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#I’d support her in any decision she made
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#I think if she made Carolina a bonus track on folklore the fan reception would have been different#it would’ve been similar to tolerate it in that she mentioned the book by name and as a source of inspiration and that would be that#I think the main issue is that it’s not just a song she wrote for an album but is deliberately tied to the film#I know that the book was and is still incredibly popular and sadly I hadn’t heard about the author’s history before T got involved#I think if more people were aware of the author’s actions the book wouldn’t have had the same success or even gotten published#I think it was a case of someone recommending the book to her and her reading it and connecting to it#I can’t blame her for reading and being inspired and not knowing since I didn’t know about the author#I can understand why/how she felt connected to Kya after the events of 2016 and get that she felt inspired#I’d like to think that if she was aware of the author’s past that she wouldn’t intentionally get involved but who knows#I think the issue is that she made a choice to tie herself to it instead of just being inspired#and when she made that decision she should’ve looked at the author’s history and re-evaluated it#and fans calling out her hypocritical behavior/projects she’s been involved with recently is valid and necessary#with her tying herself directly to the film it boosts the author’s platform although it has been an incredibly popular book since release#I do think Taylor needs to get better with actually following through with what she says/supports and that this was a misstep#but the author getting published in the first place is on the publishers and a whole different discussion#I said it once but I feel like anyone could’ve written the story with the same main themes but w/out the influence of the author’s racism#you can’t really separate the song from the book/movie unless you’re like unaware and hear it with no prior context#I understand why some people aren’t engaging with it because of the bad taste it leaves in their mouths#I don’t think that any money from streams or anything goes to the author/film but to Taylor#but again it boosts the author’s profile/book when it shouldn’t#didn’t want to wade into this discussion until today with everything happening yesterday#did this in the tags because it would’ve been a long post if not
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
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mapileonxputellas · 2 months
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Beckham II: 3 Nerves
The third part is finally here! I hope you enjoy.
Masterlist can be found here.
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9th February 2023
“Breaking news this lunch time, Sarina Weigman had named her squad for the Arnold Clark cup and included in the squad for the first time in nearly 4 years is Y/N Beckham.” England squads weren’t typically breaking news on the main news channels but this was no ordinary squad announcement. “Widely considered as one of the best players on the planet, Beckham has not been including in an England squad since the 2019 World Cup and her return dominated the press conference.”
Squad announcement press conferences are usually comminated by a few stories, the surprise inclusions, the ones who don’t quite make the cut. However when the list was read out it was immediately clear what all the questions would be about today as the eyes of world football turned to Sarina.
“Sarina can you tell us more about Beckham’s inclusion? Why has this decision been taken now after 4 years?”
“I know you’re all probably very interested in that so I’ll try and answer all of your questions. This hasn’t been a simple process for either party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been watching her since I became England manager but it’s not that simple and we had to respect the fact that Y/N did not want to be called up. Over the past few weeks I’ve been working closer with her and we’ve agreed that now is the right time to see if we can make progress.”
“The squad has changed a lot since then but there are still players who would were in the squad in 2019, have you spoken to them about this?”
“I have not, I’d like to think that all players support each other and I know my players well enough to know that they will do all they can to make Y/N feel welcome in this environment both on and off the pitch.”
“Do you have any concerns around her desire to play for England and play for the badge. Will she have lost that fight in the past four years?”
“I can not prove that to you and I guess none of us will know the answer until she plays for England again but I would not pick any player I had those concerns about. I’ve watcher her play a lot for Barcelona and over this past year especially I’ve seen a freedom to her play. I just hope that we can all see that side of her in an England shirt.”
“David, were you shocked when the announcement was made?”
“I mean obviously we spoke about prior to the announcement but when she told me I wasn’t exactly shocked. It just annoyed me that people questioned her mentally because she is so strong now.”
…..
Everyone could tell you were anxious. Since the announcement on Thursday you’d been quieter than usual in training, your usual sweet laughter which your teammates loved had been replaced by a strained giggle and they could see you’d been putting pressure on yourself in every department.
Everything had to be perfect.
In the four days since your decision had been made public you’d received support from all your teammates but you could see they were also worried. Many of them had been here when you joined, they’d seen the aftermath and many of them had been your shoulder to lean on for months after.
Many of them watched on now as you retreated into your room, barely giving a second glance to the games currently taking place in the dining room, a tradition you were a usual member of the night before an away game.
Alexia and Mapi had noticed the changes just like everyone else, the three of you had a strong connection both on and off the pitch. Alexia had become an older sister figure to you and Mapi was your platonic soul mate. They knew your habits unlike anyone else and when the notebook you used for anxious tattoo scribblings had been out the entire journey to Mallorca it was clear your mind was elsewhere.
“You grab the pillows.”
“I’ll grab the blankets.”
The two of them scurried off to their own rooms, finding their entrusted items before meeting back at the door which they knew you would be behind. You wouldn’t have gone outside, your shy nature meant you struggled to have confidence in new cities, preferring to explore with others rather than alone as the sun went down.
Alexia knocked on the door, a moment of panic striking as they thought you weren’t going to answer before the door creaked open. Your wide-eyed figure stood in the crack, still in the tracksuit you’d travelled in rather than pyjamas.
“What’s going on?” The tree of you quite often spent the nights in each other’s hotel rooms, though those meetings were usually pre-planned.
Only you knew from the worried expressions on their faces this wasn’t a call to watch the latest film that had been released. “We’re worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
You should have known that answer was never going to satisfy them. “Please can we come in.”
It wasn’t even worth trying to persuade them, not really. “Sure.” They couldn’t miss the sigh you let out as the door swung open. “Make yourself comfy.”
In the matter of minutes you’d gone from sprawling over the double bed alone to shuffling between the two players, being welcomed into the arms of Alexia as the three of you shuffled under the duvet.
“We’re worried about you.” MarÍa admitted, smoothing down the hair draped around your face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure because I bet if we looked in that notepad we’d find more anxious doodles than before. You’ve barely spoken two words to anyone since the news broke out.”
“I read an article-“
“Didn’t I tell you to stop that.” Alexia scolded you. “Those journalists don’t know anything about you.”
“But they don’t know that.” You argued back. “They’ll be reading about how ‘cocky’ I am on and off the pitch, how I flaunt my money, how I think I ‘own the team’.”
“If they believe that then they really have no eyes. Then they’ll see how you’re one of the shiest players on the team, they’ll learn how you could live in mansion but donate so much money to charity, they’ll see how much you work on the team as a whole. You do everything for football and they need to see that.”
“If they don’t love the person they’ll come to know then that’s on them.” Alexia agreed with her.
“Are you sure this isn’t about a certain blonde centre back?” MarÍa teasingly questioned you. “Maybe this isn’t about you being nervous about the articles and more about going into gay panic around Miss Williamson.”
“I told you that in confidence that you’d never bring it up again.” It was true, a few years ago you had confided in the two of them that you used to have a small (very large) crush on Leah at the time.
“And I’m tired of you being the third wheel in our flat, you’ve rejected every opportunity for me to set you up with one of my friends so now I have to think that it’s because you’re still pining for the girl.”
“I’m not pining for anyone, it was a stupid crush which has gone in the four years that I haven’t spoken to the girl.”
“Would you like to speak to her again?” Alexia asked.
“I mean obviously I’m going to have to, she’s the captain of the team.”
“Message her now.”
“No.”
“Why not?” I could only think of a million reasons why I wasn’t about to do that.
“Because like I said, I haven’t spoken to her in nearly four years and it would be weird for me to just message her the night before we see each other again.”
“So lets role play it then, you walk into the hotel tomorrow and she’s there, what are you going to say?” Alexia asked the question you’ve been asking yourself all week.
“Hi.”
Both of them looked like they wanted to tear out both their own and your hair. “Ok you can’t just say that.”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“How are you? Ask her about her life?”
“You want me to speak to the girl for the first time in years and ask her basically how she’s been since we went from speaking every day to unfollowing each other on social media and avoiding any chance of meeting since then.” You needed better friends in situations like this. “I’m not going heavy on our first conversation.”
“You will need to talk about.”
“I know but it’s not just her I need to have that conversation with, I was close with a lot of them and now I’m not. They should be just as involved in that conversation as Leah is.”
“Maybe you could design her a little tattoo, something like ‘I love Y/N’ on her forehead.” MarÍa teased you. “Matches your ‘I love Leah’ on your chest.”
“Shut up, just so you know I’ll never stop cockblocking you and Ingrid, I’ll be round for tea when I get back.”
“Bonnie told me she wants to live with me all the time by the way, said something about her mum abandoning her.”
“Fuck off MarÍa.”
….
The first person to reach out to you wasn’t exactly someone you expected. Mary Earps wasn’t exactly in your friendship group back in 2019, though because she was a part of that squad she was one of the players who you unfollowed in the following unfortunate events. You definitely therefore were not expecting to see her name pop up as you made your way through the airport, heading out to the car which would take you back to your parents’ house before you headed to the team hotel later on in the evening.
@1maryearps: See you later mate, we can’t wait to have you back x
Your emotions were so all over the place that maybe you should have expected this simple message to bring tears to your eyes. Maybe that meant you’d have at least one person on your side tonight.
You spent most of the meal with parents and siblings trying to do anything to avoid the thoughts about what was happening tonight coming back. You spoke to Harper about her homework, Cruze about his latest holiday and Romeo about his girlfriend. Brooklyn could almost sense your nervousness and kept up the conversation, which was all fine until you had to leave.
They knew how big this moment was and each gave you an individual goodbye before you got back into the car. As much as you would have liked to have taken your dad’s offer to drive you, this was all about being normal and being drove by David Beckham didn’t really give off that vibe.
You’d made this drive a million times before, only this time it seemed to take half the time and before you knew it the doors to St George’s Park were in view.
The only person in view was a single man holding a video camera, obviously preparing for the players’ arrivals This was hard and yet you knew this was probably the easiest step, he didn’t know you. You got out from the car, flashing a small smile to the camera as it trained on your every move, making sure to say a thank you to the driver, you turned to head inside.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” The camera man asked.
“Excited.” You couldn’t exactly tell him you were shaking inside. “I can’t wait to be back with this amazing team.”
“Two goals from you today….”
“All thanks to my teammates.” It was only the truth, you were basically set up for both goals by Aitana, you couldn’t do anything but put them in the back of the net.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you very much.”
If you were known for one thing it would be your punctuality, in fact you almost had a fear of being late. Maybe you’d done it on purpose this time to avoid greeting teammates in front of the camera but you were the first here judging by the table in the reception area being full of keys.
“Y/N it’s good to finally meet you in person.” Anja, one of the members of the England management team greeted you. “I hope you’re feeling well.”
“I’m glad to be here,” You settled for that. “I can’t wait to get back on that pitch now.”
“Well we’re glad to have you here. Here’s your key, we’ll meet in the dining area for a quick debrief at 8 and then you’ll have the night to yourself. Training schedules for the week are in your key pack.”
“Thank you.”
This place hadn’t changed one bit, from the entrance all the way up to your rooms you could trace the steps without even looking. You could hear noise out in the corridor but you stayed put, waiting for the clock to tick to 7:50 before making your way downstairs. With it being ten minutes early no one was there but Sarina and the coaching staff. Could this technically count as your first impression to them?
Their eyes trained on you as you entered the room. “Hey, thank you once again.”
“Stop saying thank you, this is all on you.” Sarina instructed, giving you a firm yet welcoming hug, an action which was repeated by the others. “Go and take a seat.”
“Thank-“ Maybe not. “Ok Sarina.”
You didn’t really know what to expect from the others, the squad was definitely a mixture of youth and experience. However even some of the more established players like Alessia and Ella were unknown to you on a personal level.
Thankfully maybe the first ones in were some of the younger players, Jess Park and Ebony Salmon were both the epitome of excitement as they entered the room saying a quick hello to the staff before slightly pausing when they found me sat on the first row.
“Hi.” You knew it was on you to make the effort. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Jess said taking the seat next to me. “You’re killing it at Barcelona.”
“Thank you, I’ve enjoyed watching you play this season. You’ll be an asset at city when you return.” You loved studying young players and watching their development. Jess was no difference in that, plus it helped to build up that connection on the team.
The volume in the room increased as more players entered. Some like Laura Coombs and Katie Zelem gave you a quick smile before taking their seats, other youngsters gave you a quick welcome.
The first real re-introduction you had was when Millie and Rachel entered, your eyes instantly connecting and it was Rachel who led the two of them over. You had always loved the two of them and almost let out a sigh of relief when they both greeted you with hugs, repeating how glad they were to see you. Lucy and Jordan followed suit, the two of them messing about and pulling you into a tight hug before taking their seats.
It was however the final people to enter the room that you were the most nervous about. Maybe you should have been thankful that when Keira, Georgia and Leah entered the room the meeting was about to start and all you could do was send a glancing look their way before Sarina had eyes on her.
She went through the logistics, just like happens every time before she got into the depths of the squad. “It would seem like this is the squad for reintroducing yourself. Laura hasn’t been with us since 2020 and Y/N in 2019. We just want everyone to remember that they’re here for a reason and we all play for England, we’re all a team.”
You blocked everything else out, vaguely scribbling down on your phone some notes about the timings and rooms you were needed in but it was all a bit of a blur. You took your time at the end speaking to some of the other girls, no-one seemed to be making a huge fuss about the situation but the trio had disappeared again and you knew you had to speak to them tonight before this started to interfere with the rest of the camp.
Thankfully you managed to find them, the three of them tucked away in the corner of the dining room, huddled around a laptop playing something in German.
“Hey.” Your voice almost cracked as you broke through the silence. “It’s good to see you all.”
You should have predicted really that Keira and Georgia would be your road in, though the two of them were fierce on the pitch they really were softies off it and you were almost knocked off your feet when they bounded up to you, both their arms wrapping around you in a hug.
“We can’t believe you’re actually here.” Georgia said. “This is just crazy.”
“It’s definitely different.” Leah finally joined in and that was the moment you knew even as she joined in the hug, she was the one who would be the toughest to crack. She wasn’t going to let you in just as easy but the captain part of her probably forced her to not let it show around others. “Glad to have you back on the team.”
“Thank you.”
“Take a seat.” Keira glanced to the free chair next to Leah. “We were just watching Georgia make a fool of herself, want to join?”
“Yeah I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”
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matchavellichor · 10 months
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If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊
Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️
A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶
You Drew Stars
f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words
Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...
Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow
The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 
He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.
“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 
“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”
“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”
“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”
She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”
He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 
She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.
After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.
“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”
“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”
“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”
He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”
“What can I say, I’m enticing.”
Overwhelmingly, he thought.
He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.
They fell into a simple sort of routine. 
Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.
He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.
She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.
He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 
She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.
It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.
Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 
Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 
They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.
He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 
//
Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.
“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”
“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”
“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”
“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”
He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 
Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”
He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”
//
“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”
“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”
“Both?”
She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”
“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 
She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”
“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”
He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 
“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 
You’re good for me, he thought.
“Call it self-preservation.”
//
“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”
“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”
She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.
Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.
They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.
They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.
“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 
He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 
She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 
His mouth felt terribly dry.
He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.
Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 
He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 
He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 
“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.
“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.
She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 
He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”
She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 
He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 
She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 
He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 
“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 
He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.
“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”
She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 
She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 
“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”
He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.
“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 
He swallowed hard. “Do I?”
“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”
She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.
Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.
He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.
He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.
Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.
Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.
She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 
She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.
When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 
He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.
//
After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.
Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.
Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.
He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.
He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 
She was bliss personified. 
Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 
His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.
After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 
He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 
“Tired?” 
She shook her head. “Just missed you.”
He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”
She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 
Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?
He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.
He loved having her like this. 
Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 
She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.
“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 
She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 
He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 
A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.
“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.
She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.
His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 
“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”
He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 
“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”
//
Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.
Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 
His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.
He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 
“Have you ever…?”
He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 
She nodded. 
A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”
She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”
“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”
“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 
“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 
“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 
It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”
She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 
Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 
“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 
He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”
He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”
“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”
“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”
“I won’t hold that against you, either.”
She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 
He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.
“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 
If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 
She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.
He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 
She tensed. “You don’t have to—”
“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”
Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”
It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.
“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”
She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.
He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 
“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.
He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”
She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.
Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.
“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”
He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.
He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.
His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”
She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”
He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 
“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 
She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 
“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”
He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 
Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.
“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”
His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.
She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”
He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 
She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.
“You’ve only just noticed?”
//
It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 
His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.
Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.
“Fucking took you two long enough.”
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Ding dong, here’s the final chapter! I have an epilogue in mind so that may come later, but for now, Thanks  so so much for the response to this series and Enjoy!
Ch1 Ch2 Ch3
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[talking] [talking passes]
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Gai: You knew right away, didn’t you? Kka: Correct. I knew something was wrong when you weren’t trying to do situps or anything..... You little criminal, who smuggled that in for you? Gai: Naruto
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Kks: How did you get him to do that? /I/ cant even get Naruto to do things. The tear tracks and shit eating grin are cute. Kinda wanna kiss you. Gai: Don’t let me be a hindrance to-
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Gai: What are you giggling about? Kks: I just remembered
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Kks: I get to hold over your head that I held mirai before you. Gai: You what?! Your first baby hold and I missed it? Get off of me Kks: So mean! Near death made you crabby. Gai: I won’t give into this Kks: You will, you always succumb. [gai sighs annoyed]
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Gai: [Groans] When are they making you swear in as hokage? Kks: That’s not happening anymore thankfully. Gai: Huuuh?? Tenzou didn’t tell me that!
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Gai: He said Lady Tsunade was retiring and you were the only choice. Naruto even tried to- Kks: Where do you think i’ve been all day? I convinced her to hold out until Naruto or whoever  took over next. Gai: How did you smooth talk that one? Kks: I agreed to do her paperwork and cover for when she needs R&R. I also advised her to ditch the elders so she can actually run this shit show right. Gai: And they... took that well? The elders? Kks: No, not at all. Let’s just say I said some... things that made them backtrack on their decision.
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Gai: YOu cant just say that and not tell me now!! I gotta know! Kks: Well... Homura: Absolutely not! Kks: If I am appointed, I’ll be replacing you regardless. Naruto certainly will. It’s inevitable. Koharu: Those kids don’t know how this village runs!
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Kks:Those kids just won your war and this is how you speak of them. Or are “those kids“ only respectable to you when they’re eager to die at your beckon call and shut up. Elders: How dare- Watch your tongue! Kks: I won’t be someone who you can walk all over. Things will change. Just so my intentions are clear
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Gai: What next?! Kks: That’s is really. Kinda tuned the rest out and passed out for 3 hours. Gai: Rival, I was so invested Kks: Sorry Gai: So you agreed to essentially split the work of a hokage but not publicly take the title? Kks: Mhm Gai: So cool! Apologies, I had just assumes since you were gonna accept last time Kks:[hums] Things changed. Konoha’s not on the brink of war, Tsunade’s still here. The village can breathe and rebuild now.
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Kks: After a glimpse of the hassle and public attention the last time, I’m just... Not interested in any of that. I’ve never dreamed or desired to be the hokage. That was always something others wanted /for/ me. So I said no. I know you were happy for me so- Gai: Kakashi
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Gai: I’m so very proud of you for expressing how you truly feel. You and tsunade will do amazing work supporting the next generation. Even If you chose to retire today, I’d still be just as proud of you. Also a selfish part of me if happy to have more time with you. [kks huffs]
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Kks: I’m proud of you too, y’ know. All your hard work, you’re fucking incredible. Glad my dad made me talk to the cool kid in the green jumpsuit. 2nd coolest shinobi. Gai: Only took 25 years, but I’ve finally caught your eye! Kks: Yup, let’s move in together.
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Gai: WHAT?1 Whu-! Kks: I’m fixing up dad’s old house with Tenzou. you should live there with me Gai: Why? Kks: Why are yo suspicious? I’m serious. Space, accessibility for you... I want you around more. Gai: Ok Kks: Ok? Gai: An exciting change is just what my youthful journey needs!! Kks: So yes?
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Gai: I would love to share a home with you, Rival [kks giggling] What now?
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Kks: Did I just make you succumb, Gai-kun? Gai: When can we have a match next, I need to consensually slap you in the head [kks laughs] Why did you say it like that? Kks: I’m sorry! Your pout looks so cute.... You are still moving in with me, right? That wasnt a joke.
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Gai: I’m gonna let you sweat on that one awhile... [whimpers]
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Kks: Love you so much, Gai
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[gai snoring]
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[gai snoring]
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Depths of the Heart
This was supposed to be your last excursion with the party and now you're trapped with Laios. What will be revealed while Chilchuck takes his sweet time helping you out?
Miscommunication? sorta both Laios and the reader are oblivious to their feelings. I did give the reader some anxiety so there's that <3
ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon
Relationship: Laios Touden/Reader
Characters: Namari, Chilchuck Tims, Falin Touden, Marcille Donato, Shuro | Nakamoto Toshiro, Laios Touden
Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety
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As you walk on the stone floors your footsteps echo alongside your parties. The third floor was known for having hidden doorways and traps from floor to ceiling so Chilchuck was leading the group. His senses worked on overdrive making sure the path was safe. 
You had already been in the dungeon for two days so the conversation was light. Marcille and Falin were chatting quietly, probably about spells or their years in the academy. Laios was sticking by Shuros side, like a puppy following a stray cat, asking questions about monsters in the east. Namari and you brought up the rear, protecting the rest of the party from possible attacks. Namari wasn't much of a conversationalist, other than when it came to weapons, so you two walked in a fairly comfortable silence. 
Your mind drifted to your conversation with her before you entered the dungeon a few weeks ago. The party was out to dinner while going over the last excursion. You had wanted to get her input about your thoughts on possibly leaving the party.
“Why!? I mean, not that there aren’t any valid reasons to leave and find a different party, or employer but I thought you and Laios… Got along well. And you like the rest of the party too. You seem happy enough with the progress and payment?” her eyes looking over to where the rest of the party ate in the meal hall. 
“I did, I do. It’s just lately I find myself making mistakes and not feeling like I fit in. The vibes have changed you know? Plus I got an offer for room and board and a paying position in another party on the island. And I know you were thinking about leaving for a little while so I thought I’d get your thoughts.”
She took in your words for a beat and then responded, “I have been getting offers from other parties as well, and they are pretty enticing. Especially when Laios can be a less-than-great leader in the social aspects of leading. Though it would take something pretty impactful to make me just get up and leave.” 
You nod along as she talks. 
“But that’s me. What's important is that if you feel like staying in the party is not for you then that's what you feel. Before you leave you should talk to Laios, see if maybe this is something you could ya know, work out together.”
Your face grows hot at her suggestion, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Recently just being around Laios made you self-conscious and kinda clumsy, which is not what you wanted when in a life or death situation “Maybe. I’ll give it some thought. Thanks, Namari.” 
When you had gone to Namari you had expected her to agree with you and support your decision to leave. It would make sense given that she was always voicing her displeasure with the financial situation. It seemed strange that she would encourage you to try and talk through your issues. Walking on the third floor you think about the resignation letter you had in your pack for after the end of this crawl. You hadn't told anyone yet, not wanting to ruin your last adventure together. Though most of the party members had noticed your emotional distance, besides Laios. He would still tell you monster facts about the monsters you had just taken down, even repeating ones he had told you before. Earlier on you would grin and comment on them, or even offer some of your own. Now however it makes you feel uneasy when his smiling face and positive energy are directed towards you. You simply acknowledged his words and continued. 
You can't blame him for not noticing. You were trying to not let him know how strange you felt, and you were not about to tell him and make him concerned. And what if he got mad at you when you told him, you couldn't handle that? It would be easier to just take it on yourself and remove yourself from the equation. You had been in your mind so much you hadn't noticed that there was an odd stone in your path. Though Laios had. 
“(Y/N!)” he shouted while rushing back towards you. You looked at him right as your foot stepped down. His body collided with you as the section of floor you were standing on gave out beneath you. 
~~~
“Damn it!” you exclaimed after you had landed properly on your bottom with Laios’ body over top of yours. “I can’t believe I was dumb enough to step on that pressure plate! I should have been paying attention.” 
“We all make mistakes,” Laios said while standing up and dusting himself off. “Plus Chilchuck should be able to find the release mechanism up above. Then Marcille or Falin can help us out.” He starts looking around, the temporary holding place having a few torches for light. “At least it wasn’t a spike pit.” 
“We shouldn't try to escape without Chilchuck. We may get ourselves into even more trouble if we press the wrong thing. Plus neither of us specialize in things like this.” you tell him, worried as he walks along the perimeter of the room.
He nods along, “You’re right, looks like we’ll just have to wait it out.”  
Your heart beats loudly in your chest. Not only were you trapped due to your airheadedness you also had brought Laios down with you.  Mistakes like this were exactly why you needed to leave. You were becoming a danger to yourself and others. Whenever Laios was around or on your mind you just could not focus. Why had you decided on one last trip? You had already agreed to the new job?  You knew you couldn't be trusted but you just had to follow along. But when Laios told you about the plans for this trek you just agreed, without a second thought. And now, you could die in this stupid room and no corpse retriever would be able to find you. No, you try to tell yourself, you're only on the third floor and you trust your party. As long as you stayed where you were and did not move there would be no way you could mess it up anymore.
“Well while we're here we may as well make lunch.” 
“Yeah I guess.” you're an idiot
~~~
Laios went through his rations finding some dried meat and barley rice. He didn’t have enough water to soak the barley rice in. 
“I think I have some backup in my pack, you can check. Oh, also I brought some seasonings along if you would grab those too” You were busy using your limited magical knowledge to start a fire. 
“Thanks.”  No matter what was cooked he would always stomach it with enthusiasm if it came from you but you did pride yourself on being able to make the rations a bit better with seasonings and some oil. Some people, Chilchuck, thought it was an unnecessary weight but you liked it. Plus you could tell he liked it better when you were on cooking duty. 
Rummaging sounds came from Laios as he looked through your pack for the ingredients. Your fire was done and you placed the pan over the fire to start heating up. 
“Here.” he handed you the water and your spice pouch. 
“Thank you Laios,” you added the water to the pan and let it come to heat as you prepared the barley rice. 
After a while the food was ready. You and Laios ate together. It may have been your anxiety but he seemed suspiciously quiet. Laios was rarely this quiet for this long, always filling the air with his thoughts on monsters or the dungeon, freely asking questions about his party members' lives. To be fair you were quieter lately, though he had not seemed to notice, he would have brought it up. Or would he? He wasn't very keen on social cues so you hadn't seen him confront anyone about it before. 
“When are you leaving?” 
“Huh?” 
“I saw your notice in your bag, signed and everything.” 
“Oh,” You forgot you had it in your bag when you told him to look for the ingredients. “I was planning on leaving after this crawl.” 
“I… I thought you liked it, you know, with us.” 
“I do.” 
“Then why are you leaving, is it finances? I know we're a little down right now but if there was a problem why didn’t you come to me?” 
“It’s not the money, I mean it didn’t help but that’s not it.” 
“Did someone say something? Did they make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable?” he looked worried now “Is it me?” 
You had paused long enough for Laios to pick up on it. 
“It is, isn't it? What was it?  I…  thought we got along well. That we were friends!”
“We were, or are.” You shook your head “It’s not you, you haven’t changed or done anything wrong. I just, I’ve been off and I can’t figure it out.” your heart was beating even faster, you were shaking. This was exactly the conversation you wanted to avoid. 
His head tilted “Off? Like sick?”
“No, more like clumsy. My thoughts keep wandering and I make silly mistakes like getting us trapped here or like during our last crawl. Do you remember when I got sucked into that living painting and Shuro had to jump in to get me? I had zoned out looking right at it and didn't notice it moving! I could have gotten Shuro hurt.” 
Laios is looking at you like you're a hurt puppy
“I’ve become a burden on the rest of the party. It’s not fair to you guys for me to stay so I accepted an offer from another party. They're giving me room and board too, so that’s nice.”
Laios seems to be thinking over your words, looking down at his now-forgotten food.
“But if you are leaving cause you’re distracted how will that be fixed by leaving? Won’t you just be distracted in a new setting? That seems even more dangerous! You don’t know if you can trust your new party members. At least with us you know we will always have your back.” 
“I didn't even want to have this conversation. It would have been so much easier if we had a successful crawl and then I would tell the party I was leaving and said our goodbyes. Simple and nice. People change parties all the time Laios!” 
“That doesn't answer my question.”
You sigh and look away from him, looking towards the torch on the wall. They are always lit yet they never burn out. Must be tiring “I know.” He doesn't take his eyes off of you. “I guess it’s because it usually only happens when I'm with this party. Well mostly.” You can't bring yourself to fully look at him. 
“Oh.” 
You breathed in, hoping he would just drop it. Hoping he would come to some kind of understanding in his head. 
“But why?” 
Of course not. 
You buried your face in your hands. “I don't know.” 
“If we can work this out then I want to try. You shouldn’t leave.”  
“It’s not like I want to leave! I just, I can’t justify putting you and the others at risk because I’m afraid to lose my friendships. I just know that when I’m around the party I get self-conscious or I keep thinking weird things and I make avoidable mistakes.” 
“Self-Conscious?”
“Yeah … like if I look okay, or if I’m fighting well or not. If i'm being too loud or talking too much or not enough. As if I was an adolescent again trying to make the cool kids like me.”
He takes some time to weigh your words in his head.  
“Well I don’t know much about romance but that kind of seems like maybe you have a crush? Maybe? Marcille has talked to me about some of the books she read, and one of the characters acts like that around the character they want to court.”
Your heart seems to stop. 
“I think the next step is to figure out who it is and then tell them. You should ask Marcille though she really likes this kind of stuff. She's been talking about it to me more lately so she must really want someone to talk about it with.”
“Oh god.” of course it’s just a crush you feel so silly. “I guess that makes sense.” But who? 
Oh. Oh no. 
“Maybe it’s Shuro? He is pretty cool, and strong. Or Marcille, I know some people really find elves attractive, plus she's also good at magic.” 
Of course it's Him. It could never have been anyone else. 
“Or Namari, you two do seem pretty close.” 
Before you started having trouble your thoughts were always filled with ‘What does Laios think about this’ and ‘I wonder if Laios would be interested in that’, you had just thought he was a good friend. It was right around the time he had carried you away from an attacking dryad after it had pierced your thigh that you became more distant. He was always so careful with you and attentive. But he had never shown you any interest, not romantically. You weren't sure if he was even interested in those kinds of things. If leaving the group was bad, being rejected by Laios would be even worse. There was no way you could tell him now.
“Never mind. It’s probably best for me to leave. I wonder when Chilchuck will figure this damned trap out huh?” 
“Y/N?” 
“It’s already been like 30 minutes at least right?” you got up abruptly.
“Y/N.” 
“Maybe we should try and figure out a way to escape. They could have been ambushed.” you were now walking around the room looking for switches.
“I don’t think so, and even if they had been they would have taken care of any monsters we were only on the third floor. Why don’t you want to talk about this?”  He was still sitting on the ground
“I’m feeling restless.” your hands ran against the wall, looking intently at the grooves.
“But if we work it out then you may not have to leave? You just have to tell them.” He sounds a little breathless.
“They don’t like me, Laios. Not like that.” Your fingers find a loose piece of stone
“You figured out who it was?” He’s almost hopeful
“Yes.” you pick at the small rock
“But you won't tell them?” confused
“No.” you let it fall from the wall
“So you're still going to leave?” 
The rock sits still in the place it fell
“Yes.” 
“Will you look at me?” 
“No.” 
A beat passes 
“We don’t want you to leave.”
“You don’t know that. I’m sure you can find another decent party member to take my place.” 
“I don’t want you to leave.” 
“Maybe a Kobold, that would be cool.” 
“I don't want a Kobold, I want you.” 
“No you don’t.” 
“Don’t tell me what I want. I don't want another party member, it’s not even about losing a party member. I just want you. Don’t leave.” 
“You don’t want me Laios.” 
“I do.” 
“No, you don’t!” you whip around to look in his direction unable to fully look at him, tears have been collecting in your water line for a while now. “You don’t want me!” A tear finally spills, you take a deep breath in and look away “Not like I want you. So just… let me go. I will be fine, Laios.” you don't want to yell at him, you don’t want to be crying.  “God what is taking them so long.” putting your focus on the ceiling where you fell from. 
Calloused yet soft hands touch your face, you don't know how he got so close to you so fast. Or quietly for that matter with all that armor on. 
“Look at me, please.” 
You sniffled, letting your eyes turn down to meet his. He, noticeably, was not crying. He was smiling, softly, a blush adorned his cheeks. His eyes took in your face and a huff of breath escaped his lips. 
“It’s not funny, Laios.” scolding him. You had just basically confessed and now he was what? Amused by the fact you were crying?
“It kind of is. You see I have just realized we are probably two of the stupidest people in our party.” 
“You’re not stupid.” 
“No, I am. Because I have had you in front of me for how long? And I am just now realizing how much I like you. Marcille didn’t want to talk about her books. She was trying to make me realize my feelings for you. Chilchuck has been complaining about in party romances more lately, And Namari told me you were thinking about leaving and yet I couldn’t even let myself fathom being without you that I let you pull away from us, from me.” 
“What?” 
“And you’re stupid if you think I wouldn't reciprocate your feelings. You are so stunning and clever, well usually. You let me ramble about monsters and you always light up when you talk about cooking or other interests. Anyone would be lucky to be on the receiving side of your affection.”
“But you've never even shown the slightest interest in anything romantic before.”  
He nods while wiping at your tear stained cheeks with his thumb.
“It is rare, but it has happened before. Though it was never reciprocated, after that I kind of gave up. I focused on being a soldier, and being a good brother to Falin. It seemed like I would never have a chance to love, much less be loved like that.” he looked down and away but just for a second. “I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted.” 
“I can’t believe I didn't realize what it was before we fell in this stupid hole.” you giggled slightly
“I’m glad you did, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to do this.” 
“Hmm?” 
He softly placed his lips on yours. It was tentative, and unmoving. You pushed back lightly, letting your lips slot in with his.  
Above you the ceiling opened up, grabbing both of your attentions. 
“We should get our stuff.” you say. Slowly you pull away from each other and pick up your back packs. Hiding your flushed faces from view. 
~~~
It took a little bit of time but with some rope and climbing you were both able to get out of the hole. It seemed that the rest of the party also had lunch while you were in the trap. A part of you wanted to cuss them out for leaving you down there so long. The other part was grateful because now you had Laios and you got yourself back. Shuro was avoiding looking at the both of you but Chilchuck and Marcille seemed pretty smug.  
Smiling, Chilchuck finally spoke up “Sorry it took me so long, it was a very complicated mechanism.” Asshole. You glared at him as Laios spoke up.
“No it’s fine, but we did loose quite a bit of time we should probably move on if we want to make it to the fourth floor.” 
Everyone agreed and started to pack up and head out. While everyone was busy Laios grabbed your hand and gave it a slight squeeze. You would have to talk later but for now you felt lighter than you had in a while. You reminded yourself that you needed to rip up that notice and send out a letter to the other party. This one suited you just fine.
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sunshine-theseus · 6 months
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Mi Corazón | Olga Carmona x reader
Word Count: 2.4k Summary: you’re in the military, she plays football. You both have busy schedules, but you’ll always find time for each other. Warnings: angsty, fluffy. I’m learning Spanish but I don’t know an awful lot so I’m sorry if it’s incorrect😭, and if it’s a long conversation I’ll only write some things in Spanish. Request for: @thedarknessempress and @realsociadadferminofan - i'm pretty happy with this one so i hope you like it!
I hadn’t expected it to be this hard every single time. Of course I knew I’d miss my family and friends, but six months always felt longer than it seemed.
And then there was Olga. We already struggled to find time to ourselves before I was deployed but now it was a whole other issue. There were time zone struggles and she was getting ready for the World Cup while I was working with my platoon and showing people that I deserve my rank.
After years of work, I recently got promoted to Teniente (Lieutenant), so this mission was a big deal in proving to the higher ups that they hadn’t made the wrong decision. Olga understood but was reasonably upset that I wouldn’t be able to support her at the beginning of the World Cup, especially with the struggle the girls have had with the RFEF and Vilda.
The last time we spoke it was tense. Things were getting difficult in camp as they approached the quarter-finals and when I told her my deployment was being extended a few weeks, conveniently ending days after the finals, she broke.
“Qué? What do you mean it was extended?! Can they even do that? You promised you’d make it if we got this far!”
“I’m sorry Ol. You know I want to be there more than anything.”
“This keeps happening. How can I trust a promise when I know you could be deployed or called to work on some plan at any point?”
“Mi corazón, that is not fucking fair. You knew what me being in the Air Force entailed when you met me. I requested this time off specifically so I could be there but there was nothing anyone could do! They need me here. I’ll be able to use this for extra time off another time. Just for us.”
“But I need you here!” her voice shakes, and I nearly break; tell her ‘Fuck it I’m on my way’.
“Olga…”
“Vete a la mierda” were her final words and then the line goes dead. (fuck off)
That was over a week ago. I texted and called her more times than I can count. When she didn’t answerr the first few, I messaged Ona, asking her to at least update me on how she’s going.
‘She is ok, very sad.’ Is the first message I get in return from said left back.
‘Felicidades!’ they win their quarter-final match (congratulations)
‘She is missing you’ is what I get in return.
‘can you tell her I miss her too?’ I don’t get a reply that night and her updates continue to be few and far between as they progress through the semi-finals all the way to the finals, against England.
~~~~~
“Deja de mirar tu teléfono” Alexia scolds me as I stare at the picture of Olga, Ona and Alexia, arm in arm together after their semi-final win (stop looking at your phone)
“What if she doesn’t want to see me Ale?”
“No seas estúpida! She loves you, she is just upset. Maybe saying your deployment got extended was not your best idea.” she chuckles as I glare at her, sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs right behind the substitution bench. (don’t be stupid)
“I didn’t know how else to surprise her.”
“They are coming out! Pull down your cap so she cannot see you.”
“I’m still in uniform Ale. If she doesn’t recognise the outfit, she won’t recognise me.”
“Oh, just do it!” I follow the pink haired girl’s instructions and slouch in my chair.
But then I see her. For the first time in 6 months, I see her and all I want to do was run onto the pitch and pick her up and kiss her. But I can’t, I refuse to ruin the surprise after literally risking my relationship for it.
My soul focus the entire game is Olga. The way she seems so free when she plays, the way she moves. When she scores the first, and only, goal of the game and pulls up her jersey to reveal the name of her best friend’s mother I nearly cry. Even in one of her biggest moments, she honours the other people in her life.
The final whistle blows, and we cheer as the girls fall to their knees and hug each other, others comforting the English girls. After a minute or so, Ona runs over to pull Alexia and I over the barricade and I rush over to stand behind Olga who is hugging Esther, who catches a glimpse of me and smiles before pulling away from the hug.
“Felicidades mi corazón!” (Congratulations my heart)
“Qué?” she whips around at the sound, and I don’t get to say anything else before she’s jumping into my arms.
“You’re here? But y- your mission got extended?”
“Is that what I said? Whoops! I meant to say ‘I’ll be here’.” I kiss her on the forehead, then set her back down and she slaps my arm before glancing at her team.
“Go celebrate, I’m not going anywhere.” Olga hugs me once more before going to hug her teammates and comfort some of the other players, a large smile on her face.
I then stand with the other family and friends, Alexia’s arm tightly around me, as the team is presented their medals and the trophy.
Joy is rushing through until I witness Rubiales kiss Jenni, but I try to focus on the win, catching Olga as she comes barrelling back toward me after they take team photos.
“I’m sorry for yelling on the phone. And ignoring you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”
“But you didn’t even know if we would win the semis.”
“Mm I’m kind of psychic, I actually knew ages ago.” Olga giggles and pushes me lightly.
Then her family approaches us, sadness looming behind their smiles. I leave them alone to talk but it doesn’t take long for Olga to fall into my arms as she cries.
“Shh mi vida. What’s wrong?” I hold her tight as I rock us back and forth, rubbing her back.
“Mi papa murió” I stop abruptly and pull away, taking her face in my hands as I stare in shock. (my dad died)
“Qué? Cuando?” (What? When?)
“Viernes.” (Friday)
“What do you mean Friday? No one told you?” she only shakes her head before pulling me back into her.
“Lo siento mucho Ol. I’m so sorry. He would have been so proud” (very sorry)
~~~~~
We get back to Madrid after celebrations with the team. The funeral is a few days after and I spend most of the time taking care of Olga, refusing to let her do anything she doesn’t need to. Most mornings I make her breakfast, then wait to see if she wants to do any activities, then finish off the day by making dinner.
I then decided we both deserved a small holiday, so I brought her to my hometown, Dénia, on Spain’s east coast.
“Bebé! Do you have the towels?” Olga shouts from the door as I struggle to pull on my second sandal.
“Sí! I’ve got everything, don’t worry.” I walk towards her and peck her on the lips before opening the door, ushering her out.
Olga swings our hands back and forth between us as we make our way down to the beach from our hotel.
“Can we build sandcastles?” she looks at me with those big, whiskey brown eyes and I find it impossible to deny her anything.
“Of course we can.” And so we set up a spot, and while she gathers some water, I start packing sand into our buckets.
Every now and then a kid comes up to us, asking for a photo with the ‘Heroe de Fútbol’ who got us that trophy. Other kids have no idea who she is and just want to help us build a big ass sandcastle, and we tell them jokes and play into whatever fantasy they’ve made for the structure.
‘y las dos princesas se casan y viven felices para siempre!’ the little girl finishes her story. (and the two princesses get married and live happily ever after)
Lucia, as we learned her name was, quickly switched the prince for a princess after momentarily being confused when she asked if we were ‘friends or friends’. Her mum tried to apologise but Olga laughed and just took hold of my hand as we listen to the story.
Not long after saying goodbye to the girl and her mum, Olga and I pack up and head back.
“What do you want to do tonight bebé?” I ask as I unlock the door.
“Movie night? All those kid stories make me want to watch Disney.”
“As long as we get to watch The Princess and The Frog”. I head to the kitchen to start on dinner when I feel Olga’s arms wrap around me and I turn around.
“What’s up?” I stare down into her eyes, so full of love.
“Thank you. For coming home early and for this holiday, for taking care of me.”
“I’ll always take care of you mi corazón, even if I have to get dishonourably discharged, if you need me, I’ll be here. And if I really can’t be, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” I lean down and capture her lips in my own, our love for each other radiates through the kiss.
“Te amo.” She pecks my lips again (I love you)
“Te amo.” I turn back around to continue with dinner and Olga curls into my side, following me around the kitchen, always leaning on me.
It can be so hard to find time like this together so when we have it, neither of us want to be apart from the other. I never want to be apart from her.
~~~~~
Our holiday goes on for another couple of days, and we decide for our last night we would have a romantic dinner at Mala Vita, a restaurant in the Marina, overlooking the water.
“Are you ready?!” I yell through the bathroom door, waiting for Olga to finish getting ready.
I’m about to knock again when the door creaks open and Olga steps out.
I choke as I catch sight of her. Her satin red dress clings to her perfectly, her muscles are softly defined, and her loose hair frames her face. Her heels make her taller, but she still has to lean up to plant a kiss on my cheek as my mouth continues to gap open.
“Perfecta hermosa! Elegante!” I kiss her with every word before we head down to the taxi, my arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders. (Perfect beautiful! Elegant!)
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She lightly pokes me in the side as she takes in my own outfit.
When we arrive at the restaurant, it’s golden hour, and Olga begs to do a small photoshoot, asking an older couple to take some photos of us together.
I hold her close and look her in the eyes before dipping her, both of us laughing as the older lady cheers and takes a photo.
Then Olga turns her back to me as she adjusts her hair, and I drop to one knee and hold out an object that could change everything. I see the couple smile to each other and continuously take photos from Olga’s phone out of the corner of my eye. I smile to myself, I hope to one day be like them, with the girl in front of me.
It takes Olga a few moments to turn around, ready to hug me. It then takes her a few more moment to realise I’m not standing in front of her, her eyes dropping to meet mine as I grin up at her. Her hands are then quick to cover her mouth.
“Olga Carmona García, you are the light of my life, and I would do anything for you. When you kicked a football into my face, I couldn’t even imagine this is where we would be 2 and a half years later. I am more in love with you than I have ever loved anything in my life. I want to grow old with you and love you for eternity. Por favor hazme la mujer más feliz del mundo y sé mi esposa” in mere moments Olga falls to her knees, pulls me in and kisses me passionately. (please make me the happiest woman in the world and be my wife)
“Sí! Sí, lo haré!” she cries as I slip the ring on and kiss her again. (Yes! Yes I will!)
“Sois una hermosa pareja” the lady says as she hands Olga’s phone back to her. (You are a beautiful couple)
“Gracias.” We wave goodbye to the couple before heading into the restaurant.
“I love you so much.” Olga whispers as she takes my hand, admiring the ring on her other hand.
“Not as much as I love you.” I kiss her forehead before we sit down.
“I have another surprise…”
“Qué?” her head quirks to the side in that adorable way that makes my heart clench, and I know what I’m about to say will be the best decision of my life.
“I got offered a job..” I can tell Olga is about to ask how this is a good surprise, so I rush on.
“As a lead trainer of the Air Force Academy in Madrid.” I grin at her, waiting for her to react.
“W- what does that mean?”
“I’ll be in Madrid permanently, unless of course you move clubs, then I’ll move. But most importantly we’ll have more guaranteed time together.”
“But your dream has been to be a high rank in the Air Force for basically ever!” I can see her begin to look distraught.
“It was my dream. But I’ll never want anything more than to be with you. And being in the Air Force basically guarantees we only ever have 6 months, if that, together every year. I don’t know about you, but I can’t live without you for that long for the rest of my life.”
“I can’t either.” I take her hand.
“I want this Olga, I promise. And if I get bored of being on the ground, I can always become a commercial pilot. Then I’ll always be a captain.” I smile reassuringly at the love of my life.
“Siempre serás mi capitana.” I lean over the table and kiss her once more. (You will always be my captain).
“Te amo.” She whispers as we part.
“Te amo mi corazón.”
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xhollandlilsx · 1 year
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Red Card - (Leah Williamson x Reader)
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Concept- Leah and Y/N have been broken up for months, but things kick off when Leah gets jealous during the game against Y/Ns team.
Warnings - Injuries.
People, break up and makeup.
They fallout, fix it, kiss and carry on. But for Leah and I, we had done that for the last time. We ended things for good a little over 3 months ago, agreeing that we couldn’t keep on the way we were. The constant arguing, the overprotection from Leah and towards the end the lack of trust.
After my signing for Manchester United, after being the top goal scorer in the league, that’s when everything started to go downhill, fans would release photos of Alessia and I, saying how cute of a couple we would be, or fake stories about how a ‘close source’ had admitted we were seeing eachother, despite Leah and I being open about our relationship. It all got too much for the two of us, so I travelled down to London, and we both came to a decision.
It took me over a month to feel a little bit like myself again, Lucy was my saving grace throughout, I had been friends with her since our parents used to go on holidays and we’d find any grass we could and kick the ball back and forth, showing off. She FaceTimed me nearly every day, and forced me to get up.
**********
“You got everything in that bag, Mary Poppins?” Ella asked as I walked over toward where some of the girls were waiting outside the coach, I let a smirk cross my face and patted the duffel bag I had on my shoulder.
“Alright, leave my bag alone. I like to be prepared for anything.” I replied with a shrug and stuffing my hands in my pockets.
“What, like a natural disaster? You got a lifetime of food in there?” She laughed slightly as I raised my middle and index finger, telling her to fuck off.
“We all ready?” Marc asked holding a clipboard and looking over all of us like we were kids on a school trip.
“Are you ready?” Ona asked, whispering slightly to me as she was stood behind me, I knew why she’d asked, because of who we were travelling to play. Arsenal.
I smiled a thin lipped smile before following Tooney onto the coach, sitting next to her as Alessia and Mary sat the other side. I tried to drown out the thoughts that were now flooding my mind, and the anxiety that made me feel sick at the thought of even seeing her face again.
I threw my headphones in and threw my pre game playlist on, it mostly consisted of rock, rage against the machine, AC/DC, Def Leppard so on and so forth.
I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone so they’d start a conversation.
*********
The 4 hour coach journey wasn’t too bad, I’d managed to somewhat calm my nerves, doing some affirmations, repeating to myself that I’m Y/N fucking Y/L/N. What have I got to be nervous about?
The coach pulled up in the carpark and I could see fans waiting behind the fences next to us, my eyes scanned them as I saw a fair amount of United shirts, I smiled and waved before walking over, something we weren’t supposed to do, but I hated the fact they’d waited there for us and nobody’s going over.
They all near screamed when I went over, I smiled and shook a few hands, saying a few hi’s, taking photos and signing one persons shirt. One of the Arsenal security men did come over and try to usher me inside faster.
“You’re such a softy for fans” Ella smiled slightly as she sat on the bench in the changing rooms putting her shin pads and socks on. I kept my puffer jacket on, the badge still over my heart, and my joggers with my initials and number 11 on them. I threw my shins on under my joggers and threw my socks and spare boots on. I rolled my socks right down so they were bunched around my ankles and tied my laces.
“Well I don’t like ignoring them. They came all this way to support us. And waited, it’s cold Ella” I laughed slightly before standing up and pulling the shorter girl with me. I wasn’t too tall, sitting at 5’7, which was a good average compared to some.
“In all seriousness, you ready?” She asked as we walked out of the tunnel toward the other end of the pitch to warm up both carrying our bottles. The Arsenal players were already out here warming up on the opposite side. It took everything in me not to look over, to look for her. I restrained myself, knowing eventually I’d have to see her, being a forward, but as of now, I need to pretend she’s not there. Keep my focus.
“I’m fine El. Grab a ball.” I nodded to her as Alessia walked over too, the three of us throwing our bottle off to the side while we waited for the rest of our team to come out and for one of the trainers.
We started kicking it in a triangle, talking as the stand filled up, I threw my hands in my pockets of my coat as I could feel them starting to freeze, only taking them out to smooth out my hair, my well known two braids into a bun.
“Okay girls, two lines behind the cones” We warmed up, all just taking the piss out of eachother, usual banter for us, before heading back inside the tunnel and to the changing room.
**********
We got into position after Marc announced the starting eleven. As usual I was upfront, we had kick off so I stood with the ball at my feet, my arms freezing off, but knowing I’d warm up after a while, as I love running laps around players.
The whistle blew and the game was off, I passed to Katie, who held it and waited for the Arsenal players to get stuck in. I found myself stood next to Laura, as I nudged her playfully, I had played for Arsenal for years, they were still like a family to me, and I stayed good friends with a few of them, especially Beth and Viv, it was difficult for them not to ask Leah and I about eachother but they tried their best.
“Ella. Ella!” I shouted to her as we were waiting for McCabe to take the throw in, my voice carrying, and harsh, I always sounded angry and authorative, the winger looked at me as I motioned for her to fall back slightly, to which she did, but when the throw in was taken she threw it to Viv who was unmarked, someone who should’ve been picked up by a defender, “Hey where were we?!”
I watched as Ona dealt with it and passed to Ella who carried it as far as she could up the pitch, before passing to me as I was running with her, I wasn’t vain or anything but I knew I was faster than any of the defenders at Arsenal, I was a fast runner to say the least.
I began to dribble forward towards where Zinsberger was waiting with open arms, when I saw a flash of red in the corner of my eye, and a slide tackle came at me, I knew exactly who it was, so when I saw her about to go down for it, I chipped the ball up and jumped forward over her, fast thinking, the thinking that got me nominated for a fair amount of awards. Once clear of her I kicked the ball into the top left corner, only cheering once I knew it had hit the net.
I felt Alessia run over and jump on my back, she had been running with me the entire time, just marked. I smiled and cheered as the fans erupted. I set her down as Tooney came running over and high fived me. I ran back into position high fiving a few of my team on the way, my eyes wandering to her, she looked like she was trying to hide her anger, as she walked back into her position, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. I still felt that anxious feeling but it wasn’t so bad anymore. She was staring at where Alessia’s hand was still on my shoulder.
My heart hurt though, regardless of what happened when we were together or how long we’ve been apart, I still loved her. My heart beat for that girl. That was until the 86th minute, when that flash of red took me off my feet in one of the dirtiest tackles I’d ever seen. Leah could be quite aggressive at times, but I never thought she’d pull something like this, no matter how angry she was.
I felt the air get knocked out of me as I rolled onto my back trying to breathe. Searing pain coming from my side, I felt someone land at my side, Alessia. I was slightly panicking. I had been winded before but never like this. I glanced at the blonde defender once where she stood with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth, not realising what she’d just done in blind rage.
The ref called for the medics as a few of the Arsenal players pulled Leah away and were all shocked at her behaviour. I covered my face with my arm as I tried to take at least one breath that wasn’t cut short.
“Y/N, I’m just gonna lift your shirt is that okay?“ The medic asked as she crouched down beside me, I nodded still not being able to speak, and gripping Alessia’s hand for dear life.
They pulled my shirt up their knuckle grazing my side ever so slightly making me let out a strangled yell, catching the attention of most players on the pitch, everyone looking over wanting to know what the damage was.
“Yeah..” The medic sighed, before waving the others over and signalling for them to get the stretcher. I couldn’t move my torso at the moment, my eyes watered knowing I’d be out for a while, as I let my head fall to the side seeing Leah stood there wiping her eyes, pushing anyone away who tried to touch her.
*********
“Knock knock” I heard someone announce before walking in, it was Ella, she stood there with a sympathetic smile and a bunch of flowers. I smiled and shook my head, “I’ve come take you home”
“Thankyou” I nodded sitting up, hissing in pain, and reaching for my shirt, seeing as though I was just in a sports bra and a big patch of gauze and tape on the right side of my torso. I could see some of the immediate bruising peeking over the top of it.
“How you feeling?” She asked as I stood up from the bed, holding my shirt in my hand.
“Like my ex just fractured two of my ribs.” I sighed with a slight smile, if I didn’t laugh I’d cry.
“Yeah, that was behind anything I’d seen before Y/N/N.” She shrugged, as another knock came from the door and Ella opened it, her face falling as she nodded for the blonde to come in.
“You’ve got some nerve” I shook my head as Ella slipped out of the room without another word obviously not wanting to be in the middle.
“I know, Y/N I’m so sorry I-“
“Sorry ain’t fixing this Leah. Sorry was when you’d accuse me of sleeping with Alessia. Sorry was when you’d call me when angry and drunk at 3am, this isn’t sorry Leah.” I shook my head as she looked down at my torso, where the abs I was so proud of were slightly covered. Her face going pale at the sight of the gauze.
“I know… I messed up, I did and I don’t know how I can fix it.”
“You can’t.” I reached for my shirt and pulled it on wincing and trying to control my breathing while pulling it down, I let out a sigh as she looked down, before looking out the window at the street lights, the time sitting at around 11pm, “I can’t play for 6 weeks.”
My eyes watered, as her face contorted into a look of pain and guilt as she looked away closing her eyes, she knew how much football meant to me. I lived and breathed it.
“I can’t play, and it’s your fault Leah. My god, you know I wanted to talk to you after the game. To tell you, I don’t even know what I wanted to tell you anymore. But now? Leah, in the past 4 months you’ve taken away the only two things my heart beats for…”
“Two?”
“Just go” I shook my head and turned away from her, I heard some shuffling and a pause before, the door opened and closed, allowing me to finally let the tears flow.
Part 2?
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ladymunson · 1 year
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The Boardroom 18+
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Fic Summary: After your encounter with Bucky in his house you’re surprised to find out he’s your new boss. His assistant Mary is about to retire and he’s looking for a someone new to take the position. Another co-worker has her sights on the job but Bucky only has eyes for you, much to her chagrin.
A/N: Thank you for the support for part one and sorry it’s taken so long to post part two. I really wanted to get this right.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, sex in the workplace, unequal power dynamic, drama.
Word count: 2803
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“Y/N wait!” Bucky calls out as you leave the meeting room. You stop and turn around as everyone else files out. Angela gives you the evil eye as she walks past.
“Yes sir?” You say, not making eye contact.
“Please don’t do that. I’m so sorry, I had no idea you worked here.” He says.
“What happened between us will not happen again.” You say in a hushed voice. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment. I’m also going to invest in some blinds, it’s not appropriate for that to continue.”
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Six weeks later
“Hey there y/n” your college Mary, Bucky’s personal assistant says as you’re pouring your morning coffee. “Do you have a minute to talk in my office?”
“Of course!” You say as you follow her. Her office is decorated in florals and pastels, very feminine but homely.
“Please shut the door hon.” Mary says, your stomach drops. Are you in trouble? You shut the door and proceed to her desk. “Take a seat.” You oblige and sit down, your heart pumping wildly and your palms beginning to sweat.
“Is everything okay?” You ask.
“Everything is wonderful actually, no one knows this yet but I’m retiring at the end of the month.” Mary says with a smile.
“What?!” You say open mouthed. “Why? And why are you telling me before anyone else?”
“Well… someone needs to replace me as Mr Barnes assistant and I wanted to offer the position to you before I announce.”
“Me?!” You ask, shocked.
“I’ve seen how much of a hard worker you are, even though you’ve not been here long. I see you take great care and pride in everything you do and that’s exactly what this job needs.”
“Doesn’t this need to go through HR first?”
Mary sighs. “I’d rather not, I already know that everyone who applies will get turned down.” You raise your eyebrow in question. “Angela set her sights on James the moment she found out he was taking over from his father. She would instantly put herself in the position, and attempt to put herself in his bed. He’s like my nephew and I just couldn’t let that harpy get to him.”
“If he wanted to bed her, then that‘s his decision.” You reply.
“He doesn’t want to y/n but she won’t take no for an answer, she’s tried to get her claws into him for the past three years when he’s attended company functions with his father. I really want you to take this job, not just because you’re a great worker but you’re also professional.”
“Can I think about it?”
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Five days later
“Why did you pick her for the job? What has she got that I don’t?!” Angela pouts as she confronts Mary in her office after the announcement of her retirement.
“I would say it’s nothing personal Angela but that would be a lie. I made my decision, you need to respect it.” Mary replies as she folds her arms across her chest.
Angela scoffs, “We’ll see how long she lasts, Bucky can be SO demanding.” She smirks before exiting Mary’s office.
Mary let’s out a sigh before picking up the phone and dialling Bucky’s number.
“Barnes.” He answers.
“James we have a problem.”
“Let me guess, Angela?” He responds.
“She’s gonna make y/n’s life miserable…”
“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”
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The next morning
“What’s this?” You ask as Bucky hands you a brand new smartphone.
“I’ll need to be able to get ahold of you at all times and all instructions and duties will come from this new number. If anyone tells you I’ve asked you to do something, you can ask me on this number. And don’t tell anyone about it, except Mary.”
“Why would…? Ah. Angela?” You ask. Bucky nods and leaves your office.
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One week later
Bucky- I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight, we have a meeting.
You- How late?
Bucky- Meeting is at 8pm.
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You’re thirty minutes early for the meeting, training as Bucky’s assistant has been gruelling but tonight, you have to set up the conference room. Having this meeting at 8pm means you skipped dinner to be here, it’s that important. If you can land this contract it will be a huge thing for the company, there may even be a pay rise in it for some of us.
You place your bag on a chair and get to work. You use the key to open the supply cupboard and take out a brand new pack of note pads and a new box of pens. You open the note pads and place one on the table in front of every chair and a pen on top of each pad. Next are the water glasses which you place around the table, the refrigerator in the corner of the room is stocked with bottles of water which will be distributed when the meeting begins.
You hear Bucky come into the office, so you quickly grab your bag and run into the ladies room. In the bathroom you change from flats into heels and check your hair. The elegant chignon from this morning has lost its setting so you decide to remove the clips, letting it loose and cascading around your shoulders. You grab my brush out of your bag and run it through your hair, the chignon has left your hair with a bouncy curl which looks really cute. You check your dress, making sure there are no stains on the white of the fabric. Once satisfied you grab a lipstick out of your bag and apply the dusky rose colour to your lips. You usually wear nude lipstick to the office but changed your bag this morning, leaving this colour as your only choice. The colour isn’t very bold which is great so it will do.
You exit the bathroom and head back to the conference room, passing by his office quickly. “Y/N?” You hear him call.
“Yes Mr Barnes” you reply from the conference room doorway.
“Can you please make sure there are note pads and pens around the table? And make sure you set out a place for yourself, I need you to stay and take notes for me.” He calls from his office.
“Pads and pens already set out sir and I’ll add a place for me.”
“Thank you!”
You head to your office and grab your iPad, taking notes on that will be much easier. Then you head back to the conference room and place it at the end of the table, opposite his place. You also get yourself a glass.
He walks into the room, looking at his phone “Y/N they’re arriving now, is everything...?” He trails off as he looks up at you, his mouth slightly gaped. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down at the office... pretty” That last word sounded like it should’ve been a personal thought but you don’t draw attention to it.
“Thank you sir. Is there anything else you need before the elevator arrives?” You ask. He shakes his head as you hear the ding and the doors open.
“James...” the first man exiting the elevator says, extending his hand to him.
He shakes his hand. “How are you Bob?” Several other people get out of the elevator behind Mr Kellerman, he always travels with an entourage.
“Can’t complain. Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” Mr Kellerman walks into the conference room and takes a seat in the middle of the table with his back to the window. His assistant Ms Deacon sits to his right and the other members of the party take seats around the table. You get up from your place at the table and get the bottles of water out of the refrigerator, handing them out.
You can feel someone looking at you, like their eyes are boring through you. You ignore it before taking a seat and opening the notes app on your iPad.
The meeting gets underway, you follow everything that’s being said, writing in code so you can interpret them later.
As you listen to Bucky speak, you realise how incredibly sexy his voice is, shifting slightly in your seat and noticing the dampness in your panties. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you try to erase the thoughts of him slamming you up against the wall and taking you hard and fast out of your mind. You open your eyes and look up straight into his baby blues, you feel the dampness grow as your eyes lock, the small moan he lets out causing you to soak your panties.
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You stand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, may I be excused?” You ask.
He licks his lips and nods his head. You head to the bathroom, stepping into the stall and locking the door behind you. You lean against it, “fuck!” You whisper as you shimmy out of your underwear. You have no spares in your bag so you’re gonna have to go without underwear.
You throw the panties on the floor behind the toilet to collect later and flush, stepping out of the cubicle and washing your hands.
When you get back in the conference room, they all have beaming smiles. “What did I miss?”
He smiles at you. “We reached an agreement to combine our companies!” You smile and clap.
“That’s fantastic! I’m looking forward to working with you Mr Kellerman.” You respond as you shake his hand.
“I might have to steal your new assistant away from you James, she’s marvellous. And may I say very easy on the eye!”
“Y/N will be staying here Bob” he chuckles and waves goodbye, his fans following suit. The elevator doors close and Bucky lets out a huge sigh.
You’re already clearing up the table when he comes back in. Gasping at the sight of you bending over it. You hear footsteps behind you but you don’t turn, thinking he is going to help clean up.
He stands behind you, eyeing up your ass bent over the table. You move slightly on your feet and he moans. Thoughts race through your mind, should I? You take a deep breath and move back ever so slightly until your ass grazes him, you feel his erection straining through his pants. He groans and reaches out, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him. You gasp.
“Mr Barnes!” He thrusts his hips forward, jerking you upright. He spins you around and grabs the back of your head, possessing your mouth with his.
Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth. You return his kiss as he grabs your ass, lifting you onto the table, opening your legs and moving between them. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and continues the kiss, loosening his tie before removing it. Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, undoing them quickly, eager to get him shirtless. You pull his shirt off of his shoulders and throw it across the room. Then unbutton his pants, pushing them down, freeing his raging hard on. He steps out of them and moves them out of the way.
Bucky’s hand slips up your dress, he moans as he finds you bare pussy, wet and ready. He pulls you to your feet and reaches around to the back of your dress to undo the zipper, slipping it down your arms and watching it fall to the floor below you. He lifts you back onto the table and kicks the dress away, his hands caressing your breasts as he kisses you again.
He pushes you onto your back and kneels, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He blows gently, making you sigh in pleasure, then kisses your inner thighs. Before placing his entire mouth over your mound, sucking hard. You moan and groan, your head rolling side to side as you play with your breasts.
Bucky releases your pussy from his mouth and licks his lips. He opens you up with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your hard bud. “Ohhhhh... fuck!” You moan out, as his tongue continues it’s relentless flicking over your clit. You can feel an orgasm building deep inside you, your pussy creaming at the thought of an orgasm. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks, gently flicking his tongue over your bean. Your hand reaches down and grabs the back of Bucky’s head, grinding your pussy on his face, chasing your orgasm. It hits hard, making your hips jerk involuntarily and your toes curl. You ride the waves of pleasure, body convulsing in climax, his tongue still licking as the spasms subside.
Bucky stands, evidence of your orgasm running down his chin. You sit up and pull him to you, kissing him passionately, tasting yourself on his kiss.
You jump down off the table, your juices running down your legs as you kneel in front of him. Licking the precum off of his cock, then lifting his cock up to lick from his balls up the underside of his cock to the tip and back down again. You repeat that three times before taking his cock in your mouth, taking it to the back of your throat. His hand grips the back of your head and holds you in place as he shoves his cock in and out of your mouth. He groans as you suck his cock, he grabs ahold of your hair and pulls you to your feet.
Bucky spins you around, bending you over the table and wets the tip of his cock with your slick before sliding inside you. He grabs your hips and begins moving in and out. Your breasts are pressed against the table, hands splayed out in front of you as his hips thrust hard, he grunts as you use your inner muscles to squeeze around his cock.
That releases Bucky’s inner beast and he reaches out with his left hand to grab your hair, pulling you back into him hard. His right hand spanking your ass, leaving red hand prints as his relentless fucking almost splits you in two. You moan again and again as he pounds you, he reaches around to grab you throat making you cum hard around his cock. He chokes you as his fucking becomes primal, you can tell he’s seconds away from coming.
“Fuck me Sir!” You shout, he growls as his orgasm hits and he shoots his load into you, before it drips out and onto the conference room floor.
He turns your head to kiss you, breathing hard. “Well... that was unexpected”
You giggle. “Yes it was Sir” He spins you around and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your back. Compared to how he just fucked you, this was intimate, sweet.
“I’d like to do that again if you’re interested.” He says as he places a kiss on your forehead.
“Now?” You ask.
“No not right now, but again. And again.” He says as he bends to pick up his pants and your dress. He throws your dress onto the table next to you.
“We really shouldn’t!” You reply, “Even if I really want to.” He smiles and get begins to get dressed. You sit on the table and watch him before starting to get dressed yourself.
“I’ve changed my mind...” Bucky says. You sigh, disappointed. “Yes now” You look confused. “I’m going to fuck you again, right now!” He grabs the dress out of your hands and throws it to the end of the table and steps between your legs. He grabs your head and kisses you deeply as he spears your still dripping pussy with his cock.
You let out a moan, he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, then your legs around his waist.
“Hold on tight!” He says as he begins thrusting his hips hard, making you bounce off the table. He kisses you passionately as he pounds into you, chasing his orgasm...
TO BE CONTINUED
Tags: @jobean12-blog @eddiesprincess86 @bettyfrommars @pattiemac1 @jadeylovesmarvelxo @existenciosa
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erodasfishtacos · 2 years
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the new one shot is incredible! loved to see them in a different situation that we aren’t used to. I’d like to know how did their parents react when they told them they were expecting knowing they were really young and his professional career just started!
Always Be My Baby
prompt: how harry’s family reacts to the pregnancy announcement
warnings: angst, smut, minors dni 18+
if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!
i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.
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YN was much more nervous than Harry as they pull up to Anne’s house in their rented car - she was overly excited by their last minute trip up to their little lake house with them.
“Darling, can hear you worrying from here,” Harry chuckles softly as he navigates the unpaved, long twisting driveway back into the heavily forested property.
Since he’d found out she way pregnant, he’d been obsessed with her belly (even more so than before), there wasn’t much to show quite yet - just a little pudge of her lower stomach.
His hand constantly was on it, when they drove, it was one hand on the wheel and the other on her tummy, thumbing at the skin.
“I just- we should have told her we were getting married and now we’re going to drop the bombshell that we’re expecting a baby and we eloped,” YN replies with a quiver in her tone, she loved Anne and Gemma, the last thing she had ever wanted to do was upset them or make them feel excluded.
YN also already knew that Gemma had the tendency to react strongly to news she didn’t like - blunt and unfiltered.
“If they’re angry about it, I’ll take the heat. I’ll always protect you, y’know? You and our bub,” Harry reminds her as he shifts the car into park and leans over the console to give her a firm kiss, “No more worrying, s’not good for our baby, yeah?”
Harry had thrived since the draft, since they moved, and since he found out he was going to be a dad - he was so family-oriented and ready to be the man they needed him to be.
“Harry-“ YN huffs unsettled, feeling a bit like he’s writing her emotions off.
He understands right away, mimicking her pout before murmuring, “Sweetheart, are you happy with the decision we made? Getting married at the courthouse, just you and I?”
YN’s brow furrows in confusion, “Of course, I am. Wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way than that.”
“Okay, we’ll then at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. We did what is right for us, if they aren’t supportive than that’s on them but I can’t imagine they won’t be. Maybe just a bit surprised,” Harry reasons, his thumb dragging along her bottom lip before he is kissing her once more like he can’t help it.
-
Anne starts to get suspicious almost instantly, call it a motherly instinct but YN seems a bit flighty and Harry is overcompensating by being way too friendly to Gemma.
When Anne suggests they take a swim in the lake before dinner, YN refuses nearly instantly, and says didn’t feel up to it after the travel.
Gemma catches it when Harry’s hand subconsciously gravitates towards YN’s stomach multiple times before he’s quickly moving it to her hip instead.
As Anne lays out the spread of food, hamburgers and hotdogs from the grill, YN is nearly melted into Harry’s side - trying to get as close as possible.
YN is barely pecking at her pasta salad that Anne made just because she loves it so much usually but obviously not right now.
“Is everything okay?” Anne finally ventures, putting her wine glass down and looking seriously between the two.
“Mum,” Harry cuts in, dropping his hamburger back onto his plate, “YN and I have something we would like to tell you.”
“Oh my goodness, did you propose?” Anne smiles widely, she knows that Harry had been discussing it since after their first date.
“Er, I did,” Harry rubs the back of his neck before taking a deep breathe and spitting it out, “I proposed about two months ago.”
YN feels her heart drop into her stomach already when Anne and Gemma’s face drops.
“We got married two weeks ago,” Harry continues, his voice wavering like it normally never done, his hand squeezing YN’s thigh in an attempt to reassure her.
“You…? I’m so confused, Harry,” Anne replies carefully, trying to keep her expression neutral to hide the shock.
“We’re pregnant,” Harry tells them, “We found out about two months ago, right after we came home from Miami. I proposed and we got married two weeks ago at the city courthouse.”
Anne’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, Gemma’s mouth is literally gaped open in blatant shock.
Anne is a good mother though, so she tapers down the hurt from not being included and nearly whispers to YN, “You’re pregnant?”
YN is tearful, nodding as water bubbles in her eyes.
“You’re too young,” Gemma mumbles with a furrowed brow, “What kind of scheme is this? Are you trying to trap him?”
She then tacks on, “S’what it sounds like to me. How on earth would Harry want a baby at twenty-one?”
Harry’s heart shatters for his wife when she bursts out in tears at the accusation.
It was untrue, hurtful, disgusting.
“Gemma, enough,” Anne orders with extreme firmness, disappointment lacing her tone because of whatever her daughter had the nerve to say, “You do not get to just sa-“
Harry’s rage is already at a ten, he’s pushing himself away from the table - unbothered when his drink toppled over and spills down Gemma’s shirt.
“The fuckin’ nerve you have,” Harry laughs in disbelief at his normally supportive sister, “How fuckin’ dare you speak to my wife like that.”
If YN wasn’t so distraught she would have basked in the usage of wife but right now she didn’t feel like she could catch a breath.
“We’re leaving,” He announces in a tight, rumbling voice as he helps YN by pulling her chair out and his full instinct right now is to protect his wife and his baby.
“Harry, we can work this out,” Anne interjects, upset and tearful herself, she didn’t want to watch her children come at each other like this, “You were planning on staying for three days.”
“And I’ll find us a hotel,” He argues before he’s giving his sister one more dirty look, he’s handing YN the car keys and murmurs, “Go to the car, I’ll be out in a mo’.”
YN nods, sheepishly giving everyone a wave before quickly leaving the room - they all are silent until the front door closes.
“Listen, I’ve let you talk to me like that for way too long,” Harry tells his sister seriously, “And it’s not going to happen anymore. I will not allow you to talk to my wife like that.”
Gemma scoffs, picking at her nails like she’s unbothered, “Wife? We get it Harry, you’re married. How much did she have to pressure you to propose? Was it before or after she “accidentally” got pregnant”
Harry could tell her how he got down on one knee as soon as she told him that she was pregnant - how much surprise had crossed YN’s face at it.
“Do you not realize it takes two to make a baby, Gemma?” Harry knows he’s raising his voice, “Explain to me how it’s solely her responsibility that she’s pregnant? Because last time I check, she’s pregnant because of me.”
“Enough!” Anne finally shouts, at her wits end with her two children as she slams her hand on the table to stop the argument.
“If you don’t get your fuckin’ head on right, you’re not going to be involved in my child’s life,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t an empty threat, “Because YN and my baby are my top priority now.”
With that, Harry’s turning on his heel, and storming out the front door - making sure it rattles on its hinges as he leaves.
Harry makes his way out to their rented SUV, opening the passenger side door, and pulling YN into the tightest hug he can muster, “I am so sorry, sweet girl.”
YN is sobbing into his chest, her whole body shaking as she tries to be speak, “I di-didn’t purposefully get preg-pregnant. I would never try to trap you.”
Harry knows that YN is trying to talk through it because being accused of that had never even crossed her mind.
“Listen to me,” Harry says seriously, tilting her chin up and meeting her watery eyes, “I never ever thought that. We both knew you weren’t being consistent with your pills that week. I knew there was a chance and if I would have been concerned, I would have wore a condom and I didn’t. You are not the only one responsible for this pregnancy.”
“I just want to go home,” YN replies quietly, glancing towards the floor with sadness and disappointment interwoven between her words.
“I’ll change the flight to tomorrow, we’ll stay in a hotel tonight, and the go home, okay?” Harry reassures her, wiping the tears from her cheeks, “I love you, more than anything. Please forgive me.”
YN’s eyes meet his once again, confused, “Forgive you? You did nothing wrong and your family was right to question me.”
“No, they were not bloody right to question you,” Harry argues softly, hands moving down to cradle her belly, “They had no business asking us about why you got pregnant. Let’s get you to a hotel, just want to run you a nice bath and hold you.”
“I love you,” YN sniffles, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Best husband ever, you know?”
“Now I’ve really got to get you there, you know every time you call me your husband - I get so fucking hard,” He smirks wolfishly, breaking the tension and making his wife giggle.
-
Harry finds a really nice hotel by the airport, it still is hard to remember that he, well they, have money to stay at places that aren’t just a single room, cheap stay but a top floor with a sitting room, kitchenette, balcony.
He’s easily recognizable and they were more than happy to find him a room despite their sign saying ‘no walk-ins.’
Harry waste no time in dropping their bags and finding the bathroom to begin fill the massive tub with water.
YN trails in, the steam and sweet smell of the vanilla body wash he splashed in to make bubbles, it makes her want to moan with relief from the aches in her body from traveling while pregnant.
“C’mon, show me,” Harry encourages raspily when she trails in but he’s already coming over to help remove her clothes.
He just admires her once she’s bare, looks her up and down, and just groans before his hands and mouth are on her, “Fuckin’ hell, darling. There’s nothing on this earth more beautiful than you all plump and full of my baby.”
“H,” YN whines in return when his lips find her sensitive nipples, they’d gotten so much more since her pregnancy, “Too much,” YN squeaks at one point when he nips with his teeth.
Harry pulls back with a mocking little pout, thumbing over the bud in apology, “S’too much? So sensitive now that you’re carrying my baby, huh?”
“Mm,” She replies noncommittally, her hand coming to push on his shoulder to get him lower and he looks up at her with a cheeky smile.
“What do you want? Can’t give it to you unless you tell me,” Harry teases like a brat, it’s obvious how painfully he’s hard in his tight briefs.
“Harry,” YN responds reproachfully, not in the mood for the teasing as she digs her nails in a bit in warning as she gives him a look.
“Okay, m’sorry,” He coos sweetly, understanding that she’s not in a playful mood as he squats down and murmurs, “Hi bubba, s’your daddy. Being good for your mama in there, hm?”
YN is smiling down at the interaction until her mind flashes back to earlier
“You’re too young.”
“What kind of scheme is this? Are you trying to trap him?”
“S’what it sounds like to me. How on earth would Harry want a baby at twenty-one?”
YN feels her stomach lurch before she’s taking a step back from her husband and turning to the toilet to empty her stomach.
“Whoa, sweetheart,” Harry replies in alarm, moving to hold her hair back and a hand coming to massage her shoulder blades, “Breathe, s’okay.”
YN has tears streaming down her cheeks when she flushes and closes the lid, her chest heaving a bit faster than usual.
“It-it’s not okay. I’m the reason your in a bad place with your family. I-I never want to come between you and them,” YN sniffles, allowing Harry to guide her into now full tub with her and make sure she’s sat carefully.
Harry scootches in behind her, letting her lay back against his chest, and his hands instantly come to rest on her belly.
“The look of your m-mum and sister’s face when we told them. They looked devastated, like I’ve just ruined your whole life,” She adds in, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to let herself panic too much.
“Please don’t cry, darling,” Harry begs softly, lips kissing across her shoulder blades, “Don’t listen to them. If they’re not happy for us, it doesn’t matter. We are happy. I want you, I want this baby. I want it more than anything. You don’t know how much I want this. I-I never thought I’d have it.”
-
Harry was at a frat party, a group of girls flacked around him and his friends but most of them only had eyes for the star of the show.
They were joking about blowjobs of all things, not Harry but the other guys, and all the girls were batting their lashes.
“I’d have no problem taking Harry upstairs and showing off my skills,” A pretty brunette smiles widely at him, her hand coming to squeeze at his bicep.
The group of boys was hooting and hollering at the offer, nudging him with their elbows, and pushing him into the girl who took that as an opportunity to begin kissing his neck.
Logically, Harry knows that he should want this. He knows that he should want to go upstairs and get his rocks off with a pretty girl but he didn’t, he didn’t have any desire to do that.
He was broken.
And when he gently shoves her off and says, “I’m good. Anyone else need another beer?”
Chase, the first base player, makes a offended noise and chuckles, “Are you gay or somethin’ Styles?”
The group laughs.
Everyone except Harry and Niall.
Niall interrupts by saying, “No everyone is a sleaze like you, Chase. Wasn’t your first kiss your cousin?” Before he’s wrapping his arm around Harrys neck and saying, “I could use another Budweiser.”
Harry doesn’t know why he feels like he wants to cry but he does, he manages to escape the party, and go up to his room.
If he can’t let some cute girl into his bed, how’s he every going to find someone to be with and have a family.
Harry wondered whether baseball was all he was ever going to have.
-
“Don’t you cry too,” YN giggles, bringing Harry back from his flashback, “We can’t both be crying.”
“We can,” Harry chuckles throatily, lips pressing against her neck, “I wished and wished for you and I found you. My soulmate, meant for me, meant to be my wife, and meant to have my babies.”
“You and the bub are the most important thing to me. Just because I’m twenty-one doesn’t mean that I don’t want this. I’ve never been happier, married to you, and I am so in love with our baby we haven’t even met yet.”
YN brings up his hand to kiss his palm then laying it back on her belly, “You’re going to be the best daddy on this earth. I just want your mom and sister to be involved in his life too even if they don’t want to talk to me.”
“If they don’t respect you, they won’t be involved. My mum is just confused but Gemma, I don’t know why she reacted like that. I expected more of her,” Harry murmurs matter-of-fact.
“Babies,” YN repeats from earlier.
“Hmm?” He replies, lost in thought.
“You said I’m meant to have your babies, plural.”
Harry laughs loudly, teeth biting playfully into her skin before his hands are moving up to twist at her nipples, “You’re funny. Don’t act like I won’t want to put more on you after this. Gonna make you a mama, hm? How many kids two, three? As many as you let me give you.”
YN let’s her head drop back against his shoulder when one hand moves down between her thighs, while the other still is pinching and massaging her nipples.
She lets out a satisfied moan when his fingers tuck between her folds and begin to rub at her puffy clit - her legs trying to spread as far as possible in the tub.
“Fuck,” YN whimpers happily, squirming a bit as he gives her relentless pressure in her bud with skill, “Don’t know how you’re so good at making me come.”
Cue his cock twitching at that.
“S’cause I was made to please your perfect body, your pretty nipples, this belly, your cunt makes my mouth-water,” Harry nearly growls with how low his tone gets as her legs start to quiver with the oncoming pleasure.
“H,” YN gasps when it barrels through her body, thighs trying to squeeze shut, trapping his hand but his other holds them open, “It-it’s good.”
When she finally comes down, Harry is cocky as he always is, “You look so gorgeous when your coming because of me. Fuckin’ hell.”
YN manages to reach her arm around, fingers wrapping around his length, and it only embarrassingly takes a few pumps for Harry to find his own end.
“Shut up,” He whines when she snickers at him, pinching her nipple once more meanly, “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you to bed.”
-
It’s pretty early in the morning when there’s a knock of the hotel room door, the two were already awake and cuddling in bed still - Harry had went down to where they serve breakfast to get her a glass of apple juice and had gotten bombarded with fans.
“Did you order room service?” YN asks curiously as the knock echos through their room.
“No, I hope it’s not some fan who thought it’d be a good idea to come up here,” Harry replies tersely, tugging back on his pair of shorts before swinging up the door.
It was Gemma and Anne.
Harry just gives them a look, biting the side of his mouth before very calmly saying, “If you’re here to stir up more drama, no thank you. You already gave my wife enough stress last night and I won’t tolerate anymore.”
Gemma’s a bit ready as she shakes her head, “I’m not. I came to apologize. I drank way too much last night and that’s not an excuse, I’m sorry.”
Harry begrudgingly let’s them in, “I’ll go get YN.”
He steps back into their bedroom, she’s still sipping on her apple juice in just a loose, lace nightie that accentuates the curve of her breasts.
“It’s my mum and Gemma,” Harry tells her softly, bending over to snatch up a shirt and leggings for her to pull on, “Gemma wants to apologize. It’s up to you whether you want to see her or not. I’m not pressuring you either way.”
“No, it’s okay,” YN replies a bit nervously, letting Harry help her change into appropriate clothes before she’s throwing her hair up in a bun and stepping into the living area.
Anne and Gemma both have gift bags in their hands, setting them on the table, and there’s a moment of awkward silence.
“I am so sorry for the way I acted,” Gemma blurts out with tears already forming in her eyes, “It was uncalled for and out of line.”
YN stands their quietly for a moment before nodding, “I accept your apology. However, I can inform you both that even though the baby was not planned, we are very much both excited to be parents.”
Anne steps forward and wraps YN in a hug, warm and soft, and murmuring, “I can’t believe I’m going to have a grandbaby.”
Gemma could clearly hear in YN’s tone that she was not fully forgiven, she tried again, “I-It had nothing to do with you, you know? It’s just that my brother just signed a multi-million dollar contract, just graduated college, and has his whole life ahead oh him. A baby…well that’s roadbump.”
YN grits her teeth, shifting into mama bear mode as she cradles her stomach protectively, “My baby is not a roadbump in our life. How dare you say that to us.”
Harry has rage boiling inside his stomach, watching his wife get riled up, and he tells Gemma, “You don’t control my life. I knew YN wasn’t taking her birth control consistently and I still decided to not use a condom. Happy you know the details now?”
YN is quiet but firm when she says, “I’d like some alone time now. Goodbye Anne,” before she’s turning on her heel back to their bedroom.
“Gemma,” Harry bites out in anger, “I think it’s best if we kept our distance for awhile. I can’t have you continuously upsetting my wife. If you’re not going to support us then you need to back the fuck off.”
“So you choose your wife over me?” Gemma scoffs in disbelief as Anne just lets her children figure it out themselves - her mouth in a tight line of disapproval and irritation.
“Yes. It’s my duty to protect her and our baby. It’s my job. Mum, I’m sorry but we need to catch up another day,” Harry gives her a kiss on the cheek before glaring at his sister, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
When Harry is making his way back to the bedroom, he’s disappointed himself, and he feels like he’s about to cry but he has to stay strong for YN.
She’s not crying like he had expected though, she had flipped on the television and shimmied out of her leggings to resume her comfortable position on the bed - a hand rubbing her belly.
Harry crawls back on the bed too, instantly pushing her shirt up under her breasts and smattering soft kisses all over her somewhat taut skin.
YN is alarmed when she feels teardrops on her stomach, moving to tilt Harry’s head up, and frowning when she sees his face.
“Oh honey,” She titters as she wipes his cheeks with her thumbs, “Don’t cry, my love.”
“I just wanted them to be happy for us. I mean my mum was but Gemma just fuckin’ ruined the announcement for us twice!” Harry huffs out loudly, knuckling at his eye, “Just was looking forward to having that special moment with my mum. She’s so fucking selfish.”
“H, we can deal with it another day. It’s not the time to try to solve the issue when we’re upset,” YN reminds him pulling him up until he’s carefully resting his weight on her, “Right now, it’s just us. And that’s all that matters.”
“It really fucking is all that matters.”
-
YN can’t stand to see Harry heartbroken, he lays down for a nap after their breakfast, and he’s seems low - in a stupor as he shuffles under the blankets.
She calls up Anne, just Anne, and asks her to come back over because she has a plan to make this all better (or try to mend the situation a bit).
YN orders lunch, sets it up nicely in the living room, and welcomes Anne in - she’s gonna wake him up but he must hear the commotion and comes sauntering out in his low-slung shorts.
“Wha’s going on?” Harry mumbles with a frown, he glances around and notices that Gemma isn’t accompanying them.
“Come eat,” YN pats the couch next to her.
After they’re finished filling their plates, YN starts by saying, “Anne, we have an announcement to make.”
Anne’s eyes go wide in faux surprise but she is smiling softly, putting down her fork and knife, and looking at both of them intently.
“H, do you want to tell her?” YN nudges him as he glances between the two of them in confusion, YN nods toward her stomach, and Harry catches on.
God, he loves his wife.
“Mum,” Harry shutters a bit, pushing his plate back, “YN and I are pregnant. The baby is due in January and we-we couldn’t be happier.”
Anne stands up, rounding the table and pulls Harry in to a hug, cradling his head, and stroking his hair, whispering, “I am so happy for you two, my sweet boy. I know you’re going to be the most amazing father.”
Harry is sniffling, seeming like a little boy in his mum’s arms as he asks, “You’re happy for us?”
Anne chuckles, pinching his cheek, “Don’t be silly. Of course, I am. You two are adults. You have a funds and ability to care for the baby. I couldn’t be more thrilled for both of you. But you, H, will always be my baby.”
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matttgirlies · 7 days
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Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - sexual refrences, drug usage
y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷
Chapter 9
Matt sent two first-class plane tickets. My father took a leave of absence from his duties in Germany, and we flew off to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Fun in Acapulco.
We stayed at the Bel Air Sands Hotel, and Matt was the perfect host. He’d pick us up in either a white Rolls-Royce or his famous gold Cadillac and take us on a sightseeing tour along the ocean to Malibu or into Hollywood.
My father was impressed with Matt’s hospitality, but not enough to forget why he was there—to talk about my education and my future at Graceland. Matt didn’t want to jeopardize the deal they had already made, and every time my father brought up my schooling, Matt would find a Hollywood landmark to point out.
“And over there, Captain,” he said, changing the subject as we cruised down Hollywood Boulevard, “is Grauman’s Chinese Theater. I’m sure you’ve heard of that. If you get out here, you can see all the stars of your era, their handprints and footprints. There’s Betty Grable, you remember her, don’t you? Marilyn Monroe, Kennedy’s friend, and if you look hard enough, you might spot Trigger’s hoofprint.” As my father stepped out of the car, Matt added, “I don’t think MacArthur’s are there yet, but I’m working on it.” We all laughed at the incongruity of General MacArthur bending over the wet concrete next to Jane Russell.
After a few days, my father and I flew to Boston and he and James enrolled me in the school Matt had chosen, Immaculate Conception, an all-girls high school, while Matt himself remained in L.A. to finish the film.
Before I left, he assured me that he’d be home soon and that he’d see me in a few weeks.
Matt and I planned to live together at Graceland eventually, but we’d told my parents that I would be staying with James and Angela, so when I arrived in Boston, I moved into their home. James assured my father that I’d be in good hands and not to worry.
The concerned look on my father’s face moved me. It was such a helpless look filled with doubts and fears about whether he was making the right decision. Only time would tell. He returned to Germany and I settled into my new routine.
In the beginning James drove me to and from school, where word of my identity soon leaked out. As I walked down the hallway, heads would turn and whispers would start. Once, a note that was being passed in study hall ended up on the floor. I saw my name on it and picked it up.
“Her name’s y/n,” I read. “She’s supposed to be Matt Sturniolo’s new girlfriend. If we make friends with her, maybe she’ll introduce us to him. Oh, God, wouldn’t that be neat!”
I didn’t know who the writer was, but I couldn’t mistake the meaning. The friendly smiles concealed intentions to get to Matt through me. Consequently, I was afraid to get close to anyone at school, and began to feel lonely and unhappy.
Living with James and Angela was also difficult. I felt out of place in their home, and did not want to be an intrusion in their personal life. I began spending more time with Grandma at Graceland, often staying all night, and gradually, almost unnoticed, I began to move in my things. By the time Matt suggested that I move into Graceland, I already had.
But living on “the hill,” as we called it, was isolated. The only people there were Grandma and the maids, and during the day, the secretaries, Becky Yancy and Patsy Sturniolo. Patsy was Matt’s double first cousin (her mother was Mary Lou’s sister and her father was James’s brother) and also served as James’s confidante. We were close, and after school I would go into the office to talk with her and Becky. But James felt my visits kept the girls from working and finally he put a sign on the door specifying: no one belongs in the office unless they work there, or have an appointment. I knew that meant me too, so I curtailed my visits.
There were other restrictions. I was told that I couldn’t have girlfriends over because strangers weren’t allowed in the house. One day, I was severely criticized for sitting under the trees on the front lawn. I was playing with Honey, the poodle Matt had given me for Christmas, when a friend of Angela’s drove up and told me that I was making a public display of myself.
Even at school, I felt restricted because James was still chauffeuring me there and back. Without my own car, I couldn’t leave the school grounds to take a drive at lunch or when my classes were cut short. At last I asked James if I could use Matt’s Lincoln Mark V and reluctantly, he agreed.
That evening I went for a drive. With the radio blaring and the windows wide open I sped down Highway 51 South, enjoying my newfound independence. I pulled up in front of Patsy Sturniolo’s house and said, “Hop in. Let’s go for a drive.”
Patsy introduced me to Leonard’s Drive-In, where we would spend at least one night a week when we didn’t go bowling or to a movie. But I went out less frequently when the two hundred dollars that my father had given me rapidly began slipping through my fingers. Matt had assured my father not to worry about money, that if I needed any, his father would give it to me. So, with gas added to my expenses, I had no choice but to approach James, as Matt had instructed me.
Hesitantly I walked into his office. I was nervous about talking to James, who had a sharp tongue and said exactly what he thought. Finally I said, “Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering if I could have some money. I’m spending a lot on gas, which doesn’t leave much for anything else.”
“How much do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“I  . . . I don’t know,” I stammered.
He thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll give you thirty-five dollars. How does that sound?”
Thirty-five dollars sounded fine at the moment, but it didn’t go very far, not with movie tickets, gas, and clothes to buy. Two weeks later I asked him for money to go out with Patsy.
“Hot damn,” he snapped. “Didn’t I just give you thirty-five dollars?”
“That was two weeks ago, Mr. Sturniolo. I can’t stretch it any further than that.”
He stared angrily at me and then his face softened.
“Well, I guess things can get pretty expensive,” he said, counting out another thirty-five dollars. “Now you and Patsy be careful driving out there. You know there’s a lot of accidents on that highway. Why don’t you call me when you get to the theater?”
At the time his caution surprised me, but remembering what Matt had said about Mary Lou, I knew that this was also typical of the rest of the Sturniolos. They always felt better if you called when you arrived at your destination and again before you left for home.
Matt phoned later that evening. In the course of the conversation he asked, “How are you doing on cash, Baby?”
“Funny you should ask that,” I said, mentioning his father’s reaction when I asked for money.
Matt started laughing. “That’s my dad. He’s always been tight. Getting money from him is worse than going to the local bank, even if you’ve got good credit. That’s why I have him taking care of my bills. Every penny’s accounted for. I wouldn’t trust anybody else. Too many thieves. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him.”
I ended up laughing too. Matt’s sense of humor was contagious. He laughed about things that often wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, yet anyone around him would usually end up laughing too.
Unfortunately, Matt forgot to speak to his father. Rather than ask for handouts, I resolved to earn my own money. I began modeling part-time at a boutique near Graceland. When I told Matt about my job, he said, “You’re gonna have to give it up.”
“But I’m enjoying it,” I said.
“It’s either me or a career, Baby. Because when I call you, I need you to be there.”
I quit the modeling job the next day, which left me with very little to do. I started spending even more time in Grandma’s room. I liked being with her. She was always in her favorite chair, ready to share her loving stories about Matt.
Most of them dealt with his early years and the family’s struggle against poverty. Suffering and worry seemed to be the very fabric of Sturniolo’s lives. Any time Matt failed to call home for two days in a row, they worried that something terrible had happened to him in California. Matt’s enormous success and wealth notwithstanding, they were convinced that some misfortune was going to snatch it all away from them. Sometimes all this talk of suffering depressed me.
My only relief was Patsy Sturniolo, and I went to her every chance I got. But then Grandma complained that she was being neglected. She reminded me that Matt’s old girlfriends used to stay with her every single night he was gone. Torn, I couldn’t wait for Matt’s return.
I anxiously waited for his call. It usually came in the early evening.
“Hi, Baby. How’s my girl?” he asked, his voice bright and full of energy.
Happy to hear from him, I said, “I’m fine, Matt.” I tried to mention how lonely I was, but he cut in. “It won’t be long, Baby. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be wrapping up.”
“I’m glad. I’ll be so happy to see you.”
“Well, then, let me hear some enthusiasm.” He began describing a silly incident that had taken place on the set that day, trying to make me laugh.
I wanted to say, “Matt, talk to me, help me get through these new experiences.” But I realized that he didn’t want to hear about my problems. He felt he had enough of his own. When he asked me how I was doing, I became very animated and said, “Just great, Matt. Everything is wonderful.”
But when we hung up, I still felt an emptiness. I began counting the days until he came home.
After several delays Matt finished Fun in Acapulco and headed back to Graceland. Still afraid of flying, he traveled with the entourage in his huge, custom-built bus, the same one we’d taken to Vegas the year before. At every stop he called Graceland with a progress report. “I’m in Flagstaff now,” he said. “Only a few more days and I’ll be home. How’s my Little Girl doing?”
With each day’s phone call I became increasingly excited. I awaited Matt’s arrival with open arms and a big smile.
Finally one evening he called and said he’d be pulling in around midnight. By ten o’clock, fans were already waiting at the gate. How they found out was a mystery. I was among a small group of his friends and relatives gathered in the living room. All of us peered impatiently out the large window facing the long circular driveway.
I had been hoping that our reunion would be intimate, romantic. But I could now see that it was not to be, and I wondered if Matt would be upset that so many people were around.
By twelve-thirty, the fans at the gate started shrieking and the powerful glaring lights of the bus swept the driveway. Matt was behind the wheel and smoothly brought the bus to a halt. He was the first one out and he came through the front door like a shot.
“Where’s my girl?” he called out, looking around for me.
“Hello,” I said. It seemed more like months than weeks since I’d last seen him.
“Hello?” he echoed in a mocking voice, coming up to me. “I’ve been gone all this time and all you can say is ‘hello’?” Then he lifted me into the air, kissing and hugging me. “God, it’s good to be home.” He looked around and saw his grandma.
“Dodger, you waited up for me too, bless your heart.” He hugged her and patted the back of her head. Then he greeted the rest of the household. Matt could be extremely affectionate, and this particular night he had hugs for everyone.
With his arrival, Graceland sprang to life. The maids started cooking, and the boys were talking, greeting their wives and girlfriends, and soon they were bringing in the luggage and unpacking it.
After being alone so long, I found this sudden intensity and energy overpowering. I stood amid the commotion, watching Matt go upstairs, as he called out to Pauline, “O Five, what’s for dinner?”
I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait. I didn’t want to appear too excited, so I stayed downstairs until I heard, “y/nn, come up here.” Then I couldn’t get up those stairs fast enough.
We had a few quiet moments together in his room. He asked how I was doing, if I liked school, and if his dad was taking care of me. I started to tell him everything I hadn’t been able to on the phone, that I had missed him, that I had been lonely, that I really wanted to find a job. Then I stopped myself. This wasn’t what Matt wanted to hear.
After a few minutes of talking about Grandma, he kissed me and said, “Well, let’s join the others and eat.”
When we got downstairs the rooms that for weeks had been so quiet were now filled with guests laughing and cracking jokes.
Graceland was—as local DJ George Klein put it—ready to rock and roll.
We had a down-home meal of pork chops, cornbread, home fries, and crowder peas. While we were sitting around the table, local friends dropped by to visit and to catch up on all the gossip about Matt’s latest movie.
“Goddamn, she was a big woman,” Matt was saying about his costar. “Body like a man—no hips, and shoulders broader than mine. I was embarrassed to take my goddamn shirt off next to her.”
“Yeah, but M,” Alan Smith kidded him, “she only had eyes for you.”
“No way, Son, not with John Derek lurking all over the place. I’d be goddamned if I’d start a conversation with her and see his possessive eyes glaring at me. You know he gave her a car, and on the steering wheel it said, ‘Baby, you’re indispensable.’ Head over heels in love with her. Never saw anything like it.”
I was surprised to hear how Matt was talking about Ursula Andress, the alluring sex goddess of Dr. No.
“Wasn’t she pretty?” I asked.
“Pretty?” he snickered. “Hell, she had a bone structure so sharp, it could cut you in half if you turned too fast.”
Everyone howled, including me. Matt’s stories went on for hours. Again I felt out of touch with the conversation and wished I had some colorful stories of my own. I kept wondering when we were going to have some time alone. My world consisted solely of him. I sat quietly, happily observing him. Whenever he winked at me or gave my hand a little squeeze, I returned the gesture, thinking, now? Does he want me to leave, so he can follow me? But then he’d lean back in his chair and begin telling another story.
It was almost dawn before he yawned and said, “Well, we better get some sleep.”
We all rose from the table. He looked over at me, smiled, and said, “Do I have to write a note for school saying you were sick today? Think they’d believe me?”
Everyone laughed—and I blushed.
He put his arm around my waist as we made our way up the staircase to his room. If I appeared cool it was because I was mindful of something he’d once told me: He detested aggressive women. In fact, I was ecstatic. I’m finally going to be alone with him, I thought. All the phone calls, the worrying, the anticipation, and the delays are now over.
I got ready for bed at least fifteen minutes before he came out of his bathroom. He counted out his usual number of sleeping pills and took them one at a time. “Why are you taking those now?” I asked. “You’ll fall asleep.” I had plans, and the last thing I wanted was for him to doze off.
“Don’t worry. It’ll take a while for them to take effect.” He handed me a pill. “Here, just take one of these and you’ll get a good night’s sleep. It’s okay since you’re not going to school this morning.” He cautioned, “I wouldn’t advise it on school nights though.”
I looked at the red monster, remembering my earlier experience with it. “It won’t knock me out for ten days, will it?” I smiled at him as I swallowed the pill. It gave me a nice feeling. My body tingled. I was light-headed but more in control this time.
Snuggled in Matt’s arms, I was happy to be near him, his warm body against mine. Because of the sleeping pill, I could feel my inhibitions dissolving.
“How’s my Little Girl been?” He was speaking very softly now. “I’ve missed her. Has she been good?”
“Yes, she’s been good,” I said. “But she’s been waiting for you. It’s been so lonely here. She couldn’t wait to be in your arms, and she’s been thinking about you so much.”
“Shhh, don’t say anything else. I know you’ve missed me. I want you to just be here with me now and don’t think about anything else. Let’s enjoy each other.”
I was aware of the distant hum of the air conditioner, the music from the radio, the soft glow of the dim lights. Gently and tenderly he began to touch me.
He was passionate and again seemed to be making up for lost time. I felt sure the night would end with Matt finally making love to me. I was drunk with ecstasy. I wanted him. I became bolder, reaching out to him, totally open and honest in my need.
Then, as before when we’d reach this point, he stopped and whispered, “Don’t get carried away, Baby. Let me decide when it should happen. It’s a very sacred thing to me. It always has been. You know that I want it to be something to look forward to. It keeps the desire there. Do you know what I mean?”
I sat up in anger. “What about Nicole?” I yelled. “You mean you didn’t make love to her the whole four years you went with her?”
“Just to a point. Then I stopped. It was difficult for her too, but that’s just how I feel.”
“That’s how you feel. What about me? How long do you think this can go on? God, Matt, that takes a lot of willpower. That’s asking a lot of another person, one who’s in love and has strong, healthy desires.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we can’t do other things. It’s just the actual encounter. I want to save it.”
Fearful of not pleasing him—of destroying my image as his little girl—I resigned myself to the long wait.
Instead of consummating our love in the usual way, he began teaching me other means of pleasing him. We had a strong connection,  much of it sexual. The two of us created some exciting and wild times.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - i think im going to start doing longer chapters🎀
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Wed the Witches - Sneak Preview/Snippet
Based on this poll, one of the two winners for snippets was Wed the Witches, a never-before-posted/seen WIP that will one day make it to Ao3. The snippet below is a little over 1k words. Enjoy, and thank you again, all of you, for your Remadora love and support :)
The older he is, the more likely there’s something wrong with him.
It was all the advice Tonks was given when she browsed through the catalogue of available wizards. Pages upon pages of demographic information looked up at her, of eligible bachelors across the country who sought a wife. It wasn’t supposed to come to this, Tonks thought glumly, as she leafed through the pages, but she had no choice. Seven years at Hogwarts hadn’t helped her find a husband, so she was stuck at the Ministry, unable to begin her Auror training without selecting someone to marry.
It was terribly unfair that witches were ordered to marry before they turned 20, while wizards were allowed to remain single until they were 49. Unwed witches were automatically and forcibly matched to the oldest available bachelors; unwed wizards were castrated as punishment. 
“Find anyone you like?” 
The kind voice of Tonks’s father was a sorely needed distraction.
“How am I supposed to pick one?” 
“That’s a question for your mother, darling.” Ted lightly mussed Tonks’s pink hair and sat down next to her at the kitchen table. “Although she never had to go through with her selection, thank God.”
Tonks wrinkled her nose. Her mother, Andromeda, had also gone through seven years at Hogwarts without finding a husband. Her parents let her choose a bachelor, provided he was a pureblood, and the only candidate they accepted was more than twice Andromeda’s age. She eloped with the true love of her life, Ted, and avoided an unsavory fate.
“Mum didn’t even want to marry that creep,” Tonks muttered. “She had you. The only bloke I fancied is off in Egypt with a stupid exemption until he’s 30. I reckon he’ll find some Egyptian goddess, marry her, and never have to worry about us English witches sending him a letter.”
“Try to look at it from their perspective.” Ted took the catalogue and ran his finger down the list. “Think about this one: he’s 29, a father of three, he works at a shop in Hogsmeade, and was a Slytherin. Any witch who sends him a letter has got to be his kids’ stepmother. If I’d lost your mum when you were small—” Ted shuddered at the thought. “I’d have to trust a stranger to be your stepmother, and with the changes they made to the law in ’74, I’d have to have more children until I had a son.”
Tonks frowned at her father. “Okay, I’ll pick him, then,” she said. “This 25 year old dad of three can be my husband. I’m normal and I won’t do anything to the kids. If I’m lucky, one of the kids is a boy so I won’t have to have kids if I don’t want to.” She grabbed a roll of parchment, but her father tugged it back.
“Dora, wait,” Ted warned. “This is a big decision. Read his notes before you write anything down.”
Tonks rolled her eyes and flipped the page over. She was aghast at the amount of notes this bachelor had. 
“Married three times already . . . each kid with a different wife . . . all Muggle women who left him?” Tonks gaped at her father. “How is this man not in Azkaban?” 
“If he married Muggle women, it’s impossible to know.” Ted flipped through more pages in the catalogue. “I’d think you want someone with some notes, just to know what’s ahead, but nothing too concerning.” 
“Give it back—” Tonks took the catalogue from her father and grunted. There had to be someone within its pages she could spend the rest of her life with. “I’ll just . . . I’ll put a star next to the ones that aren’t hopeless and work until I’ve got a shortlist.”
“You’re sure you want to keep your mother out of this?” 
Tonks scoffed at her father. “Mum would pick the most boring sounding one. It’s my life, not hers.”
“She only wants what’s best for you, sweetheart.” Ted stood from the table, kissed the crown of her head, and put water on to boil. “You’ll need lots of tea and patience.”
“Where did you send Mum, by the way?” Tonks said, as she flipped past two of the oldest men in the catalogue. The two 47 year olds would not be part of her list. 
Ted grinned and set down two steaming mugs on the table. “I might’ve suggested she take a girls’ day with Hestia and Emmeline. They’ll have a cracking time at afternoon tea in Mayfair.”
“At one of those insufferably posh hotels?”
“Your mum will be in the best mood possible before you make your announcement, whoever you choose.” Ted flicked his wand at one of the cupboard and a tin of Tonks’s favorite biscuits landed in front of her. “I may not be your mum, but I still want you to find someone who will love you as much as we do.”
Tonks seriously doubted that any man she chose out of a Ministry-organized catalogue would fall in love with her. If she was like the older Hufflepuff girls she knew, she’d be lucky if her catalogue-husband even wanted to be friends with her. 
As she flipped through the files of available men, Tonks said, “You know, Dad, I really should’ve said yes to Ralph Oliphant’s last-minute offer. He’s freakishly tall and he kind of looks like a naked mole rat, but he wouldn’t have been half-bad.”
Ted raised a brow at her as she starred another promising bachelor. “Do you want to write to him?” he asked. “See if he’s still interested?”
“Nah, he got married to Debbie Ketzler a week after we got back from Hogwarts. She said no to him too, but I heard she got spooked by the catalogue and went back for him.”
“And you’re not . . . spooked? As you put it?”
Tonks dog-eared a page in the catalogue and shrugged. “Less scared, more . . . unwilling?”
Ted hmmed and leaned back. Tonks continued her work, and after two strong cups of tea, she had six pages marked with the best options. There was one that stood out above the rest. He was perfect, if a little old for her taste, but a twelve and a half year age gap wasn’t a dealbreaker. He had a good job, no children, no previous marriages, and other than the highly questionable circumstances listed in his notes, he was the best one in the catalogue.
Eligible Wizard #60-W31-029X was a risky choice. There was no denying that. 
There was also no denying that if she chose anyone else, she would have an equal chance of happiness with a stranger. This stranger, the one whose record she held in her hands, seemed like the right choice. 
Tonks made her decision.
“This one.” Tonks shoved the catalogue back at her father. “This one will be my husband.”
“31, half-blood, never married, and no children,” Ted read aloud. “He works at a shop in Diagon Alley, makes good money, was a Gryffindor, above average O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s—” Ted was about to flip the page for the mystery bachelor’s notes when he paused and looked up at Tonks. “Did you read the notes? This one seems . . .”
“Too normal, right?” Tonks put her hand down on the catalogue to prevent her father from reading the notes. “He’s got one of the best profiles in this book. I would’ve picked him right away but there’s a catch with him, and it’s a big one. It’s probably why he’s still single. I reckon if I can be an Auror, I can handle what’s going on with him.” 
Ted rubbed his palms together. “All right . . . what’s wrong with him?”
Tonks flipped the page over. 
“He’s a werewolf.” 
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ocdeeznut · 1 month
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In rewatching s8 i have some thoughts. Why it didn’t work as an ending, and what i think could have been changed.
WARNING THIS POST IS LONG AS FUCK, so strap in if you’re interested.
- The feel of the writing is distinctly off. Not bad, but it doesn’t feel like you’re watching Voltron anymore. It feels grittier and more like a high stakes adult animation than the other seasons. Which, again, isn’t necessarily bad, but the shift is too quick and it could have been executed better if they spent more time digging into the individual characters and their growth during s6/7.
- The issue of ‘there’s always a bigger enemy’ starts to make the plot feel stale. You get bored of a bigger robot, higher stakes, more to lose. They start killing people and planets for a cheap audience reaction when we weren’t all that invested in the first place. It felt like a split second decision by the writers to destroy Olkarion. Something like that needs to be pencilled in from the beginning. There were too many attacks on Olkarion, and as a consequence we got too used to seeing it’s people in peril. There should’ve been a distinct shift where we, as the audience, realised Voltron wasn’t going to be there to save them this time. Whether that’s a writing, animation or atmospheric issue i’m unsure. Maybe it’s just a me thing.
- The Atlas should never have been able to transform. That for me was the biggest investment turn off. Why do we need Voltron anymore if there’s a bigger, stronger robot on their side? If they were going to replace the castle, they should have made it clear and stuck with the intention. That’s not a support ship anymore, that’s something else entirely. I’d gladly watch a show JUST about the Atlas, with Shiro at the helm, but it’s not Voltron.
- Too many things happen at once, and it’s massively convoluted. 13 episodes is not enough time to: introduce a romance, have me actually care about that romance, kill off a main character, form a new version of voltron, redeem three main antagonists, AND cutely tie up all the glaring plot holes of the show. S8 needed to be two seasons at least. If things were spread out and more passion was pumped into the writing, it could’ve worked.
- Allura’s character was ruined. She became a nagging, reckless, martyred love interest. I love her dearly, i have from S1, but they did her SO dirty. Lance, too. They both deserved better.
- I think, personally, that Sendak should’ve been the final villain. Not Honerva. Her arc was rushed and her CORE motivation made little sense. They used the flimsy excuse of her corruption to redeem her love for Lotor, and his name was literally raked through hell and back for a very mediocre payoff. If that was the plan from the start, it needed to be hinted at more.
- There was too much, as i call it, flip-flopping. The alteans are alive, now they’re evil, now they’re not. We can’t get into Oriande, but now we can! Personally, i need explanations, and strict universal rules. If those rules are to be broken for whatever reason - it has to be a show stopping exception and a main event. Everything is excused and explained away when it doesn’t make any sense.
- Now, i actually really likes the subtle art style and animation adjustments in the season, visually it was spectacular so i have no critiques there. If only the plot could have done its outer shell some justice.
AND GET LANCE OFF THAT DAMN FARM.
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shadowbriar · 1 year
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Sirius Black - Dare You
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Pairing : (F/M) || Sirius Black x Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : Drowning. Sirius being an idiot. I hate him. Prompts : “I couldn’t decide whether to kiss or kick you.” || “Oh? Oh.” Notes : I don’t really like Sirius in this story, he’s borderline toxic but he’s cute in the end, so I forgive him. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
Happy tears and laughter would be the two main things that filled the group of friends’ summer break. Agreeing to join the Marauders and staying over at the Potter’s summer house would be one of the best decisions she’s made in her entire life. From the moment she stepped in the place, she knew that the days spent would be one of her greatest days, and she has been proven right so far. 
Now they’re seated in a circle, cheeks rosy from gulping down the bottles of booze James was so kind to provide. Her knees were grazing with his, sending jolts of electricity through her spine. He was laughing, being the most beautiful version of himself in her eyes. She always loved to see him beaming in laughter. The way his hair would fall on his face, hiding the piercing grey eyes that would always strip her soul whenever they’re locked on hers. Sirius Black is the definition of magnificence indeed.
If she should ever point one flaw from him it would be the fact that he wasn’t hers. Sirius has always been so carefree, so nonchalant with every aspect of his life, including romance. As bitter as she should admit, there must be no girl in the castle that hasn't tasted those pink lips of his. No girl except her, of course.
“So, will tonight finally be my lucky night?” Sirius whispers to her ears “Can I finally land the chance of tasting those lips of yours?”
“Not with your alcoholic breath, you’re not.” She says, pushing him away in a friendly manner “You’ll never kiss me, Sirius.”
The boy pouts, “Why not? Everyone else would.”
Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Everyone would and everyone had. She wouldn’t have any problem with his past lovers. No, the problem wasn’t of his long list of ex-lovers. It was the fact that he never meant the kiss he shared with anyone. And even though she would kill to have him kiss her, knowing that she would just be another tally to his list never sits right with her. Not when she holds the purest and most loving feelings for him.
“I bet you ten galleons we’ll have our kiss before this break is over.” He continues, still having that confident smug expression on his face “I’ll get it, one way or another.”
She snorts, “I’d love to see you try.”
“Oh, I will try, alright.” He nods in determination “Wouldn’t you be so kind and give me mental support? Small kiss on my cheek, perhaps?”
“Yeah, right.”
“Sirius!” Lily exclaims, making the two turn to the red girl “Your turn.”
“Oh, Merlin.” He mutters.
“I’ve got one.” Marlene says, her mischievous expression plastered all over her face “Never have I ever fancied someone in this room. And I meant by full on whipped, down bad, would kill for that person kind of fancy.”
James groans, “Come on, now, we all know the answer to that!”
“Do we?” Mary comments, her brows furrow “Cause I don’t.”
“I don’t either.” Lily says with the same confused tone, glancing at her boyfriend with a ‘you better explain later’ look before turning back to the raven haired boy “So have you or have you never, Sirius?”
“Of course, I have.”
“No,” The girl next to him gasps, making a disbelieved look “Who?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Dove.” He winks “Right, spin the bottle again!”
She was stunned. So much secret for someone who seemed to have always been an open book for her. And what did he mean she wouldn’t have believed it? Would the person be someone she would least expect? Could it be Dorcas, though she’s been with Marlene for the longest time? Or could it be one of the Marauders? Or could it be Lily, the girl his best friend has been pining for years?
So many possibilities for such a vague answer.
“Stop staring at me.” Sirius says smugly “You’ll fall in love if you don’t.”
She rolls her eyes, “Who?”
“Not telling.”
“Oh, come on!” She whines, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater “Who is it? Who did you fancy?”
He turns to see her, smirking, “I’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”
“No.” She frowns “Never.”
“Your lost.” He snorts, acting offended “Could’ve been the best night of our lives.”
Indeed it could’ve been the best night of their lives, well her life for sure, she wouldn’t know if it would leave any remark for him. Being friends with Sirius for years had made her certain that the boy could never hold half as deep of a devotion as hers, yet with the new half confession he made, she’s starting to question everything she knew. Who could be the lucky soul he’s hoard feelings for?
—-
The sun was shining bright, birds chirping as if they were singing a pleasant song. If she should choose one thing she loves most about the Potter’s summer house, it would be their pool and the sun loungers around it. She loves feeling the warmth of the sun while listening to the banter her friends exchange or taking a quick dip to the pool to cool herself from the heat. All and all, the time spent at the pool has always been the pleasant highlight of her day.
Until today.
Her eyes were closed, the sunglasses she’s wearing don’t seem to do much of a help to block the striking light. Her skin was getting red, slightly burnt from the sun, but she wasn’t in the mood to move from her seat. It’s not like everyday she could sunbathe like this.
“Help! Someone!” A voice yelled, making her sit straight up “Help, he’s not breathing!”
She turned to the source of voice, Peter, frantically shaking Sirius’ soaked body.
“What happened?” She asks as she gets to the two, kneeling behind Sirius’ limp body “Sirius, wake up!”
In a panic, she begins to tilt his head and perform CPR on the unconscious boy. Her body was trembling in fear, afraid of all the bad possible outcomes of such a disaster. Worry and fright pollutes her mind that she didn’t even think for a second that Sirius is a brilliant swimmer. There would be no logical way to explain how such a skilled boy could drown in a pool that’s not even as deep as his height.
She begins mouth to mouth, counting on the seconds before doing the press on his chest. She begins with a light one, afraid of giving him too much pressure. Yet before she could do a third press to his chest, the boy bursts into laughter.
“You’re tickling me.” He exclaims, now sitting up as if nothing has happened “Merlin, I should’ve done this years ago.”
She pulled away, looking appalled and baffled at the situation, “You were- I thought- What’s just happened?”
“You kissed me.”
“What?”
“I said, you kissed me.” He said with a victorious smile “Told you we’d have that kiss before the break’s over.”
She blinks, letting out a disbelieved chuckle from the stunt he’s pulled, “You’re a dickhead, Sirius.”
She stands from her spot, walking away in angry steps. How dare he trick her that way? How dare he scared her to death, only to taunt her with the kiss that he obviously had no remarks of? How dare he hurt her this way?
“Wait, Love, I’m sorry.” Sirius called, trying to catch her “Hey-”
“Is everything a joke for you?!” She snaps, turning to him with teary eyes now.
Sirius gulped, understanding that he’s taken it too far this time.
“Do you understand the horror I felt? Thinking that you really drowned? Thinking that you’re really not breathing? Do you even understand how terrifying it was, Sirius?!”
He winces, her shouting was making the others to come out of the house, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“Everything’s just a joke for you, isn’t it?” She says with a quivering voice, yanking his hand away from her “Just fuck off, okay!”
The group of friends gasps. Sure she’s never been a saint but she’s never spat on anyone, not unless they were exchanging a banter. They knew that Sirius had crossed the line this time, whatever he did. Just perfect to turn their blissful getaway into a living nightmare now.
—-
She’s been staying in her room, sulking over her pathetic state. Exactly why did her heart have to choose him? Why couldn’t she just fall for a more grounded boy? One who would be more careful with her heart. One who would take care of her gently. One who would never be as careless as Sirius is.
It was never meant to be, she knew it. From the beginning she could already taste the bitter ending her infatuation would lead her. Sirius would never take her more than a friend, let alone reciprocate her feelings. He’s never wanted to be tied to someone else. He’s never wanted to settle down with someone. He’s never wanted to grow old and spend the rest of their lives together. No, that was never and would never be Sirius.
But why is it so hard for her to hate him? All the tears shed over this morning’s incident was not of her hatred for him, it was for her hatred towards herself. How could she be so foolish to still love him, even after everything? Even after every blatant evidence that he would never be the one for her?
A soft knock was made from the other side of the door. Perhaps it was Lily again, coaxing her to get out of the room and take her dinner. She hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, after all. Yet her appetite has gone out of the window and she certainly isn’t in the mood to meet anyone tonight.
“Love?” He says softly “It’s me. Would you please open the door so we could talk?”
Her head turns, not expecting to hear his voice.
“Pease?” He begs, knocking on the door once more “It wouldn’t take much of your time, I promise.”
Sniffling, she finds her feet closer to the door. Her brain was cursing her for it, for giving in so easily after everything he’s done, but her heart could never bear the plea in his tone. He knew exactly how to crumble her fortress with just one pleading. Another thing to add on the things that make her so pathetic tonight.
“What do you want?”
Sirius’ expression softens, noticing her still wet cheeks and the heartbroken expression she has all over her face, “Can we talk?”
She didn’t say a word as she walked back inside the room, not closing the door in a gesture for him to come. He did, quietly closing the door behind him and standing a few metres away from her, not wanting to invade her sheer tolerance for him.
“I’m sorry,” He starts “For everything this morning, I’m really sorry.”
She remains quiet, watching him as she tries to decipher his words.
“I thought it was a harmless prank, I didn’t think it through, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you so obsessed with wanting to kiss me, Sirius?” She asks, her voice still barely above a whisper “Am I one of the girls in your dating conquest?”
“No, no, of course not!” He exclaims fast, taking a few steps closer to her “I have never intended for you to feel that way. You’re far from the girls I ever dated from. You’re my friend, you're worth so much more than all of them combined.”
And there it is. A friend. His friend. As much as it relieves her to know that he thinks of her preciously, the bitter truth still hurts. She knew that he only sees her as a friend, she knew these all along. Yet having the confirmation served to her face now brought a whole different level of heartache she didn’t know one could even suffer from.
“Alright.” She says with a sharp breath, trying to maintain her composure so not to crumble completely in front of him “I forgive you. Would that be all?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Sirius turns his body, walking closer to the door before shaking his head and facing her again, “No, actually that’s not all.”
She raised an eyebrow, confused by his demeanour.
“I suppose I have to tell you the real reason why I’m so desperate to kiss you.”
“Okay,” She nods lightly, still not following the direction he’s heading “I’m all ears.”
“I like you.” He blurts “I like you, I love you, I want you, I pine for you, Merlin, I’m desperate for you.”
She blinks, taken aback by his confession.
“I’m the worst at showing my true intentions, believe me the boys have scolded me for years for it but I really don’t know what to do with all these emotions. I yearn for you and it’s maddening that you’re not mine and that I couldn’t kiss you or that I couldn’t hold you anytime I want.”
She’s still mute, trying to digest each of his words.
“I’m sorry for being the pathetic loser that I am. I know that you must hate me for everything. For being this pitiful and foolish with the whole dating quest but I tried, truly I tried to wriggle myself out of these feelings and I can’t. Everytime I try my best to suppress these feelings, it would only spit on my face and amplify instead.” He confessed, looking defeated and desperate from his own torment “So I beg you, please get me out of this. Please get me out of this torture.”
“And how would I do that?”
He shrugs, shaking his head, “I don’t know. Yell at me, tell me that I’m an idiot and that you hate me for ruining our friendship. Tell me that I’m the most pathetic bloke there is and that you’ll never reciprocate my feelings. Tell me that you’ll never love me.”
“Is that truly what you want?”
“No, but there really isn’t any other way, is there?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know, perhaps there is.”
Now it’s his turn to have his brows furrowed in confusion.
“The person you fancied, it was me?” She asks, trying to make sure that she wasn’t lost in translation “You fancy me?”
“Fancy is a far understating word, but yes, it was you. It’s always been you.” He reaffirms “And I never said I stopped fancying you. You’re the one who thought I no longer do.”
“Oh? Oh.”
An awkward silence fell between the two. As she tries to process his confession, Sirius is put on edge. He’s never seen her with such mannerism, so hard for him to understand what she would say next or what she’s thinking. He hoped that she would break his heart. Utter all the worst words she could probably say, he hoped that she would crush his heart to pieces, because otherwise he knew that he’ll be stuck loving the girl who doesn’t feel the same way about him.
“Is that all you could say? Oh?” He asked, still nervous of her response.
“So far, yes.”
He nods, “Right.”
“Do you really mean it?’
“Which part?”
“Every part.”
“I did.” He answers firmly, gulping “Except for the part where I wanted you to break my heart. I hope you wouldn’t, but there’s no other way for me to get out of these feelings, so if you would.”
“I wouldn’t.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, completely lost from her words now.
“Merlin, I couldn’t decide whether to kiss or kick you.” She says with a bitter chuckle, running a hand through her hair “You stress me so much, do you know that?”
“I’m sorry?” He apologises “I think?”
She rolls her eyes, coming closer to him this time and resting her hands to his chest, “You’re a pathetic loser, Sirius Black.”
He gulps, bracing himself for the heartbreak he’s about to face.
“You’re the daftest bloke in history and I hate you for confessing your feelings to me now,” She continues, glueing her eyes to his now “Because if you’ve done it earlier, you could’ve kissed and held me for years already.”
 “What-”
“Shut up and just kiss me before I get mad at you again.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
And so he leans in, finally getting the price he’s thirsted for the longest of time. She was the definition of perfection, the way her soft lips met with his. How her body’s now close to his, being held in his protective embrace just the way he’s always prayed at night. For a moment there all the years of silent pining and distressful yearns for each other doesn’t seem so bad. Never that bad when a happy ending is their reward.
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Between the Shadow and the Soul | Joel Miller x female reader
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Pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader, Summary: In the wake of your brothers leaving the QZ, you find yourself drawn back to Joel. What follows is something neither of you can vocalise, you are one thing outside of closed doors and another together. As time goes on, it gets harder and harder to keep this divide this though until something happens that leaves you no other option. Content Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI please and thank you. By continuing to read you affirm you’re over 18, f!reader, smut, drinking, swearing, description of an almost assault that is stopped and fears of walking home alone, with that there are allusions to fear of SA but nothing happens, and there is a blink if you miss it element of PTSD. Author’s Note - This links to Into The Fire but you do not need to have read that to understand or follow this at all. They’re separated but linked and I’m toying with extending this in the future if people are interested as I have some ideas about how this could extend into a series that follows the main plot and then into Jackson either as a chapter fic or interconnected one-shots. Let me know if you have any thoughts here as I’d love to gauge if there’s interest. Also, there’s a little Easter egg for episode one in this fic, so let me know if you catch it. Title is from Pablo Neruda’s sonnet XVII. Word Count: 6k
 Into the Fire | Masterlist
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Your brother leaves the QZ on a Wednesday. It’s him, Tommy, and the other Fireflies.
It’s been just 48 hours since he said he was leaving, less than 36 hours since you went to Joel Miller’s apartment to try and get him to join you in stopping this. It’s been 12 hours since you have been able to make some semblance of peace with your brother.
You lied through my teeth when you said that you would support my brother’s decision, blatantly fibbed when you said you respected the fact he felt he needs to go.  You both knew you were lying but we both pretended you were convincing. If the worst happens, you can hang on to that. 
Your older brother squeezes your shoulder and says that he’s proud of you as you watch your baby brother leave and you oscillate between wondering whether you want to cry or punch him hard in the face for not helping you stop our little brother from doing this.
It’s strange to feel both hurt and numb at the same time.  You feel too much and too little and all you know is this feels like an ending.
Days pass without major event. That’s the thing; your world can change in a moment, but the QZ endures and everyone else carries on unaware. There are ration cards to earn, trade or covet, jobs to do. 
You throw yourself into extra shifts of work, into finishing that book you’ve been meaning to. Distraction is your best weapon. Your apartment has never been so clean, your work so exemplary. If you’re not too exhausted to think at the end of the day, then that’s what the pills and alcohol are for.
Joel and Tess went on a supply run the day after that night so you’ve been able to avoid them both. You’re not entirely surprised; you knew he wouldn’t be there when Tommy left. There was enough said and left unsaid that night that told you everything you needed to know about how Joel felt about his brother’s decision.
 They’re gone for nearly a week before you hear that they are back.
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You can’t quite articulate what brings you back to Joel’s apartment. You don’t expect anything; you’re curious though; curious about how he’s taken Tommy’s departure, about the supply run and what they’ve found or traded, about him in general.
It isn’t Joel who answers the door though; it’s Tess.
“Huh,” she says before opening the door wider for me to walk through.
Everything in you tells me to turn around, to make your excuses but you don’t. You walk inside instead.
Tess has made her way to the kitchen area, picks up a half-drunk glass of alcohol. It strikes you that she’s so comfortable in Joel’s space doing this, that it’s obvious Joel isn’t here right now, but he trusts Tess enough to let her be here.
You’ve made a mistake. The two of you clearly made a mistake.
Tess takes a gulp of her drink and then leans against the kitchen cabinet. “You’re looking for Joel.” It’s a statement not a question.
You nod slowly. “I can go.”
“Don’t.”
You pause in the hallway, nod and then walk back to the table, toy with taking a seat but instead dig my hands into your worn jean pockets.
Tess doesn’t move from the cabinet but just meets your eyes, an unreadable expression on her face.
Is this where she confronts you? Where she confirms your fear that her and Joel are like that that Joel lied, or you ignored my gut and it’s you, you are the one at fault here.
Will she yell, will she lay down her territory?
“So, was it a good run?” you ask after a moment; you’ve always hated silence. It’s the way that silences feel like a weight above you, keep you anticipating something. Eventually something has to break the silence, right?
“Same old, same old,” Tess says, shrugging insouciantly.
“Oh.”
“I should go, really, please don’t tell Joel I was here. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Look,” Tess begins, her fingers pinching her brow, “you don’t know what you’ve got yourself into.”
“I do,” I protest stubbornly because even if you don’t, if Tess says that you don’t know then you will argue until you’re blue in the face that you do.
“No, you don’t.” Tess looks at the floor for the moment and then meets your eyes. “Don’t put something on him you know he can’t give you, it’s not fair. It’s not fair to either of you. Look, you seem like a good - or maybe an alright person. We’re not.”
It’s not that simple, you think. You know all too well that men who seem charming and nice at the start can be the most heinous of them all - that good and bad don’t feel like binary values in this world anymore. You thought you were good once, but your survival has come at a cost.
You open my mouth to protest her words but she shakes her head at you. Neither of them seems bad; yes, there’s an air of danger, they’re certainly competent and you wouldn’t necessarily want to cross them. They don’t seem actively malicious though. Or is that just the version of them you’ve seen?
"He told you what happened?"
“He didn’t.”
“Then how did you know?”
“I came over the morning after - saw you leaving. Also, even if I didn’t, you just confirmed it. You’re not very good at this, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Oh.” You have to say what’s next. “I didn’t - if I - I’m sorry if I stepped into something. I didn’t - I didn’t know if you were together. I’m honestly sorry if you are and I’m sure it didn’t -”
Tess laughs, it’s slightly bitter. “That man can’t be 'together' with anyone, sweetheart, that is the whole goddamn point I am trying to make.”
“It was a one-time thing.”
“Then why are you here, huh?“ She’s got you there.
You shift awkwardly in the kitchen, drag your foot on the floor and try not to look at you. Why are you here? What were you thinking?
“I’ll go,” You repeat, tightening the fist in my pocket.
As you open the front door, you walk straight into a solid weight. It almost takes the breath out of you.
“Crap.”
“What are you doing here?” Joel asks, because of course you would walk into him. Literally.
“I was leaving,” I say. “Sorry I uh -walked into you.” Walked into you, walked into this mess, walked into your apartment in the first place.
He clasps your wrist as you move to leave, he’s surprisingly gentle considering there’s a bruise on his knuckles. It looks fresh. You look down at the discoloured flesh and then back up at him.
“It wasn’t important, it can wait,” you say, swallowing and then looking anywhere but at him or Tess.
Joel doesn’t say anything. He loosens his grip on your wrist and then moves slightly to your side. “The problem’s sorted, Tess,” he says lightly. “Won’t happen again.”
You wonder if there’s a correlation between the problem and his bruised flesh.
“Fucking Robert,” Tess says, a mix of bitterness and almost cheer in her tone that you can’t quite reconcile.
You turn around and look at them both, trying to figure out what to do, whether you should just leave.
He hasn’t even said hello to you.
Joel drops a pack of ration cards on the table and places both hands on the table.  From where you stand you can see the outline of his back, his broad shoulders. It takes you back to the week before, to the way you had kissed the freckles on his shoulders and the way you’d felt beneath him.
There’s some sort of unspoken conversation taking place with him and Tess. She finally finishes the rest of her drink, takes a handful of the ration cards and then walks towards the front door, shaking her head at you and mumbling something you can’t quite decipher.
“Why’d you come?” he asks gruffly.
“No idea,” you say.
“Oh yeah?”
“They left safely, think they’ll try and radio in the next month or so, Tommy said,” you say as though that’s the message you came with, the mission you needed to carry out.
Joel turns and he’s facing you. “Right. Good.”
“Yeah.”
“You uh, doing okay now?”
You’re not sure how to reply to this; you’re surprised he’s asked, that it seems genuine. You’re also not sure what he’s asking; are you okay your brother left, or you okay after hooking up with him?
You nod. That seems an appropriate response.
There’s a protracted silence. It’s not entirely uncomfortable and you’re taken by the way Joel is carefully looking you up and down, calculating, making some sort of assessment.
“Since you’re here, you want a drink?”
“Sure,” you reply as you walk back to the kitchen table.
You know where this is going. You knew from the start after all, didn’t you?
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The QZ has a sense of security; it’s strange, there’s comfort in the known, even when it’s corrupt. At least you know who your enemies are most of the time, who’s running the show. There’s a safety in that. It’s when you don’t know who to avoid you find yourself in trouble.
Since Joel came back from the last supply run, you’ve fallen into a new pattern. At least two nights a week you’ll find yourself in his apartment, tangled up together in secret.
You don’t think anyone but Tess knows about this. You haven’t mentioned it to your friends, to your brother. They seem oblivious to it all, each of them ensconced in their own dramas and relationships. Even Maria, who you live with and has been your closest friend for years doesn’t know. However, as she’s a smuggler too, you’re not sure how she’ll react to you being with Joel. They have a loose truce, but in the QZ all connections are fragile.
You’re not even sure how to describe what is happening with Joel and you to them.
There are no words, no platitudes, Joel Miller is not going to hold your hand in public, after all he can’t betray that he has emotions or vulnerabilities to others, can he? How would that work with his reputation? You’ve heard that even some of the FEDRA soldiers are scared of him. Joel Miller is a man whose reputation truly precedes him.
Around others, nothing has changed between the two of you. It’s when it’s the two of you alone that it’s different.
Then it’s kissing against kitchen counters as you pretend the edges aren’t digging into your back, hands entwined as you move to his old bed held up by breeze blocks. It’s fierce, desperate kisses and roaming hands. It’s heat and fire and safety wrapped together.
It reminds of you that Alanis Morrissette song you used to hear on the radio, the one where the only ironic thing about it was the fact that the song wasn’t actually using examples of irony. Outside of these walls, he’s one of the most intimidating men in the QZ, but when it’s just the two of you, well then you feel the safest you have in years.
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You wake to a bright apartment. Next to you, Joel is still asleep and radiating heat that as winter sets in is far less unwelcome than before. One arm rests above your head while the other lazily hangs over your waist, his hand loosely entwined with yours. You lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heart beating. He’s a solid, grounding presence like this.
For a second you allow yourself to indulge. You’re not in Boston, you’re not in a QZ in a ramshackle apartment that doesn’t even have a fridge. You’re in the Before. This is just another lazy Sunday morning and Joel’s here.
You can’t fully picture the man he might have been then, how you and him would have been something different in that world. Just thinking about the Before is strange for anyone who’s survived this long though. It’s hard to remember a time when people would run into a coffee shop after classes ended, when we’d think about supermarkets and buying groceries because there was so much choice. Which of the different tomato types or cheeses did you fancy today, how many types of toilet paper could there be? It’s almost obscene to remember it now.
The reality creeps in too soon.
The problem is moments like this; the ones where you can dream and imagine this is something else. It’s been months and neither of you have defined yourselves, there have been no words, no spoken confessions of feelings. Inside these four walls, there’s something, but outside you feel like he treats like an acquaintance at best.  You haven’t told your friends or your brother about this because you’re not even sure what this is. You don’t know what you mean to Joel. You started out in desperation and shared loneliness, what even can this grow into?
You try and ignore this, to live in the moment, but it eats at you a little. You wonder if it would be the same if you were Tess?
He turns over, removing his hand from your side.
“Hey,’” you say gently.
“Mornin’,” he mumbles, the Southern drawl thicker in his voice as he wakes up.
He props himself up on his elbow, regards you carefully. His gaze is piercing, like he can really see through you even with half-awake eyes and a drowsy expression. You watch how his expression sharpens.
“I’ve got work in a bit,” you say just to fill the silence.
“Okay. Tess and I are going on a supply run later today, might be a couple of days.”
“Bill and Frank?” you ask.
He nods and then shifts himself so he’s hovering over you, meets your lips and skims his hands down your waist.
You hum in approval, slipping your own hands around his neck and pulling him closer.
In these moments, these fleeting quiet moments, things don’t feel so bad.
There’s a louder and louder question in your mind though - what is this? What are we doing? What does it mean to Joel?
It might be sensible, but there’s a weight to whatever has developed between you and Joel. You can justify and understand why things are different outside to when you’re alone, but even when you know the reasons it tugs at old anxieties. Is it you, are you the problem? Maybe if you were more like Tess, maybe if you were different then he wouldn’t keep you a secret.
He’s never even told you how he feels about you. The two of you started in desperation and shared pain - what was you said to him back then? Don’t overthink it? Well, now you are.
 
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It’s been a long day; your shift ran long after a clash between Fireflies and FEDRA. It’s strangely familiar; even when the world ends, we all still find a way to fight with one another. Perhaps that’s too reductive though.
Curfew is close, you walk a little faster down the street because you know you’re cutting it fine. FEDRA have been difficult recently; you don’t want to spend any more time in lock up.
 It’s this that motivates you to take the shortcut, to walk down the alley that will take you out closer to Joel’s apartment and mean you probably make curfew. You’re tired, exhausted from a long day of work and all you want is to be with Joel.
You hear the footsteps creeping behind you and your heart sinks.  In the Before you’d walk home with keys between your fingers in a clasped fist in your pocket for just this reason. How could you be so stupid? This is a moment you’ve been actively avoiding since you were a teenager, since before the outbreak. What have you done to save yourself a minute or two?
You’re angry too because why can’t you just walk down a street without this fear? What’s wrong with people?
You can’t berate yourself, not right now. You carefully look around you, try and think of a way out of this. You need to be practical, to swallow the panic that’s rising and get out of this. What would Joel or Tess do?
You’re almost out of the alley when it happens. He grabs at your shoulder, pulls you and then pushes you against the wall.
You don’t recognise him but you recognise the look in his eyes.
Mentally you try and remember the self-defence you’ve learned over the years; you’ve fought more people than this. This is nothing.
It’s just the way he’s so close and the panic and the -
“Let me go,” you say loudly, “You let me go now and we forget about this.”
“But I don’t wanna do that.”
“Let me go.”
“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” the man slurs, his foul breath on your neck. You push him off you and scramble to get away from him. He’s behind you and you manage to grab a loose brick from rubble on the ground and you’re ready. You’ve done this before and you can do it again.
He grabs at you and you raise the brick ready but something holds him back.
“Stop it, stop it! “a man yells, “Jesus, you’ll get yourself killed. Get away, now.”
He shoves the man away and takes a step toward you, hands raised in surrender as you take a step back. The alleyway exit is just ahead of you, you can make it through this.
“Look, you need to tell him what I did, okay? I stopped him, helped you out.”
“I had it covered.”
 “Look, you need to tell your guy that I helped you,” he says firmly.
“My guy?”
“Yeah, now he,” the man points in the direction of the other man who has run in the opposite direction, “he owes me too because I know your guy would have destroyed him.”
“My guy?” you ask again, the adrenaline starting to wear off as you drop the brick to the ground.
  “You tell your guy that Robert -” The name clicks straight away, this is the man who Tess and Joel deal with, who neither of them like. They won’t like owing him.
The QZ is alarmingly similar to high school. Gossip spreads faster than fungus.
You shouldn’t be surprised people know about you and Joel, you shouldn’t be surprised there are rumours.
You are though and you know Joel will hate this if he ever hears about it. About the way Robert already wants to exploit it into something else. A wild thought that this was a set-up immediately comes to mind before you squash it down.
You break into a run back to Joel’s. You won’t tell either of them what’s happened, you can’t.
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Joel’s counting out ration cards on the kitchen table when you walk into his apartment. He spins around, a tense expression on his face, fists ready and teeth grit, and then he softens at the sight of you.
“Hey,” you say, walking over to him before getting a glass of water. “So, I take it you and Tess have been able to trade the stuff from your last run then?”
“Yeah.” Joel stands up, his posture stiff and it instantly raises an alarm bell. “So, Robert said some things today,” Joel says in a low voice. “You know him, don’t you?”
You swallow, feel the ground drop a little below you. You finish your water and place it on the counter, taking the time to think through what you say next.
“It was nothing,” you say, moving to him and placing a hand on his side in what you hope is a reassuring way. When you meet his eyes, you realise it though.
There’s some worry there, sure, but more than that, he’s annoyed. He’s annoyed because someone knows about what’s happening with the two of you, that you didn’t deny it or tell him, didn’t warn him.
It stings.
“I didn’t say anything to him.”
“You didn’t have to. Now he knows - or he thinks he knows something and the asshole is looking for a way to use it against me. Are you happy with that?”
“Why are you mad at me? I didn’t confirm it and I -”
“You didn’t tell me. If you’d told me before -”
“I thought you might worry, and I was - I was embarrassed, okay? I took a risk because I thought I’d miss curfew and I almost - it could have been really bad.”
Joel’s face hardens and you’re not entirely sure you’re making the situation any better.
“How bad?” For a second he softens, reaches towards you and cups a hand to your chin. You realise he’s checking for marks, he’s realised what could have happened, his eyes are dark with worry and anger and something else that you can’t identify.
“It was fine, I had it handled.”
“Sure. That’s what Robert said, that’s why he intervened and that's why he now he thinks I owe him.”
“I did have it handled,” you say, angry that Robert would use that moment against you like this. “I didn’t need him to intervene but he did and I didn’t ask him to. Nothing happened to me, okay? I stopped it. I stopped it.”
Joel is so close to you now, hands on your shoulders, eyes heavy. He nods at what you say, more reassured that nothing had happened to you. His head is bowed slightly, leaning against you and you move your hands down his arms to clasp his.
“Who was it?”
“No idea, just some guy -” Even if you knew him, you wouldn’t say his name with that expression on Joel’s face.
You pause before you continue because this will be the contentious part. “When Robert said about us- I didn’t confirm anything - and so what if I did?”
Joel scoffs, takes a step away from you and breaks the moment you start speaking.
“This isn’t fucking high school, sweetheart, we’re not going to announce we’re going steady in the cafeteria.”
“Who on Earth says going steady? Did you ever say that before?”
“No, of course not. It’s an expression. That’s beside the point. The point is - “
“What is the point?” you snap.
”You should have told me.”
“Maybe, maybe I should have. However going off this conversation, I’m pretty sure anyone would understand why I didn’t.”
“You’re impossible. How many people have you told about us, huh? Your friends been spreading it all around Boston?”
“You’re being a jerk,” you say, eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m not asking you to hold my hand and skip along the QZ in unison, Joel, don’t fucking be like this. I don’t know how Robert found out about us. Just please don’t blame me for something that wasn’t even my fault. Do you think I don’t realise that this - us - could put a target on my back? I’ve known that from the start and it’s why I’ve never pushed things.”
He swallows, clenches his fists and you realise that’s his main point. That’s the part that’s worried him. You’re not Tess - you’re not feared, you could be a vulnerability for him to others if it got out. Robert’s realised this, exposed a sensitivity Joel never wanted visible. You are tired though, you’re tired of being a tool for other people’s games.
You have survived too much. You’ve endured things you never can talk about, think about even, to get where you are today. You have fought and you have won some fights and lost the others, but you’re here.
You’re so tired of this though.
“You’re not being fair, Joel.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. You raise your gaze to look over at him again, to take in exactly how he looks, how he’s reacting.
His expression is blank but his body betrays him. He fidgets, how he scrunches and loosens his fist, moving his fingers.
“I know,” he says finally. “I know you didn’t say anything.”
You wait for a moment, hoping for more but he doesn’t say anything.
“Okay then.”
“I just - ‘s not, everything’s complicated.”
“You think I don’t get that? I understand why you want to keep us in here, I get that. It’s just if I don’t even know what we are? How could I say anything to Robert when I don’t know whether there is an us?” Now you’ve started you can’t stop.
He reaches for you, takes a step closer as you step back because if he touches you, if he holds you right now and you swallow these words, you’ll betray yourself. 
“I’m not as weak as you think. I know I came to you and I was upset about my brother but I’m not weak.”
”I don’t think you’re weak,�� Joel says, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t think it then, I’ve never thought that. We walk in different worlds ‘round here, sweetheart so I have to keep it separate.”
“And I understand that. It’s just that I don’t even know how you feel about me and now we’re talking about it, I can’t not say it, Joel. We’ve been - doing whatever this is for months and I - I - I’m a person, Joel. I have feelings.”
He says your name; all desperation and despair.
“I don’t think this is working for either of us anymore,” you say, taking a deep breath.
You glance over at the breeze blocks below his mattress again, how it sums everything up perfectly.  A makeshift bed for makeshift love.
“I should go.”
You should have gone a long time ago, you should have left when you came to his apartment and spoke to Tess all those months ago and saved both of you this pain.
So this time you do and you ignore whatever Joel says behind you.
It’s for the best.
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You scowl as you take in your apartment and listen to rain hitting the window. You are itching to do something different, but you’re not sure what you should do, or even what you have the resources and energy to do.
You can’t talk to your best friend about what has happened with you and Joel because she doesn’t know that you ever even slept with him the first time. It’s the same with your older brother and to be honest, things have been strained between the two of you since he supported your other brother in leaving with the fireflies.
You feel alone. You feel numb.
Hell, the only person you could talk to is Tess and you’re not even sure if she likes you.
There’s a knock at the door. You freeze. It’s past curfew which never means anything good. You quickly look around your living room for any visible contraband in case it’s FEDRA.
Joel’s standing there. You take him in for a moment; the way his six-foot frame dominates the door frame, his wet hair and unreadable facial expression.
“What are you doing here? It’s curfew!”
Joel raises his eyebrows smugly. Like curfew could ever stop him. You bite your lip so you don’t smile like you usually would because no, no you can’t smile at these things anymore.
As you turn away you’re sure you see his face fall slightly.
“Can I come in then?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
Since you’ve been together, most of your time has been spent at Joel’s. It’s quieter there, which may be more of an indictment of your own accommodation than a recommendation for his.
Joel stands awkwardly in your living room.  He’s rarely here as you live with your friend so his apartment has always been the choice. You’ve noticed before how every time he has been in your apartment, which has usually been to talk to you friend, he seems to be taking in some of the details, gleaning what he can from the small personal touches. Today is no different.  There are photos on your coffee table; you and your brothers, you and your best friend. Your brother found one of those Polaroid cameras once, it’s long broken now but there are some markers of your life, some semblance of normality.  You notice how he takes in the pile of books stacked next to your sofa, picks one of them up and flips the cover over to read the back. You almost smile at the fact he instinctively knows the books are yours and not your friend’s.
“Is - is it just you?” He asks tentatively.
“Yeah, uh - just me tonight. Maria’s over at Jason’s tonight.”
“Do you want a drink? I have some but it’s not the best quality.” Which is a polite way to say it’s really shitty quality moonshine.
“I’m good.”
“Why are you here, Joel?”
“You said some things.”
“So did you.”
“You said you didn’t even know how I felt.”
“I don’t.”
“You can’t mean that,” he says quietly. “You know, you have to know.”
“Joel, outside of your apartment I barely even exist to you!”
“I wanted to keep you safe, keep you away from what I do.”
“You think I’m safe from all of that? Maria is a smuggler too, I might not be, but I’ve been at risk if their operations fall apart from day one.”
You think about Joel’s words for a second, the ones you’d almost ignored as you launched straight into your planned words and defences.
“How do I have to know? What do I have to know, Joel?”
Joel doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t look like the Joel you see on the streets anymore, he doesn’t even look like the Joel you know from those nights, the one who knows every spot to touch and kiss and makes you feel like someone else entirely.
“ Look, I don’t know how to do this anymore, bein’ with someone, I mean. Reckon I wasn’t much good at it before the world went to shit.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “I think you’re more than adequate -”
He smirks. “Not that,” he whispers, “You know what I mean.”
You do.
“It’s a lot for me too.” It is, there are parts of your history you haven’t shared with Joel, that you’re not sure if you ever will. It isn’t because you don’t trust him, it’s that those memories live locked away and you don’t want to release them, not now, not ever.
Joel closes the gap between you. “I was worried because you didn’t even tell me someone tried to hurt you. How do I keep you safe if. -”
“I could have told you, but I was embarrassed. God, Joel, I’ve known not to cut through alleys in the dark since I was a kid. I’m just mad that I have to think like that.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Joel says, his tone softer.
“I should have told you about Robert, but Joel, I - I didn’t want to lose you.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess that worked out real well though.”
He puts his hand on your chin, guides you to meet his eyes.
“You haven’t, haven’t lost me. I was - you were right,” he mumbles. “I was a jerk. ‘M sorry. ”
You lean in to him and you’re about to say something back when he kisses you and every word you thought fades away. It’s gentle at first but he doesn’t break contact even as he moves you to your bedroom.
You work the buttons of his chambray shirt with your fingers. It’s damp from the rain outside, clings to his skin more as you peel it away, move down to undo his belt.
His kisses are becoming more familiar, more desperate by the second, as though you’ll stop him, you’ll tell him it’s over at a moment’s notice.
He guides you to your bed. 
His fingers skim the bare skin on your hip where your top has risen up with the movement, then  he traces up your waist to the edge of your breasts.
“You okay? This okay?” Are we okay? He’s asking that too you realise.
“More than,” you whisper, nod, and then wrap your arms around his neck to bring him back closer to you because you need him close, you need him.
He pulls you up to ease your shirt off, to unclip and remove your bra, kisses the hollow of your throat and traces a line down to your breasts.
Joel Miller might be terrible with words, but you realise he communicates in other ways.
He moves his right hand down to the edge of your jean, into your underwear and you bite back a groan at the heat building between your legs as he slips a finger inside you.
You moan as he finds the spot he knows turns you into putty.
“Joel -”
“I know,” he says, removing his fingers and making you gasp.
He tugs your jeans and underwear off, places a kiss on the inside of your knee as he uses his hands to prise you open more as he works soft kisses up your thigh to between your legs.
You buck against him as he presses his tongue against you. You grasp his hair as he kisses, sucks and teases you to oblivion. You shudder against him as you come and he eases himself up over you, kisses you so you can taste yourself on him.
“I need you,” you say, “Joel, I need you.”
“I need you too, you get that, right?” he asks before pulling off his own jeans, his boxers. He kisses you fiercely as he lines himself up and sinks into you.
As he moves in you, he wordlessly tells you everything you needed to know. It’s in each thrust, each sound, the way his hands entwine and interlock with yours as he gets even deeper.
Afterwards, after both of you have collapsed into each other, let go completely, he moves so he’s lying next to you.
His body glistens with sweat and you absentmindedly trace a scar on his shoulder. He kisses your hand and then looks at you seriously.
“You know?” he asks, running a finger down your cheek. “You know now, right?”
“Yeah, I do,” you whisper, because you think you’re finally a step closer to figuring this man out. You get it now, you get it.
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danothan · 6 months
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just a reminder that you can call your reps everyday and leave voice messages outside of office hours! calls usually go to congressional staffers if not interns who tally up the amount of calls made for which specific issues. these numbers are then passed along to the representative in question. don’t worry abt how you sound, you don’t need to persuade anyone over the phone. this is a numbers game, so the more calls you can make, the more that tally goes up. it takes no time, none of my calls even go for a minute, just makes sure you speak clearly so they know which issue to count for
the scripts i’ve been using have been collected from other ppl who have made calls or simplified from email scripts. they’re geared towards ppl in the US, but your call can be as simple and straightforward as asking for a ceasefire in gaza:
“Hi, I’d like to leave a comment with [representative] to say that I strongly oppose the US’s relations with Israel and stand strongly with Palestine, and I’m asking that [representative] do the same. I urge [him/her] to vote FOR House Resolution 786 and AGAINST any bill that supports Israel, and I will be basing my vote in the upcoming elections on how [he/she] chooses to proceed.”
“Hi, I noticed that [representative] is cosponsoring the Israel Supplemental Appropriations Act, and I do not support my taxpayer money aiding in Israel’s occupation of Palestine. So I strongly urge that [he/she] reevaluates and conditions this assistance to prevent anymore human rights violations.”
“I’m calling because I noticed that [representative] is standing with Israel, and I just wanted to say that I don’t support my taxpayer money aiding in Israel’s occupation of Palestine. Our priority should be preventing Israel from causing anymore destruction to Palestine, and I hope [he/she] stands with Cori Bush’s Ceasefire Now Act.”
“I’m calling in from [my district] abt House Resolution 768: The Extreme Risk Protection Order Expansion Act. I noticed that [representative] is NOT a cosponsor of this resolution. If that’s true, I just wanted to pass along my support and hope that [he/she] votes against HR 768 with how it stands by Israel.” (you can check on govtrack.us)
“Hi, I would like to urge [representative] to stand with Palestine and to defund Israel. I hope [he/she] votes NO to house resolution 768 and YES to house resolution 786.”
“Hi, I noticed that [representative] is pushing for an act that will prevent all aid from reaching Gaza, and I’m horrified that this decision is even being introduced. I urge [representative] to reevaluate [his/her] priorities and recognize that Palestine is who we need to stand with, not Israel.”
“Hi, I’m calling abt the upcoming negotiations for a 5-day ceasefire in Gaza that will allow aid to pass through, and I strongly urge [representative] to support this decision.”
“I’d like to voice my concern for [representative’s] support for Israel and ask that [he/she] cosponsor Cori Bush’s Ceasefire Now Resolution and OPPOSE the $14.6 billion in weapons aid to Israel.”
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