#what he gets up to back in the UK is none of my business but when he’s out here it’s just us pretty much

[anto-pops]

Pardon my French:

He looks like he gets hella bitches

……He absolutely does but I do too so it’s okay LMAO 💀

[13uswntimagines]

Rainbowfish (Leah X Alessia X child!r)

Request: R calls Leah mom for the first time.

Part of the Big Emotions universe- find more here.

Warnings: none. Cute Kid Fic.

Author's note: TBH I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one, and the ending is a bit short, but I wanted to get it out. Also, I know in the UK it's Mum and not Mom, but that's a plot point I want to explore later Lol. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Your bedtime story was very important business in the Russo-Williamson household. 

It was the one part of your routine that never ever changed. The one part that you would refuse to sleep without (aside from a few weeks during the World Cup). 

It was your absolute favorite part of the day, being cuddled into your Mama’s side with Squirt as she read you the book of the night. She did all the little voices and gently scratched your back. it never failed to send you straight to sleep. Most of the time you didn’t even make it through the book. 

Alessia treasured it. 

No matter how busy your days were, she made sure she got to read you your story. In the days with Manchester United, it had been the only time she really got to spend with you regularly. Things were better with Arsenal and since you had moved in with Leah, but your routine had stuck, and Leah respected that it was your special time with your mama.

“‘Thank you! Thank you so much!’ The little blue fish bubbled playfully, as he tucked the shiny scale among his blue ones,” Alessia read, watching as your tiny fingers traced the tiny shimmering scale on the blue fish on the page, made of a different material than the rest. 

It was your favorite part of The Rainbow Fish. 

His scales were different from the pages, so they shimmered in the fairy lights around your room. 

“Is Leah Rainbow Fish?” You asked, running your fingers over the fish. 

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled together, a crinkle forming between them (identical to the one you always got). “What do you mean bug?”

“Is that why people always stop her?” You glanced up at your mama, meeting eyes that were identical to your own. “So she give them a shiny scale,” 

You wondered how she hid them all under her clothes. Maybe that was why people always wanted her and your mama to take their shirts off, to see their shimmery scales. 

Alessia hummed, rubbing her hand through your messy curls. “Leah is kind of like a Rainbowfish, but instead of giving away scales, she reminds people that they’re special too,”

A little crease appeared between your eyebrows as you processed the thought, and you dragged your little finger from the Rainbow fish towards the larger fish on the page. “Is Leah my mommy like Rainbow fish has mommy?”

Alessia eased another curl from in front of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. “Do you want Leah to be your mommy?”

You nodded. “She does bath time, and plays with me, And never forgets the popcorn for movie night,”

“She does,” Alessia agreed, her lips turning into a fond smile. 

“And she loves us,” You continued, meeting her eyes. 

They shined in the fairy lights of your room, glimmering with an innocence that Alessia would protect until the day she died. 

You mama hummed. “Very very much,”

“Then that means she’s mommy because she does all the mommy things,” You said, with a sense of finality, and understanding that was far beyond what Alessia thought a 2-and-a-half-year-old could understand. 

“Hmm,” She paused, brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. Her and Leah had never fully discussed titles, but she could see that you were right. That the defender had slotted perfectly into the role. That Leah had earned it. “I think Leah would be happy with whatever you decide to call her,”

You nodded like it was a done deal. “Finish story now?”

Alessia swallowed, unable to stop the fond smile from curling across her lips. “Yeah bug, well finish the story,” 

She would let you be the one to tell Leah about the discussion. 

She was sure the defender would appreciate it more coming from you anyway. 

******

“Come on bug, the sharks are this way,” Leah said softly, adjusting the ear defenders that accompanied you on most outings as you stared at the tank of Seahorses. 

These were painted with tiger sharks, sea turtles, seahorses, and jellyfish, a perfect accomplishment to the atmosphere of the aquarium, and the reason Alessia had them made.

It was probably a toss-up between the aquarium and the zoo for your favorite one-on-one activities with Leah. The carefully selected outings that weren't too loud, or overstimulating that Leah could take you on to distract you while Alessia had an obligation you couldn’t accompany her on. 

The seahorse tank was just inside the entrance to the building, small and lit with a variety of colorful LEDs. It never failed to catch your attention, and you could/would stand in front of it for hours if Leah let you, listening to her read off the information plaque several times. 

She would usually let you, but she spotted a school group bustling through the coral-shaped entranceway. She didn’t fancy being shoved aside by a bunch of screaming schoolchildren, and she knew you wouldn’t either. 

You didn’t enjoy crowds unless there was a barrier between you and them. 

You dragged your eyes away from the tank to meet hers, your head tilting as you squeezed Squirt more tightly to you.“Turtle?”

“And the turtles,” Leah agreed, catching your hand. “We can’t go through without seeing Rocky, Bella, and Culver now can we,”

You nodded seriously at the names of your favorite turtles, holding her hand tightly as she guided you past the seahorses and to the next tank. 

It was smaller, filled with 20 little fish milling about, their scales glinting off of the artificial light in the tank. 

“Rainbow fish?” You asked, looking up at Leah for confirmation. 

Leah squinted at the familiar plaque. “It says that these guys are Flame Angelfishes. They come from Hawaii, and they like to hang out on coral reefs,”

You frowned, turning back to the tanks as one of the smaller fish swam by. 

You knew they weren’t called rainbowfishes, but you still asked Leah each time, hoping for a different answer. 

“No rainbow fish?” You pouted, leaning closer to the tank, but not touching it. 

You knew it was important not to bang on the glass so you didn’t scare the fish. They wouldn’t be your friend if you scared them. 

“We can call it a rainbow fish,” Leah said, squatting down next to you. “I don’t think they’ll mind,”

You made a low sound, your fingers creeping their way past your lips. 

“Hey, none of that,” She scolded gently, pulling your fingers from your mouth. “We don’t know where those little fingers have been,”

It was a bad habit her and your mama were fighting hard to break, how everything from your fingers to your shirt collars ended up in your mouth. 

“Does rainbow fish give out his scales?” You asked, looking away from the tank to briefly meet her eyes. 

“Hmm,” Leah hummed at the familiar question, glancing back at the little fish curiously swimming in front of you. “I think they would share their scales if one of their needed friends needed one,”

“Like you give out your scales?” You asked, your eyes never leaving the tank. 

Leah frowned. “What do you mean bug?”

“You’re mama’s Rainbowfish,” You said earnestly, turning away from the fish to meet Leah’s eyes again. 

“I’m your rainbow fish too,” She said with a very soft smile, running her hand through your messy curls. 

You nodded, as though her words confirmed something for you. What, Leah wasn’t entirely sure. 

Several fish swam by, and you watched in wonder as they did circles around each other, and Leah felt herself fall a little more in love with you. 

In the beginning, she hadn’t been entirely sure how things would go when Alessia warned her that you two were a package deal. She always wanted kids, but she didn’t know if she was mother material now. 

Then she met you, and you wrapped your little hand around her finger and she knew you had her hooked. 

Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without you, or Alessia. She treasured getting to see your excitement and wonder at simple things, like fish swimming circles around a tank. 

She would stand here all day if that’s what you wanted. 

You did for a long second before you looked back up at her. “Turtles?”

She smiled down at you. “Yep, let’s go see the turtles,” 

You looked back at the tank, waving to the fish. 

One of the little fish swam across the face of the tank as though he was waving goodbye to you. 

You waved back at him, and Leah refrained from telling you that he probably didn’t understand what bye-bye rainbow fish meant. 

You took Leah’s hand and let her lead you deeper into the aquarium. 

********

Leah could tell you were getting tired as you finally made it all the way through the shark tunnel. Your little legs were dragging, and your fingers kept trying to find their way past your lips with increasing frequency. 

You had skipped your nap, and she knew you had a limited amount of time before you got grumpy, even if you were at one of your favorite places. It was always a balance of letting you experience the things you wanted and keeping you from getting overtired. 

“How about we see the rays and then go get some lunch?” She asked you, wiggling your hand. 

“Otay,” You mumbled, leaning into Leah and letting her pull you through the shark-shaped archway and into one of your favorite parts of the aquarium, the stingray touch tank. 

“Hello miss Y/n!” The peppy blonde worker smiled widely at you as soon as you rounded the corner and sent a wave to Leah. 

The two of you came here often enough that she knew you quite well. 

You sent her a small wave, making sure Squirt didn’t slip from under your arm. “Ello Kara,”

“Do you want to feed the stingrays today?” She asked you, gesturing towards the touch tank that you always visited. “Rocky and Dibs are in a very friendly mood,”

She knew you well enough to know that there were days when you liked to pet the rays and ones when you just wanted to watch. 

You perked up, nodding excitedly, turning to Leah and holding out your stuffed turtle. “Mommy, hold squirt so he no get wet?”

Leah blinked at you, making no move to take the turtle. “Say that again my darling?”

“You hold Squirt so I feed Rocky and Dibs?” You repeated, holding out the blue and green stuffed turtle. 

Leah blinked again and squatted in front of you, bringing her hands up to cup your jaw. 

“No bug, what did you call me?” She asked, her thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. 

“Mommy,” You said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Mama said be ok cause you my Rainbow fish,”

Leah hummed. 

Of course, you had talked it over with Alessia first. She would have been more surprised if you hadn’t. 

“It’s very ok,” She assured you, swallowing away the lump in her throat, and pulling you close so she could kiss your forehead. “I’m your Mummy and your rainbow fish,”

You tolerated her lips against your hairline for a very long second before you pulled away, holding your turtle out for her. “Hold squirt so he no get wet?”

It amazed her how… casual you were about all of this. How you said it as if it just made sense. She swallowed down the swelling in her chest, knowing you wouldn’t react well if she started crying, even if the tears were happy. 

“Sure, bug,” She smiled gently at you, taking the offered toy and holding him close as she released you. “Do you need help washing your hands?”

You shook your little head, turning back towards the blonde Stingray keeper. “No, Kara help me,”

She watched you as you toddled towards the sink, immediately talking to Kara about how the Rays were doing. 

She would watch over you forever. 

She was your Mum and your Rainbow fish.

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 4

2.8k | fluff, mentions of cheating John Price and the 50 billion other Johns of the UK (part 1) (part 5)

The bed shifted. A rustle, a thud. Distant whispers.

“… Yeah, sorry, John’s here now… Yeah? Okay, see you, love.”

John looked up with a soft groan when the door cracked open. “Sweetheart?” he croaked.

He squinted in the late morning sun, but he didn’t miss how wonderful you looked in his shirt, all soft skin and a radiant face as you climbed back into the comfort of his arms.

 “Sorry for waking you.” You kissed his cheek. “Harley wants to meet for lunch instead. That fine? We’ve got nothing planned, have we?”

“Of course, but I thought it was supposed to be dinner. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, her tattoo appointment got pushed back so she figured we should meet before.”

He remembered the photos you showed him, of your good friend from school with the pink hair and an array of colourful tattoos. You said she made the best cupcakes.

“And she just told me- I guess it’s a little silly.” You pulled a face. “But we were huge fans of this singer back in the day, and he just got exposed for cheating on his wife. I know it’s none of our business, but it’s just really sad to see. People are saying if a supermodel gets cheated on, us regular women stand no chance.”

He hummed. “You believe that?”

“No, it just depends if you’re faithful or not, but all cheaters are liars. And it doesn’t help that powerful people always have options lined up, but that’s just something you avoid, right?”

His body tensed. “W- what do you mean?”

“Just don’t be with someone who’s famous or away a lot. I mean… This is probably my insecurities talking, but it’s not for me.”

“There are plenty who are just as happy despite the distance.”

“That’s true.” You paused. “I didn’t tell you, but there was this bloke a while ago, had always been upfront about how difficult it could get with his job. I thought I could handle it. He didn’t hurt me or anything, but I don’t think I want to put myself in that situation again,” you said wistfully. “Dating celebrities must be even worse. On top of that, losing your privacy, being compared and criticised endlessly…”

“No, but do you really think it won’t work out?” He sat up, gripping your shoulders. “They’re just normal people behind all the drama, probably don’t even want any of it. Don’t you think they deserve a fair chance?”

“Why are you so riled up, John? Are you famous?” you teased. “You surely are handsome enough to be a model.”

He lay back down, avoiding your gaze as heat crept up his neck.

What the bloody fuck just happened? He was supposed to tell you everything, arrange a meet with his mates and maybe have you stay the night at his, but the very first conversation you had for the day turned out to be an atomic bomb.

“Well, you’re up now. I know it’s closer to lunch, but I’m still making you pancakes. I need you to try the blueberry jam I got you.” You kissed his forehead before making your way out the door.

A lump formed in his throat. Fuck, he was being a hypocrite. He hated that life and there he was trying to drag you into it too.

What had started as him trying to be cautious, innocently laying low had escalated into something else. This was going to look horrible, like he tricked you, especially after last night - it had meant the world to him. But it was never his intention to fool you.

The tide had turned in the blink of an eye. This had been his life for many years, but why the fuck didn’t it occur to him that being with him wasn’t ideal for most people? That no one dreamt of being with someone who was barely home, that this could very well be deal-breaker? If he had been waiting to trust you and let you in, now he was in danger of being left entirely.

“John, you okay?” you asked at the table.

He looked up from his plate and forced a smile. He wanted to throw up. Your pancakes were wonderful as always, but he could barely stomach them with these thoughts running through his head.

“I’m sorry, did you want to do something today?” You placed your fork down. “I should have asked you before saying yes to Harley.”

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just… Thinking, is all.” He reached across the table for your hand. “I can drop you off if you want?”

But all was not lost. Telling you now would only make the situation appear more disheartening than it was. He just had to prove to you that a relationship with him - no, he would be different. When he eased back into the season in a few weeks time, you wouldn’t even feel anything had changed – he’d make sure to show you the distance was nothing to worry about. He’d tell you then, and you’d be far less apprehensive.

Yeah, he could do that. If three weeks apart for Christmas was not a problem, being apart 4-5 days, twice a month would be a child’s play.

You agreed to him driving you to Harley’s, but even then he white-knuckled the steering wheel and barely spoke a word.

“John, did I do something?” You turned to him when he pulled up.

“No- sorry I’ve been distracted.” He chuckled sheepishly.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me, yeah?”

“Yes, I promise.” He pressed your hand to his lips.

You have him a small smile before you exited his car, hesitation in your eyes.

The little voice in his head knew he was stretching his façade. It was selfish, perhaps devious - he didn’t want to admit, that he still kept you in the dark even after you expressed your aversion. He had no excuse, but he wasn’t about to let this end, not before he tried his absolute best.

You wouldn’t be mad, would you? His heart was in the right place - he just wanted to save you the heartache. How he was going to make this work was his burden to carry. He just needed you to sit back and be patient with him while he figured things out.

Let me know if you want me to pick you up. Enjoy lunch x

The cold of winter mellowed as February inched closer to March. John had been counting down the days to the start of the season. He’d missed the ecstasy of speed and the itch to get behind the wheel only seemed to worsen.

He started ordering cookies for his team again weekly. He would take any excuse to see you one extra time, especially when you’d send him off with an off-menu drink and a kiss in front of his car.

What he severely underestimated though, was how cramped his schedule was going to be in preparation for the season with never-ending meetings, tests and interviews. He still made time to see you of course, but more often than not he’d be late to pick you up with impromptu events getting in his way.

That night was one of those times again.

“John, you know you can tell me if you can’t make it, yeah?” you said as you locked up your shop. “I really don’t mind going home on my own.”

“No, I want to, really.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “It’s just work has been ultra busy.”

You smiled. “Should I just come to yours this Friday? Let me return the favour.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, love. Like I said, I don’t mind the drive.”

You’d been asking more often, and John was only a few more questions away from breaking entirely. He couldn’t keep doing this to you. The lump in this throat was palpable each time your smile flickered when he gave you yet another excuse to not visit.

Despite the delay, John took you out for dinner at the place you’d wanted to try. You enjoyed yourself regardless, even that it was too late to catch a film after like he’d promised. Instead, you shared an ice cream and strolled along the streets among the thinning crowd.

At the end of the night, as he held the door open as you slipped into his GTI, someone yelled out his name. He turned to the source of the voice, and it was then the consecutive camera flashes stunned him. He quickly shut your door, jumped to his seat and drove away.

“Did someone call out for you?”

“To be fair, half of the men in the UK are called John.” He shrugged, making you chuckle.

With the thick beard, cap and face mask, the chances of paparazzi recognising him were slim to none, but there he was. The man had been a few metres behind the car - he must have only caught John’s side and your back. Regardless, he prayed the photos were shit enough to not make it online, let alone to anyone who might recognise you, and therefore him.

He swallowed and peered at you. “Love, I’m, uh… Heading to Bahrain for work next Wednesday.”

“Oh, how long?”

“I’ll be back Monday.”

“Okay.” You patted his thigh with a smile. “If you need anything for the trip, let me know if I can help.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least that went fine.

John held off shaving until the very last night before he left London for pre-season testing on the last weekend of February. It was always bittersweet to erase the months of effort, but this time it symbolised more than the beginning of the season.

Things weren’t going to be as easy with his schedule back in full swing, but he was confident. Everything would be alright and he’d be able to come clean in no time at all.

John called you at the end of each night, to make up for barely responding during the day. You’d tell him about your day, send him pictures of your meals and the new cookie flavours you tried baking at the shop.

On Sunday, you had JP with you at breakfast. ‘He asked for pancakes,’ you said. You served him a stack of tiny pancakes topped with a singular blueberry on an upside down teacup with a shot of milk on the side. He’d grinned at the photo, but most of all, he wanted to cry at how precious you were.

See, distance was not a problem for you and him – everything was fine. So on Monday night at your dining table, what you said caught him off guard.

“John- I just,” you began, moving your food mindlessly with your fork. “I don’t want to be clingy or demanding, but it’s been over three months. I don’t know where you live, I’ve never met any of your friends.” Your eyes met his. “Tell me I’m not unreasonable for wanting to know.”

“You’re not unreasonable at all.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not that I don’t want to, but for now I’m uncomfortable showing you where I live.”

“You know I don’t care whatever it looks like, yeah?”

“Could you give me some more time? I promise to take you when I’m ready. Please give me a few more weeks.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, and rightfully so. He had turned down each and every attempt to ‘know’ more of him.

Guilt continued to singe him. It was true that the coward dies a thousand deaths but the valiant one. He’d only hurt once for telling the truth, but now that the truth could drive you away from him, he couldn’t risk it.

“Also,” he winced. “I’m flying to Bahrain again on Wednesday.”

You frowned. “You literally were just there today.”

He couldn’t have picked a better time to tell you, could he? Did he have to keep breaking the news to you every week and watch the smile fall off the face of his favourite woman?

“Well, the team stayed there, but I thought I wanted to see you for a bit. I mean- two nights, that’s better than nothing.”

You laid your fork down and gave him a sympathetic look. You sighed before getting out of your seat. For a second he thought you were going to leave, but you went over and wrapped your arms around him as he was still seated.

“You don’t have to do that, John.” You held him against your chest. “I know it’s your job, and I’m not trying to make a fuss about it.”

“I want to,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

It was silly to admit it, but he’d grown terribly used to seeing you almost every day, sharing meals with you, waking up with his arms around you. He didn’t have the strength to be apart for so long.

Slumber inched closer and the rise and fall of his bare chest slowed under your cheek. He kissed the top of your head, pulling the comforter closer over your exposed shoulders.

“I enjoy seeing more of your handsome face, but I miss your beard already,” you muttered sleepily.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“First race of the season, eh!” Gaz slapped John on the back before plopping down onto the couch next to him. “Will we finally meet her?”

In the hospitality suite, it was the first time they had some quiet since he arrived in Bahrain.

He sighed. “Not yet.”

“Aw, thought it’s official now with your public appearance.”

“What?” He whipped to his teammate. “What are you talking about?”

“The photos. Have you not seen?” He pulled up an article.

Incognito John Price spotted with an unknown woman

The McLaren driver was recently seen strolling hand-in-hand with a mystery woman, sparking speculation among fans on social media. Though nothing is confirmed yet, John has been spotted multiple times with the same woman around the city, adding to the intrigue surrounding their relationship. For the outing, the Scouse opted for a casual ensemble as he’s often seen in, donning a black baseball cap and a matching face mask…

“Who the bloody fuck cares what I’m wearing?” he muttered under his breath.

He scrolled further down, finding photos of the both of you taken in bursts. A set were of you holding hands while walking down the street, the bloom of your laugh at something he said perfectly captured in the photographs. Some where he pulled his mask down to kiss you with an arm wrapped around your waist as you clung onto his bicep. And the last few were of him looking absolutely aghast in the flash as he held the car door for you before driving away.

“You look like shit in the last one though.” Kyle winced. “Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah,” he answered dryly, tossing the phone back to Gaz. “You’d probably look the same way if someone howled out your name and took your photos in the same second.”

John didn’t bother going through the sea of comments, not wanting to know what unsavoury remarks he was only going to find. He didn’t even realise the man the other day took so many photos. His heart melted at how lovely you looked in the candid pictures with your radiant smile - his favourite state of you, but his stomach churned at the same time.

How long hid he follow you? Spotted multiple times - did that mean there were other photos of the both of you floating around online? At least half of your face was obscured in the shots, but someone who knew you could very much recognise you regardless.

John Sloane was running out of time. There was only one way this was going. The truth had to come out, and it was his choice if he wanted it to explode and destroy what he had with you, or come from him, wrapped as best he could.

But he had time. He only needed a few more weeks to step up his game and get you used to the schedule, to make the transition as seamless as he could for you.

As always, he texted and called when he could, but he had to admit, he felt it. It wasn’t the same if he didn’t get to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you, because two days were not enough at all to let the craving for you melt away.

His confidence flickered, but it didn’t matter. It was his forte after all – his whole life had revolved around relentlessly pushing forward despite how painful it was.

And so he wasn’t giving up. Not on you, not this soon.

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[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask - CS55

Chapter One - Protected

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

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"Check," said Y/N as her Queen took his Knight. He had no moves himself, none that would win the game for him. In one more move Y/N could take his King, winning the game.

Lando stared at his sister, annoyance and amusement written on his face. "How did you get so good at chess?" He asked and leaned back in his chair. There was no point making his next move, not when she was going to win anyway.

With a smirk on her face, Y/N made that final, winning move. "I played a lot with my mum while you were off with dad."

Off doing unspeakable things.

While Y/N and Lando had the same father, they didn't share a mother. Landos mother had died when he was young. Nasty business really. He and his dad were alone until Y/Ns mother came along.

Landos dad and Y/Ns mother weren't meant to fall in love. It just sort of... happened. She gave the Norris boys so much love while being ruthless with their men. She fell into place in their world and, before she knew it, she was the heavily pregnant Mrs Norris.

A lot of people didn't realise Y/N and Lando were only half siblings. Some didn't realise they were related at all.

After having a baby girl, Mr Norris wanted to keep her away from their world. He already had Lando set up to take over from him, as head of the Norris family, working for the Hamiltons. But Y/N wasn't supposed to be involved.

"How is dad?" Asked Y/N as she packed away the chess set. Y/N hadn't seen her father in near two weeks. His health was deteriorating and he spent all of his time and energy working. Lando would be taking over as head of the Norris family but it was only once his body was in the ground. That was going to be any day now.

Lando cleared his throat and turned towards the window. "Don't be surprised if he calls you into his room any day now," he answered.

Oh. That wasn't good news. Y/N placed the wooden chess set back on the desk that used to belong to her mother and turned back towards her brother. "You have your first meeting with Mr Hamilton, don't you?" She asked, nervously chewing at her nails.

Lando narrowed his eyes towards her. "You've been listening in, haven't you?"

"Only sometimes," Y/N answered, sitting in her mothers chair. Sometimes she'd be there for hours, sitting behind the desk, pretending she was as involved in the Norris Family as her mother once was. They were big shoes to fill. “I could go with you, you know?”

“No!” Lando shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table in front of him.

Y/N jumped back. This was what her brother had been bred and raised for. Already he was ruthless and calculating, every bit the man their father had been trying to turn him into. “Dad wouldn’t allow it and neither will I,” he spat and stood from his chair.

Lando was already dressed in one of his best suits. He had attended several meetings with Mr Hamilton before, but none without his father. This was his first. He wasn’t yet head of the family, but he was going to act like it. At these meetings he was used to being seen and not heard, but this was his first time speaking. It was on behalf of his father, yes, but the words were still coming from Lando.

He marched out of the study, leaving Y/N there. He didn’t apologise for being harsh; it was the only way to keep her safe.

Y/N watched her brother go. As soon as he was gone, Y/N began trying to pull open the desk drawers. They were locked, had been ever since her mother had died. But she was desperate for some way to be close to her mother; it was lonely in a crime family when you couldn’t be involved with the crime.

When she couldn’t get into the desk, she stood and walked out of the room.

The halls were full of portraits. Members of the Norris family that had since passed on. there were family portraits, too. One of little Lando with his mother and his father and one of Lando, Y/N and their parents. Further down the hall there was a portrait of Lando’s mother and another of Y/N’s mother. Mr Norris loved both of his wives equally, that was clear to anyone.

Two men stood on either side of Y/N’s door. They were silent, unspeaking. The guns Y/N knew they had on them were saying enough. She walked past them, giving just a curt nod and pushed the door shut behind her.

Just because she wasn’t a part of the crime family didn’t mean her father didn’t want her protected. There were men outside of her door and men under her window. There were at least two at every entrance; nothing came in or out of the house without them knowing.

She sat on her bed and looked towards her window. Normal girls could go out and spend time with their friends. They could go out and get dinner, sit at a bar with a cocktail in hand. They could go out to the club and dance the night away. But not Y/N. She had to sit in her room and dream of a life she could never have.

***

Lando was in the big leagues now. When he was a boy he used to sit on the side lines, taking notes for his father. But now he was up at the table with the other heads of house. Charles Leclerc of Monaco, Carlos Sainz Sr, one of the heads of family from Spain. There was Sergio Perez from Mexico, Jos Verstappen from the Netherlands and more.

At the head of the table was Lewis Hamilton. He ran everything, kept all of the families together. Before him there had been Schumacher and then Vettel. Hamilton was a wonder boy. He’d risen up in the ranks in the button family before breaking away and starting his own. It had started a war, a war that Hamilton had been quick to put an end to.

He was in charge of the crime family now.

Lando listened as Lewis ran the meeting. He spoke to each family member, a man from his organisation taking notes. “We have a newcomer at the table today,” Lewis bellowed, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. “As we all know, Norris isn’t in the best of shape. So, in his steed, he has sent his son, Lando.”

Lando has a tight smile as he waved to the rest of the room. He’d met them all before, Sainz and his father were once friends. He’d spent a lot of time with his son when he was younger.

Finishing the meeting, Hamilton dismissed everybody. “Ah, Lando, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asked as he lit a cigar.

Lando walked over to him and accepted the cigar he offered to him. “What can I do for you, sir?” Lando asked, sitting in the seat beside his own.

Hamilton took his cigar from between his lips. “As you know, your father and Sainz haven’t always been the best of friends. There has been something brewing between your families for a while now and it is my job to squash it. Your father, Sainz and I have been having talks for years now, and we came to one conclusion.”

Lando cleared his throat. He hadn’t smoked very much before, but it was a habit he had been picking up since his father’s health started declining. “What might that be, sir?”

“Your sister.”

Lando’s face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth felt metallic. “What sister?” His protective instincts kicked in, but he couldn’t do anything in front of Hamilton. Lando felt sick.

“Before your mother died, she came up with a plan to unite your families. Your sister is to marry Sainz Jr and you’re to make sure it happens, okay?”

Hamilton gave Lando no time to reply. He put out his cigar and walked away, leaving Lando still sitting at the table.

He couldn’t stand up. His chest hurt and he needed to empty his stomach. Lando stood from his seat and rushed out of the room. He made his way through the halls and out to his car. He couldn’t throw up in Lewis Hamilton’s bushes, could he? No, Lando had to get home.

Driving around the fountain, Lando sped back home. He could hide his sister away, couldn’t he? Send her somewhere that didn’t have any of the families in power. Their house in Monaco was a no go, not while Charles was in power. Maybe their house in Belgium, but too many families in power surrounded the country.

Driving home was a blur for Lando. He couldn’t allow his little sister to marry into another crime family. And it was a plan his stepmother came up with. She was the one hellbent of protecting Y/N in the first place; how could she let this happen?

As soon as Lando was out of his car, he threw up onto the gravel driveway. He threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach. Lando couldn’t face going inside, not yet. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. How was his father allowing this?

Lando wanted them answers. He wanted them real bad.

Leaving his car where it was, Lando marched towards the house. He threw his eyes to somebody at the front door and stormed past them. Up several flights of stairs and towards the furthest bedroom. When he walked past Y/N’s bedroom, his steps faltered. She was in there, and she had no idea what was waiting for her.

Lando burst into his father’s bedroom. It was a horrible sight to see, him laying in bed hooked up to oh so many machines. He stared at Lando as he walked over to the desk, grabbed the chair and dragged it back over to the bed. “Dad,” he said, staring at him.

Mr Norris didn’t respond. He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.

“I had my first meeting with the heads of the families today,” Lando said, his leg bouncing. “Hamilton pulled me to the side to talk about a deal Helena made with Sainz. Do you already have an invite to Y/N’s wedding? Or am I the last to find out? Well, aside from Y/N, of course.”

Mr Norris coughed. “Has she met with him yet?”

“What?”

“Has Y/N met with Carlos Sainz Jr yet?”

Lando shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Arrange it for the end of the week. I want the ball rolling on this as soon as possible,” said Mr Norris. He waved his hand, dismissing his son, but Lando ignored it.

“No,” he said and stood up. He pushed his hair back, knocking it over. “No, not until you tell me why! Why are you throwing Y/N to the lions when we’ve spent the last twenty years trying  to protect her?!” He shouted, fury written on his face.

Mr Norris shook his head. "You know what will happen if we do not make peace with Sainz. Set up a meeting between Y/N and Sainz Jr."

With no other choice, Lando left the room. He stopped just outside of his father's door and punched the wall. The men guarding Y/N's door watched, but they didn't let their gazes linger.

Lando let out a shout as his fist connected with the wall, but he didn't register the pain. There were more pressings things at hand.

He marched down the hallway and pushed his way into Y/Ns room. "Lan!" She cried when he pushed the door shut behind him. "How was your meeting with the heads of family?"

This wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with Y/N. But, what other choice did he have? He was supposed to arrange a meeting between her and Carlos.

Lando stood by the window, looking out into the gardens. "We've got something we need to talk about," he said, refusing to look at her.

"What's the matter, Lan?"

With a sigh he turned around and sat on the bed beside her. "Before your mother passed, she set up a business deal using the help of our dad, Hamilton and Sainz. This business deal actually involves you."

"Me?" Y/N gasped as she stared at her brother. "What could I possibly have to do with anything?"

Lando sucked in a breath. "You know the problems we've been having with the Sainz family? Well, your mother, our father, Hamilton and Sainz had been working together to try and rectify this. Before she died, your mum came up with a solution."

"Lan, just tell me," she muttered, picking at the skin around her nails.

This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. "Y/N, you're getting married," he said quickly. "It was your mothers ideal, so there can't be any other solution."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. Married. She was going to be getting married.

"I didn't want this for you, but we have no other choice," he continued. "Please, Y/N, try to understand."

"No, Lan, I understand. I get it," she mumbled, placing her hands in her lap. "I know its something I have to do. Just, tell me, who am I going to be marrying?" But Y/N was pretty sure she already knew.

"Do you remember my old friend, Carlos?"

[veronicaphoenix]

Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Part Three | Words: 10k

Tags & trigger warnings: unresolved to resolved feelings, polyamorous relationship, angst to fluff and comfort, mentions of anxiety, sexual content, including threesome, p in v (protected), oral sex (both receiving), overstimulation, edge play, slight bondage, blindfolding, mentions of spankings, double penetration. (Let me know if I'm missing sth).

Author’s note: here it finally goes :) this is for you all. Thank you for reading and sharing your reactions 💕

INTO THE ABYSS OF BAD HABITS — PART THREE

“Where are you?” My brother’s voice reached my ears through the phone line.

I stopped the absent-minded tracing of letter on the surface of my Costa Coffee cup and furrowed my brow. “What do you mean, ‘where am I’? I’m in England. I told you I’d be here until—”

“I know you’re in England, smartass,” he retorted. He was likely in his office, settling into his morning routine in Los Angeles, while it was mid-afternoon in the UK. “I mean, where exactly? I got a call from Noah twenty minutes ago. He’s freaking out because you’re nowhere to be found and you’re not answering his calls or messages.” 

“Oh.”

Noah had indeed tried reaching me several times since morning, calling and texting and then joining the iMessage group where Oliver had also added his fair dose of worried and then angry messages. I should have said something, I realized now, at least to reassure them that nothing had happened —besides getting fucked by both of them and feeling very sore—. 

The memories from last night flooded back and I tightened my grip on the cup of hot chocolate, tuning out the noise of the people around me. 

When I left the hotel that morning, I walked far from it hoping a change of scenery might clear my head and provide some clarity on what I’d done and its implications for my relationships with Noah and Oliver. But even after skipping lunch for a coffee at Starbucks, then trying my luck with a hot chocolate at Costa, nothing seemed to help.    

I was doomed, and my brother’s call was the last thing I needed.

Jack called my name repeatedly until he had to raise his voice, pulling me from my thoughts. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m—I’m just in a café. I was feeling suffocated with all the coming and going between hotels and venues, bus rides and all the work and…”

“Did something happen?”

“No,” I replied too quickly, knowing he’d detect the evasion.  

I could almost envision his raised eyebrow on the other end of the line. 

 “You slept with him again, didn’t you?”

“Jack, that’s none of your business.”

“I know, but you’re my sister and your well-being is, in fact, my business. I know something is up by the way Noah was speaking, and there was some Brit losing his mind in the background, too. What is this all about?”

“Jack, trust me, you don’t want to know.”

There was a silence coming from his side and my cheeks started burning. I glanced around nervously, feeling as thought every eye in the café was on me.

Jack’s sigh reached my end. 

“Listen, baby sis, whatever you’ve done, you need to fix it. This situation with Noah has been going on long enough, and you two are lying to each other,” he acknowledged. “If there’s a third party involved… Well, I don’t know. That’s your business but sort it out. Don’t bury your head in the sand. That’s not like you. You’ve always been the one preaching all that shit about talking about your feelings and communication being so important. Don’t shy away from it now. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed, and don’t be afraid of what might happen. You know you can always call me, whenever.”

I was the one rising an eyebrow now.

“How much has Noah told you?”

Jack chuckled.

“Just talk to them.”

Oh. 

There it was again. 

Them. 

I wondered if leaving had been a mistake, after all. 

Not long after my conversation with Jack, I returned to the hotel. 

As I stepped into the room, I was met with a potent blend of sex and masculinity that engulfed my senses. 

The bed was still unmade, a reminder of the recent sinful activities. I noticed the ‘do not disturb’ sign still hanging outside the door and decided to leave it be, my fingers tingling with the weight of my growing anxiety.  

Every time I looked towards the tousled sheets, vivid and colorful memories flooded my mind. I could see myself on top of Oliver, Noah behind me, the three of us drowning in a sea of collective groans, screams, and wails of pleasure. 

 I could also see their slumbering forms occupying each side of the bed. 

 To divert my mind, I looked for something else to do. I needed to sort out my things, indulge in a hot shower, maybe eat something or have another coffee. Instead, my eyes fell upon the lingerie set, neatly folded, and placed on the desk next to the TV remote. 

Which one of them took the time to gather the garments from the floor and fold them so meticulously?

My heart fluttered at the tender gesture, adding another drop of confusion to my ongoing crisis.  

I made a beeline for the shower. Noah’s and Oliver’s scent still lingered on my skin, and the love bites and hickeys wouldn’t leave me for a few days. I had no other choice but take my brother’s advice and pull myself together. 

After a grueling day spent replaying the events of the previous night and a near-anxiety attack in the confines of my hotel bathroom, I decided I had to talk to them. Hiding and pretending none of it had happened would only lead to further complications and would strain my relationship with Noah and Oliver to the point of ruining everything. I couldn’t afford to let it fester and seep into their professional lives. I would not let that happen. 

An hour slipped away while I debated when it would be the best time to approach them. 

Should I text them? Send a message on the iMessage group? Or should I just talk to them face to face? To one of them first or to both at the same time? 

By the time I resolved that this was something that needed to be talked to face to face and I gathered the courage to admit my mistake, evening had descended, and everybody was already at the venue where the bands were playing that night.

I was still unsure of where this would go. I’d had the entire day to think about my feelings and, well, I was still a mess. The only certainty I held onto was that I didn’t want to lose any of them, so I was willing to do whatever they said, whether it was keeping everything in professional terms, remain friends, or… 

Taking a deep breath, I watched as the Nicks and Jolly descended from the stage, their faces beaming with sweat and satisfaction. Jolly squeezed my shoulder as he passed by. In return I sent a faint smile his way. 

Moments later, Noah appeared, descending the metal steps clad in black pants and a tank top. His eyes briefly widened as he caught sight of me. He paused, the towel in his hand frozen mid-motion as he registered my presence. Then, without a word, he continued past me, following the same path as the rest of the band.  

“Noah,” I called out, a tinge of desperation in my voice. But amidst the hustle and bustle of the stage preparation for BMTH, my plea seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

Noah stopped, half-turning towards me. His gaze was cold, and he was angry. That much I could tell. 

I couldn’t fuck it up anymore, so the last thing left for me to do was to be honest. 

“I got scared,” I said, the words catching in my throat.  

“Scared?” He echoed, his tone sharp.

If I nodded, it was lost on me because his dark, penetrating gaze made me freeze on the spot, and when he drew nearer, my heart thundered in my chest.  

“No, you don’t get to tell me that you got scared,” he retorted, barely inches away from me, his voice low and intense. His scent enveloped me: he smelled just the same as last night, except for the missing addition of my own sweat and the magical residual scent of sex.  

I wanted him again. I wanted him covered in sweat from the heat of our intimacy, of our entwined bodies. 

He towered over me, his presence overwhelming, making me feel tiny and inconsequential.

“I was the one scared,” he admitted, his voice laced with pain and fury. “I was scared every time I fucked you in my bed and I found you looking at me with those beautiful fucking eyes. I was scared because I knew I was falling in hard. I was terrified,” he emphasized, the last word dripping with raw emotion. “Then you slept with Oliver. When I got to know, I was on the verge of nightmares. I was terrified at the thought that I might have lost you. Then you told me all those things, and yet, I decided to give you what you wanted even though it scared the shit out of me. It scared me to hell to think of what it would do to me —to us— if we crossed that line with Oliver. And yet again, we did. And then this morning you were gone. You were not there by my side when you made me promise not to leave. So no, you don’t get to tell me you were scared after you got fucked by two men who fucking adore you!” 

My throat constricted, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. 

Instinctively, my hand reached out towards him, but Noah recoiled, stepping back with a shake of his head. Not a single strand of hair moved from its place on his forehead due to the layer of sweat covering every inch of this tall, muscular frame. 

“You wanted honesty? There it is,” he continued, this time his voice low and composed. He dropped the towel to the floor, as if he was… giving up. “You were right to demand that from me, but you should have done the same in return.” 

And yet, I had left him before the sun rose, just as he did with me in that moment, stepping back with his brown eyes locked on mine until he couldn’t stand my gaze any longer and he turned away, rushing out the corner and disappearing from my sight. 

I realized then the severity of my actions. It had taken me years to get Noah to open up, and just when I had managed to get him to, to unwrap another layer of him, I had turned my back on him. 

He had all the right to be furious, to hate me, to never want to see me again.

I just didn’t think I could take it because, with each passing second, my feelings for him were becoming clearer. What I had been feeling for months was more than just platonic adoration. 

Waves of anxiety engulfed me. Some of the staff members, having caught up in the intense exchange, cast various glances my way as I stood there alone, drowning in my own misery. Some of their looks were pitiful, others were dripping with disgust. 

With a dry throat and some tears streaming down my cheeks, I hid in the nearest restroom and in a feeble attempt to regain my composure. I told myself that there was a way to get Noah back, that we could be mended and we could move past this. 

But another voice in my head told me that I had fucked up beyond repair; that I hadn’t just fucked up a wonderful relationship with two wonderful men; I had also hurt them, and that knowledge tore my insides apart. 

I didn’t recognize myself.

Why had I acted the way I did? Why hadn’t I stayed? 

I had always been the one to push others to improve their communication skills. I hated unresolved tension and not having a clear idea of what I felt and what others felt around me. It was something that consistently plunged me into anxiety, so why had I chosen this path? 

Desperation seized me. 

Fifteen minutes later, after washing my face and trying to move the hair away from my face, I headed to the green room. 

Though greeted with nods and briefs hugs from the people crowding the room, my focus was on one individual. 

My stomach knotted at the sight of Oliver’s eyes on me, the look on his green orbs not much distant from the one Noah had had mere moments ago. Swallowing hard, I walked to him, ignoring some lighthearted joke Mat attempted to engage me in. He must have sensed my unease, not from my lack of response, but from the weight of Oliver’s stare as he stood in my path.  

His bandmates had known him for than I did, and it was clear that they knew when to shut their mouths and redirect their gazes away. 

Perhaps I should have felt terrified, but terrified had led me to ruin one of the best nights of my life, so no, I wouldn’t let it happen again. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

I would need more than a minute to say everything I wanted to say, though.   

Instead of replying, he eyed me for two seconds, twirling the Red Bull can in his hand before addressing the room at large. 

“Guys, can you give us some privacy?”

In another circumstance, I might have felt embarrassed by the sudden attention, knowing that everyone present was likely speculating about why Oliver wanted to be alone with me in the green room and we both had those long faces on. However, after the events of last night, I found myself beyond the capacity for embarrassment. 

“We’re going on stage in ten minutes,” Lee interjected. I could feel his gaze boring into my back while he sent a warning directed at Oliver. 

“Got it,” Oliver replied, his tone firm.  

It took the others a full minute to gather their stuff and vacate the room, some muttering under their breath as they left. 

Taking a deep breath, I met Oliver’s gaze head-on, steeling myself.

“I fucked up," I began, watching him closely for his reaction. The weight of my words sank in as I tried to get my shit together after my failed attempt at sorting things out with Noah earlier. 

I waited for his reply with my nerves eating me alive.

“You fucked up by having sex with me and Noah or by leaving in the morning?”

“By leaving in the morning. I should have stayed. I just… I panicked.”

Oliver narrowed his green eyes at me, a mix of frustration and something else flickering across his face. 

“I can understand that,” he conceded, his tone softening slightly, “but then you bailed on us and disappeared the entire day. What are we supposed to think?” 

Standing up straight, he moved away from the cheap white IKEA table he had been leaning on, circling me before disposing of the can in a nearby black bin. 

Yeah, I should've stayed and talked to them instead of running away, but what was done, was done. Now I had to find a way to fix it on my own. 

“Noah doesn’t want to talk to me," I said, feeling like a whiny little girl for being denied a lollipop.

“I’m not sure I want to talk to you either,” Oliver replied bluntly. His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My panic momentarily increased until he continued talking. "I’m torn between that or bending you over that table and fucking you hard and fast after giving you a good spanking.”

I froze for a beat, my cheeks flaming. Closing my eyes, I dropped my shoulders and released the air I’d been holding. 

“I don’t need that right now. I need to talk to you and Noah before I make it worse.”

“Yes, obviously. This is not going to work if there’s no communication”

This.

I bit my lip, only to get chided by Oliver. “Don’t do that. You’ll bruise yourself.” 

“I know time is not on our side now,” I continued, “but is there anywhere we can meet to… talk? The three of us?” 

Oliver hummed in thought. 

“Considering we need to hop on the tour bus early tomorrow, I suggest you get some good sleep tonight and we talk when we reach the hotel in London after lunch.”

I nodded again. I was defeated, so I would just do whatever they said. I just wanted to fix things. 

With my eyes on the floor, I startled when I felt Oliver’s fingers on my cheek. He was eyeing me from under his eyelashes, a tiny furrow between his eyebrows. 

“Are you sure you just want to talk?”

How could I tell him that every fiber of my body was screaming to be touched again by both their hands, by their fingers, their mouths…? 

Maybe I didn’t need to. Soon enough, he was smirking knowingly, and he pulled gently at my lower lip with his thumb.

“That’s what I thought. But I’m not touching you again until you’re honest with me and Noah, so take the time you need to think. Whatever it is, I’ll respect your decision.”

“Will you?” I couldn’t help but ask, uncertainty coloring my tone. 

 It took him a moment to respond. 

“Hell, no. You think you’re the only one terrified, doll?” he countered with a tilt of his head. “That makes threeof us. I’ve been thinking about you since before I knew you were coming to Europe with Noah and the band. I just assumed that whatever you had with Noah was restricted to the two of you even if you weren’t dating. But then you came back and you reached me with that pretty smile and you shared so much of yourself with me… and then, to make it worse, you let me touch you… and I knew I was doomed because I’d never get enough of you.”

“Oliver, I—” I began, my voice shaking, my vision getting blurry. 

“No crying, come on,” he admonished. “You’re a big girl. You took both of us so well last night,” he reminded me, a flash of lust crossing his eyes. “You can manage this. We’ll get through it the three of us together, wherever it takes us, even if it’s on different paths.”

“I’m not sure I want us to go on different paths…” I confessed quietly, surprising not only him but myself. 

He sighed, seeming relieved. 

“That’s why I said to get a good night’s sleep and think about it. I’ll let Noah know we’ll be talking tomorrow as we reach London, okay?”

I swallowed my tears and nodded. 

When I asked Oliver if I could travel with him in BMTH’s tour bus the next morning, of course he readily agreed. But what I didn’t expect was Noah’s unexpected appearance at seven in the morning on the same bus, seeking me out. He wasn’t as pissed as he had been when we talked right after Bad Omen’s show the night before, but he was definitely not happy that I was evading the band’s tour bus—evading him—.

I was still tired. Exhausted. Drained from a sleepless night. Despite Oliver’s assurances that things would be sorted out, I was scared that Noah wouldn’t accept it, that he would never be okay with a relationship between the three of us, and that he would never forgive me.

That’s why when he appeared on BMTH’s bus, I simply sank onto the sofa when he instructed me to sit, and I let him settle next to me, his thigh and arm brushing mine. I was ready for the worst.  

“I might be pissed at you,” he started saying, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around,” he stated. His gaze had softened as he looked at me, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his almond-shaped orbs. Our faces were barely inches away from each other. The fact that he smelled so good wasn’t helping the chaos going on in my head. “Or is it that you don’t want me?”

I frowned. 

“You know I do,” I assured him. How could I ever stop wanting him? His brown eyes would always held me captive.  

I considered that, if I got both of them, if I was just lucky enough, I would have those beautiful brown eyes and those mesmerizing green orbs gazing adoringly at me every day. Could I ask for more after that?

“I just made this whole situation so uncomfortable that I don’t know how to behave around you anymore,” I admitted, the weight of my mistakes heavy on my shoulders.

His hand found mine on my thigh. Noah clasped his fingers around mine in a comforting gesture. 

“I’ll tell you how: be a good girl. I’m angry at you, but it’s nothing that won’t be solved after we talk with Oli and you… get punished.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his thin lips. 

I could only sigh and sink myself deeper onto the seat. What did that even mean?

“Come back to our bus,” he said. When I took a while to answer, his grip on my hand tightened and he pleaded, “please?”

How am I supposed to resist the puppy eyes? 

“All right,” I relented.

I stood up, only to be met with Oliver’s figure standing not far from us, frame leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“We should have hired another bus, huh?”

Noah raised an eyebrow and after a couple of seconds snorted, shaking his head as he placed a hand at my back, nudging me forward.

“One for the three of us,” Oliver mused, his eyes eyeing my casual outfit and lingering on my chest for a little longer with a suggestive glint, as if he could see through. “Just imagine how much fun we would have had on our way to the big city.” 

I looked between him and Noah, blinking. I was missing something there, some understanding between the two of them that I was not a part of. 

It was at that moment, with the chill of the January morning creeping in through the cracks of the bus and the look the boys shared with each other that I realized that maybe, very maybe, I had been wrong all along, but… could there really be a chance that... things would work out between Noah, Oliver, and me?

Ignoring the racing beat of my heart and the wave of relief and joy that suddenly seeped through me, with a newly found bravery I said, “May I remind you that despite the distraction I’m being, you’re here to work, both of you?” I wanted to sound rational, and I was, but of course they found it amusing.  

“You can remind us later,” Oliver said, leaning over me to peck me on the cheek. 

 “Get going,” Noah indicated, his tone firm yet affectionate. “I’ll be there in a minute. Nick and Matt are playing Elden Ring. Tell them to hand over the controllers.”

I hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two of them. Then Noah put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and squeezed, both their eyes on me, as if trying to send a reassurance to the apprehension taking hold of every nerve on my body. 

Not long after 2pm, we arrived in London, its iconic skyline piercing the sky much like the needle of anticipation jabbing at my insides as I awaited the moment of being alone with Oliver and Noah in a hotel room again. 

Our stay in the city was scheduled for three days. Under normal circumstances, I would have been looking forward to my free time to explore the city’s most wonderful streets and charming corners. However, other than the work-related stuff, nothing was going as planned, starting with the fact that I found myself not dreading to explore the city at all. My thoughts were consumed by the desire to explore something else —two men’s tattooed bodies, the seas of their skin, every imperfection and scar… 

I followed the Bad Omens’ crew into the lobby of the InterContinental next to the O2 Arena, pulling at my suitcase with one hand and typing a couple of texts to my brother while Matt handled the check-in at the reception desk. I waited for him to get the hotel card keys and hand mine, but he never approached me. 

I looked at him, confusion all over my face as I slid my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and saw him the rest of the guys head to the elevators on the left side of the lobby.    

I was about to call out to him when I noticed that Noah was still beside me, a few steps behind me. 

“Where’s my room key?” I asked.

Noah raised a hand, displaying a card. 

Despite his towering height, with the backpack slung over his shoulders, I always thought he resembled a little kid.    

“Oliver wants us to share a room,” he informed me evenly.

“What?” I sputtered, taken aback. 

Oliver and the rest of the band were not there yet. They had an interview in some radio station and the bus had dropped them off at the location before reaching the hotel, so they wouldn’t be checking in until later. 

“We’ll talk there”, Noah clarified. “If you want to have a room for yourself after that we’ll make sure you get one. It’s not a big deal.”

Truth be told, I hoped I didn’t have to get one. I dreaded sleeping between their warm bodies again, perhaps indefinitely. I knew that I was dreaming too much, but it was all I could cling to while I waited for the talk. 

During the elevator ride, I buried myself in my phone again, ignoring Noah’s presence on the other side and trying my damnest hard to block memories from last year’s tour when Noah had nearly fucked me against the elevator walls in some hotel in Las Vegas before we could make it to his hotel room. 

When the door of the suite opened after Noah swiped Oliver’s card on the reader, I gasped at the dimensions of the room. We were welcomed by a spacious common area, complete with a sofa, a dining table, and a massive TV that we were not going to use. Passing through white French doors, we were met with the bedroom. The pièce de resistance? The king-sized bed positioned in front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Thames. All I could suddenly think about was… probably the same Noah was thinking as our eyes met after they’d landed on the huge bed. 

I could have felt embarrassed. Instead, somehow, I managed to offer him a sweet smile that he reciprocated. 

In silence, we began to unpack, though I refrained from unpacking too much, considering that the veredict of our current situation was still to be decided. 

Noah retrieved some of his electronics from his backpack and returned from the common area to find me standing by the large windows in the bedroom, looking down at the river.  

“Why don’t you take a nap?” He suggested, his eyes betraying his concern. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping properly.” 

I sighed. “No, I haven’t.”

“Sleep,” he urged gently.

“Are you staying?” I inquired, looking in his eyes in need of reassurance. 

“Yes.” Of course, his eyes said.

We stared at each other. When the emotions grew too big, I removed the distance between us and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

He hugged me back, sinking his face in the crook of my neck, and the gesture felt like a soothing balm. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry or strip him off his clothes. 

It must have been the same for him because I felt him tensing after the hug went on for too long. When he pulled away, he adjusted his pants before I managed to take a quick look at the spot. Guilty.

He urged me to rest for a while again. Oliver wouldn’t take long, he said. 

As sleep claimed me, I found solace in the thought of waking up to both of them in the room.  

Their voices reached my dreams, coaxing me awake. 

I stirred in the bed, stretching my muscles before lifting my head from the comfortable pillows and looking over my shoulder, towards the origin of the sound. The doors to the bedroom were slightly ajar, and I could see their silhouettes through the open space. Noah was seated at the table with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands while Oliver leaned in close, practically with his ass on the table as he talked to Noah, his thigh very close to the hand Noah was holding the cup of coffee with. Oliver had another one in his hand. They spoke slowly, softly, as if they were lifelong confidants. I lingered in the quiet, watching them, taking advantage of the fact that they hadn't noticed I was awake. I was captivated by the way Oliver would occasionally smile at him, and how Noah's eyes would sparkle. 

I sat up in bed as a surge of warmth flooded my senses. Before revealing myself, I hurried to the bathroom on the opposite side of the bedroom.

When I emerged, their voices had died away, and I could hear them moving about the room.  

With hesitant steps, I opened the French doors, my eyes falling first on one man and then on the other. 

"Hi," I said in a slurred voice. 

Oliver was pouring hot water from the kettle into another cup and Noah was hanging one of his winter jackets in the wardrobe by the entrance.

“Hi there, sleeping beauty,” Oliver greeted. 

I accepted the cup of tea he offered and thanked him with a shy smile as I brought the cup to my lips, making sure it wasn’t too hot. Lemon tea.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked with a frown, getting closer to lift my chin with two fingers and scrutinize my face. “Your cheeks are flushed.” 

“It must have been the heating in the room,” I explained, gesturing towards the bedroom. 

The answer satisfied him for he nodded, his features relaxing. 

“Do you want to sit down?” He asked.

I instantly shook my head. 

“I will if I need to, but I rather stand while I sort this out,” I said. Both of them shared a look and locked their gazes with me a second after. “I don’t want to drag it out any longer,” I said, gulping down the next sip of the tea.

“Alright,” Oliver did sit down on the sofa, facing me. 

Noah took a seat next to him. 

Great. Now it feels like I’m back at uni, about to start my thesis defense. 

While Oliver reclined comfortably against the sofa cushions, his arm casually draped over the sofa’s back, he nearly touched Noah, who was leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, hands clasped together. 

Green and brown eyes were fixed intently on me. 

I moistened my lips and hesitated for a moment before speaking. I didn’t know where to start, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I steadied myself against the TV furniture.  

“I left because I didn’t want to,” I began.

Of course my answer elicited raised eyebrows from both.

“What I mean to say is…” I averted my gaze momentarily, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as good as I did when I woke up,” I explained. “Despite… the ache between my legs, I was sure that I wanted that every next morning, and I realized it wasn’t right. I couldn’t be having such thoughts. This,” I gestured between me and them, “is not normal.” 

I waited for them to interject, but they didn’t. Their silence encouraging me to press on.

“After our night together, I thought about everything else that happened before that, and a voice in my head told me that it had all been a mistake: sleeping with you,” I said to Oliver. His features morphed into ones of pain and then, defeat, “and then dragging you,” I said to Noah, “into this without having sorted out first what was going on between us. I didn’t want to fuck up any of our relationships; the friendship between you two, and the one I had with each of you. On top of that, we’re in the middle of a tour and I can’t help but feel that I’m a burden and a stupid girl for dragging both of you into this mess. And then…”

“Then, what?” Noah pressed; his eyes suddenly alight. He could sense what I was about to get into. He could sense it very well, and instead of the expression I had expected from him, —the look of fear—, he seemed to be… excited?

“Then I focused on what I was feeling, on what I feel and…” I took a deep breath, gathering the courage. “I want you both. I’m sorry for what this means, but I don’t want to lie or hide it. After I took on your offer of sleeping with you, I thought that once it was done, nothing would change, or that whatever pleasure I was seeking would be satisfied, that we would have fun… but it wasn’t just that, and things did change. I had all day to think and to come to terms with my feelings. After spending the night with you, I can safely say that I want more. Not just sex. I want more of you, of both of you. Anything you want to give me. I’ll take everything, the good and the bad. I just… need you like I never thought I would, and I’m sorry for it.”

As I finished my confession and realized how much I had needed to hear my own voice say it, I couldn’t bear to meet their eyes. The pounding of my heart drowned out any other sound.  

There was a minute of silence that stretched painfully, each passing second amplifying my discomfort. I wished the ground would swallow me whole. That was the most excruciating minute of my life. 

“First of all, fuck normal,” Oliver said. “Second, yes, this is a mess, but I fucking love this mess if it means I get to have you at the end of the day. I want you vocal and naked,” his words were a firm statement. “That doesn’t seem too hard to me, does it?” His gaze shifted to Noah, the question also directed at him. “I also told you last night that my feelings for you have been more than just those of a friend since a while now. Did you hurt me by sleeping with me and Noah and leaving in the morning? Yes, you did. Do I resent you for it? No. We’re here talking things out like fucking mature adults. I only expect you not to make that a habit, otherwise we will have problems. As for everything else concerned,” he shook his head and raised his hands, “I had my time to think about it, too. And I felt fucking fantastic as I fell asleep next to you two.” His eyes landed on Noah again, who wore a mix of guilt and satisfaction on his face. 

“Noah?” I mumbled his name with a sense of urgency and fear. 

“Tell her,” Oliver ordered him, his voice suddenly demanding. “Tell her those damned three words, man. You’ve waited long enough. Don’t make me kick your arse.”

Noah hesitated, his eyes darting from Oliver to the floor then to me and all over again. 

“I love you,” he confessed with his brown eyes boring into mine with a vulnerability that I had never seen before. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I care to admit.”

“He isn’t the only one that does, doll,” Oliver added, his voice resolute yet tender. 

That was not what I had expected at all. 

Yet, I fell to my knees. 

Immediately, Noah and Oliver rose from the sofa, coming to me, hand trying to grab me to get me back up. 

“Hey, hey. What is this?” Oliver asked.

“Come on, no need for…” Noah started saying.

But as I fumbled with the zipper of Noah’s jeans, confusion clouded their expressions as they froze, realization dawning in their eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Noah asked, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty. 

“Showing you how much I love you both, too,” the words slipped from my lips as my hands moved instinctively, pulling down Noah’s jeans and swiftly unbuttoning Oliver’s, “and starting to repay you for my mistake of leaving the bed without talking to you. I won’t do it again, I promise. Just… I want this to work.”

“It will,” Oliver affirmed, “as long as we keep communicating with each other,” confidence dripping from his lips.

Beneath my touch, I could feel him growing aroused, hard. I glanced at Noah from my kneeling position.

“I was worried that I had fucked everything up by making you share me with Oliver,” I told him honestly.

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he replied firmly. “I’m a grown man. I make my own decisions. Besides, I wouldn’t have agreed to share you with anyone unless I was certain that the other person cherished and valued you like a goddess.”

“Noah and I have already talked about it. We’re on board with this, baby,” Oliver added. 

My heart was going to explode, but I felt a pang of frustration at how ahead they were on this and how behind I felt. 

“Why is it that you two always have these talks before the three of us are lone?" I grumbled; my frustration evident. I pulled down Noah’s boxers to free his erection. He let out a sigh of relief.  

“We would’ve had this conversation as a trio in the morning if you hadn’t disappeared,” he interjected, already breathless, his focus wavering.  

He had a point. 

“Moving forward with this,” Oliver continued, “means you’ll accept your punishment tonight. Are you ok with that?”

“Yes, you can punish me,” I replied as I slid down his underwear. Oh, the view in front of me. A sight to behold. “I accept my punishment; you can do whatever you want to and with me as long as I get to have both of you.”

“Those are big words,” Noah remarked. “Are you sure you’ll be able to take it?” His hips pressed forward. I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around his shaft while reaching for Oliver’s cock with my left.  

Their synchronized moans were music to my ears. 

“I can take both of you,” I asserted confidently with my chin up. Hadn’t I proved it already? I tugged at them, drawing two beautiful, restrained groans from both. “So yes, I’m sure.”

“Oh, the kitten is feisty,” Oliver sang. “What should we do about it, Noah?”

“Open your mouth,” Noah instructed to me, his voice husky with desire. “Show us how vocal you’re going to be from now on, and then we’ll decide what to do with you next.”

And that I did. 

Not even ten minutes later, I was cleaning the last remnants of Oliver’s and Noah’s release from the corner of my lips with the back of two fingers, still reeling from the intoxicating taste of them. 

Oliver lay sprawled on the sofa, one hand pressed against his forehead, his pants still unbuttoned.

“My soul has left my body,” he mumbled weakly.

With Oliver’s words hung in the air, I could still feel the ghost of Noah’s hand on the back of my head, his fingers grazing my hair gently before guiding me towards him, whispering a restrained ‘good girl’ as I took him whole. I could still taste Oliver’s release in the back of my throat, accompanied by the memory of his passionate wail as his legs trembled with the intensity of his orgasm. 

I rose from where I’d been kneeling, steadying myself with a hand on the nearest chair as I still felt dizzy. Despite my spinning head, I fought back a laugh at Oliver’s comment. It hadn’t been my intention to leave them drained before the show. 

“I’m not sure how I’m going to perform tonight,” Oliver admitted with a wry smile, his exhaustion evident.

Whoops. 

“That was a killer blowjob, baby,” Noah’s voice cut through the air from the main bedroom of the suite as he emerged from the bathroom, a wet face towel in hand, pants on and glorious cock tucked away. Before heading towards his suitcase, he planted a kiss on my lips. “You okay, man?” he inquired, addressing Oliver over his shoulder. 

“I need a minute,” he replied. 

Turned out he needed five. After pouring myself a glass of juice from a bottle I found on the mini fridge, I offered one to Oliver, who accepted gratefully. Noah declined, opting for water.  

“I should head to the venue,” Noah announced as he checked his phone. “I have a couple of messages from Folio. They’re already there.”

“I should head there, too,” Oliver said, finally standing up. 

“I will stay,” I interjected, earning their attention as they collected their things, “at least for a while. I need to get some work done on the MacBook, but I’ll make sure to be there on time for the shows,” I explained with a smile. 

Oliver nodded and headed towards the bathroom while Noah placed his suitcase on a bench and retrieved the Adidas boots he wore during the show. 

“I’ll see you in an hour, then?” Noah asked. 

“I’ll ask Matt to let me join him in the sound deck.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he replied. 

He approached me, sliding his iPhone into his pocket before stopping right in front of me. I looked up at him, expectantly. He moved the hair away of my face with tender fingers and bent down to kiss me ever so slowly. I couldn’t recall having been kissed by Noah like that ever before, so I melted in his arms. 

I heard him whisper the three magic words against my lips, a hint of shyness in his tone, but he said it nonetheless, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a dream. 

“I love you, too,” I whispered back.

I didn’t miss the way his smile lighted up his face as the withdrew from our embrace. My body instantly missed his touch, his warmth, his scent. 

“Do I look like a just experienced a mind-blowing orgasm?” Oliver asked from the bathroom door, drawing a circle with a finger in the air near his face.

“Yeah, you do,” I responded with a smile and an apologetic expression, “but it just makes you look more delicious. Perfect for the show.” 

He laughed, dropping his head, perhaps feeling a bit shy? 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, standing in front of me. 

He cupped my face and kissed me. His kiss was deeper, more intense, harder than the one I’d just shared with Noah. I loved it just as much, realizing that from that moment onwards I couldn’t bear to live without either of those kisses.

“I love you,” he said. I was going to reply that I did, too, when his words brought a rush of dizziness to my head. “No touching yourself until tonight, are we clear?”

“We haven’t decided yet if we’re letting you come,” Noah added from the door, before stepping out into the hallway.  

“One thing is for sure: you’re in for a few spankings; you’re getting tied up and we’re going to edge you for a good while until we’re satisfied with your punishment for leaving the bed yesterday morning and not talking to us.”

Oh dear.

“Great,” I muttered.

“No rolling your eyes. Be good,” Oliver instructed, pointing a finger at me. 

He grabbed his phone and wallet from the dining table, and with a mischievous grin, he closed the door behind him, disappearing with Noah from my view. 

Two seconds later, I let myself collapse onto the bed, closing my eyes with a smirk of satisfaction on my lips, the whole sentiment etched on my face. Nighttime couldn’t come soon enough.

My heart swelled with pride as I watched them from the center of the arena, Noah’s and Oliver’s figures tiny in the distance but looming on the screens flanking the stage, commanding the attention of thousands and stirring a fervent response. Watching them lead the crowd together in ‘Antivist’ was astonishing. I was so proud of them. Of us, actually. Every time the stage lights fell on them and illuminated them, I felt as if the universe was repeating to me over and over again that those two men were mine, and that I was theirs. 

It was hard to believe that forty-eight hours ago, things had been so different. After the events that my conversation with Noah had led to, I had been flooded with insecurity and fear, and a voice in my head had come very close to making me believe that I had screwed up so badly that I should turn around and go home because never everwould Noah and Oliver give in to being in a polyamorous relationship. This would never work, the voice said, and if part of me believed it would, it was because I had read too many books. 

But look and behold, reality often surpasses fiction. And watching them perform, knowing that they loved me and that we were going to give this a chance, that we were committed to making this work, I felt complete. I was no longer alone to grasp with my conflicted thoughts and emotions. We were three, now. 

These two men, with their music and their love, were mine to cherish and adore.

The rough and complicated start we had endured seemed like a distant memory, and it was just overshadowed by the promise of bright and beautiful days to come. 

By the time the clock struck midnight, I was already a whimpering, trembling mess splayed on the bed. My throat parched, breaths ragged, and legs shaking. I had just been denied my fourth orgasm, and even though I would be lying if I said I hated it, I found myself in a state of overwhelming overstimulation. 

Lost in a haze, I couldn’t even discern which one of them was between my legs. 

As soon as we came back from the venue, I was promptly tied up and blindfolded. Again. Noah and Oliver decided to take turns swapping their place between my legs and working me up, first slowly, gentle laps of their tongues and soft rubs from their fingers inside of me, then fastening their pace, heating me up, driving me to insanity every single time they took me to the edge and then withdrew, leaving me whining their names and crying for release, their wicked laughs the only thing I could hear amidst my own desperation. 

In my delirium, I really couldn’t tell anymore whose tongue was on me, whose teeth was nibling at my pebbled nipples.

“Feeling punished enough, love?” Oliver asked from the foot of the bed, giving himself away after one last flick of his tongue that wasn’t enough to make me fall off the edge. Damn him. 

I couldn’t manage a single word to tell him how I felt. 

Noah’s fingers moved the hair away from my face. Despite wearing a blindfold, I doubted I could have bear to open my eyes. 

“I think that’s enough,” he said. 

“Getting softer, huh?” Oliver teased him.

“Nah, she’s shaking. I don’t want her to pass out on us if we keep going. Let her have it.” 

“You said it.”

Their decision to show mercy on me brought a rush of sensation that threatened to engulf me entirely.  

My climax racked through my body as a hurricane, so violent that my back arched from the mattress. If not for the silky rope binding my wrists to the headboard, I might have pulled Oliver’s hair so hard in my ecstasy that I’d have hurt him. 

With sweet words whispered against my hair, Noah’s praised me, encouraging me through my orgasm, but as I began to descend from my high, he withdrew from the bed. Oliver’s mouth left my swollen center, gifting me two loving kisses on the inside of my right thigh. Then he took a seat beside me on the mattress, replacing Noah. 

“That one was for me,” Oliver said. “Now you’re going to give Noah his.”

I couldn’t grasp my mind at what he meant, but soon enough the hands that had clasped my thighs and kept me grounded on the bed were replaced by Noah’s. I felt him kneeling between my legs again. I gasped. 

“Another one?” I managed to breathe out. My mind had still not come down from my euphoric high and they expected me to…? “I—I don’t think I ca—"

“You will, kitten,” Noah asserted, draping an arm across my hip and stomach to keep me restricted to the mattress. “I know you. You’re going to give me mine.” It was an order. 

Two nights ago, I had damned them both for denying me release in their mouths. Yet now, despite this being a punishment and my exhaustion, their actions felt like a reward. I resolved not to complain, no matter how powerless and lost I felt. 

I remained silent, holding my breath, as Noah slid his slender fingers in, easily navigating through my so embarrassing slickness. He quickly found that sweet spot that I loved having touched, and he started licking me, once, twice, thrice, from my entrance to my clit, drawing circles around my clit until the pleasure was so high that it tore a scream from the depths of my being.  

“Don’t hold back,” I heard Oliver say, his hand on my hair, stroking it.  

For a second, I lost my all sense of rationality. I was sure I was going to pass out with the vibrations from Noah’s voice in my core as he mumbled things and his lips touched my lower lips. My first orgasm cascaded into a second and suddenly, I was enveloped in white, a sharp headache gripping me as I came undone. Fortunately, it passed quickly, and I savored every other second of my long-awaited double release. 

Gradually, Noah’s licks and gentle sucking relented, his hands releasing the grip on me and moving to my thighs, where he started rubbing his palms up and down, trying to soothe down my shaking. Oliver peppered kisses across my chest and sternum, nibbling at my chin with his stubble tickling my skin 

“Kitten?” That was Noah. He kissed the side of my knee. “Are you back with us?” 

As I searched for the answer within my mind, Oliver removed the blindfold and untied me, his touch soothing too as he massaged my wrists and kissed them reverently. Though I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes, a mumble escaped my lips as I shifted my head against the pillow. It would take some time for sensation to return to my body, but I was fully aware of the satisfaction that ran through my veins and straight to my heart, and every other feeling that accompanied it. 

The first night together, I had felt safe and cherished. This time, I felt utterly loved, and despite my mistakes, I was sure that I deserved this. I deserved these two men, and I was willing to give them my best self.  

“Love,” Oliver insisted, his touch soft as he lifted my chin, “open your eyes. Are you alright? Was it too much?” 

“Baby,” before I could muster the answer, Noah settled down on my other side, his unattended erection nudging against my side. He placed his palm on my tummy, and the warmth of his body seeped into my skin.

“I’m fine,” I replied with a smile, peering at both of them through blurry vision. I placed a hand on my forehead. “I got a headrush,” I admitted, “but I’m okay.” 

The worried look on their faces persisted. Oliver glanced down at my still trembling legs. “I’ll get you something to drink before we continue. Let Noah take care of you. I’ll be right back.”

He returned within a minute. I had shifted onto my stomach, and Noah was inspecting the light bruises on my buttocks, his fingers tracing the reddened skin with a frown. 

“Shit, that’s a nasty mark,” Oliver mentioned, eyeing two small spots turning purple on my left cheek. He set a glass of orange juice on the bedside table. “Did we spank you too hard?”

I shook my head. “I bruise too easily. Don’t worry. I enjoyed it.”

“You’ll tell us if we ever go beyond boundaries, right?” Noah pressed.

“Yes, I will.”

“Good girl,” Noah praised. “Have some juice,” he instructed, gesturing towards the glass as he stood up from the bed to position himself next to Oliver. 

Both eyed me with special attention as I sat on the bed and sipped the juice, my body feeling grateful for the light sugar intake. After draining the glass, I licked my lips, and my smirk grew as I noticed how hard his erections were, and both seemed to be pointing straight at me. 

How wonderful that they were mine and mine alone.  

Noah gestured for me to approach him with a finger, his gaze narrowing with anticipation. I crawled on the bed towards him, swaying my hips playfully, enjoying how desired I was. With my hair falling around me, I positioned myself on all fours at the edge of the bed, Noah lifting my chin to capture my lips in a hungry kiss. Meanwhile, Oliver’s hand returned to my backside, caressing it before his fingers slipped between my cheeks, eliciting a moan from me.  

“Would you put them on us?” he asked a few seconds later. 

Noah released me, and suddenly Oliver’s hand was presenting two square silver packages to me. 

Sitting back on my heels, I tore open the first package and rolled the condom down onto Noah’s cock, his posture steady and unwavering, watching my hand’s work as a hawk. I repeated the action with Oliver. The familiarity of the task felt oddly comforting despite it being our first time.  I hoped fervently that this would become a nightly ritual from now on.  

“Ready for us, baby?” 

Instead of answering, I straightened my back and slowly parted my thighs, revealing the warmest, most inviting part of myself to them once more. 

My boys exchanged a glance with a raised eyebrow. In an instant, Noah lifted me up, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist as he wasted no time in nudging my entrance with the head of his dick and in one slow trust filling me up. 

I was still adjusting to the wonderful sensation of Noah being inside of me when Oliver’s hands found their way to my shoulders from behind, his touch gentle as he traced a path down my sides until they settled near Noah’s hands on my butt. 

I felt the tip of his cock against my backside, and his voice softened as he urged me not to tense. It was easy for him to say, yet I was surprised at how easy I welcomed both of them inside of me, as if my own body had been waiting for it since the first time it experienced this hot burst of desire, pleasure, and… love.

Five minutes after, they were moving inside me in perfect synchronization, a relentless rhythm that drove me to the brink of ecstasy and beyond, my breasts rubbing against Noah's inked pecs, my back against Oliver's hard tattooed chest. Their alternating thrusts, a mix of withdrawal and surging in, had me moaning their names repeatedly, making me feel full of ecstasy and wild pleasure. Whenever Noah withdrew in a slow, teasing friction, Oliver would go all the way in. 

This experience was sublime, and I didn’t ever want it to end. 

"I wish I could show you exactly what it feels like to fuck you while Noah fucks you,” Oliver growled into my ear, his words sending shivers down my spine that intensified as he nibbled at my earlobe with his vampire teeth. 

At some point, with Oliver’s mouth nibling at my shoulders, clavicle, and neck, I opened my eyes and reached for Noah’s silver necklace. I could see the restraint in his eyes. I pulled at the accessory and kissed him fiercely for a long minute before releasing him. Then, I turned to Oliver, wrapping my hand around his neck and capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss that ended with me biting his lower plump lip, making him growl like a lion against my mouth and eliciting a laugh from me. 

“Touch yourself,” Noah said. He was close, so close, and Oliver wasn’t far behind. I was dying to feel them both tense and pulsate inside me. I was dying.

Closing my eyes once more, I let my head fall back to rest on Oliver’s shoulder and slid my hand down to my clit. Their arms held me securely while they stood, anchoring me in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure. I squeezed myself around them. When I heard their moans and growls intensify, I knew I had them. 

Joining their cries of release, I followed them down to the depths of bliss.

About twenty minutes later, I was lying in bed again. Only this time I had Oliver and Noah on either side of me, spoiling me and giving me cuddles and kisses. 

After the passionate crescendo we had caused while climaxing, the mood in the room was now quiet, and a lovely silence enveloped us as we looked at each other with our eyes shining and our bodies sated and spent, we felt at heaven.  

Both of their hands roamed up and down my body. Noah's fingers traced delicate lines between my breasts and down to my navel, while Oliver's traced my temple and his lips pressed tender little kisses just below my ear and on my jawline. 

It was just perfect, and the only thing that topped it was the way I sensed Noah and Oliver glance at each other from time to time, as if something new had awakened in them as well. Or maybe it had been there for a while and was finally coming to light. Whatever it was, it was obvious that all three of us were enjoying it, that all three of us were happy and wanted to be there. 

That was all that mattered.

It was past eight in the morning when I stirred from sleep. 

My head was resting on Oliver’s chest, with Noah’s warmth enveloping me from behind, his arm draped over my waist and his palm resting flat against my stomach. The sheets had become a tangled mess at the foot of the bed, leaving our naked bodies exposed in a blissful picture. When I wriggled my feet and they brushed both Noah and Oliver’s legs, I smiled at the sight. 

However, the urge to visit the bathroom was urging me to leave the bed. I could revel in his scene again in just a couple of minutes. 

But as I began to shift away from Noah and Oliver’s embrace, preparing to swing my left leg over Oliver’s broad body, a hand clasped my wrist, halting my movements.  

Turning my head, I saw Oliver, his eyes still closed, his face peaceful in slumber with Noah’s sleepy face now so close to his own. Oliver’s grip tightened on my wrist as I spoke.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I whispered.  

“I’ve heard that before,” he replied, his beautiful green eyes meeting mine as he opened them. “I’m going with you.”

“But…” It shattered my heart to think that he still doubted me; that he still feared that I might not be there if he closed his eyes again and woke up a while later. “I’m not going to leave. I promised,” I reminded him with a serious expression. “I just need to empty my bladder. Just give me a minute?”

“A minute. Then I’m coming in,” he concluded, stretching his arms, I couldn’t help but steal a quick look at his morning naked figure. Glorious. “We have shower sex pending so…”

My eyes quickly went back to his. A smirk played on his lips as his words trailed off. 

That sounded… incredibly appealing and undeniably hot.  

To hell with sleep.  

“Are you sure you’re up for it? Aren’t you tired?” I inquired. With the shows and the sex, both might be beyond exhausted, but a voice in my head said, please don’t be.

“Are you?” chimed in another cheeky voice from the other side of the bed. 

Okay, they were both up and ready. Just my luck. Hell yes.

I hurried into the bathroom with a giggle escaping my lips as I knew that they were both staring at my ass as I ran off from the bed.  

Five minutes later, Oliver pulled me with him inside of the tiled shower. I shivered as the water touched my skin, though it didn't take long to get used to the temperature and I appreciated the feeling of being under the warm water and everything that followed. Oliver's hands took the reins and, with some shampoo in his hands, he began to wash my hair, massaging my scalp and thus earning my first moan of the day. 

"You guys started without me?" Noah asked, walking into the bathroom, and letting himself and his perfectly erect, hard cock be seen. 

"Not really," I replied, reaching out to take his hand and pull him closer to me. Noah greeted me with a good smooch, his cock stroking my lower belly while Oliver's fingers went on to massage my shoulders and a delicious spot just below my neck and at the beginning of my spine. 

Never in my wildest fantasies had I ever imagined I would experience a morning like this, soaking wet all over with two fucking gorgeous men washing my hair, massaging my shoulders, my breasts, and making sure the marks on my ass and other parts of my body from their nibbling the night before were nothing to be alarmed about, treating me to my first orgasm of the morning with Noah's long slender fingers as Oliver's mouth played with my nipples and he gulped down the clean water falling from the shower jet. 

I found that washing and rinsing them also filled me with a tender pleasure. They behaved like two good, but mischievous, children, waiting their turn as I washed their hair and scrubbed their bodies, leaving kisses here and there after rubbing their skin too hard and earning me their beautiful moans, which echoed between the bathroom walls. Their jokes also added to the joy; they took advantage of the fact that they were both fucking tall to make me stand on my tiptoes every time I tried to rub the top of their heads. Then they had the audacity to ask if there was a problem every time I mumbled a curse between my teeth. Whenever I reprimanded one and the other for laughing at me, it only earned me a playful slap on my ass.

Eventually, the space was filled with our casual talks, then laughter, and finally, moaning. 

When they entered me again under the warm spray of the shower, I was sure that I was in love to the hilt with both of them, and that I never wanted to stop hearing their laughter and seeing their smiles in the mornings ever again. 

So, as I tensed around them both and their grunts mixed with my moans, I surrendered to Oliver and Noah. Their fingers tightened on my thighs, where traces of the night before lingered, and I happily followed them into the abyss.

PART 4 + EPILOGUE COMING SOON

Taglist: 

@girlfromrussia-universe | @oro-e-diamanti | @lma1986 | @missduffsblog | @bngurngheart | @winterwinchester | @jilliemiw86 | @sorrowsofsilence | @th4t-em0-k1d | @to-be-written | @thescarlettvvitch | @nonamessblog | @somebodyels3 | @starsomens | @ditto66 | @dominuslunae | @cookiesupplier | @midnight-eternals | @pennysky | @iknownothingpeople | @cncohshit | @ladyveronikawrites | @blackveilomens | @robabankfuckmickeymouse | @kageyasma | @concretedaddy2018 | @silentglassbreak

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb one

Series Summary: Remus has a choice to make: his new boyfriend Sirius or his recently no longer ex girlfriend, Y/N. But when Y/N's world begins crumbling, Remus wants to be there for her. So he makes a decision... Continue dating his boyfriend behind his girlfriend's back.

Blurb Title: Reconnecting on the Train

Pairing: ex!Remus x reader, Remus x Sirius, eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: none

blurb series navigation here

1. Reconnecting on the Train

You sat up as the train pulled into King’s Cross Station. This school year was going to be good, hopefully. You had already taken your NEWTs last year because what else did you have to do in a safehouse but study? So all you had to do was relax this year. You looked out the window, coming face to face with a very tall, plus size redhead and next to her, an equally tall blonde with a bob. They did charades to try and ask if anyone else was in your compartment or the one right next to yours. You weren’t even finished shaking your head before they booked it.

They breathed out sighs of relief as they plopped down on the seats before disappearing the wall between the two compartments so you were one big room. The train benches were arranged to be in a square formation with an opening for the door. 

The blonde with the spiky bob stuck out a hand. “Marlene McKinnon. 7th year.” 

“Y/N L/N. 7th year also.” 

A gasp echoed out. On the other side of James, Sirius froze up. His hand held on tighter to the taller boy next to him. He brought Remus’ hand to his lips, kissing it gently. How dare you show up here of all places? He was the main one to spend countless nights comforting the man when you left him. He had been the one to help put everything back together again and you were coming back to ruin it. 

You felt the train bench shake a little bit as one of the boys on the bench with golden brown hai— “Remus?” 

“Y/N?” 

James went wide-eyed. “Wait, that Y/N…” 

You both dug through your bags, pulling out polaroids sent years ago. Remus had to be sure. You held them up to each other’s faces for comparison. He looked different in only a year. The two of you were definitely the same people in your photos though. You were confused when his expression hardened at confirming it was you. 

“What are you doing here? You stopped writing. For months.” 

“I’m so sorry, babe.” 

Sirius laughed from behind Remus. “That’s it. I’m sorry?”  

You blinked twice, a bit taken aback by the hostility from his friends. “I’ve been a bit busy.” 

“Busy? So the rest of us just don’t have jack shit in our lives?” 

Fiddling with your hands a bit, you sighed. “Remus, can I talk to you alone?” 

“I’m sorry but until I get answers, you have to understand that it’s a little hard for me to just go anywhere with you.” 

“I’m a refugee. The MACUSA sent every new-maj into hiding because of Voldemort. Our schools grabbed us and our families in the middle of the night. We weren’t allowed to contact anyone outside. My family was rushed here because they got attacked. I’ve been separated from everyone else for their safety.” 

“Y/N, are you okay? Are they okay?” Remus’ face softened. 

His chest tightened as you shook your head. Honestly, you’d been putting on a brave face, telling him as much. You wanted to be a rock and a calming presence for your family during this time. And over the months, you’ve made peace with everything that’s happened. You understand it but you don’t feel like you’ve had a chance to be emotional about it. Remus jumped to his feet and pulled you into a hug when the tears started to fall. He rested his head against yours and rocked you back and forth. 

“I wanted to write to you. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I only found out two weeks ago that the UK was taking us in so I just decided to surprise you.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was that bad. Your letters before never…” 

“I know. I tried to keep everything positive for you. I’m sorry if I made you worried.” 

“Stop apologizing. It’s alright. You’re here now. Safe… Y/N, do you want to go to the observation car, calm down a little? No one’s really in there, I promise. I’ll come get you in a moment, okay?” 

You smiled. That’s what you loved about your boyfriend. He was understanding and patient about the lack of letters. You nodded and handed him your stuff. He pointed out the observation car and waited for you to leave his sight before closing the carriage door. 

Remus groaned. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” 

Sirius adamantly shook his head, offended that he would dare suggest that. “You didn’t know. I can’t believe she still thinks you’d be together after she left without a word.” 

“Sirius.” 

“He’s kind of right,” Regulus spoke up. “If I had disappeared for months, how could I possibly expect my partner to not move on?” 

“She’s just not like that. We’ve talked about her friends’ relationships before.” 

“That seems selfish.” 

A lot of the train agreed.

Peter opened up his can of Fizzing Whizbee. “Just break up with her… again.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why? Do you still love her?” 

“No,” Remus answered without hesitation. “Feelings are long gone.” 

“Then why not?” 

“Y/N is fragile right now. Our relationship is her only stability. I feel like if I break up with her right now, it’ll shatter her.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” Sirius said. “I know we haven’t announced ourselves to the school yet but this relationship means something to me. This might sound awful but I don’t care. I don’t care what she’s been through enough to leave you. I had to pick up your heart when she wasn’t there. She can’t just take you from me.” 

“I don’t want to leave you either… Just let me make sure she’s on her feet then we’ll be over. Okay, love?” 

“How long?” 

“When we start the second semester? Is that okay with you?” 

Sirius thought about it for a considerable time. “Fine. Nothing can stop me from kissing you in broom closets, though.” 

Mary put away her crossword puzzles to grab a book instead. “You do know that she’ll want to be our friend, right?” 

Remus nodded. “I’m not saying to not be friends with her. She’ll fit right in here, I know it. I’d like to be friends with her if we can split amicably. Just don’t tell her about Sirius and I, let us break up naturally.” 

“Can do.” 

“Thank you… Love, do you have any rules for me?” 

Sirius thought for a moment. “Can you try not to be intimate with her? Just never initiate it. Kisses are fine, I expect that. You can even flirt. I won’t think anything of it. It’ll be like you and Lily or Mary. But no large gestures. And no calling her love or starshine or sweetheart. Those are my pet names, she’ll have to find her own.”  

The rest of the train ride wasn’t sat in uncomfortable silence but social conversation. You put your headphones back in and pulled out the crochet project you were working on. Your boyfriend looked over at you, tapping your ankle incessantly until you finally looked up and took out your earbuds. 

“Yeah, babe?” 

“Do you want anything from the trolley?” 

“Um, no, I’m good. I’m on a tight budget for now. I’ll just get another water.” You looked down in betrayal when your stomach grumbled.

“Here.” Sirius handed you a to-go bowl filled to the brim with salad. He gave Remus a sandwich filled with basically just meat. A favorite near the full moon. 

“Thank you,” you said with such kindness that he wanted to roll his eyes. You leaned into your boyfriend to exaggerate a whisper. “Your friends are really nice.” 

The train finally stopped at the Hogsmeade Station. You were beginning to buzz with excitement as you sat under the Sorting Hat. Your uniform changed from gray and white to splashes of red and gold as you made your way to a clapping table. A note plopped into your lap halfway through late lunch/early dinner. 

Back to School Party: 1st-4th year in Gryffindor Common Room. 5th-7th in Slytherin. 

When dinner ended, you didn’t want to follow the first years so you went with your train buddies that were in Gryffindor, trusting that you’d eventually find your room.  

“Oh.” 

Marlene and Mary turned to you. “What is it?” 

“My key has the number eleven on it too.” 

The girls ushered you into their, now your, dorm room. The other girls looked at each other as you unpacked in less than fifteen minutes. It was kind of sad and brought them to the reality that while they were worried about Voldemort and war, some people were already living it. 

You sat down on your bed. “So, what do you normally wear for parties?” 

“I don’t know about Ilvermorny but it’s about dressing hot.” 

You looked at your wardrobe. “How long do I have?”

| next blurb here |

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PERMANENT TAGLIST:

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[bubuslutty]

Day 2: I 💜 DILFS

All Parts

pairing: angel/demon fem!reader x 141

word count: 2.2k

tags: semi-canon compliant, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Angel', 3rd person pov, minimal description of appearance, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warning: none

summary: This is day 2 of meeting 141 and Angel starts her assignment, officially.

a/n: can u tell im British when reading? sometimes I accidentally spell words in the American way cuz English is my third language but I swear I live in the UK 😀

It was Saturday, and Angel didn't have to be anywhere. After getting settled in her new home, she woke up excited to start her assignment officially. She stared at her huge wardrobe and at the ridiculous amount of accessories. Hands on her naked hips and hair sticking to her face and neck, she was humming while her cat, Kuromi, was making biscuits on the unmade bed.

“What should I wear today?” She mused out loud, the sunlight coming from her bedroom window warming her semi-wet skin pleasantly. She grabbed a very short jean skirt and held it in front of Kuromi, “What about this?” She asked, laughing.

“You’re right, this is not very grocery shopping friendly.” She nodded, putting the skirt away and grabbed a pair of baggy jeans, underwear and stopped herself before reaching for a bra. Her eyes landed on a cropped t-shirt that fit her like a glove. She grinned while holding the garment in front of her, “Oh, yeah, I’m wearing you today, and no bra.”

Angel giggled, while Kuromi was busy playing with a loose thread she found on the floor.

.

.

.

“Alright, lads, who wants to go to Tesco with me?” Price asked while wearing his wristwatch, already dressed to go out.

“Me!” Gaz exclaimed, looking up from his phone on the couch and running upstairs to get his hoodie and a jacket.

“Ghost, are you going?” Soap asked the man, who was watching a random show on the TV.

“No, are you?” Ghost said, looking over at the man.

“Yeah, I want some snacks. They provided us with old people food before sending us here, no offence, Captain, I want some chocolate and biscuits.” Soap complained, slipping on his jacket, making Ghost chuckle.

“Fuck off, Johnny.” Price said, without looking up from checking his wallet.

“D’you need anything, Simon?” Gaz asked when he walked back down, fixing his hood over his head and checking he had his phone on him.

“No, thanks, Gaz.” Ghost shook his head and shifted his attention back to the TV.

“Alright, if you need anything, call us. Let’s go.” Price said to Ghost who hummed in acknowledgement and the three walked out of the house, closing the door behind them.

“I call dibs on the passenger seat!” Soap quickly said, making Gaz laugh, the two walked towards the car in their driveway before Price’s voice made them look back.

“You’re alright, there?”

Price was standing with the car keys in his hands, looking at his very attractive neighbour, who was frowning down at her phone, standing in front of her door dressed so much more casually than the first time they met.

When Angel heard him, she lifted her head and immediately smiled, “Oh, hi! I’m just trying to get myself an Uber but the app’s acting up.”

“Where are you going? Maybe we can drop you off if it’s on our way...” Price suggested, and completely missed how both Gaz and Soap glanced at each other, smirking.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. But I’m just going to Tesco’s, I need to buy a few things so don’t bother yourself with that, I can try again on the app.” Angel said, sheepishly laughing.

“Oh, we’re going there too!” Soap loudly said, making Gaz grin when Price took a deep breath.

“Yeah, we also need to buy a few things, come with us!” Gaz said, grinning and looking at his Captain then his hot neighbour.

“That would be amazing! if you don’t mind of course.” Angel said, looking at Price and his eyes widened, "Why would I mind? Come on, get in."

When Price unlocked the car, Soap opened the passenger's seat door wide and spread one of his arms, "Please, allow me." He said in an overly posh accent which made Angel laugh.

"Thank you, Johnny." She smiled and got in, buckling herself in.

When everyone buckled in, Price started the car and drove out of the driveway. "Which Tesco's are we going to, by the way?"

"We're going to take the M25 and go to the one outside the area. Is that alright?" Price said, stealing a quick glance at the woman seated next to him.

"Wait, isn't that far? Aren't we in inner London?" Angel frowned, confused.

"No, love. We live in the outer circles, it's only going to take us 20 minutes to get there if there's no traffic." Price said.

"Sorry, first time living here." Angel apologised, feeling sheepish.

"It's alright, you don't have to apologise." Price said, making her smile.

"Sorry to interrupt, but am I dreaming or does your t-shirt say 'I heart DILFS'?" Soap asked, leaning forward from his seat at the back.

Both Gaz and Price seemed to be taken back by the question and also very surprised. Angel glanced down at her t-shirt and smirked, "Yeah, it does."

Right as the words left her mouth, Gaz started laughing and Soap had a stupid grin on his face. "That's an interesting choice of clothing, don't ya think?"

"I bought it as a joke.." Angel said, glancing at Price.

"But do you actually love dilfs? That's the most important question, don't ya think so, Captain?" Soap asked, radiating mirth and mischief.

Price glanced at the rear-view mirror and glared at Soap, who didn't seem to be intimated one bit.

"I don't know, maybe?" Angel shrugged while wearing a grin.

Then Angel felt a little evil all of a sudden, and cleared her throat, "Do you know what a dilf is, John?"

In reality, she wore that t-shirt because it reminded her of John. She knows he doesn't have children, he's not even married, never was for that matter. But in the mortal realm, young humans are fascinating on the Internet. Angel when she's bored, she opens up her laptop and accesses the servers on the planet, and sees what they're up to.

Imagine her surprise when she witnessed young mortals calling older celebrities, both men and women, dilfs and milfs just because they were older and attractive. They often claim the label doesn't necessarily mean the said person is a father or mother. Most of the time, it's just pure vibes, and it's honestly just for shits and giggles.

She bought the t-shirt a while back, before even getting her task force 141 wish assignment, and was surprised to find that John Price, could be in fact, considered a dilf.

John isn't even old, he's 37 and would look so much younger than he actually was if he didn't go through so much stress and difficult work for so many years. Either way, Angel isn't even bothered by his age because at the end of the day, she was older than all of the men, ages combined. But obviously didn't look like it, due to her immortal nature. Her files say she's 25 this time, so there's that.

"How can I not? You learn all sorts of new things when you're around someone like Johnny." He said and heard Soap gasp at the back, offended and demanding what did that mean.

Angel grinned at that and remembered to ask them something. "I have a question; Why did Johnny call you captain?"

"We work together." Price answered while Gaz and Soap were watching them in silence.

"Can I guess what work you do?" Angel grinned. She already knew their occupation, but she had to ask, had to play her cards right, use everything to get closer to them and build a mutual trust between them.

"Alright, guess." Price shrugged.

"Okay, uhm, are you….. Rugby players?!"

All three men seemed surprised at her guess, "Rugby players? Haven't heard that one before." Gaz said.

"I mean Rugby teams have a captain, right?" Angel mused.

"Aye, they do." Soap confirmed.

"And you're all very big and strong, so it's very likely you're part of a rugby team." Angel said proudly, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ah, makes sense." Gaz nodded, grinning. He imagined his team and himself in the field, wearing tight jerseys and shorts, knees muddy and sweating. It would be fun, playing all together in the base against the rookies to encourage teamwork and healthy competitiveness.

"We'd make a killer team, no?" Soap looked at Gaz who nodded.

"We're not a Rugby team." Price chuckled, making Angel's smile drop.

"You're not? What a shame. Well, I only had two guesses, so that only leaves me with one." Angel pouted.

"What is it?" Gaz asked, looking at her cute frown and shiny pink lips.

"Pirates.." She mumbled, glancing at Price who started laughing.

"Pirates? Why?" Soap laughed.

"First of all, you call him captain, and your said captain has a beautiful beard, not to be stereotypical or anything.." Angel explained making Gaz grin.

"My beard?" Price said, running a hand through it.

"You laughed, so I'm going to assume I was wrong." She said, acting slightly frustrated at guessing wrong.

"You do have a beautiful beard, Captain." Soap smirked, reaching at the front to squeeze the man's shoulder.

"If you said, marines, you would still be wrong but still close." Gaz said, making her eyes widen.

"Really?"

"We're in the army, special forces." Price finally said, glancing at the civilian woman next to him.

"Okay, yeah, my guesses were very wrong." Angel blushed, embarrassed.

Now that they revealed their occupation by themselves, she can get to reveal her occupation and make them share their nicknames. She knows that they're only living next to her for work, for random short breaks, away from their families. And she knows they would prefer for her to use their field names, to protect their privacy but also her, as a civilian, to some extent. The only reason they haven't given them to her yet is to not weird her out. But they'll get to it, Angel will make sure of it.

"Are all of you special forces? Even Simon? Speaking of which, is he alright?" Angel asked and watched them tense up a bit and internally smirked, they're protective.

"What do you mean is he alright?" Soap asked, raising a brow. He thinks she's talking about his mask, maybe thinks she sees Simon as weird. Even though that's ridiculous, he was wearing a surgical mask when she first saw him, and normal people would probably assume he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on. But she knows Ghost's team is used to him wearing his skull mask more often than not, and probably forgot he wasn't wearing one that day.

How adorable are they?

"All of you are out except him." Angel said, voice brimming with innocence and genuine concern.

She noticed how the tension left their bodies and looked at Price for explanation.

"He's alright, just wanted to rest at home. And to answer your question, yes we're all in special forces, we're just here for work." Price said, making her nod.

"What do you do for a living?" Gaz asked, changing the subject.

"I'm a sex therapist and PhD student." She said.

"That's amazing! What's your field of research?" Price asked, glancing at her and back at the road.

"Psychology." Angel revealed, smiling proudly.

The funny thing about realising wishes, is that lying becomes so easy. You get given a scenario to follow, a character to study and become. And then manage to slowly become that character to the point where your reactions are genuine while your mind is fully aware that you're not who you say you are. It's an act, and a really good one at that.

You're even incapable of feeling guilty over lying to humans. Because Wish angels are gifted with powers that allow them to achieve almost anything and everything. I lied about knowing the Royal family? The Wish Office will temporarily tamper with history, memory and fate and manage to make you exist in the mind of the royals, as if they always knew you. It's an incredible power, completely able to create and destroy anything and everything.

But luckily, Wish angels have no interest to mess up with the humans beyond realising their wishes. They can tamper with time and memory, but after their assignment is completed, everything will return to normal, with the exception of the realised wish.

And so far, Angel hasn't felt the need to use any of her powers on the men. And she doesn't think she will any time soon.

"That's very impressive, the dedication you have is admirable." Gaz said and Johnny agreed, nodding.

Angel flushed at the compliment, "I'm just trying my best, but thank you either way."

The car was enveloped in comfortable silence, the big superstore now in view when Soap spoke.

"Why do you prefer Angel instead of Angela?"

Angel smiled, "There was a girl who had the same name as me back in primary school, and since then, I was always called Angel to differentiate us. It feels natural to be called Angel, instead of Angela. That's what I prefer at least."

"Well, in that case call me Soap." Johnny said, grinning.

"Soap.. It's nice, you have to tell me the story behind it one day." She smiled.

"Maybe." Soap winked.

"Call me Gaz instead of Kyle, please." Gaz added.

"Of course, Gaz is a pretty name." Angel turned to look at the man who flushed.

"What about you, Captain?" Angel turned to Price as he parked the car in the huge parking lot in front of Tesco.

"You can just call me John." He said, smiling at her.

"And Simon?"

"Simon will tell you his own nickname."

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay

[cwritesforfun]

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader: Neighbors

Y/N = Your Name

**I do not own Ted Lasso characters or the scene used in bold & italics or the New York, New York song by Frank Sinatra**

TW: Talking about Anxiety

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

Moving to Richmond (Greater London, UK) from NYC (USA) was scary because you had never considered moving abroad until your boss asked if you could work in the overseas branch for 1 year. You said yes like the people-pleasing employee you are. You applied, got a visa, and then soon enough, you were in Richmond. There was actually way more to it. It was a horrid process.

You moved into a nicer neighborhood to a one-bedroom flat near a tube station. Your work was paying for your place to live, so you didn’t care. It did seem posher than you would’ve chosen for yourself though. Your mom would tell you to find a man here because she wants you to marry well and she thinks you’ve been single for way too long.

You met your first neighbor in the hallway one night when you were getting back from a concert and he tried hitting on you. You could tell he was drunk, so you told him no. You would say yes if he was sober and meant it. Also if you knew him well before he asked you out. You liked being friends with guys before dating them. He was hot though, so you made sure to note that one of your neighbors was hot.

The next week, you turned on the TV and your hot neighbor was playing football or as you called it soccer. You then stalked his social media and found his name was Jamie Tartt. He seemed like an arrogant player from what you could tell online.

One of your job's perks was attending an AFC Richmond game with coworkers where you saw Jamie Tartt play. He was actually really good. It's good to see that his attitude online could be backed up with such talent. You had a pint or two because your work was paying the tab. You screamed loudly at the win! You got to go to the press conference to get quotes for your work and you made eye contact with Jamie who you could tell kind of recognized you. You said nothing and looked away. You didn't want anyone thinking there was something happening between you two when there was not. After the press conference, you grab drinks at a pub nearby before heading back to your place.

When you make it back to the apartment complex, you slowly walk up the stairs and you hear, "I knew I recognized you! You're my new neighbor!" You look to your side and see Jamie smiling widely. You smile back and say, "Yes, I am. You also hit on me when you were drunk. I said no." He replies, "That was for the best, trust me. I was feeling like rubbish that night." You laugh and he asks, "Has somebody had a little too much to drink tonight? You're taking these stairs slowly." You answer, "1, that's none of your business, but 2, my work paid for half of the drinks I had today. So long answer, yes." He smiles and says, "I need your job then. That sounds ace!" You both walk up the stairs together before parting ways.

The next day, you hear someone knock on your door and Jaime is standing there happily with a bag in his hands. He exclaims, "Hey Y/N, I brought you a housewarming present. I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed a few different things. I hope you like it.” You invite him inside, he hands over the gift, and you open it. It's a small succulent, a small chocolate cake, and beer. You laugh and smile. This was actually really thoughtful of him. You say, "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I think I'll have some of the cake tonight after dinner." He asks, "Ooh what's for dinner tonight?" You answer, "I made chicken, veggies, and rice. It's simple but good." He replies, "That sounds really good. I'll leave you to your dinner and your presents." Without thinking, you ask, "Would you like to stay for dinner?" He asks, "Really?" You nod and he agrees to stay. You both sit at the table talking for a few hours until he starts yawning. You exchange numbers before he heads out.

You and Jamie end up texting every day. You also start eating dinner together once a week then slowly it becomes two times a week…and then it’s every night he is in town. He travels a lot for games and with friends. You alternate who cooks and whose place you eat at. It’s a nice routine.

You even go out with him to a pub one night and you both get drunk, which means you both think you rocked the karaoke. You woke up the next morning to videos of your karaoke with Jaime everywhere on the internet. Lots of people ask what you are to Jaime in his comments. You’re glad that your social media accounts are all private. Your coworkers somehow have seen the karaoke video and freak out that you know Jamie Tartt. You don't end up seeing him that week, but you still text. He makes sure you’re okay with the karaoke video being public and checks in to make sure it’s not ruining your life to which you tell him it is not.

It's a Monday morning when you get a text from Jaime asking if you could have dinner together at your place instead of his. You agree immediately. You're excited to see him again no matter the change in plan. You missed his bubbly presence and his kind soul.

You finish work early, clean your place, and then start making dinner. You manage to finish it before Jamie arrives so you keep it covered then sit on your couch to scroll on your phone until he gets here. You see AFC Richmond lost their away game over the weekend. Oh no:(

You hear a knock on your door and you open it to reveal a visibly shaken-up Jaime. He walks in and you follow him. You wait for him to speak and he says, "I'm so I'm so tired. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I wash me hair but I don't use any conditioner. And it's like what's the fu**ing point? I feel like the guy in the Red Bull commercial who's pushing the big rock up the hill, but but he's lost his wings. Y/N, I feel like I feel like I've lost my wings." You open your arms and he hugs you tightly. You rub his back as he cries into your shoulder. You sit on the couch as he cries onto you for a while. He then confides in you about his worries about his dad and you talk about anxiety for a while. He also talks about the constant losses that his team has had. You have your fair share of anxiety about life and you even have daily medication for it. Jaime calms down enough to eat plain rice, which you're proud of him for. You know how anxiety messes with your stomach. He thanks you before heading out.

Jaime comes over the next night crying again and he falls asleep in your lap on the couch. You wake him up after 30 minutes because supposedly 30 minutes is the time for a good nap and you don't want him to wake up achy. You did like it though. He looked peaceful as he slept and he was so cute all flustered from his sleep.

You don't see him the next few nights, but he asks if you can be at the game over the weekend. You let him know that you already have tickets from your work and he likes the message.

At the game, you cheer loudly for AFC Richmond and you get more drinks. You and your friends go buy merch... you buy a Jaime Tartt jersey because you can't help yourself. You want to show your support for your neighbor. He’s not just your neighbor now. He's one of your closest friends... And well, you like him a lot. He's cute, kind, and a really great guy.

You get a text at halftime from Jaime leaving you instructions on how to meet some girl named Keeley Jones who will bring you down to the locker rooms to see him after. He explains that he needs you after this game. You stop drinking alcohol and switch to water at that point. This sounds serious.

After the game which AFC Richmond lost, you navigate around drunk blokes and fans of all sizes until you see a blond woman who matches the description from Jaime. You ask, "Hi excuse me, are you Keeley Jones?" The blond woman turns, does a double take, and says, "Yes, who are you? Do I know you?” You answer, "Oh sorry, right, I am Y/N. Jaime texted me that I was supposed to meet you here." She replies, "Wow, you're fit darling. I should’ve expected he would find a babe. Follow me. We'll talk on the way." You have so many questions… You follow her on the field and off to the tunnels. She asks, "So, how do you know Jaime?" You answer, "I am his neighbor. How do you know Jaime?" She answers, "Ah I'm his ex, but don't worry about that. I am happily with Roy and happily the team's PR consultant." You reply, "That's so cool. I bet you get a lot of crazy stories from the job." She laughs and says, "Oh I do. Do you like Jaime?" You answer, "Yeah, but don't tell him. I haven't even told him that." She replies, "Oh why not? I mean, you're wearing his jersey and he invited you down to the lockers to see him. It seems serious." You reply, "We're just really close and I've been there for him recently. I don’t want to ruin what we have. My coworkers were buying jerseys tonight and I didn't want to feel left out. I have to support my neighbor. He deserves it." She replies, "I like you. We're going to be friends after this. Ok, so this is the locker room. They might be naked, so let me enter first. Then, I'll let you know when it's safe. Oh and enter your number into my phone. We have to have a double date soon." You enter your phone and wait in the hallway. You sigh. Keeley is a lot omg... she seems cool. Ex-turned-team consultant?! You also said you liked Jaime out loud for the first time ever. That felt good to get off your chest to someone.

The locker room door swings open and Keeley sticks her out saying, "All clear! The boys have clothes on." You follow her inside and everyone stares at you. You wave and say, "Hi I'm Y/N." The coach who you've learned tonight during the game is named Ted Lasso excitedly says, "Ooh another Americano! Ain't that cool?" You smile and say, "I was born and raised in New York City." Ted Lasso sings, "I want to be a part of it New York!" You sing back, "These vagabond shoes Are longing to stray Right through the very heart of it New York, New York!" A man standing near Ted who you can assume is Beard says, "Don't get Ted started. He’ll keep singing. Y/N, I think you sing better than that karaoke video of you." You start laughing and you say, "I blame the alcohol for how I sounded in that...Hey wait, where is Jaime?" Everyone shrugs and Ted says, "I think he's showering." Oh... so now you just have to stand in the locker room ... great... Everyone introduces themselves first and you shake a lot of hands. Ted offers you to wait in his office with Roy, Keeley, and whoever wants to talk. You take up his offer because you feel awkward standing in the locker room with everyone surrounding you.

You sit in the seat Beard offers you and talk with some of them. Roy slides next to you and asks, "How do you do it?" You ask, "Do what?" He answers, "Put up with Jaime every day. We hear your name every day, so I assume you hang out all the time." Keeley says, "It's true. It's Y/N this and Y/N that. But hey Roy, get this, she likes the bloke." Roy sighs and asks, "And what you doin' that for? You could do better. Keeley did." Keeley slaps him and laughs. You say, "I think Jaime is kind. Did you know he brought me a housewarming gift? It was so sweet. He checks in on me as much as I check in on him, which it’s nice to have someone there for me. We also both have lots of anxiety in life. He's very hug-able if you count that. He also makes me feel understood and I think that's important." You hear, "You're going to make me cry." You turn and see Jaime standing there. He opens his arms and you rush into his arms to hug him. You hear a laugh from him and he asks, "When did you get this jersey?" You pull back from the hug, do a turn, and answer, "Tonight! I had to support you! Do you like it?" He smiles and says, "Yeah I think you should never take it off... Ready to head out?" You nod, say your goodbyes, and leave hand in hand with Jaime.

Jaime opens the passenger seat for you and you slide inside. He gets in and asks if you're up for a drive to which you agree. You pick up food on the way and make it to a pretty park with an overlook. He rolls down the windows, turns the car off, and says, "I figured we'd just park here and eat. I don't want to go back to my place yet. I did want to see you and bring you here though... I come here a lot to think or run. You can use it for thinking and running too. It's even prettier during the day." You reply, "I bet it is. I saw you play and you were great. I'm sorry you lost, but I'm happy that I got to see the game. I like seeing you play." He smiles and says, "Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me that you showed up for me then and now. I appreciate you... I heard what you said 'bout me to Keeley and Roy too. It was sweet of you to say. I feel the same about you. You make me feel understood too." You ask, "What happened tonight? The text at halftime really worried me." He explains how he invited his dad who didn't show up again then tells you about other pressures in his life. You can tell he's trying not to fully break down and you reach out to hold his hand as he talks. He gladly takes it and you rub circles on the back of his hand.

You both end up eating your dinners before heading back to your apartments. Before parting ways, you ask, "Hey uh Jaime, do you wanna sleepover? I know hugs make me feel better when I'm down and cuddles are like one long hug." He laughs and answers, "Yeah, let me just put my stuff up and change. I'll be right over." You nod and head into your place. You wash your face, change into pajamas, and get water for beside your bed. You make a glass of water and set it on the other side too.

You hear a knock and you let Jaime in. He asks, "What no jersey?" You answer, "It was getting stinky. I sweat so much in it tonight. I'm sorry." He laughs. He follows you to your bedroom and you both climb on the bed. He says, "Thanks for asking me to sleep over. I wasn’t ready to say bye to you just yet.” You reply, "I wasn't ready to say good bye to you either. I like being around you." He replies, "I like being around you ... and I just like you." You reply, "I like you too." He asks, "Really?" You answer, "You've always been my favorite AFC Richmond player too." He smiles and says, "Thank you. I'm glad or this would be more awkward." You laugh and say, "You're so cute. I hope you know that." He replies, "My followers on Instagram agree." You playfully hit him on the shoulder and say, "I bet they do. I thought you were hot when I saw your Instagram, but I also thought you were a player." He replies, "Only a football player, love." You laugh and he moves closer to you. He moves a strand of your hair out of your face and asks, "So you think I'm hot?" You answer, “Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” He asks, “May I kiss ya?” You answer, “Yeah.”

…

I visited Richmond omg and had to write an imagine about someone in Ted Lasso haha

[istherewifiinhell]

okay. heres what were all here for. tell me why the fuck im supposed to suck the dick of these uk comics

[ID: A man holding up an aged looking paper, with a medieval style drawing of a giant metal fire breathing man. He leans forward serious asking his son "... Did it look like this?" END]

marveltf story line, MAN OF IRON, 9-12 in the UK, or.... 33-34 in the us. alright lol do whatever i guess. first published in 1985

new vibe same procedure: Script: Steve Parkouse art: John Ridgeway (9-10) Mike Collins (11-12) Colours: Joise Fermin (9-10) Gina Hart (11-12) Nel Yomtov (US)* Letters: Richard Starkings Editor: Sheila Cranna and these caps are from the UK classics idw book so: Original Series Edits by Shelia Cranna and Ian Rimmer, editorial notes and assistance by James Roberts, Collection Edits by Justin Eisinger and Alonzo Simon, Collection Design by Shawn Lee (<- hey i know his work from turtles!)

*so the uk comics were part in colour and part B&W, to save costs... including the american reissues? printing costs i guess. but when reprinted in collected books, they would get the full colour treatment. whats not clear to me is WHO did those colours, its not listed anywhere i can find. ill simply have to assume its the same artists... and hope im not discrediting anyone....

AND ALSO the last page in this reprint apparently uses the US comic page, and i have a cap of that last page, so. Yomtov's in here too..... tf franchise the way u treat ur sacred texts breaks my turtles fan heart.

and lastly! the keen eyed may notice, we are back to toy accurate art, the character model designs haven't and wont make their way over until much later, I'm told.

well with all that perfectly convoluted business out of the way, lets explore what tfs is like across the pond.

[ID: The same man, Roy, driving as he thinks to himself "What kind of bozo would want to bomb the castle? The Saxon Liberation Front? The mind boggles…" END]

[spluttering laugh] so the humours a little different!

[ID: The boy, Sammy, climbing a tree, hand outstretched reaching for the arrow he lost. Standing, with his in the canopy is Jazz. Sammy yells in fear. END]

OKAY. so the vibes are little different

[ID: Caption Box: And the apparition was fearful, being a Man of Iron of great height and girth, seeming unheedful of quarrel, spear or sword…" The robot from the illustration, clearly transformer, but blockier, more retro scifi, standing in the middle of a medieval battle, men with chain-mail and swords looking at him with trepidation. Caption Box: The Man of Iron forded the stream at Eldric's Cross, making great strides for the abbey… and some brave souls followed, though none dared come too close…" Two of the fighters shown following him, a body shot with an arrow lays at the other side of the river. END]

damn okay. so the vibes are ALOT DIFFERENT

(no 10) sammy dreams

[ID: Sammy stands on a house rooftop, in his PJ's, looking down at the cobble street, where a seeker in alt mode rests. END]

[ID: Dark and moody art, a barely seen figure towers in the shadows over the residential houses. From a higher angle, its shown to be Mirage, he stands taking up the entire street, backlit and casting shadows. END]

WHAT THE FUCK. that is terrifying

(something about beautiful black inked art + toy model makes them so CREATURE)

[ID: Roy speaks to a man in army uniform. Roy: How large? Soldier: Well… ahh…at a rough estimate? About the size of an ocean-going liner. Roy: Whaat? Roy with a hand to his head in dismay: Well, for god's sake what is it? Solider: We don't know. I've called in extra men and we're going to excavate… END]

somethings! buried under the castle... gee well one wonders what it might be

[ID: Close on Jazz's alt mode dashboard, its filled with lights and screen of alien language. Hes saying: But I'm not a stranger, Sammy. Deep down, you know… don't you? You've been wanting an adventure all your life… Besides. I have something to tell you. Sammy looking doubtful. Jazz continues: Something really important. Sammy has a hand on Jazz's open door: Why not just sit for a while in the front seat? Just pretend you're driving… END]

JAZZ THATS KIDNAPPING BUD....

really get a kick outta this note in the printed version

[ID: REMEMBER: NEVER ACCEPT LIFTS FROM STRANGERS! TO BE CONTINUED! END]

(no 11)

[ID: Jazz speaks to Sammy on the road, a blue and white F1 car pulling up. "My name is unpronounceable in your language… so just call me Jazz! And that's Mirage right behind us!" Jazz takes a exit to a low road, a black camper truck driving alongside. "This is where we rendezvous with Trailbreaker. All set Sammy?" All three driving along, Sammy responds "Sure thing Jazz!" END]

[guitar riff] THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN. im so glad all my good friends are here.

[ID: An fiery explosion engulfing Trailbreaker with a "Whaamf!". Wheels coming off, glass shattering, the truck top blowing to bits. Trailbreaker veering off road, a trail of fire and parts behind him calls out "Jazz! I'm hit... I'm hit BAD! END]

TRAILBREAKER NOOOO. who could have seen this coming...

[ID: Jazz narrowing swerving a missile. Exploding behind him, and speedlines trail him, and a wreath in flame around him. The colours are almost delicate, and a reflective glow in his paint. END]

wha. this just looks so cool.... what the hell....

[ID: Bluesteak, smiling speaking to comms "Autobot Bluestreak to patrol leader +++ Just brushed something off your tail, Jazz+++ try to be more careful in future, hmmm? Bluestreak out+" END]

being a cunt in the work slack. king

[ID: Jazz in profile, lit under the starry night sky, soft line-less colours defining the planes of his head in blue greys, and pitch black. To Sammy he says "Not really. It's a shuttlecraft… now stand back…" To comms "Autobot Jazz To Autobot leader+++ Approaching shuttle with Surveillance Subject+++ Request permission to board+++" END]

Wuh. Huh. Jazz u look so fucking cool right now?? And handsome.....

okay whats going on back at the castle (no 12)

[ID: The army soldier half sitting on a desk, holding a phone to his ear, the rotary cradle held resting on his leg. He's saying "IT's not just a question of scale, sir. We simply cannot identify it. END]

whys he kinda... apparently this style of uniform is called temperate barrack dress?? that answers none of my questions im just kinda... whyd u draw him like that tho...

[ID: A seeker, drawn in blues, walking between the ruins of the castle. Off panel someone says "It just seemed to appear from nowhere!" END]

bigfooting it up... AT A CASTLE. oh lads. im done for [blah blah he telePORTS and thats skywarps power but hes blue so WHO is it. dont worry abt it man. dont matter. they apparently change in the various times its been coloured, which is objectively funny imho. keep em guessing]

[ID: Moody and still illustrations of a robot identical to the Man of Iron in stasis, plugged into a bed of sorts. The ship around him is dark but for strips of coloured computer like lights in the walls and floor. Caption boxes narrate: Deep beneath the Autobots feet, in a sealed chamber, a special Autobot lay waiting… He was navigator, warrior and guardian of Autobot destiny… In his long, slow, machine world, a million years were as fleeting seconds. Human history had passed over him. Small inter panels. Mid on the Guardian: Locked in his dormant brain was the location of the planet Cybertron. He waited only to be re-activated, re-integrated with his mission… Restored to life. Close on the Guardian: His attendant was no more, the link between them severed. Laying in profile, just barely defined in the pitch black: Alone in the darkness he patiently beamed his signal. The same pattern of impulses… Waiting. END]

What the actual fuck (its even more somberly dramatic than just that)

[ID: Sammy, from a distance, staring at the castle. Caption Box: Autumn came, leaves fell. Sammy was a year older and a year wiser. He never saw Jazz again… Sammy asleep in bed, moonlight pouring through his paneled window. "But on clear, sharp nights, when stars glittered like needles and the night winds rattled his window… Then he slept a fitful, fearful sleep…" Sammy sleeping, with his dreams projected above him. "And the Man of Iron walked once more through his dreams." The End]

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

um well. okay! thats. fucking crazy. and this is the only tf comic this dude ever did. okay... can u tell he was from the dr who comics...... it ALSO means this doesnt actually speak at all for what the rest of tfuk will be like. which is damn funny. LIKE WOW! THAT WAS CRAZY. anyways.

[mediumtires]

I'm still not over this. How in the world Christian is sharing this and expect us to be okay ? HOW??

I'm also living for Fed to be there as their chaperon 😂 he cannot let these menaces free or chaos will prevail.

It got me thinking now, is Fred going to tease the hell out of Toto at each TP meetings now?

i would like to formally apologise i don’t understand how no one else is losing their mind about this? i am so about to lose my mind?

you’re telling me christian horner and toto wolff shared a flight to melbourne (loooooong flight from the uk) and christian just causally drops that bomb on us like it’s something they do all the time?

i swear the most compelling thing about them is that THEY LIKE EACH OTHER. all the yelling and the one upping and the creating fake scenarios for netflix, the comments, the quotes they feed the press, the mind games, "i don't have to kiss his arse" etc etc etc but at the end of the day they’ve been around the paddock together for over a decade. in 2014/15/16/17/18 they hung around each other ALL THE TIME.

and then 2021 happened and gLoVeS wErE oFf but even after that— may i remind everyone of preseason testing 2022?

this was literally only A FEW WEEKS after that commission meeting where masi got fired relocated. weeks after toto wore a black turtleneck like he’d just buried the w12. and they were acting like giggling schoolgirls twirling their hair and having a laff? are you joking? are you telling me these two whiny conceited big headed team bosses can just forgive and forget?

YES AND ITS BECAUSE THEY LIKE EACH OTHER. toto probably acknowledged what happened in ad wasn’t christian’s fault and christian’s crush on toto is big enough that he could move past merc protesting max's win and getting his bestie michael fired relocated.

and now you’re telling me they’re sharing flights. sure sure. probably because they’re really environmentally conscious. maybe even an accidental booking on a commercial flight. two personal assistants going “whoopsie didn’t check the passenger list sorry”. three if you count in fred but he and toto probably booked that flight together. surely they weren’t plane pooling a private chartered flight. cough cough surely not. these three old rich men (billionaire toto wolff) would totally sit first class on a commercial flight, 17 hours among commoners, before one of the hardest races of the season, one of them with a broken back, one of them blind, and one of them with a tummy ache. these three very rich men would totally suck it up and bite the bullet to make sure their carbon footprints stay as low as possible.

HELL no i don’t believe it for a second. they plane pooled. BECAUSE THEYRE FRIENDS.

christian is the longest serving tp along with franz tost but toto has been around since 2011ish when he first started at williams. they've known each other for A LONG TIME. no other team principals have been around as consistently and continuously as these two. sure some of the current tps have been around the paddock in other roles. and yet with the exception of toto and fred, none of them are "friends".

i am convinced they started hanging out. they must have because they were the two youngest tps around and everyone else was boring (except for maurizio my beloved). they build a rapport. some kind of undefinable bond, not friends, not colleagues, rivals maybe, but there's respect. even if christian won't ever admit to it ever. maybe they don't go to dinner together but I'm convinced they text occasionally, anything between "happy birthday" and "fuck you for buying out my engineer i actually needed that one". also. christian is ceo of a top level performing technology business (lmao) and if there's one thing toto knows it's management and finance. like I cannot imagine they have never had conversations about that. they're both passionate about racing. sure they probably have like hugeeee differences in opinions about certain things but it's because they're both willing to do whatever it takes for their team to win. they must respect that in the other. (their opinions are probably not even that different if we think about it. probably scarily similar actually. this is the problem, they are very much two sides of the same coin. they want their team to win and they’re willing to do pretty much anything to get there. they look at each other and don’t like what they see because they’re literally mirror images.) (THEYRE TOO SIMILAR)

IN CONCLUSION. they like each other. they may not be friends by common definition but THEY ARE SOMETHING. they share flights I rest my case.

(also yes obviously fred makes fun of them all the time it’s how he’s coded)

[polarisbibliotheque]

About the time a guy was being creepy to me on a professional setting and my gut feeling told me "GET OUT NOW"

Ok, so hi! This post has to do with a reblog recently here in my blog, on one of my fics regarding Dante and Vergil with an s/o suffering from being hit on without their consent. I write Devil May Cry fanfiction and that was my way of coping with a CREEP being, well, a creep.

Who would've known, fanfic is therapeutical

My answer got so big, I decided to make a separate post about it - and I'm talking like this because, if this gets out the DMC sphere and other people read it, they'll understand the fandom talk a little bit. This is not just for the fandom, but everyone out there.

Including men. All of us are prone to being targets of creeps - even if I'll be telling about my experience as a woman, take this advice to your heart NO MATTER your gender.

When this episode happened in my life, I was 27 y/o, I think...? I got pushed into such a stupid corner by this guy who kept messaging me with "work related" stuff... And my family wasn't validating my "this is weird" feeling.

So... What happened?

(TW: I mention the words "rape" and "sexual abuse" but none of that has happened. It was a red flag and I want to talk about avoiding it like the plague and how people might dismiss your gut feeling when something is wrong. I write with brutal honesty, curse words and don't censor anything, because I'm here to tell people how it is not curating content to go viral on clean ~family friendly~ social media. This is honest advice I'd give someone else, so it's just a heads up. I'm a little jaded with all the censoring of "forbidden words" when you have to discuss serious subjects like this nowadays hahahaha)

First context, I'm a Lawyer. Hi. I know it doesn't sound like it Second context, I'm from Latin America. Hi again!

Well, in my country, we have to vote every couple of years for the National Lawyer Association President and Vice-President (for my USA people, it's like the BAR association for Lawyers - meaning only lawyers who have passed the BAR and are, indeed, full-fledged to the association and with a lawyer permit can vote). I hate it, but it is what it is, I have to vote every time for one of those posh speaking clowns or else.

This much older guy stopped me at the entrance to the voting building to do some political propaganda of one of the candidates. Expected. They weren't the ones I was gonna vote 'cause their agenda didn't fit what I wanted for the Association - nevertheless, I smiled and was polite. Guy wouldn't shut up, but that's a lawyer thing. Kept being polite, dismissed him kindly and went inside to vote.

As I came back, guy is there and stops me. I had called my mom to give me a ride home - by that time, I had been broke and without a job for 2 years up until that point, trying to get back into the ~lawyer business~ and recover from a very bad burnout, so paying a ride back home was a big no. I had my phone on my hand and kept chatting because, you know, networking. You never know.

Now, mind you. I'm about to celebrate my 30th birthday this year, but people seriously think I'm underage wherever I go. I have to literally show them my credentials and ID so they can believe a single word I say. This guy, must've been around his 50s or something - and I look like a teen or, at best, 20 years old. I graduated when I was 22, so that's the most he could've imagined I was.

As we're talking, dude is flexing his career so hard I start to do the same. He says he has known the President and influential people in politics (back then, far-right government, so red flag already waving in the horizon), he has an office both here and in New York and Miami, he has worked with the FBI (we're in Latin America, the USA stuff is a flex for far-right people). I say I have worked as the Labor Lawyer in a huge worldwide known multinational company, coordinated with people in the USA and UK, had around 100 cases to manage monthly and keep the company in order when the directors were not around.

Guy is impressed and asks for my contact on LinkedIn. I'm down for it, I'm looking for a job and he could be one hell of a way to get back on business. Dude mentions he's in digital law and, heck, I wanted so bad to get into digital law! It was like he was put in my way by the angels to help me get back on my feet!

He asks for my resumé and my cellphone number, so he can have me in his office to have a cup of coffee. I am soaring by now. "That's it!!" I think "That's my ticket back to being a lawyer, to having my own money, to breaking the cycle of unemployment and having my career back!" - so I do it! I give him my number!

hello, workaholic aunt here speaking, my career was everything to me, I'd do everything for it

After I got back home, told my mom everything, and everyone was so happy. That's when he started sending me messages - asking for my address so he could send me some lawyer magazines and such... Even though he had asked when we were talking before and I changed the subject. I didn't give him of course, but instead sent him my resumé.

So, next day he asks me about that coffee and I said we can make it happen... Even if he got my name wrong. I have a pretty exotic name in whatever country I go, so it's a common mistake, known to happen, no one can pronounce my name right if I don't teach them how to, so yeah. I'm willing to gloss over that.

I'm assuming he read my resumé, saw how smart, capable and hardworking I am, and wants to talk business. Wants to offer me a job. I'm super ready. I'm taking my business clothes out of the closet, I'm cleaning my high heel black boots, I'm checking my references and vocabulary so I don't screw up. Guy sends a message saying he wants to take me out for lunch.

Red flag. My instincts flare up and I'm just staring at the screen. I start reviewing everything. I mean... Business lunches are ok, right? I had lunches with my manager and director plenty of times back in the day and it never got weird. So... Why was I feeling weird now...?

Guy says we can go out for lunch and then back at his office so he can show me around. I was like "hmmm... ok? shouldn't be weird. this is normal." but nevertheless I went to check with my mom and my sister.

Both said it was fine. I was feeling weird because it's a guy and me and I shouldn't be feeling uneasy - it's my social anxiety/workplace trauma talking. It's the opportunity of a lifetime. I shouldn't screw up.

I keep talking to him. I ask where we should meet up for this lunch and he tells me to give him my address, so he could pick me up and we can go to "a nice place to have lunch" (his words, not mine).

Red flags are dancing around my head. I keep thinking "have I lead him on something????" and going mad. What was I wearing? Only work clothes, that's all - suit pants, black high heel boots, dark silk shirt and only a nude lipstick so my lips wouldn't get chapped. My shirt didn't even show cleavage.

It's ridiculous how I feel this is a thing I should add 'cause heaven forbid the cleavage

What about what I've said? Did I accidentally flirt?? 'Cause that's been known to happen - I'm a clueless ace who can't for the life of me notice when people are flirting or not or notice when people think I'm flirting with them. And usually when they are not flirting or being attractive, that's when the magic happens for me! So... What gives?! Did I do something wrong, that sent the wrong message?

I mean, I was nice, yes. But you're supposed to be nice to people. I'm not gonna be rude just because most guys can't keep it in their pants.

I go over the messages. I didn't do anything strictly not business like. I'm very good at that. I have only worked responding to men as bosses in my life, had four male bosses before him, all different ages, marital status, star signs, backgrounds, lives. The best colleagues and co-workers I used to spend hours having coffee and laughing with were men. So I know how to keep professional and not mixing things up. It wasn't a slip up from my side.

Well, then there's always the chance I was going crazy and overreacting, soooo... I go over to my mom and sister. They think it's weird, yes, but they do think that's exactly what's going on: I'm overreacting and my social anxiety/workplace trauma is blocking me from pursuing this opportunity that can help my career - and make me have a salary again so I can help at home.

Ok. I though up and go back to talking to him. I tell him fine but I'll go to the place myself, so he can tell me where he's thinking about having lunch. Guy tells me nothing and keeps insisting I give him my address and he will give me a ride so we can "get to know each other better".

My GODS I've never felt so uncomfortable. Not even when I had to stay ONLY with my boss working until 1 am, only the two of us in the company building, every light out except the one in the room we were in, him being around 15 years older than me and very confident, with the two of us having one of the best work chemistry I had in my LIFE.

He could've done ANYTHING to me, but we only talked strictly work. We were tired, he waited for my mom to pick me up at 1 am outside so nothing bad would happen to me, both of us under an umbrella, he apologized to my mom for having me stay at work so late and then went back home to his wife and kid. I NEVER, at ANY moment felt unsafe around him. He was my mentor, he was my boss, he was a good colleague and even somewhat of a friend.

So why on EARTH was I feeling SO UNCOMFORTABLE with this guy I had only met ONCE face to face in my life?

I start to voice my concerns. My mom and my sister think I'm only saying that because I don't want to go back to work. That I want to throw my career away because I can't control my anxiety and my feelings. We fight a couple of times and a couple of days. My mom tells my aunt about it. My aunt goes full FBI and does a background check on this dude.

That's when she told my mom some things weren't adding up. His LinkedIn profile was a little too weird and he had no ties whatsoever with the elected President of the Lawyer Association - was he really someone in their team for propaganda? Nevertheless, he did have an office and did work with digital law, both here and in the USA. I shouldn't let this opportunity slip.

I got so mad. SO MAD. To the point my sister decided to ask her boyfriend for his opinion on all of it and he was like "hey... your sister is kinda right. guy wouldn't offer to take ME to a nice restaurant to have lunch and go to his office later for a coffee, would he...? I mean, this never happened to me" - and sis' boyfriend is on the business meetings and negotiations/selling part of the spectrum. He knows what he's talking about.

So now I finally have a man validating my concerns.

I take the decision to shut the whole thing down. I go "very well, I will NOT meet him, I will NOT maintain contact with him, he's treating me like a whore he picked up on the street". At this point, I am FUCKING FUMING. But still, my sister and mom gave him the benefit of the doubt and made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

So I decided to marinate him for a while.

I should note that all his messages were sent close or around midnight, not at working hours. And I only answered at working hours. Since I was taking a while to respond, my dude just goes like, and I kid you not, "ooooh she's not answering, she's ignoring me, I don't like that *sad emoji*" LIKE A FUCKING 13 YEAR OLD (no offense, 13 y/o peoples, but this dude is a FULL GROWN ASS MAN).

I am offended, I am flabbergasted and I wish I could suplex him to oblivion.

I show my mom the message. She just stares at me in awe. She FINALLY is like "yeah, ok, this isn't very professional". ALL THIS TIME, I never really told her what I was thinking and what was really worrying me. And then I break her the news that, what I'm really afraid of, is that this guy is going to rape me in his car. Or he's going to drive me somewhere I can't fight or scream and then he'll rape me. Whatever the scenario, it ended up with me being raped and I was scared. SO. FUCKING. SCARED.

My mom goes into Sphinx mode - that's when she doesn't answer and doesn't even look at me and just ~thinks~. It's a brutal reality she doesn't like and I don't like it either, I mean, it's my safety we're talking about here.

I shut down the guy completely. I tell him there's a family emergency and I couldn't continue to give him any attention nor I could go out for that lunch and I couldn't talk anymore. He SUDDENLY goes cold and "I am sorry if any of my messages seemed inconvenient. Do answer when you have the time so we can make an appointment." And that's it. No more messages. He's done in my book.

My mom tells my aunt. Aunt goes Sherlock Holmes mode this time and, lo and behold, they find an website of this guy's office. My mom is shocked at how 90's internet it looks for a guy who works with digital law. She then recognizes the address of the office but the doesn't remember of any office building in that street - so she Googles it.

His "office" is actually a residential building - meaning, it was his home address. She shows it to me and I want to cry - out of rage, shame, fear, sadness. I go like "yeah, this is the place he wanted me to go, to his home. What was he going to do to me there, huh?" - and I think the answer is pretty obvious.

Later, speaking to my sister, she's like "I dunno why you're so mad" and I'm like "WELL MISS I just got PICKED UP LIKE A WHORE outside of an OFFICIAL EVENT for the NATIONAL LAWYER ASSOCIATION while I was DRESSED UP PROFESSIONALLY and looking for PROFESSIONAL opportunities and I COULD HAVE BEEN RAPED. I think I have all the right in the FUCKING WORLD to be FUMING."

That's when we diverged some more. She just said like "hey that's how the world works: women are treated like whores - you weren't the first one to have this happen to you and you won't be the last. What are you gonna do about it? Get over it."

Oh. Boy. I looked at my sister's eyes. I saw her just staring at me weirdly. A storm was approaching. The skies darkened. Bury the Light started playing in the background. Vergil's doppelgänger was standing behind me like an angel of death. (All DMC references for my non-DMC peoples)

"Well. I wanna have power. So much fucking power in this world that no one ever even thinks about treating me like that again. So much power they will fear standing in front of me and saying those words - they will look into my eyes and shut up. So much power I will never be afraid to walk on my own again and I will never have to doubt my feelings when I'm feeling unsafe because some lowlife pitiful little shit decided I should be a whore to satisfy him. I want to have power so I will never be this helpless again."

Cue in my sister just sitting there with butter in the slice of bread in her hand, staring at me like "wtf man... do you need a hug...?" and me doing a dramatic exit back to my room to, well... Write the fanfic in question.

(For my DMC creatures: I never even thought of Vergil when I said all of this, I just noted that thought later in my diary and reading it a couple of days later I was like "omg I have become my worst enemy, fuck you Verge" because I kid you not, I used to hate this man with all the fibers of my being - hence where my longfic Nemesis came from. I realized I lived long enough to become my worst enemy - and maybe I hated him because Vergil made me look at the part of myself I didn't like and didn't want to admit existed *I'm laughing while writing this, I do find it weirdly amusing*)

DMC things aside, this WHOLE episode made me feel so frustrated. I never had anyone to validate me, only people doubting me or asking me if I lead him on, or what was I wearing, or if I smiled too much, if I was being too nice, if I said something inappropriate, and so on. I had to get it all off my chest and I thought maybe, juuuust maybe, Dante and Vergil would've been more supportive regarding that.

Because, you know, they know trauma and they are protective as fuck. They can have all the red flags and mental issues in this world, but I don't think they would EVER dismiss their partner - especially a woman - feeling unsafe and fearing being abused or raped. In order to trust, you have to give the person and opportunity and room to open up to you without judgements - and I do think they aren't very judgy people.

I mean, they are demons, for fuck's sake. They can't judge anything especially Vergil

Also, I don't blame my mom nor my sister (even if I got really mad at her). In the end, both of them wanted what was best for me, they thought it was an opportunity and wanted me to get my career back. Truth is, no woman knows how to act when this happens. And they didn't know how to act as well. They didn't want to think of the worst: just like I was doubting myself and my own feelings, they were doubting theirs as well. We ALL had to be validated by a man to admit something was wrong and we weren't hysterical.

Ok, ok, storytime over. But I felt like sharing this because people, you are ALWAYS valid in your concerns - and there's no clothing, no smile, no attitude, no NOTHING that JUSTIFIES abuse. If you're abused or feeling like someone wants to take advantage of you, especially sexually, YOUR FEELINGS AND FEARS ARE VALID. Don't shrug it off or water it down just because people are saying you're overreacting - if I had listened to everyone around me instead of my gut feeling that something was REALLY wrong, only the gods know what would've happened. But I'll tell ya, it probably wouldn't have been good for me.

At best, I'd be mad this guy would want to pick me up like a whore and I'd have to turn him down and take a ride home. At worst, he would've raped me - in his car, at the "restaurant", at his "office". We don't know, but I didn't want to "give luck to bad luck" as we say where I live.

I didn't have support, so I wrote a story to feel supported by the fictional characters I look up to - I wished SO bad I was dating someone, especially a man, who'd tell me he'd go through hell and back to keep me safe and wouldn't allow anyone to hurt me and validate my feelings. Someone who would make me feel safe and I wouldn't have to only rely on myself.

cue in V saying he too wanted to be loved and protected, I tell you, all this time I thought I hated Vergil when I had only found my nemesis in a mirror

So, don't ever doubt yourselves. Don't ever doubt your gut feelings. We might want validation and someone to keep us safe, but sometimes we don't have that and have to rely on our survival mode. It sucks, but there's a reason why that thing is called "survival": it keeps you alive. It keeps you going.

And no one, NO ONE has the right to say you're overreacting, you're being hysterical, you're reading too much into it, you're just trying to find the easy way out, you just don't want an opportunity because you're lazy, you're crazy and deranged, etc, etc.

If your gut is flapping red flags all around, then overreact. Be hysterical. Read too much into it, find the easy way out, be lazy, be crazy and deranged. Be the villain. Be the bad person. You're not perfect. You're not a princess. Be comfortable with people telling you you're bad - but never NEVER let go of your gut feeling when your safety is on the line.

That fucking thing WILL save your life. Being too nice, though, might not. Listen to yourself, be TRUE to yourself, and, again, don't be afraid to be bad.

Someday you might just find your half-demon man who will support you, protect you and treat you as an equal powerhouse, but until that day, keep on conquering your self-esteem and unwavering will.

I'm just saying all of this now because:

1 - I was too scared to talk about this for a looong time afraid the guy in question would find this, know it's me and my safety would be on the line again

2 - Just now I'm getting comfortable with the concept of being "seen as the villain" and being "seen as bad". My whole life I have been dancing around this because people always said I had a "difficult" personality. I watched Cruella recently and it hit home so hard. We do have things to learn from villainous characters and maybe this is just who I am. People are going to see me as bad so, who cares. Even if I'm not, it would do me good getting used to that idea - I can be more assertive to my boundaries and not allow any of this to happen again. So, there you go. It's an exercise everyone should do. Are you comfortable defending your ideas, your boundaries and your integrity even if people are mad you're not being a pushover/perfectly polite?

It's something I think all of us should think about ;)

Also

thanks for coming to my TED Talk :')

[wildechild3]

Modern Maurice AU

Okay so the concept of Maurice and Alec having kids still hasn't left my brain. I have a doc with my notes about a modern AU. Feel free to suggest any changes/ideas. As many of you know - I'm AmericanTM so I've been doing my best to keep things accurate. None of these headcanons will spoil the actual fic I'm writing, this is just a world building exercise. I'm making one post for each of the main three and one for the kids because they got really long.

Modern Maurice Headcanons:

*Maurice, Alec, Clive, and Anne all would've been born in the 1990's and the year the story takes place is 2023/current year*

Maurice:

Keeping with canon - met Clive at Cambridge and their relationship started much the same way as in the original book.

Clive also broke up with him because of that sweet mixture of internalized homophobia, wanting his inheritance, and pressure from his family.

Maurice spiraled badly after the breakup. He started drinking a lot and dropped out of Cambridge much to his mother's horror.

He starts going on Grindr but is terrified of actually meeting up with anyone.

You'll never guess who messages him though - the best boy Alec Scudder.

Maurice vaguely remembers him as an employee of the Durham's (more details in Alec's section) and starts talking to him.

Alec was the first person he actually met and hooked up with from Grindr. And after having a little crisis (and lowkey ghosting Alec for about a week) he ends up reaching out and apologizing to Alec for ghosting him.

He never meant to actually meet someone off of Grindr but he fell for Alec HARD.

Maurice falls for Alec so hard he comes out to his family. He doesn't want to repeat what happened with Clive, and Alec seems to really want to make it a serious relationship.

Coming out does not go well. He gets disowned by just about everyone but Kitty.

He moves in with Alec and decides to go back to university to get a business degree (from what I've read, public universities in the UK were mostly free until 2017?)

He gets a job at as an accountant after he graduates. He worked in an office for a while but after 2020 he works from home permanently. (I am a Maurice 'House-husband' Hall Truther don't mind me. )

Maurice cries when Alec proposes to him on one random evening (he blames it on being wine drunk) and they literally can't wait so they end up at the courthouse by the next weekend.

I want to save the details about their family for the kids' headcanons section so stay tuned for more!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

(before i get into the meat of this ask i wanna say that i loved the first chapter of your fic so much xx)

okay. you know how it's like really fucking hot right now?? in the uk it is, anyway-

well.

think modern steve and bucky, a little younger (around 17-18-ish) - childhood best friends who go everywhere together and have virtually no secrets. So basically canon stucky but they haven't been fucking since they were old enough to know how to use their dicks...

it's the hottest day of the year so far and theyre sitting on steve's bed. Bucky's there because his fan broke (again) and has got a bowl of ice sitting on his chest, sucking on the cubes as Steve works away on this sketch he has to finish. They're both shirtless because even clothes are becoming too much to wear.

They're talking about stupid things, like if summer or winter is better (bucky says winter because no matter how cold it is you can always layer up - and he's right, by the way), what they would do if they were suddenly trapped in their favourite videogame (there's no way steve isn't getting ripped apart by a clicker from the last of us - his little artist hands would be no good with a gun), when Bucky asks,

"Do you have any gum?"

Steve, barely looking up from this one corner of his sketch that he's been erasing and redrawing to get the shape right, nods towards his bedside drawer.

"There should be some in there, I think," he says, and Bucky leans over to open it.

"Uh... steve?" Bucky asks, and Steve's eyes widen as he looks over at his friend and sees what he has in his hand.

"What the fuck- Bucky, put that back!" Steve puts his sketchbook beside him and tries to grab at Bucky's hand, missing it and flopping pathetically down onto the bed.

"Hey-! No, you can't- look, there's nothing embarrassing about having this... well- what even is it?"

"That's none of your business," Steve huffs, trying again to grab at his hand again, "Put it back. Please."

"What- oh-!"

Bucky's found the little button at the bottom of the vibrator and has decided to turn it on.

"Wait, does this go on your..."

"Yes, Bucky, it goes on my dick, now- give it back." Steve tries, holding out his hand. Bucky doesn't give it back - he keeps playing with the settings until he finds the highest one and presses it to his forearm.

"Holy shit," he murmurs, forgetting Steve is watching him for a moment, "You're not fucking around with this thing, huh?"

"Bucky..."

"How long?"

"What?"

Steve stares at Bucky, gaze flitting quickly from his chest to his eyes. Bucky raises his eyebrows, turning off the toy and facing Steve.

"How long do you usually last?" he asks, like it's as normal a thing than if he was asking the weather. How long do you usually last?

"It's getting a bit warmer in here, I'll turn the fan up-" Steve tries changing the subject, reaching for the fan's remote by stretching his arm across Bucky's laid out body. Bucky grabs his hand before he can reach, though, and their position is conflicting in so many ways.

"Tell me," Bucky says again, looking at Steve with dark eyes an watching the blond's stomach tremble with the effort of holding himself up, "How long can you last before you can't take it anymore?"

Steve's skin is burning from both the general heat and how Bucky's holding onto his wrist, tight enough so he can't go anywhere yet loose enough that if Steve pulls hard enough, he could free himself.

"I.. I don't know."

Bucky grins at that, and flips them over so he's on top of Steve, hovering, because their skin is sticky due to how hot it is in the room.

"You don't know?" Bucky asks, picking up the vibrator again and holding it in his hand, "Well - how about we find out?"

and thennnn.....

then steve comes within the first five minutes of being teased on the lowest setting because Bucky's chest and lips and eyes are right there and they set him off (along with the words he whispers in his ear in a totally platonic, non-sexual way because having a vibrator between your hand and another man's dick is totally not classed as a handjob - right?????)

*insert unintelligeble screaming noises*

bucky and steve's brains rn: imnotgayimnotgayimnotgayimnotgay-

enjoy my word vomit

"Sit" my new fic, part one of a new series 👀

(Thank you so much! I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying it, and I loved your response, especially, haha)

I will enjoy this 👀

I love, love, love the idea of Bucky picking up the vibrator, getting it to the highest setting and having his eyes widen as he feels it because, holy shit, that's fucking intense! Even on his arm! Bucky's opinion of Steve's sexual preferences (that he certainly has NOT thought about before, no, they're close buds, but not that close. Nope.) is rapidly forming, and it's... he's impressed. He can withstand this? Wrapped around his dick! How!?

But then--

Then, Bucky learns the truth.

And the truth is that Steve is sensitive; he's never even tried the highest setting. He struggles, on the lowest setting, to keep quiet--whimpering and biting back moans as it slides up and down his shaft, buzzing. He doesn't need more. The lowest is enough.

The lowest is enough to have him cumming embarrassingly quickly. When he orgasms with the assistance of the vibator, as Bucky quickly learns, he quivers. He shakes. He can't stop squirming, even after his cock is done cumming, painting his concave belly. The vibrations just... they crawl inside him, freying his nerves and setting a fire inside him that takes a while to burn down to coals.

It's fucking incredible to watch.

He looks so hot, squirming and panting and turning pink, hands balled into fists, mouth open, eyebrows drawn together.

Bucky needs a repeat performance. He needs several. For science. With and without the vibrator. All different levels of the vibrator. All different intensities of hand jobs and--

Yeah.

This has to happen again. A damn has been broken, they can't stop doing this now. They've only just started! Besides, Bucky hasn't gotten to try it yet 👀

Thank 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 this 👏🏻

I love this idea. It's incredibly delicious. I'm always here for first times 👀 I'm always here for poor, sensitive, squirming boys. I'm always, always here for sex toys.

[organchordsandlightning]

Speckled Band Part 3

"Can I be of assistance?" "Your presence might be invaluable." "Then I shall certainly come." "It is very kind of you."

extremely soft over this dialogue. watson is his partner, and holmes is still like ‘look, you can wait in the hotel if you want’

"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession.

as someone with a hobby knowledge of the history of toxicology, it really is fascinating to see this as written in 1892. at this point, we have an okay-ish knowledge of what household things are poisonous (at the very least, the UK at this time was much better about banning stuff like arsenic in candy than the US) but we’re still about ... like, thirty-forty years out from being able to reliably identify non-plant-based poisons (like arsenic, etc etc) in the human body after death. a lot of poisonings got away with it because, frankly, a lot of people were getting accidentally poisoned all the time anyway, and if you couldn’t identify arsenic or what-have-you in a corpse ... no case!

Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a vise upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and put his lips to my ear.

"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon."

“It is a nice household” mixed with watson’s “MY GOD!? A CHILD!?” is so funny

I do love that Watson is writing these stories down for publication, but he’s freely admitting to burglary here

How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall.

god I’m remembering how well-done this scene is in Granada, and you can really feel the tension here

I could, however, see that his face was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing.

oh holmes is SCARED scared “you won’t inject my body with an undetectable non-plant-based poison you son of a bitch”

"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake in India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another.

such a good reveal

Some of the blows of my cane came home and roused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott's death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my conscience."

(a) snakish lmao (b) this brings up an interesting legal question of whether holmes is guilty of murder.  while I don’t think this falls under the legal definition of murder (no pre-intent) or manslaughter (frankly, it’s more self-defense than anything - you see a snake hissing at you, you gotta hit that bad boy with a cane, that it went back to its master and bit him is none of your business as far as you’re concerned) however, i did look up to see that the felony murder rule was still in place in the UK at that time (called constructive malice) -- essentially saying that the courts could attribute malice aforethought (’i’m gonna go kill that guy) to you if a death was caused during the commission of another felony (say .... burglary) EDITED WITH FURTHER LEGAL THOUGHTS -- HELEN INVITED THEM INSIDE THE HOUSE, I DON’T THINK IT COUNTS AS BURGLARY ANYMORE, SHERLOCK HOLMES IS MURDER-FREE

[user-rui]

Getting A Kiss: Seme!Male!Reader x Uke!Male!Insert

(U/n) = Uke name

(Y/n) = Your name

Whoops, hehe. I got busy. Have some fluff ' v '.

-Narrator's Pov-

(U/n) (Last name). Also known as your adorably cute cinnamon roll. He was your ideal boyfriend, takes care of you, showers you with attention, gives you good sex, you know, all of the small things. But he had one flaw, something you wished he could change.

"(U/n), do you need anything from the store?" You asked, putting on a jacket. "Here," was all the smaller male said, handing you a list, looking at you with a bright smile. "Please tell me it's not what I think it is..." You mutter, hesitantly looking down.

My list 0v0. (Insert an unhealthy amount of sweets here).

You sighed, pocketing the list.

"You can only choose one treat to buy," You informed, putting on your shoes and picking up a pair of keys. "Send it to me via text message. And if you can't decide, I'll make the decision for you by buying none of them," You reason, patting him on the head and giving him a goodbye kiss before leaving. Almost immediately, you could hear your lover shouting and pouting.

"I really need to get sound proof walls," You muttered as you got into your car and drove off. Quickly, you made your way to the grocery store and located the necessities you needed. (U/n) did send you a sugary treat for you to buy, and you added that to your shopping cart.

It didn't take long for you to get back home, and you were greeted with a pouting lover. "Here's you snack," You said, handing him a small package. "You can't keep on eating so much sugar, (U/n)."

Yes, you're adorable little cinnamon roll practically lived off of sugar. And it was a habit that needed to dial down a little.

"(U/n), let's talk about something," You said as the smaller male had already began to devour the treat. He looked at you with a puzzled look as you explained: "You can't keep on eating nothing but sugar. It’s not good for you."

The (uke hair colour) male looked visibly upset.

"B-but I need sugar!" He retorted.

"You're going to get sick."

"No I won't! I-I need this to survive!" He cried.

It was definitely over exaggerated, but (U/n) protectively held his treat to his chest. "That's the last sweet snack I'm going to buy for you. I'll still give you snacks, but it won't be junk food," You stated as you went to put the bought items in the fridge.

"No! Y-you can't make me!" 

"I know you won't agree, so I have a reward for you as well. For every time you snack on something healthy, I'll reward you with a kiss. But if I find you eating something unhealthy, I'll confiscate it and ignore you." (U/n) looked conflicted. On one hand, he wanted snacks, but on the other hand, he couldn't go without kisses. The smaller male was mumbling to himself as he thought about what he wanted.

"F-fine, I won't eat anything unhealthy," The (uke hair colour) haired male mumbled in the end. You smiled and patted his head.

"Finish that, and then we'll begin, okay?" He nodded and slowly chewed on the treat, savouring the sugar he wouldn't be getting soon.

The next couple of days were practically torture for the smaller male, able to see sugary snacks, but unable to actually eat it. "(Y/n)! Please can I have one chocolate?" The smaller male whined. "You can eat a snack once a week, so tomorrow," You informed, handing him a glass of water.

(U/n) pouted, but didn't say anything else. He looked at the water, in which he would usually drink (flavour) juice. The smaller male slowly drank the water and finished the glass in no time.

"Good job," You praised as you gave him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled a goofy smile and leaned into your side. "M-maybe, this isn't too bad.." The smaller male mumbled as his face started burning up.

You played with his soft (uke hair colour) locks, gently untangling any knots you found in it. (U/n) leaned into your touch, making small sounds of satisfaction as you two spent some time together. However, you realized that your lover had began to ever so slightly rub himself against you.

"(U/n), you know what'll happen if you keep on doing this.." You stated, letting out a low groan as you felt the other speed up. "I-I wouldn't mind it happening..."

Your lover had a huge blush as he connected your lips, seductively licking yours in attempt to try and get you to dominate him, which you happily did, taking him into the bedroom for some 'lovely' time.

A couple weeks had past since that day, and (U/n) was only doing better and better at staying healthy. The amount of times he would revive kisses was increasing slowly, and the amount of sex that lead to was uncountable.

"It isn't too bad living without sugar, right (U/n)?" You asked one day as the two of you were just lousing around at home. The smaller male nodded in agreement as he laid his head on you chest. "I didn't even think I could do this.." He sighed.

His (uke eye colour) orbs looked up at you, shining bright from the light that was shining outside the window. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" (U/n) asked with a chuckle, which was honestly one of the most adorable things you've seen.

"No, but I'd rather you show me instead," You responded with a smirk, carrying him to your shared bedroom. You laid him down, roughly touching sensitive parts of his body as you observed his member slowly rise.

"I-I think I might be addicted to you.. Instead of sweets..." He panted, grabbing onto your shirt. "Why did you stop (Y/n)?"

Oh shit, he's addicted to me, like sweets...

"Maybe we should start banning kisses and sex... Before you get another unhealthy addiction..." You muttered. "(Y/n), you better be joking," (U/n) said in a threatening tone.

You couldn't hold the serious face anymore and burst into laughter. "You can see right through me, can you?" You chuckled, leaning down to kiss the other male, gently pecking the tip of his nose. "Meanie... You scared me," (U/n) pouted, his arms finding a place around your neck.

"Mhm~ Ah, (Y/n).. T-there," the (uke hair colour) haired male mumbled as you worked magic on the uke's neck, littering it with hickeys of all different sizes. "Should we... Go.. Deeper?" You asked, aroused and turned on.

You stared at the other with half lidded eyes, as you kissed him again. "If you don't respond, I'll take that as a yes." (U/n) nodded his head, looking up at you with a smile. Gently, you began to strip the other, putting his clothes off to the side.

"Please get addicted to me, (U/n)," You said before the two of you went for another round of 'fun'. It lasted the whole night, and your lover was sore from doing it way too frequently in the past couple of weeks, but it didn't really matter~