set as the fish was cooked with one question still in there minds, 'Where were they?' The smell of the fish left you gagging and need for fresher air. You found you way back to the water to dip you again swollen feet. It wasn't a unusual thing you did, you did it often. Knife in hand and legs swaying in the cool water. The light dissipated making you aware you should get back soon. You had heard laughs by the camp so moral was rising from the stressful day. You used your cold hands to press to your reddened face from almost getting flattened out by Ed. Daryl would will not be happy about that. You had pulled you feet from the water shaking the water off them to put your shoes on. Then the day got even worse. A scream ripped threw the air making you turn to the sound. You see outlines of figures in the dark. You feel fear crash into you.

'Walkers...'

There were even two coming closer to you from the woods to the side of the water. They had almost snuck up on you if you hadn't looked around because of the scream. A tremble was in your hand as you gripped the knife you had. You slowly back away, hearing gunshots off in the air. Daryl had taught you this for this moment. He had grilled this into in fear that maybe he wouldn't be around to protect you. The first walker was a thin women, the other a male missing its arm and limping. You lunged the knife into the women's eye. Your knife breaking by the blade as the women fell over dead. The snapping of the metal was like slow motion, the other walker steps away from you. You step back bare feet getting hurt by the jagged rocks. You had looked down spotting a larger rock and hurriedly pick it up.

You remember the motions Daryl had showed you for self defense but had never practiced them with him. He didn't really like the idea of rough housing with his pregnant girlfriend even if it was for your defense. You reached and tugged the one arm the walker had and tripped the thing in the motion. It was flat on the floor about to get back up and grab at you. However, rock in hand you threw downward blows one after another even after the thing stopped moving. Blood splatting all over you shirt and down your arms. The buzz of adrenalin causing your hands to violently shake when you stopped swinging. The urge to cry was strong but you notice the now slue of gunshots that had increased stop. The silence broken by the yell and worried cry for your name.

"Y/N!!!"

Your body fluttered at the sound of Daryl. Still bare foot you ran up the gravel hill and yelling back to him with a emotional in your voice, "DARYL!!!" You had made it to the top getting to see him wipe around to your voice. His crossbow dropped to the ground as you both booked it toward each other. He didn't know what to think when he couldn't find you after the last walker fell. The inability to find you cracking a desperate hole into his chest. When he heard you and saw you running to him relief flooded him. As he ran panic rose again seeing you dripping in blood. Inches apart he heard your desperate sobs before crashing into one another. He pulled you off your feet lifting you into him. His voiced stuttered out, "Are you bit?! Are you ok?!" You voice quivering as you sucked in a breath. "I'm alright-t." He felt you shaking like a leaf and whispered into you, "I've got ya, nothin is gonna hurt ya." You had barred your face into his neck now crying in relief. Daryl helped you get cleaned up, that night you clung to him while everyone 'slept'. A moment can change everything, and it was clear to everyone after today.

They were no longer safe here and things were only going to get worse.

Part 3

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lydiimae · 2 days

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Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

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kinardscoffee · 2 days

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Does anyone else think that Tommy rehearsed what he wanted to say to Buck in the drive over to his loft?

Cause when Buck opens the door, Tommy seems a bit lost in thought to me. He's looking down at the floor. Telling himself that he's Tommy Kinard and he didn't do anything wrong but Eddie told him that something about Buck just seemed off lately and he feels bad because Buck loves the people in his life to the fucking extreme. He'd easily take a bullet for any of them, and he's even put himself in that position multiple times.

So, Tommy decides to stop by Buck's place before he has to go on shift because there's no way he can focus at work knowing Buck feels excluded.

And he has no idea what to say? "Sorry I stole your best friend and his son. I just wanted to feel a millisecond of that happiness you experience on the daily."

He expects to show up, apologize, and explain that he's not a threat and never would or could be.

And it's flowing. The conversation.

Tommy tells Buck that he just wanted to be part of that family atmosphere that the 118 have. Because that's the root of it, isn't it? To be around people who like you for exactly who you are? No expectations.

Tommy has never had that before.

Sure, the people at work include him, but it's a different type of inclusion. He doesn't know the names of their family members, he doesn't sit down with them for "family dinner" like Bobby does.

They are just coworkers. Nothing more.

But those four individuals that asked for his help that night?

They didn't hesitate once to save Bobby and his wife. No questions asked, no confirmation needed. All because someone didn't answer their phone.

Tommy can't help but feel a warm magnetism between them. A silent confirmation that, no matter what, they will always have each other's back at any given time.

And the people THEY love... they're included under that umbrella of certainty and that's where Tommy thinks he fucked up.

Because Buck is under everyone's umbrella.

So, he's honest. Tommy doesn't know how not to be. He tells Buck he was jealous of all those things, and maybe that played a part in how situations unfolded, but that was never directed at Buck.

And then...

Wait.

Buck tells Tommy that he asked for the tour because he wanted to get to know him. Tommy. Buck explains that this whole thing hasn't been him trying to win back his found family, but join them in including Tommy within their unit.

"... 'cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting."

That's the jump start to Tommy's brain.

His attention? His?

"My attention?"

All this time, Tommy has been making the first move in the name of camaraderie. He invited Eddie to the fight. He invited him to trivia night.

But Buck was just trying to simply get Tommy to fucking look at him.

And now, in Buck's apartment, listening to Buck rambling about how he's not as cool as Eddie and how he understands why Tommy would prefer to hang out with Eddie...

Tommy sees him.

He acts on that magnetism he's felt from Buck since that first night. He thought, after speaking with Eddie, that it was full of resentment, but now, as he presses their lips together, Tommy thinks that, maybe, this could be something.

And he's ready to try.

#i don't really know what this is?#i had a thought and now we're here #911 abc #911 fandom #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #help me

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writingquestionsanswered · 12 hours

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Someone mentioned that main characters can get overdeveloped. I'm familiar with characters being underdeveloped, but how do you tell if they are overdeveloped?

5 Signs Your Character is Overdeveloped

#1 - You spend time illustrating personality traits that aren't important to the story. Your character's personality traits should have some bearing on how they move through the story. Don't take the time to illustrate your character's stubbornness if being stubborn won't have some impact on the story.

#2 - You excessively describe their physical appearance and what they're wearing. While it's a good idea to give the reader a sense of what the character looks like and to describe what they're wearing when it shows something important about the character, world, or situation, the reader doesn't need an in-depth physical description--or even reminders--every time the character appears on the page.

#3 - You spend a lot of time illustrating their interactions and relationships with minor characters even though they have no bearing on the story. We like our characters to feel real and three-dimensional, which means giving the reader a sense of who they are, what their normal life is like, and who is important to them. However, we don't want to spend a lot of time on characters/relationships that don't really do anything for the story. For example, it's nice that your character has a good relationship with their elderly neighbor, but if the relationship isn't necessary to show us who the character is, set up or execute a plot point, or fulfill a thematic/symbolic role, it probably shouldn't be there.

#4 - Your character is a "jack of all trades." It's great for your character to have hobbies, skills, and experience in various things, but we don't want our characters to look like a walking, talking, padded resume. For the most part, any hobby, skill, or experience highlighted should play an important role in the story. If being proficient at roller skating doesn't tell us something about the character we can't learn another way, allow for the setup or execution of a plot point, or fulfill a thematic/symbolic role, it's probably not important to highlight that hobby, skill, or experience--or any other that doesn't contribute to the story.

#5 - You spend a lot of time on unnecessary backstory - Backstory plays an important role in helping us to understand who the character is, how they got to where they are in life, what things led up to their internal conflict and emotional wound/s, etc. However, we don't want to spend time on things that aren't ultimately important to the story in some way. For example, there's no point in flashing back to your character's week at surfing camp if nothing happened that week that is important to who they are or anything else that happens in the story.

A good rule of thumb for really any detail in a story is to ask yourself, "What is lost if I remove this detail?" If the answer is "nothing," you can probably go ahead and remove it. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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keyotosprompts · 1 day

Text

not easy to please ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

alternatives to popular tropes

⇴ siblings's worst enemy

they're your sibling's enemy, so of course they're yours too. they're despicable and you seriously want them dead. luckily for you, the feeling's mutual.

⇴ struggling ceo and their know-it-all office worker

how did this mf become the ceo of one of the most progressive countries in the world?? they're clueless and you're the one that has to fix all their mistakes. you seriously don't get paid enough for this (unless they can come up with another way to pay you).

⇴ marriage of inconvenience

what happens in vegas stays in vegas. except when you've signed an official marriage contract, and everything is so much more complicated before. now this person is stuck with you until you can divorce! (or will you?)

⇴ forbidden hate

your parents absolutely adore the idea of the two of you together. they have wedding pinterest boards, future plans, and baby names for the two of you. only one thing: you two kinda hate each other, and hell would have to freeze over before you'd ever get with them.

⇴ no more second chances

sorry dude! f'ed up really bad the first time, and now you're not giving anymore chances, and your ex has to deal with the consequences. one problem: they can't deal with the consequences bc they're literally in love with you. hm. just what will this person do to get you back?

⇴ not so secret identity

everyone knows who they are. not even the old mask and hat trick could prevent people from identifying them. and it's fine–they absolutely bask in the fame. one problem though: they're a constant target to the entire world. perfect!

⇴ separated from each other

they never get any alone time. alone together in an elevator? too bad, a party of ten just showed up, pushing the two of you on the opposite side of the elevator. finally alone at home? nope! unfortunately, your friends make a surprise visit! oh how will you two ever get past this?

⇴ "you deserved it."

a normal person would've asked "who did this to you?" except your bond is not normal. not in the slightest. i mean seriously, what does this person want from you?

⇴ "i can't have you, so i'll let someone else take my place."

they know that they're not good enough for you, and that you deserve someone better than them. so, they choose to let you go, and hope that someone else can make your world light up like they used to

⇴ the one that is still here

everywhere you go, this person is there. whether it's physically, mentally, or spiritually, everything ties back to them. everything reminds you of them. you couldn't even escape if you tried.

⇴ playboy but he's actually a nerd that cannot get play

he's gorgeous–he's the most attractive man you think you've ever seen in your life. you think he's probably got it all–girls or boys coming up to him nonstop. only, that's not true in the slightest. somehow, he's managed to fumble every single time.

⇴ nobody wants the bad boy

he's troubled. there are rumors of him starting fights 24/7, and he lives in a bad area. he could really fuck someone up. nobody wants him.

⇴ "you must be delusional"

lovers that know that they're in love with each other, but when admitting it to their friends, they shut down their feelings.

⇴ loving someone to save them

none of that breaking up nonsense. love is power. their love and support causes you to be stronger than ever. knowing that there's love out there gives you a reason to keep on going. love saves you.

⇴ too smart to live

you've outdone yourself this time. bypassed every guard, rule, and law without anyone catching you. so, of course, there's only one solution here: to eliminate you.

⇴ different worlds (revised)

you grew up poor while they grew up rich. now, in the present, you are the more successful one, while they are struggling to get their life together. now, you must help the one who used to be in your current position, and fix things together.

⇴ one-sided blind date

rule one of having a blind date: you should not know who you're meeting. well, too late! you sneaked a peek at your friend's phone and found out who you'll be seeing soon. now, you're scrambling to get out of this date because you know exactly who it is.

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#writeblr #writing #writing prompts #otp prompts #otp writing #imagine your otp #creative writing #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #writerscommunity #creative inspiration #writer stuff #tropes #character dynamics #about writing

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morgana-larkin · 2 days

Note

I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)

Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀

Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 12 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: still taking prompts peeps!

Don’t Call Me That

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me

Words: 2.25k

You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.

Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.

“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.

“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.

“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.

“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”

“Why?” You ask, concerned.

“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.

“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.

“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.

“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.

“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.

On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.

“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.

“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.

“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.

“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.

Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.

“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.

“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.

“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.

“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.

Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.

She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.

She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.

“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”

“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.

“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.

“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.

“It was the best decision.”

“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.

“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”

“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.

“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.

“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.

Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.

“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.

“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.

“I know, I just, I miss her.”

“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.

“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.

2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.

Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.

10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.

You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.

You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.

Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.

You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.

“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.

“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.

“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.

The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.

It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.

The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.

“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.

“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.

“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”

“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”

“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.

“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.

“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.

As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”

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#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

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