#can you see right through me taylor + paintings
Text
the one where clarisse learns about her love language
"Late in the night, the city's asleep
Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep
Change my priorities
The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift
summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind
pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader
word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh
tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder
masterlist // ask box
No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were.
You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did.
“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?”
“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone.
“Rude!”
“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder.
“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”
The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there.
“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”
“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”
He shook his head.
“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted.
“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”
Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset.
“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”
He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear.
“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”
“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”
“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.
“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”
“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.
“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”
“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating.
Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion.
Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her.
“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”
“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”
Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag.
You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was.
But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her.
“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you.
“Will! What are you doing here?”
“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag.
Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at.
“y/n?,” Will called for you.
“What?” you didn’t look at him.
“y/n!”
“What?” you gave him a quick glance.
“Something’s wrong.”
That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though.
“What?”
“Don’t you see the trap?”
“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood.
It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her.
“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will.
Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious.
“Fuck.”
You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers.
“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.
“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse.
Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier.
You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.
“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him.
You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.
“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”
You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow.
“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”
“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”
Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive.
“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed.
Lee slapped his arm.
“What!” Michael rubbed his arm.
“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”
“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.
“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.
Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly.
“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”
“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”
They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too.
“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said.
“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”
“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”
“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”
“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”
“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.
“Maybe,” you shrugged.
Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner.
Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far.
“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”
Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights.
“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”
You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.
“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.
“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also.
“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”
“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed.
You whipped around, standing up before backing away.
“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her.
Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly.
“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself.
You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed.
“You should drink a bit.”
She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink.
“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”
She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side.
“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.”
Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat.
There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.
“What’s wrong?” you worried.
“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips.
You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.
“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on.
You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.
“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.
You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work.
“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean.
“I was hungry.”
“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”
Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down.
“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured.
“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter.
You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.
“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile.
“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.
“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”
“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her.
Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier.
“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”
This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.
“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”
Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?
Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that.
By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.
“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.
“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t..
“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”
“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged.
“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder.
You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain.
“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said.
“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”
“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”
“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”
“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”
“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”
“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile.
She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.
“What the hell!”
‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”
Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before.
It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in.
“You’re being weird,” he said.
“I’m not!”
“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”
“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.
“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch.
“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”
“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.”
“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”
“Then you come back here, and the end.”
“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”
When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere.
“Clarisse?” you called her name.
She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her.
“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.
Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’.
“What happened?” you frowned.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”
“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”
But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady.
“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.
“I was practising with my brothers.”
You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs.
“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound.
“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”
“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”
“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned.
“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”
She suppressed a smile.
“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”
You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you.
“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”
“I do,” she affirmed.
That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt.
One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning.
“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!”
Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell.
“I just fell,” she explained.
“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you smiled.
“Oh.”
Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag.
“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”
She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head.
“Did you paint that?” she asked.
The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.
“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”
“Two planets?”
“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.
“Linked by a thread?”
“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”
“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused.
“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”
You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.
“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”
“Sure.”
“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.
“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.
“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”
“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced.
“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”
Clarisse hummed in agreement.
“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes.
“Okay.”
Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms.
“Don’t go,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still.
The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.
“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you.
“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.
“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.
“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile.
You both left to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her.
“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered.
You shook your head.
“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”
Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock.
“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”
“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”
“Ah.”
“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”
“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”
“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”
“Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”
“Fine.”
But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee.
“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears.
“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.
“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”
Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out.
“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.
“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.
“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.
“I will punch you in the face.”
Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“I’m not scared, unlike you.”
“What–.”
“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”
“I–,” she froze.
Was she making you miserable?
“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.
“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”
Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again.
“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”
And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.
You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse.
“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.
“I don’t know,” you whispered back.
“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”
“Yea, me too,” you sighed.
Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field.
“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.
“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch.
“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”
“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”
“He did this?” you gasped.
“Yeah.”
You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.
“And?” you asked.
“He said I was making you miserable.”
“That’s not true!” you insisted.
“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.
“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”
“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”
“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”
“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.
“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”
“No it’s different–.”
“It’s not! It’s fi—.”
“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out.
Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession.
“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms.
“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”
“Really?” she stared at you.
You nodded.
“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.
“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Anything you want.”
“A kiss?”
Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist.
“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”
#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue fanfic#clarisse x you#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue pjo#clarisse la rue fluff#clarisse la rue#pjo x reader#clarisse pjo#clarisse la rue x fem!reader
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breakup songs
tags: fluff! (I promise), established relationship, taylor swift songs
"cause i was there when you said forever and always...you didn't mean it baby," you sang passionately with the car's radio. "i don't think-"
the music stopped suddenly. "i don't like this song," sae itoshi grumbled. "pick something else."
you frowned, turning in your seat to face your long term boyfriend. like a good driver, he kept his eyes on the road, expression passive.
"but i like it," you huffed. "and you said i get aux privileges for the next week."
bright teal eyes flicked over you for a moment. "no."
your jaw dropped. "sae! at least tell me why."
"just pick a new song, y/n." his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. "or i'll do it for you."
pouting, you opened your spotify. "stupid football players and their stupid egos. so used to getting everything they want," you mumbled.
sae ignored your complaints.
"you better like this one."
for the nth time that day, taylor swift's oh so familiar voices leaked through from the high quality speakers all around the car:
"once upon a time, a few mistakes ago-"
sae's hand jumped up to hit the power button. "we're going in silence."
you sputtered nonsensically. "it's another hour until our destination! what's wrong with my music?"
he opened his mouth and closed it. as you fired at him, sae itoshi shrugged silently.
you leaned back into the leather seats, crossing your arms. you couldn't understand why sae was being so shifty. it's not like he had ever minded your music choices before.
in fact, the pro football player had always let you belt out any song you wished, even joining in with enough pleading. it was only in the past week or so that he'd been more annoyed.
frowning, you chewed on your lip nervously. this wasn't a good sign, was it? maybe sae had finally gotten sick of you- found someone better.
you saw him glance at you again. avoiding any eye contact, you turned your gaze toward your hands.
god, when was the last time you had gotten your nails done? your previous polish - a reddish color that matched sae's hair - was chipping from all sides already. you almost frantically picked at the peeling paint.
"y/n," sae's voice was steady. "leave your nails alone."
you jumped, head snapping towards him. "huh?"
he raised one eyebrow, pointedly staring at your hands.
you reddened. "it's not a big deal- keep your eyes on the road. pretend i'm not here or something."
with a narrowing of his eyes, sae turned back to the road.
it was another three miles before you heard him sigh.
"they're breakup songs," sae muttered quietly.
"what?"
the light in front of them flashed red. with another sigh, sae turned his upper body toward you.
"your music. they're always breakup songs now. that's why i don't like them."
you gaped at him, feeling way too much like a goldfish. "what?"
he stared at you. anyone would have assumed he was as indifferent as ever, but you could see that hint of red climbing up his neck.
sae itoshi was embarrassed.
"you're kidding!" you blurted, grinning like a maniac.
he immediately turned his attention back towards the road, but even he couldn't hide the twitch of his lips.
"you're sad because i sing breakup songs?" you managed out past your laughs. "sae, that's so cute!"
"and now i take it all back," he mumbled.
you leaned towards him suddenly, landing a kiss right onto his cheek. sae cursed, car swerving slightly.
"y/n, what-"
"i love you," you said breathlessly, effectively shutting him up. "and i would never break up with you, no matter what taylor swift says."
he snorted. when he replied, his voice was soft all the same. "i love you too."
"...can i have my music back now?"
sae groaned, but there were no complaints as you eagerly tapped through your phone once again.
"we can leave the christmas lights up till january..."
reblogs & feedback appreciated!!
#blue lock#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#this is so self indulgent tbh#my way of coping with Taylor breakup#hydrobunny
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dbf!simon is very much dear john by taylor swift coded
my goodness?? no yea absolutely!! im??? WHAT???? i cant move on, this hurts terribly
toxic!dbf!biker!simon was sent to me so i can hurt all of us and yk what? im actually sorry for this one because dear gods simon is mean
!! made simon unlikeable (ooc, even) and im really sorry for that; suggestive; age gap; power imbalance // biker!simon mlist // prev - 01, 02
simon’s late.
of course he is. when was he ever on time? when has he ever prioritized you above all else?
he said he’d pick you up at six and promised that he’d bring you the helmet that’s only ever reserved for you. it’s a pretty pink one with a little skull painted on the right top of the shell, personally customized by simon.
“reminds me of you, sweet girl,” he whispered the first time he presented it to you, grinning as though he’s the only man who’s made you feel special; as though he knows he is.
he promised to bring his bike because he said it’s faster; because he said he’s got somewhere to bring you. some place, probably in the outskirts of the city, where he can spoil you. because that’s all you are to him anyway: a secret. a fling. someone who he knows he can always turn to.
and you should’ve known that simon’s promises are ephemeral. that all that they’re good for is to make your stomach swoop and your heart flutter, long enough that when the betrayal hits, it hits harder. you should’ve known that his promises are but cacophonies that get smothered in the wind because simon doesn’t follow through. he never has.
but you never learn, huh?
too busy being in love, too busy being starry eyed. too busy counting down the hours, minutes, seconds because for some reason, for some stupidly heartbreaking reason, you think he loves you back. you think that he even can.
you think that once simon comes, he’ll be all apologetic, begging for your forgiveness as he whimpers his i’m sorry’s and his i’ll do better’s on your forehead or on your cheeks or even on your lips. that he’ll cradle you in his arms like the precious jewel that you are, careful and tender, before helping you get on his bike.
but an hour has already passed and the next hour is just eleven minutes away from being completed, still, simon has yet to show up. your messages remained unseen and your calls continued to be unreturned.
you’ve bitten your lips raw, not enough to bleed but just enough that you feel the sting whenever you sigh. you’ve taken to walking around the lounge area of the library to stretch your legs out and to give your numb butt a break, occasionally bumbling towards the water dispenser to grab a quick drink, because you wished that all these little things can eat up time faster. you wished that if you just distracted yourself enough, then time will speed up and simon will finally come.
still-
“hello everyone, the library will be closing soon. i repeat, the library will be closing soon. please proceed to the checkout for those who want to bring home items, otherwise, thank you so much for coming in today! we open at 09:00 am tomorrow!”
oh.
you gather your things with a sigh, pretending that the back of your eyes aren’t stinging as tears begin to prick and pool. you ignore your trembling fingers as you swipe at your phone again, checking to see if simon’s called or messaged, only to feel the remaining pieces of your heart shatter at seeing nothing from him at all. you throw your phone back in your bag before zipping it close and slinging it on your back. you stomp out of the library, your breaths stuttering at the weight of your heartache.
you fall into a quiet autopilot as you get on the bus and trek back to the dorms. you remember that your mom had asked if you were going to come visit soon and you decide that perhaps what you need is a change of scenery for now so you dig for your phone just to tell her you’ll be home for the weekend, dutifully ignoring the desire to check if simon’s replied.
(it takes a heartbeat before you do check, thrums of morbid anticipation being chased away by the lack of notifications from him. this seals your need to flee back home.)
you mumble a hello to your roommate and to her girlfriend before locking yourself in your room to pack a duffel bag. you continue to pretend that you are not hyperaware of your phone as you stuff your bag with clothes, your laptop, and your books.
a knock brings you back to reality.
“hey lovie?” your roommate asks, her voice trembling from exhaustion.
“yeah?” you respond as you pad towards the door and open it for her. she smiles when she sees you. “what’s up?”
“someone’s downstairs, buzzing for you.”
“oh,” you say because you already know who it is.
“yeah,” she replies, standing up taller in sudden attentiveness, her previous sleepiness dispelled at hearing the dejected timbre of your voice. “you want me to chase him off?”
“no!”
you cringe at the ferocity of your reply, which makes her flinch, and you awkwardly clear your throat when the moment settles.
her girlfriend peeks around the corner to check on you two. “everythin’ alright?”
“yeah,” you say, coughing. “i, uh. i got it, thanks.”
you wave off their concern as you snag your keys from the counter and slide into your shoes before taking the elevator back down. you worried your bottom lip again, your brows furrowed as reality rushed back into you—simon’s come to your dorm. simon’s come to you.
you play with your fingers as you step out of the building, your lungs constricting at seeing simon parked just a few feet away. his helmeted head is turned towards the entrance of your building, and even though he’s got his face hidden by the visor, you know simon’s seen you.
still, he doesn’t stand.
he doesn’t make any effort to come to you. so you stay there by the building, blinking your eyes at him, waiting for simon to come close. for simon to be the one to take that first step into apologizing—because why else would he be here if not for that? if not for a pitiful and pathetic apology which you will digest as you are starved of any inkling of affection from simon?
but simon continues to remain still and even if you are desperate for everything he has to give, a bigger part of you knows this is too much. so you turn, sniffling as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes, and move to walk back into your dorm building.
“love, wait!” simon calls, but you remain facing the building even as your ears pick up the sound of scuffed boots against gravel, speeding towards you.
you whimper when simon’s hand closes around your wrist, tugging so that you are facing him again. his helmet’s still on but the visor’s pushed up and you bite a whine when your eyes meet his stormy ones.
“i said ‘wait,’ sweetheart,” simon murmurs, his hold tightening before he tugs you ever so closer to him. close enough that you see the lines on his face and the lone scar that runs from the side of his temple before disappearing into the tresses of his hair. close enough that you smell a faint vanilla sticking to his leather jacket. close enough that you see a littering of faint hickeys on his exposed neck.
“fuck you.”
simon’s head rears, not expecting the vitriol from your voice. he barks out a laugh.
“where’d my sweet girl go?”
“i’m not your fucking sweet girl!” you snarl, shaking his hold off of you. “i’m not your fucking anything!”
simon sighs like you are being difficult on purpose. like you are the one at fault. like you are the one who made him wait for two hours as he hanged onto the promise that you whispered to him nights ago. like you are the one who didn’t show up and forced him to find his way back home even amidst his heartache. like you are the one who chose to fuck someone even when you knew he was waiting for you.
because simon knew. he wouldn’t be here in front of you if he didn’t.
and isn’t it almost laughable how you thought he was going to apologize?
“love, is this about-”
“just leave, mr. riley,” you breathe out, the fire of anger that burned within you was extinguished into quiet sputters of your agony. “i made it back anyway. you don’t have to be here anymore.”
simon huffs a humourless laugh, the sound almost resembling a growl instead. “oh, so i’m ‘mr. riley’ now?” he pulls you even closer. “what happened to calling me ‘simon’? or even ‘si’?”
he leans towards you, his helmet bumping your head. “what happened to calling me ‘daddy’?”
simon steps back far enough that your hand misses his head, a hit that would’ve been futile anyway given his helmet.
you choke on your sob, the sound ripping from the base of your throat and tumbling into the cool air. and even then, even amidst the display of your heartbreak, simon continues to just stare you down.
“fuck you,” you repeat, your voice a quiet rasp.
simon hums, his boots crunching against the gravel as he turns. then, he says, “call me when y’r ready to talk to me like a mature person, kid.”
you run back into your building, not bothering to respond to him or to watch him drive off. you barely make it into the elevator before you crumple to your knees, your head dizzy with the intensity of your misery, your heart shredded into pieces.
made myself tear up too yey!!! @prttyangelz u got me sobbing teehee <333
#suns.f#prttyangelz#dbf!simon#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley angst#simon ghost riley#simon riley#suns#ask#PLEASE DONT GET MAD ST ME FOR THIS!! i just love dabbling into diff aus :((
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happy wife, happy life
summary: flights on air verstappen, a game of padel, and declarations of love + a little insta au at the end 💌
words: 919
a/n: here’s part two to better together. i’m considering making this a multi-part story so let me know if that’s something you’d want! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
"Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo, Las Vegas, Abu Dhabi. Any preference?"
Lando’s voice was drowned out by the celebratory air coursing through McLaren Hospitality. He was calling from his driver room in Lusail, still soaked in champagne after a phenomenal comeback drive.
“I think you’ve earned the right to pick. My God, three podiums in a row, Lando!”
You squealed, as if you weren’t speaking to the very man who had accomplished this feat.
After a quick pause, he replied, “Vegas, it is then. I think I can secure seats on Air Verstappen if I use my charm.”
-
Max, the first of Lando's friends you’d been introduced to, extended his hand as you stepped onboard.
"So, this is 'airport girl.' I've heard quite a bit about you," he said, stealing glances at a blushing Lando.
You shook his hand. "Only good things, I hope."
The setting sun painted the cabin a soft orange as dinner was served, seamlessly shifting the conversation toward plans for the weekend. "Are we still up for padel on Friday?" Max asked, the anticipation evident in his voice.
"We're short a player. Jon busted his shoulder last week, so I'm in need of an alternate," Lando replied.
Max gestured towards you. "She's right next to you, mate."
Mid-bite, you wagged your finger at both Max and Lando. Racket sports weren’t your forte, and the idea of padel with ragingly competitive Formula 1 drivers made you queasy.
-
You’d assumed the 12-hour flight had been long enough for Lando to let go of the whole idea. He, however, promptly proved you wrong as he lifted your bags into the back of a blacked-out Escalade.
“Remember that book you were reading? The one about love languages?” You nodded, climbing into the car.
“Well, I figure my love language is quality time. And what better way to spend our time than with a game of padel?”
You hesitated, jokingly glaring at him. "I never thought that book was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”
“Karma is your boyfriend,” he whispered as he laced his fingers around yours.
The casual mention of "boyfriend" (and his general knowledge of Taylor Swift lyrics) caught you off guard and, as your heart raced, you made a desperate effort to maintain composure. You couldn’t possibly say no to his desperate gaze and, so with a loud sigh, you caved.
-
The days that followed felt more like a haze. DJ Lando stole the show at Omnia, carrying a wasted Oscar home in the aftermath. Golfer Lando took you to glow-in-the-dark mini-golf, subsequently blaming his loss on a lack of practice (“You should see me at my best”). F1 Lando gave you a little peck before disappearing into the media pen. You’d been so engrossed in it all that you were on the padel court before you knew it.
As the points went back and forth, you and Lando found yourselves in a playful dispute over who was the rightful owner of the five dollars you’d won at the slots. Lando had paid but you had pushed the button that had brought you sweet victory.
Max quickly interjected, "Maybe you two should save the bickering for the post-game press conference."
George, echoing Max, teased, "He’s got a point. Beware or you’ll be immortalized as a sassy TikTok sound.”
“You know, I’m here to fight. I’m here to win.” Lando said, taunting George as he prepared to serve.
Much to everyone’s surprise, you and Lando turned out to be a stellar team, securing a hard-fought win. Instead of the traditional champagne spray, you spritzed a sweaty Lando with your perfume.
"I smell like you now," he said with a smirk.
You caught your breath on a bench as George strutted over, towering over you.
"You’re already on his mind 24/7. Now, you want to linger on his clothes too? Greedy!"
As you and Lando were about to head back to the car, a few fans hurried over, their elation palpable.
“We’re huge fans, Lando. Could we get a quick photo before you go?”
Lando was quick to oblige and asked you to hold their gifts (a snapback and a handful of bracelets). You offered to take photos of him with the girls, his aura radiant as he took his time to thank each of them.
Little did either of you know, the photos of you and him at the padel courts would soon be circulating all over social media, your phones blowing up with notifications from countless F1 gossip accounts.
-
In the dim glow of the car's interior, you caught a glimpse of him, jaw clenched and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. The not-so-soft hum of the engine roared as you cut through the tension.
"Hey, what’s on your mind?"
"I just never want you to feel suffocated by all the noise that comes with being my girlfriend."
"Your girlfriend?" you teased, masking your anticipation with feigned innocence.
He sighed, his hands momentarily tightening on the steering wheel. The car smoothly veered into an old gas station, its solitary lights flickering in the night.
He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "Will you be my girlfriend?"
A smile lit up your face. "I thought I already was.”
He shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and affection on his face. "You truly are impossible, y’know."
"Snap a picture of your girl then, Mr. JPG," you quipped.
His hands searched the backseat for his Leica.
"Happy wife, happy life.”
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
liked by martingarrix, yourusername, and 41,414 others
landonorris: on a roll! two more to go 👊🏼
ciscanorris: couldn’t be more proud. i sense a mclaren 1-2 coming!
mclaren: mother knows best ✨
fan1: king of the soft launch
oscarpiastri: let’s finish the season off strong!
maxverstappen1: some of the line calls made by your doubles partner were questionable 🤨
max_fewtrell: a partner other than i? whoever could it be?
landonorris: i’m starting to doubt my friendships with guys named max
fan2: i’m all for it so long as mystery girl gives us the boyfriend content we deserve 🫶🏼
tags 📝
@silverstonesainz @monzabee @sainzcaleruega @vamossainz55 @0-atmilklatte @aacherrylips @merchelsea @al-luvx @itsjustkhaos @allenajade-ite @simp4f1 @strawberrysainz @avenger122 @405rry @lpab @thebrccoliwasdone @antiheroleclerc
#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris edit#lando norris#f1 x you#lando norris fluff#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 instagram au#lando norris one shot#lando norris instagram edit#lando norris fic#lando norris instagram au
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lavender haze (k.b.)
Summary: when the reader is injured and kaz kills someone for them (oops), they come to a realization of their feelings.
Pairing(s): kaz brekker and reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, mentions of death
Genre: a bit of angst, but with a fluffy ending
Author's Note: this is part of the midnights saga (inspired by taylor swift's midnights ofc) but can be read as a oneshot or as part of the series once i've written more :)) send me requests for kaz if you so desire. only 54 days until season two of sab releases let's goooooo
“This was not the plan,” you shouted to Jesper, dodging a fist hurtling toward your face. Your muscles burned with exertion, and your skin ached with bruises from being shoved down the stairs by the targets who somehow knew you were coming. It wasn't your most graceful moment, getting pushed down hard, splintered wooden stairs. You landed at a guard's feet, to boot. An excellent start to what seemed like such an easy heist: get in, grab the rolled-up canvases of forged paintings and get out and back to the Slat before anyone could notice anything amiss.
"I think I know that," he snapped back, ripping his pistol from its holster and using it to bash his attacker in the head. The guard groaned and slumped to the wooden floor, dazed. Jesper took the chance to aim his pistol at the man trying to lock you in a chokehold. "Can you get him to stop moving?"
"I'm going to kill you if you shoot me," you snarled, bringing your knee to the man's gut and bashing his temple with your pistol. He crumpled, and you kicked the man's chest once he was on the ground. It seemed fair after shoving you down the stairs and possibly breaking your ribs. It ached horribly to breathe, and your wrist throbbed when you flexed it. Sprained, no doubt. There was no time to worry about that because another idiotic guard thundered down the stairs right toward you with two lackeys behind him.
Where were Inej, Kaz, and Nina?
You pulled the trigger on your pistol, taking a nonlethal shot at the first guard's thigh, sending him tumbling down the stairs with a shriek. See? That's how it feels, asshole.
Jesper handled the second one, and you went for the third, going for the arm this time. He howled in pain and clutched his arm, nearly tripping over his feet.
"Where's-?" you began, then your hair prickled on the back of your neck. Spinning around, you were greeted with a bash to the face. You collapsed to the ground, and your head hit the floor with an impact that rattled your teeth. You gasped for air, and black spots danced across your vision. The world spun too fast on its axis. Nothing was in focus. Distantly, Jesper shouted. You thought he was fighting the man who hit you.
Pain blossomed between your ribs, and you screamed. The world snapped sharply back into focus long enough to glimpse your attacker's face, concealed by a black scarf wrapped tightly around his head. His eyes were black as coal and filled with pure rage as he stabbed you, twisting the blade to inflict as much damage as possible.
You sobbed as he pulled the dagger free. Something sharp and metallic was bubbling in your throat, threatening to choke you. It bubbled out of your lips, painting them red and sliding down your cheek. The world around you disappeared, and you floated on nothing.
People talked, there was shouting, then more burning on your chest. Someone apologizing. A hand pressed between your ribs over your wound.
"No more," you thought you said. "Please."
You were dying. You could recognize that much.
As the chains of death fastened themselves around your wrists, cold metal biting your feverish skin, you thought of Kaz. His piercing blue eyes, how his coat looked against his pale skin, the way he brushed his fingers through his hair as he concocted heists. How he said your name so softly that you wondered if he felt the same way you did about him. Fluttery, light, hoping to give him a smile and have him smile back. All you wanted was a smile from Kaz, even if he didn't feel that same fluttering as your eyes caught.
Now you wouldn't even get that.
The world disappeared.
And then it came back.
You woke with dry lips and a pounding head. Your throat burned from a lack of water, and everything around you was blurry from unconsciousness.
You looked around at your room in the Slat. How did I get here? Shouldn't I be greeting the Saints now, not feeling like shit with water leaking from the roof onto my head?
Someone leaned forward in a creaky chair beside you, and you saw his cane before you saw him. He was sitting in a chair haphazardly shoved in the corner. It hadn't been there before you'd died, nor had Kaz. He'd never even been in your room before.
"Hi," you rasped. Internally, you winced. Hi? That's the best you could say? You died while thinking of him, and you can only muster 'hi?' Maybe you could be stabbed again and start this over.
Kaz looked you over, his face carefully arranged into a mask of neutrality. But his hair was greasy and falling into his eyes, and he had dark shadows under his eyes that made him look like he'd been punched in the face. "How are you feeling?" His voice was almost just as blank as his face. But underneath his words was.. concern. He was worried. About you.
Where the hell had you gone after you died? In what world did Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, show any emotion?
"Am I dead?" you asked him. You experimentally tried to sit up, but your chest screamed at you in pain, and Kaz's cane shot out. The tip pressed against the wall beside your bed, and you were blocked from getting up.
Kaz was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "What were you thinking? Why did you try to take all of them at once?"
"Jesper and I had it handled." Your throat throbbed, and Kaz seemed to realize that speaking was difficult. He held out a glass of water, and you lifted your head. Carefully, he tipped some of the liquid down your throat. You swallowed and sighed in relief.
"You nearly died," Kaz said. He placed the glass of water on the ground and stood, removing the cane from where it blocked you and thumping it against the floorboards. "It was reckless." His voice was lined with anger.
Anger sparked in your chest. "I woke up after being out for?"
"Three days," Kaz gritted out, whirling to face you. His eyes were ablaze, and you nearly shrunk under that look. It was so unlike him, usually so cold and stoic, that having that emotion directed at you was startling. But you didn't back down and forced yourself into a sitting position despite the searing pain and stiff bandages around your chest.
"Three days, and the first thing you do is decide to yell at me? I'm sorry I almost died, but I would appreciate it if you could wait to lecture me until I'm not about to keel over from pain."
His jaw flexed. He was furious. Much more than you realized. His eyes closed, and his chest expanded and contracted as he took a deep breath. "You nearly died," he said again. His voice was calmer now, and you found yourself softening. "When Inej and I found you nearly bleeding out while Jesper tried to stem the blood, I wanted to kill the person who did this to you." He inhaled again and turned his back to you.
He was silent for a few long moments. "Kaz?" you whispered. He was within your reach but felt so far away. Especially since he didn't like to be touched, and you didn't dare push that boundary to get his attention.
"I did," he admitted. "While Nina worked on you, Jesper and I followed him, and I killed him."
You didn't prompt him to continue this time. He so rarely shared his thoughts. You didn't want to ruin this.
"Killing him didn't keep you from nearly dying," he said quietly. "Your heart stopped. I thought I'd never..." The words died in his throat.
Your hand twitched with the urge to reach out to him. He was trying to say what he felt, but Kaz Brekker wasn't good with emotions. He hadn't been since he nearly drowned in the harbor.
"You said my name while you slept," he said roughly. He turned back to face her, his blue eyes on fire with something you struggled to identify immediately. Later, you recognized it as desperation.
He needed you to say it. He worked so hard to keep all his emotions beneath the surface that they refused to come to him when he called. He felt them all, burning beneath his skin, pleading to be shared, only to disappear when summoned.
You didn't struggle as intensely. "I thought of you when I was dying," you breathed. The words were quiet, shy. Almost ashamed that you hadn't thought of someone else, like your best friend from home. "I thought of you smiling."
Kaz nearly laughed out of sheer amazement. "You've never seen me smile."
Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. "But I want to. And I thought I would die without seeing it at least once."
The room was so silent your ears almost started ringing. Then the floorboards creaked, and Kaz sat in the chair beside your bed again. You exhaled slowly, relieved that he didn't open the door and disappear. It was the worst-case scenario that had haunted your dreams. But he hadn't, and he was back beside you again. It was closer than you'd ever expected to be to him.
"Don't die on me again, and maybe you will see it," he said. He rested his cane against the wall and stretched out his legs. Behind his words was relief. You understood what he was trying to say and felt the same, and you were alive. He had the chance to say this to you. For the first time in a long time, Kaz found himself nearly thanking the Saints.
Your heart leaped into your throat as you looked over and met his eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, and his lip quirked up in the corners, ever-so-slightly. You smiled back and looked down at your hands.
You were on the precipice of something new. It was something you'd wanted for so long that you couldn't believe this was real.
"I'm still going to lecture you for almost dying," Kaz said, breaking the silence. He looked at you seriously, but a glimmer of something danced in his eyes. Despite the threat, you couldn't help but wheeze a quiet laugh.
"I expect nothing less, Boss."
#kaz brekker#crooked kingdom#leigh bargudo#six of crows#kaz brekker x reader#soc fanfic#shadow and bone#sab season 2#gender neutral reader#jesper fahey#soc inej#inej ghafa#the crows#wylan van eck#nina zenik#matthias helvar#midnights but make it kaz brekker#shadow and bone netflix#six of crows duology#six of crows fanfic
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this love is ours - jamie tartt x reader
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary: after officially starting to date Jamie, the media figures out who you are. Judgment comes in from all places - news outlets, social media, family members - but Jamie puts all that doubt out of your mind. based off the song ours by taylor swift. features appearances from Keeley and Roy.
word count: 2.5k
Warnings: language, angst, fluff social media bullying & hate, reassurance and comfort from Jamie
A/N: This could technically be part two to gold rush but you don’t need to have read that one to understand what’s going on in this imagine. Hope you enjoy!
Seems like there's always someone who disapproves
They'll judge it like they know about me and you
And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do
The jury's out, but my choice is you
Even on a beautiful Saturday afternoon out on the Richmond Green, you and Jamie somehow attracted the attention of a few invasive paparazzi.
“I thought the hat would be enough,” said Jamie, pulling the brim of his ‘icon’ hat further down his forehead.
The two of you walked off quickly down the path, keeping the photographers and their bright flashes at your backs.
You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging at his hand in yours. “Jamie, you wear that hat everywhere. People recognize it pretty easily.”
“I’m not the only person in the world with this hat.”
“Maybe not, but you made it popular.”
He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled at you. “Well now that we’ve left those annoying arseholes behind, what do you want for dinner?”
“Keeley invited us over for a couples night with her and Roy,” you reminded him. “Remember? We talked about it with Roy this morning after your training.”
“Nah, the granddad has a tendency to ramble on with ya about random stuff so I just thought ya were chattin’ with him.”
“Yeah, I was chatting with him about dinner with him and Keeley, which you agreed to, by the way, even in your post-workout haze.”
Jamie grumbled like a little kid. “Ugh, but I’d rather just stay home with you, get pizza or some takeout, and make out on the couch.”
You lifted your head up to his cheek to kiss it. “And we can do that – tomorrow night. Which is a night we didn’t agree to have dinner with Roy and Keeley.”
That seemed to satisfy him for the moment and the two of you made your way back home to your shared house.
“I’m going to go shower, babe!” he called as he headed upstairs.
“I’ll be here!” you called back.
You kicked off your shoes by the front mat and strode into the kitchen to grab some water. As you filled a glass from the filtered pitcher from the fridge, you scrolled through your instagram.
After making it official with Jamie, the two of you had decided to keep it quiet in terms of posting on social media. You’d told close friends and everyone at Richmond. Jamie’s mom and stepfather obviously knew, since it had been at their house that you’d made things official. But your family hadn’t taken it quite as well.
Being from the States, your family’s only impression of Jamie was the Richmond matches they streamed and his arc on Lust Conquers All, which hadn’t painted him in a flattering light. Of course, Jamie freely admitted that he was an all-out prick on the show and had publicly and privately apologized to those he had hurt while filming. But your family couldn’t exactly see past it. They were protective of you and worried about what Jamie might do in the relationship.
Thankfully, Ted and Beard, who knew your parents quite well, had reassured them that Jamie was not the person the media portrayed him as. This had seemed to quell their anxieties about their kid dating a superstar footballer with a notorious reputation for being a (as your mother so kindly put it) “man-whore.” But you, as well as everyone around you, knew that Jamie had changed.
Now the instagram comments you saw as you scrolled on your latest post of you and Jamie getting brunch together were of similar nature.
There were a few comments from your friends at Richmond – Keeley had commented, “I love you both so much and you are too cute together!” Sam had said, “the queen and king of Richmond;” while Rebecca put it plainly, “you are the best people and these photos are my new favorite of you both.”
Despite the many loving and supportive comments from friends and now people who had deemed themselves ‘fans’ of you (which felt quite strange, as you were merely the head physical therapist for the team and didn’t do anything that warranted ‘fans’), there were a good handful that were not quite as kind.
One person had written, “Jamie’s back in his pretending to be monogamous era - wonder how long that will last.”
You shook your head. You knew who Jamie had become and this wasn’t a phase for him. You scrolled on.
Another comment caught your eye. “Ew who are they? Jamie is way out of their league.”
And then more continued to pop up.
“Fuck them.”
“Why do they even bother? Jamie is going to dump them in like a week bet.”
“What are they wearing?”
“Jamie and Keeley will forever be endgame.”
“I liked it better when he was with Keeley.”
“Whatever happened to celebrities dating out of their league? This person is clearly a big step down for him.”
It was a rabbit hole of discouragement and darkness. And even after you exited out of Instagram trying to shake off the hate, more seemed to appear as you opened twitter. You’d been tagged in numerous disgusting tweets from multiple accounts.
“Go die no one likes u.”
“Why is your face like that and why does Jamie like it.”
“I bet he thinks of Keeley when they fuck. Lol I would.”
“You’re literally nobody and the fact that Jamie Tartt of all people is dating you is really pathetic.”
You shook your head, exiting out of twitter with a huff. You tossed your phone on the other couch cushion. It was difficult seeing so many people who thought they had a right to comment on your relationship saying such things on the internet. You knew coming into this that dating Jamie would be difficult in terms of hate on social media, but your fears were resurfacing.
Jamie wouldn’t actually believe all that stuff said about you. You knew that. But what if other people you knew saw it and agreed with it? What if you had to start dealing with people in real life saying that? Were you not good enough to be dating someone like Jamie?
The self-doubt began to creep in, like a mist slowly dragging itself over a hill. Your thoughts began to spiral.
You recognized the anxiety beginning to escalate and decided to watch something to distract yourself. You turned on the TV and tried to tune out the online ruckus.
About a half-hour later, Jamie came barreling down the stairs.
“Babe, Keeley just texted - I think we’re late for dinner,” he said, rushing to put on his shoes.
“Shit!” you cried, slamming the TV power button and quickly going back over to do the same as Jamie.
You both grabbed what you needed and quite literally ran out the door to Jamie’s car which was right next to the gates of your home.
As you sprinted to the passenger side door, a white light suddenly blinded you from beside the front gates.
It was like they appeared out of nowhere – two photographers with large lenses. And they were yelling your name.
“Hey, what’s it like to be with someone who clearly can’t commit?” one laughed.
“Getting tired of this one already, Tartt?” the other bellowed.
“Just fuck off!” exclaimed Jamie, waving his hand at them. “This is private property! Fuck off!”
You jumped into the car, shutting the door as fast as possible. You watched as Jamie flipped off the photographers, who took the last few pictures they wanted, and trudged away.
Jamie closed his door with more force than necessary and buckled his seatbelt. “Arseholes.” He turned to you, putting his hand on your leg gently. “Are ya okay?”
No. No, you weren’t okay. After reading through all those hateful comments and then being berated by paparazzi not just for pictures, but also with hurtful questions didn’t help your self-doubt. It seemed to be bubbling up from below into your heart.
But you didn’t want to ruin the mood more by admitting you were not okay, so all you could do was nod.
“Don’t let them get to you, alright? I love you and nothing’s gonna change that,” confirmed Jamie tenderly. His hand slid into yours.
Neither of you let go all the way to Keeley and Roy’s.
“Heya!” greeted Keeley from the front door as you and Jamie exited the car.
You forced a smile. “Hi, Keeley.”
“How ya doing, Keeley?” grinned Jamie. He gave her a big hug, and then you gave her one, too.
“Just peachy,” she replied, holding the door open for the both of you. “Roy’s inside getting the chicken all prepped. I think he’s trying something fancy tonight - chicken cordon bleu!”
“That is fancy,” you agreed. “He’s really upping his chef skills.”
“I’m not buyin’ that,”Jamie joked. “He’s making beans on toast.”
“Have some faith,” you nudged him playfully.
“I’ll put my faith in nothing until that chicken cordon bleu is sitting on my dinner plate.”
“You two are so cute,” awed Keeley as the three of you made your way to the kitchen.
You swallowed the lump in your throat at the comment, feeling sweat on your palms.
“Ey, if it isn’t the granddad himself!” cheered Jamie. “Making us something fancy, are ya?”
Roy was bent over the kitchen counter, slamming a meat tenderizer into pieces of flattened chicken. He turned with a scowl on his face and gestured at the younger man with the meat tenderizer.
“I’ll be flattening more than this fucking chicken if you keep that up, Tartt,” he growled.
“Aw, I’m terrified,” mocked Jamie.
“Stop it, you two,” ordered Keely good-naturedly as she kissed his cheek. “No one is flattening anything else ‘round here — especially body parts. Right, Roy?”
“I certainly wouldn’t be happy about it and neither would they,” Jamie chuckled, nodding his head at you.
Your smile was tight. You tried to make things light hearted as you wrapped an arm around Jamie’s bicep. “Yep. That’d be…tragic.”
Jamie peered down at you with a questioning glance. He knew something was up, but didn’t want to push it in front of Roy and Keeley.
Keeley gave you both drinks and you all went to sit outside on the patio as Roy finished up cooking in the kitchen.
Jamie and Keeley launched into immediate conversation and you tried your best to keep up and add things in here and there, but you were unusually quiet. Your mind kept drifting back to what you’d read online and what the paparazzi had screamed at you.
It was an endless circle of disappointment in yourself, anxiety, and self-consciousness. This infinite loop of darkness continued to crowd your mind, taking up all the space inside. A storm seemed have come into your psyche and it was doing a number on you.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket as Jamie and Keeley chatted about the towels in the locker room at Nelson Road.
Puzzled, you checked your texts. It was from your mom with a link to an article from a tabloid website.
“This doesn’t seem like a good thing, honey. What are you doing with a celebrity like that?”
That was the message your own mother had sent you about Jamie. You internally groaned. Then you clicked on the article. The headline was atrocious: HOW LONG WILL TARTT’S NEWEST FLING REALLY LAST? The pictures associated with it were from that very day on Richmond Green with you and Jamie walking hand-in-hand, clearly trying to outrun whoever was taking the photos. And then the worse ones – the paparazzi from outside your house had sold the pictures to this tabloid. They were grainy and ill-lit and had been very obviously edited. They had added weird width to your arms and even your head. The caption was “Tartt’s Partner has Gained some Weight!”
That was it for you. The dam had broken.
Tears were already spilling over by the time you’d suddenly stood from your chair and raced to the bathroom.
Both Jamie and Keeley called your name after you, and Roy had said it, surprised, from the kitchen as you rushed past.
You closed the door quietly, but didn’t have the willpower to sit anywhere else but on the floor next to the sink. You sobbed into your hands as silently as possible, but that didn’t work for long.
“Babe?” came Jamie’s voice through the door. “Babe, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
The desire to be alone was rapidly replaced by the need for Jamie.
You opened the door slowly, still seated by the sink. You kept your blood-shot gaze away from his for a moment as he stood there in silence.
When you looked up a moment later, your heart broke at his worried expression. His hands were shaking slightly.
“I’m just…overwhelmed,” you admitted hoarsely.
Jamie got down on the floor next to you, patting the space between his legs and reaching for you. You shuffled over to sit in his lap, your legs swung over one of his, arms going around his body and face sliding to nestle in his neck.
His arms wound around you protectively, rubbing your back and rocking back and forth slightly.
“Why are ya feeling overwhelmed, love?” he wondered gently.
You inhaled shakily, your face still buried in him. “I just…I’ve been getting a lot of hate comments and mean tweets lately. And then those paparazzi incidents today were awful and then my mom just texted me saying things like ‘why are you with him’ and ‘you shouldn’t be with someone like that.’ Then there was a link to this article that had pictures from today and they’d edited me to look horrible.”
Jamie sighed, his voice soft. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m truly so sorry. People are arseholes.”
“Why do they hate me so much?”
“They hate what they don’t have. They see us happy and they’re miserable, so they want to make us miserable. People throw rocks at things that shine.”
You moved your head off his neck so you could look him in the face. You smiled through your tears. “Did you just quote Taylor Swift at me?”
“I did,” he smiled. “But I’m not kidding. Media is fucked up. People on the internet are fucked up. They’re bored and feel the need to stick their stupid opinions where they’re not wanted.”
“It’s just so frustrating.”
“I know. But what matters is you and me. That’s it.”
“You’re right. You and me. That’s it.”
Jamie smirked mischievously. “Besides, they’re probably jealous you get to sleep with a hot footballer and they don’t.”
You laughed. “Jamie, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m not sleeping with Roy.”
Jamie laughed in return. “Oi! Ya don’t need to be an arsehole about it.”
You gazed happily at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I promise, forget all that shit. If you’re ever feeling this way again, just talk to me. I’ll make sure to let you know that all I need is you and you alone. This love is ours. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
You pressed your lips to his for a sweet kiss, feeling much more reassured.
“Now come on,” Jamie encouraged when he pulled away, “I’ve gotta see if Roy actually can cook.”
“I think he can, Jamie.”
“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x gn!reader#jamie tartt#jamie tartt fanfiction#ted lasso#ted lasso (show)#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt x y/n#keeley jones#roy kent#keely x roy#keeley jones x roy kent#uneditedidiot#gn!reader#jamie x reader#ted lasso fanfiction#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tartt angst#ours#ours taylor swift#taylor swift lyrics
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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
x. what a shame she's fucked in the head.
— the one where they tell you what your word is worth.
❝𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦❞ —𝘛𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵, 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵.
warnings: abuse downplay, bashing towards taylor swift (i obviously adore her pls don't come for me haha), online bullying, new york inaccuracies, corny taylor references per usual, etc. 2k words + articles
in my head there's a mix of begin again and cornelia street playing as background music.
masterlist ✢ next
NO one likes a mad woman, but not for the reasons Taylor Swift made you believe in the lyrics of her 2020 song. Although we are definitely afraid y/n might get 'more crazy'.
Honestly, who gave her the right to speak like that about Aidan Kim? As it turns out, the three-year relationships she willingly stayed on was a 'dead-end' one, and Aidan "abused" (and I cannot stress the quotations enough) her through several stages of their shared time.
Well, I call bullshit.
How is it that after Aidan Kim helped her build whatever she has going on that people call a 'career' she wasn't bothered about being told 'how to look and how to act' (direct quote from her own video, by the way).
Breaking up with your sneaky link and calling him your friend won't save what you did before, y/n, it's the oldes trick in the book. Everything she said in her Youtube video, one I regretfully watched despite the knowledge that I won't get those 45 minutes of my life back, is rehearsed and calculated and just tried to paint the real victims in a bad light.
Playing the victim worked for Taylor Swift in 2009, 2017, 2019... but we surely won't let it happen again, right folks? y/n needs a new tactic to crawl back from the hell, because we're not believing anything that comes out of her mouth anymore.
It's true what they say, an untalented actress makes an untalented liar.
By Lia Yim
Victoria Presley is worried about best friend's y/n y/ln's well-being after the actress 'completely ghosted her' since moving back to New York.
"One day we were fine and the next, she had packed her bags and left my house," Presley said in an exclusive interview with iNTouch. "I'm not going to lie, I was deeply hurt by her actions. I offered her my home as a safe haven and she left without explanation."
y/n had been living in Victorias Los Angeles home since mid-February until this month when she returned to her infamous SoHo apartment, one she shared with Aidan Kim until their breakup.
"I can find it in my heart to forgive her, of course," 'Vic', as she's known on social media, added. "Right now, I just want my best friend back. I want the y/n I've known for years and not this person she became since Matilde Bassi and Charles Leclerc inserted themselves in her life."
Victoria Presley, the founder and CEO of Presley Beauty, is the daughter of Luke Presley and Claire Walker and has been in the influencing business for a few years now.
"If y/n ends up reading this, I want her to know that I will support her decisions but not in the way her new 'friends' are doing. I just want what's best for her."
SEE ALSO:
→ Vic Presley on having to start from zero: "I'm not a nepobaby!"
→ A look inside y/n's SoHo apartment, the one Aidan Kim paid for.
→ Is Charles Leclerc's career going downhill thanks to y/n?
By Beatrice Mann
With y/n y/ln's latest controversy, the whole world has turned their backs on the actress. But, is it really that bad? Or is it just because she's a woman in the business?
The online community's hottest topic is y/n's Youtube video where she speaks on her relationship with Aidan Kim, her friendship with Charles Leclerc and, most importantly, how all of this has affected her career. And I want to tell you all, y/n is right.
If the roles were reversed, Aidan Kim would be thriving on a newly unlocked 'Heartbreaker' persona and y/n would still be constantly humiliated for not being 'wife material'.
I believe y/n deserves much better than what she's getting. The woman admitted she escaped a relationship where her partner LAUGHED at her and manipulated her actions for his comfort. And people are still siding with the man? Seriously, people, use your brains and dig up your morals!
The only thing we're communicating to younger generations by constantly doubting women's words and putting them in the spotlight for standing up for themselves, is that only men's words are worth something.
June 14th, Manhattan, New York.
It isn't much of a surprise when Charles calls you while you're trying to get your Moka pot to work that morning. It's your third attempt at it and the previous mornings you've left it alone with tears in your eyes to walk down the street and get Starbucks coffee. You might be a little too attached to that coffee maker.
Charles got to New York city the previous night, and reminded you that you promised to show him around more than once. You intended to keep your promise, thinking you would have more time before the day came.
But as you walk to the restaurant where you decided to meet him, you can't help but think how exciting it is that you get to show the city you love so much to Charles. And just like that morning in Monaco, you can't help but remind yourself that this is a friendly get-together.
Charles has slowly, but surely, become one of your closest friends in the middle of the frenzy that your life is. With your ex-best friend saying you walked out on her and your failed fiancé insisting that it was you, who acted like a 'total psychopath' towards the end of your relationship, you have more fingers than people you can count on.
You watch him carefully as he smooths the napkin on his legs twice and then drops in on the table again, fidgeting with the loose threads in the corner.
Your wristwatch says it's 10:00 am, which is the exact time you agreed to meet. You wonder how long he's been waiting if there's an empty cup of coffee in front of him.
"You know, it's also rude to be too early for a meeting," you say as a form of greeting once you approach the table.
This startles him enough to drop the napkin on his lap again, proceeding to scramble to return it to the table before pushing his chair out to get up.
You chuckle, but before you can say you were joking, Charles is engulfing you in a hug. Your stomach flutters because of the way he holds the back of your head with his palm. It feels like you're being reunited after months instead of just two weeks. Time doesn't feel real sometimes, you would know.
"Soleil!" he says excitedly, putting his hands on your shoulders. "It's so good to see you,"
"It's nice to see you too, Charlie."
There's the nickname again. You've tried not to think too hard about it. Is it a European thing to call your friends that? When you asked him about it the last time he called before taking his flight to New York, his response was a simple 'it suits you'.
Charles pulls your chair for you and grabs your purse to place it on the empty chair between you two. He grabs his napkin again, pulling one last time on a thread before smoothing it down and forgetting about it.
"How are you?" Charles asks, a bright smile on his face. It falters in a barely perceptible way because he doesn't want to give you bad thoughts, which seem to come automatically every time the question is asked.
"Well, I'm okay," you assure in a soothing tone, "Still looking for jobs. And you?"
"Alright. Lots of work in the simulator and I'm hoping this is a good weekend,"
"Are you sure you'll be okay getting to Montreal tomorrow?" you smile at the waitress that approaches your table, "Can I have some coffee, please?"
"Of course," Charles assures, with a gesture of his hand. He's getting to Montreal at seven in the morning and running straight to his motorhome. "There's time for everything."
"What do you want to do, then?"
You don't want to exhaust him by showing him around New York, he has a long weekend ahead. To be honest, you really wonder what compelled him to make this stop instead of going straight to Canada. Sure you had talked about him coming to New York, eventually. Not a day before he had to start his Grand Prix weekend.
"Anything you want us to do," he replies, the single-dimpled smile on his face. "I'm open to anything."
"MoMA? Central Park? Something not so touristy?" you suggest, before thanking the waitress as she places a hot cup of coffee on the table.
"Just show me the places you like, y/n, don't stress about it." Charles laughs, eyes returning to the open menu in front of him. "I only care about hanging out with you."
"Thanks," is all you manage to say as you sip the scalding coffee, you do your best not to wince as it burns your tongue and down your throat. "Let's do it then."
"So, what do you think? Everything you expected and more?"
You're taking a walk in Central Park after Charles agreed to see the Alice in Wonderland statue. It's a warm morning in New York and although you haven't been walking around for that long, Charles seems content enough with what he's seen.
"It's very... you," Charles replies, and you're sure he means it as a compliment, but New York can be really ugly too. "In a good way!" he adds when he sees your expression.
"Thank you, Charlie." you laugh again. It's easy being with Charles, laughing with sincerity and really being in what's happening in the moment.
You didn't lie when you said you weren't afraid of speaking up anymore, but the dread of actually doing it is inevitable. Your words are being twisted and marked as false because Aidan is far 'more loved' than you are. Not to mention Victoria's interview about your lack of reciprocity to her humble feelings
You're still thinking about suing her. But it hurts to know that she was your best friend a week ago.
A few people stop you both to ask for pictures and autographs on the back of phone cases. A few of them ignore you, others smile politely at Charles before asking him to take their picture with you.
"I'm really polishing my photographing skills," Charles jokes as you walk away from a group of young girls who gush about how much they wish they could dress like you.
"Sorry if it bothers you," you whisper, looking at him only from the corner of your eye.
"Of course not, y/n. They ask nicely, and you're okay with it." he shrugs.
There was one time when a teenager, around fourteen or fifteeen, asked Aidan if he could please take a picture of her and yourself. It was an innocent question, she had already acknowledged him as 'that guy from Star-5' and how he'd been in Supercut with you.
But just by the way you saw his expression change, you told the girl a selfie was a better option, you would hold the phone yourself if she was okay with it.
You didn't hear the end of it for the rest of night. Aidan berated your career for the first time of many, saying it was frankly offensive that he’d been treated that way. It didn't matter that you told him the girl was barely a teen and she hadn't been rude. Still, he was more famous than you, he didn't deserve to be made felt like the opposite.
"What are you thinking?" Charles asks, touching your shoulder gently to make you pause your walk.
You really don't want to admit you were thinking about your ex-boyfriend. Not that it matters, Charles knows you think about Aidan often in a mostly negative light, but it feels weird to say it here. So you shrug and sigh. "I wish I thought of nothing, to be honest."
Charles squeezes your shoulder in a half hug. He doesn't push your boundaries, although he wishes he knew what was actually going through your mind.
─────────
It's when you two are having dinner in a restaurant in SoHo that Charles asks the question that has been eating him away since he landed in New York the previous night.
"Do you want to come to Canada with me?"
"Am I not blacklisted from the paddock?" you tease, although Elix is gone. You wonder if Ferrari people blame you a little bit for their sponsor dropping them.
"Absolutely not," Charles frowns, "And you would be my guest, you get to be in the Ferrari Suite like always."
"Thank you, Charlie–"
Charles tries not to seem disappointed as he waits for the 'but' to follow, so he drinks from his wine.
"—but I have some back to back things to do this weekend," you do regret not being able to make it, you loved the few Grand Prix you were able to attend and you would love to see Carlos too. But you have booked a few interviews with people who, more than anything want to consume gossip, but have disguised it as 'letting you tell your truth in more depth'. You cannot back down from what you started.
"That's okay," he assures with a quick wink. "You know you can come to races whenever you want to, though, right?"
"I can?" you raise both eyebrows and Charles rolls his eyes. "The benefits of having a Ferrari driver as a friend. I should have befriended you sooner."
"Very funny," he says as he hides his smile behind his glass of wine again. "Do I get invited to the Red Carpets?"
"You kind of befriended me at the downfall of my career. It's going to take a while for you to be on a Red Carpet."
Charles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "You're only just getting started, soleil. Don't say that."
You hope he's right, because you have castings lined-up for next week too and you don't want to call him, or Mati, or your mom, crying about how unwanted you feel.
You shrug, drinking from your own wine.
"I'm being serious, y/n," Charles' tone is stern for a moment, yet not aggressive. "You have a lot of wonderful things to do in the future."
"Yeah, thanks." you dislike yourself for ruining the mood yet again, but Charles isn't bothered as he smiles at you once again.
"I mean it,"
He does, and so does Mati, and your mom. You are bound for great things, although they're taking time to find you right now.
"I know. Thank you Charlie, you're very kind. I hope you have a good race this weekend."
Charles huffs. "Yes, me too. Wish me luck?"
"I feel like I jinx you more than help you, Charlie."
"You didn't wish me luck in Spain, look how that went," he fakes a shudder and you snort. You hated every minute spent in Spain after FP3.
"Good luck, you'll do great." You pat the hand that he keeps on top of the table a couple times and before you can take your hand back, he grabs it, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Your heart races and you take a deep, sharp breath, like that would help it go back to normal. You have tried not to overanalyze everything about today, from the way Charles looked to the words he said, to the way your body responded to it. You don't want to go down that specific spiral.
"Thanks for stopping by," you take your hand back and keep it busy with your almost empty glass of wine. The alcohol has turned your cheeks warm. "You really want to see New York, huh?"
"I really wanted to see you," Charles replies, nonchalantly.
And you know you'll be spiraling, despite your best efforts.
─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! also thank you so so so much because last chapter got to 1k+ interactions and i was beyond shocked!! it means a lot that you're enjoying delicate!♡❞
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HEYYY HRUUUUU AGAIN!!! It's me k4nma_shi, I had to deactivate my old account bc it wasn't working properly. BUT IM HERE AGAIN!!!
May I have a Logan x fem reader request ? if you don't mind. And can it be where Logan and you met up after being in the phych ward in the phantom dimension?
My baby deserves attention 🫶
THANK U MOOKA, HAVE A GREAT DAYYYYY ❤
Reunited
Logan Fields x reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar
A/N: HEY GIRLL WELCOME BACKKK
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You walked through the halls of the weird building. It reminded you of a maze, everything looking the same and you feel like you saw the same door like 50 times already! You were trying to find the other, opening every door you could, most of them being empty. You grip your flashlight, your whole body tense and alert. You knew there was a small chance that there were phantoms inside the building, but you couldn’t shake off the paranoia from when the giant centipede looking monster chased you inside the school. You hear footsteps from somewhere in front of you, but not just one pair, but two. You hide behind a corner, grabbing your pocket knife and try to be as quiet as possible. You hear the footsteps getting closer when you feel them walking right next to you. You jump the person but immadietly stop when you see a surprised Ashlyn and a ready to attack Taylor in front of you. “Jesus.. You guys scared me.” Taylor looks at you with a “really?” face like you didn’t just jump them but shrugs it off. You help Ashlyn up, taking her hand and pull her up.
You hug the both of them, practically squeezing them into mush. You smile at them and ask about the plan. Ashlyn shrugs, explaining that you should find the others first before coming up with a plan. You nod and follow them, keeping an eye on the back so nothing sneaks up on you three. You go to what feels like the 100th floor of this labyrinth and open the first door you see, a very, very trashed room behind it. It looked like the room you stayed in, so you grab your pocket knife just in case anything jumps you.
“Hello?.. Aiden? .. Logan? ..Guys??” You hear rustling in the bathroom and out comes a.. face painted Aiden?? You burst out laughing along with Tayloe, Ashlyn just having a “what the fuck” expression on her face. “Okay.. Aiden what the hell?” She says and Aiden just smiles proudly; “What? I was bored! I have all the board games and face paint I could ever have!” He says and Ashlyn face palms; “So in stead of asking for some useful things that could help us ESCAPE, you asked for.. games? Okay if we need bait, Aidens it.” Ashlyn says and leaves the room, going to search for others. You stop laughing and smile at Aiden. “Hey are you coming with us? Or is your head injury still bothering you?” You ask and he shrugs; “I’ll come with.” He gets up energetically and dashes out of the room towards the direction Ashlyn went. “Wow that boy really needs to leave some energy for the poor.” Taylor jokes and you chuckle, following the two love birds.
You finally gather almost everyone, except Logan. You start to panic a bit. What if something happened to him? You shake off the thoughts, trying to think positively. “Logans brave.. He can take care of himself, no need to panic.” You think to yourself and open a door, and see that it’s the one where all of you stayed in. You enter it, the others staying in front of the room, looking out for phantoms. Well there weren’t any phantoms in the building but that’s paranoia for ya.
You finally see the oh so familiar pair of blue eyes you so so love. You smile, running towards him and he pulls you into an embrace, spinning you around. “Hey bunny, you’re okay..” He whispers and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smile, rubbing his back. You pull away and he holds your hand, intertwining your fingers. Everyone leaves the room, you and Logan walking hand in hand, looking out for each other. You finally gather everyone in Tylers room, deciding to get some rest and not search for anything today. You huddle up in a corner, pulling your knees to your chest. Logan sits down next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, making you rest your head on his shoulder. He whispers sweet nothings in to your ear, your stomach erupting with butterflies. “Logan?” You look up and he look at you with a smile, “Hm?” He hums and you smile at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.. I couldn’t imagine loosing you..” You start; “Don’t let those assholes force you into anything and if anything does happen, just know we won’t be mad and we will be here for you.” You say and he nods, sighing. “I’ll be alright, just take care of yourself yeah?” He kisses your forehead and rests his head against yours. You relax your shoulders and listen to him as he starts to talk to you about astrology. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm even during such a horrific and terrifying situation. You look at him, seeing his smile while talking about something he is truly fascinated by. Only one thing came to mind as you saw the boy in front of you. What a beautiful boy.
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#logan fields x y/n#logan fields x reader#logan sbg x reader#logan fields sbg#sbg logan#school bus graveyard logan#logan fields#school bus graveyard x y/n#school bus graveyard fanfiction#school bus graveyard x reader#school bus graveyard#sbg x reader#sbg#sbg fanfic#sbg webtoon#sbg (webtoon)
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Mamma mia| chapter one
listen to: New Romantics- Taylor Swift | Two Ghosts - Harry Styles (playlist here)
warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. Accident in this chapter, very small.
series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!
Three days had passed since summer officially began for you. You were still getting installed into the house with Augustine and James. The second floor of the place was significantly smaller than the first floor but you didn’t mind. Augustine had the biggest room since at the end of the day, she was the one that had put most of the money into the down payment and it was at first not a room but a studio. Either way, your room was perfect for you. Windows from the floor to the roof, facing the ocean, the room was painted with a faint baby blue and it looked perfect, an old-fashion vanity with a bookshelf on the other side.
Happiness didn’t begin to describe how you felt each time you entered that room.
It was a sunny day, and the skin of your body was soaked in the sun as you biked through the town. You were still moving some of your things from your parent's house to the beach house, you still needed to get some clothes and at least one painting you wanted to place on your vanity.
The warmth of the sun seemed to fill your chest as you took a deep breath, your eyes examining the town where you’d grown. It felt different than before, it no longer felt heavy like before you went to New York. Instead, it tasted like paradise.
And then, you received a text from James.
Honestly, it was your fault, you shouldn’t be biking and texting but in your defense, it was one second. One moment you had the road completely free and then you were barely running over someone with gold-framed glasses, it was all you could see. Quickly, you tried to turn the handlebar to the right, trying to avoid them and hoping you remained on the road. Unfortunately, you didn’t. The bike got caught up in the sand, and the sudden shift of your weight pushed the bike to the floor, while you went flying.
You squealed as your body flew through the air, you barely got the chance to close your eyes, instinctively putting your hands up in front of you before you made contact with the sand. A loud ‘oof’ escaped your lips as your wrist twisted painfully, sending a shock through your arm before you were rolling on the sand with a hiss.
You were dizzy and confused as you heard a scream behind you, your head seemed to be in stereo as you tried to move but your body seemed to be overwhelmed by pain.
“M’am!” the voice repeated, now you seemed to understand it as you moved your head to the left, and you saw him. The brownish golden locks fell to his forehead as he anxiously crouched over you, checking you. “Are you okay?”
You stared at the boy in front of you. His skin was just starting to get sunkissed but you could see just on the collar of his shirt that his skin had turned red too. It was probably a mistake, you gathered, he didn’t look like the type to be all tanned. His eyes were a beautiful metal blue, deep like the water in the ocean, his eyelashes stumbled against the glass of his gold-framed glasses while they nervously examined.
“I’m fine,” you lied as you decided to stand up, trying to shake off how your mind was anxiously rambling about how stupid you looked. Suddenly, a shock of pain ran through your forearm, you hissed immediately.
The boy, man- though he did look too young-, frowned immediately as he looked at you. “You are definitely not okay,” he said.
Your brows immediately furrowed together. “Don’t you say,” you snapped at him.
His anxious gaze was suddenly replaced by a doe-eye look, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, you could see how the blush started to creep on his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he looked down at your wrist. “Can you let me see your wrist?”
You hesitated for a moment but he sounded so sincere, the concern clouding his voice was enough for you to offer your hand to him. It wasn’t intended, your body reacted to the feather-like touch of his fingertips on you without any hesitation, goosebumps erupting over your skin. He held your arm as if you were glass and he was afraid to break it but you could see the focus on his features, how his jaw was set as he pressed and turned your wrist. You tried not to flinch, he was being way too careful in your opinion.
“It’s definitely not broken but it is definitely strained,” he finally sighed.
“Are you a doctor?”
His chin tilted up towards you, his lips quirked up softly. Not enough for a smile, maybe a light smirk. He shook his head. “Oh, no,” he started, and you saw him stuttering slightly. It made you smile. “I just did pre-med when I was younger and first aid courses too,”
You showed him the smallest corner of your smile. “Mr, Doctor,” you teased him.
His eyes widened immediately, he started to shake his head hurriedly as he gazed at you. He was still holding your hand softly but you could feel how he tensed up. “No, I’m,”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m kidding,” you said, a smile now drawn on your face.
His eyes widened. “Oh,” his lips turned to a line for a second, and then nodded softly, a smile appeared on his face as he gazed back at you.
There was a beat of silence, you bit your lower lip as you watched his features and he watched yours. Then, your gaze fell to his hand on your skin, you decided that you liked how he held you, how he’d never let go.
“I want to take you to the hospital,” he finally said as you looked up at him. Then, he looked around you, you let him as you watched softly how his jaw looked, the small stubble that was growing on his jaw. “You know if there’s someplace close? I’m new in town,”
You bit down a laugh as you looked at him. “Of course you are, otherwise you wouldn’t have crossed that ROAD and then regretted it,” you said.
“I’m sorry,” he said looking down again, you could feel the regret in his voice.
You decided you liked that, you liked how easily you could read him. As you’d study in law school, you should know how to read people and you could sometimes, but you don’t know if growing so shelter blinded you sometimes. It made you naive, which wasn’t a good trait for a lawyer or an adult. Instead, this guy felt warm and easy to read. You could tell that he didn’t really know he was attractive, which only added to his charm. He was one of the quiet ones like you were. He must be a good son, his parent’s definitely loved him. If he hadn’t become a doctor, he could be an engineer, you were sure.
You thought that you could trust him, which was the most important thing.
“It’s fine,” you answered as he softly pulled you up and then pulled you closer to him. He smelled like peaches and apricot.“Uhm, I’ll need help with the bike though,”
“Right,” he said as he hurried to get your bike.
Thankfully, the hospital was just a bus ride away. You laughed softly as he struggled to get your bike into the bus, he was definitely a bit clumsy but at last, he managed. When you reached the ER, you thought he might leave after you were admitted, but he didn’t. He didn’t leave your side, not even when you were brought to a room and when you were placed in a bed while you waited for the doctor.
“Baby girl,” the nurse stated as she handed you a clipboard. “I need you to feel the information in those papers before the doctor comes in,”
You gazed at the clipboard and then back at your wrist which was being covered by a pack of ice. You stared at her incredulously but she wasn’t really looking at you, you were going to open your mouth but before you could, an arm took the clipboard from the nurse's hand. You gazed back at him as he took the clipboard with a smile.
“I’ll fill it for you,”
You smiled slightly as you start to mumble your information, date of birth, the town you were born, your parents’ names, and contacts. You see how his lips quirked up when you say that you’re a lawyer, he’s impressed. You feel your cheeks burning up, you like that he’s impressed, and you like men who don’t feel threatened by you being so young and a lawyer.
“Done, ma’am,” He said as he handed the clipboard over to the nurse.
The nurse quickly checked him out, clearly thinking too how handsome he looked, even in that awful hospital light. “Thank you, the Doctor will be here in a few,” she said with a smile before exiting the room.
When the nurse closes the door you look him over. He’s indeed handsome, you think about the story behind him, you wonder and imagine facts about him, quietly writing your own clipboard about him and then you realize that you don’t know his name.
Before you manage to ask, the doctor comes in.
“Dr. Suarez,” The man introduces himself to you and then extends a hand out towards him.“Your relationship to the patient?”
“Uhm,” he struggles, you realized he isn’t too good with his words.
“The guy that caused this,” you explained in a joking manner but his head soon snapped towards you, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I didn’t,” he began but then you quickly raise your eyebrows at him. He sighs. “Robert Floyd,” he explains. He does look like a Robert, you like the way he says his name. “You can call me Bob,” he said, mostly to you.
You feel your cheeks itching with a smile as you nod softly. “Robert, Bob, Floyd,” you let his name fall from your lips, you saw how his eyes fixed on you as you said it.
“Okay, Bob,” the doctor said, snapping your thoughts away from Bob. “There’s no need for you to be here anymore, we are getting her a small cast for a few weeks,”
Bob’s jaw clenched slightly as he heard the doctor. “I’m not leaving,” he stated. It sent a ripple of excitement through your spine.
The doctor gazed at Bob for a moment, processing his statement, and then at you. He sighed. “Whatever you want Bob,” he said as he began to feel your wrist tenderly.
You winced slightly after a certain touch. Bob immediately noticed it. He quickly got closer to the edge of the bed. “You can hold my hand if you want to,” he said softly. You could tell he was unsure of how you would react, but you bit your inner cheek, trying to force the smile down.
“I’d like that,”
By the time you get out of the hospital, the sun is already setting. You lost all your afternoon and you probably wouldn’t be able to ride your bike for at least two weeks but you still couldn’t stop smiling as Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd walks you to your house. He lets you ask the questions now, as he holds your bike and carries your backpack while you guide him through the town. Quickly, you begin to fill up the clipboard of him and mostly, you were right.
He isn’t an engineer though. He explains to you that he’s in the Navy, a weapon systems officer to be exact. He was called to Top Gun, which meant he was the best of the best. You were right about that, his parents were really proud of him.
“So, you’re from Lemoore,” you said as you reached the corner of your street. The sky has cues of purple and orange now, it’s getting dark and cold but you don’t feel it really, you’re too entertained with Bob to mind. “But your parents are from Texas,”
He nods with a tight smile on his lips. “I am and yes,” he said. He knows he doesn’t look like a Californian, people had said it a lot, but he has a bit of an accent. You hummed slightly before you continued.
“And you have only one brother,”
“Big brother,” Bob cleared up. You shake your head immediately, amusement covered your features. It made him smile too. “What?” he asked.
You bit your lip as you look over at him and you simply shrug. “You have older child energy,” you explained.
Bob laughed immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re about to explain it to him before you realized that you’re almost passing by your place. “Oh, we’re here,” you said as you look up at the old house.
Bob’s chin tilted up as his eyes roamed your place. You glanced at him as you try to read him, it was the first time that you have technically brought a guy over to your place, so you wait expectantly for him to say something but then a big smile is drawn on his face.
He doesn’t have to say it, you know he likes it.
“I’ll take your bike to the back,” he offered immediately.
“Don’t worry about it, really,” you said but Bob cuts you off.
“I insist,” he states.
Your eyebrows raised a bit. This is the second time he’s actually commanding, you smile. It wasn’t a fluke, maybe he has a little bit more under those big glasses.
“Fine,” you said with a sigh as you open the fence and then walk him to the back of the house.
You explain to him where to leave your bike, and you see how his eyes examined the setup and the other two bikes. You wonder if he’s thinking about what are you doing living here with two other people if you’re a lawyer, you wonder if he judges you but as he insisted he walks you to the back door, the one in the sunroom, you realized that he isn’t judging you, he just wants to know more.
“So, I’m just really sorry, again,” Bob took a deep breath as you reach the sunroom's door.
You smile and shake your head.
“And there’s nothing to worry about, again,”
Bob nodded as his eyes traced your face. He enjoyed how you smiled, he liked the way your sunkissed skin looked even under the last hues of light of the day, you were still glowing like you were this morning. You were soft but witty, he could see how proud you were about what you’d done. And yet, he couldn’t quite figure you out. His head tilted to the side and stepped closer to you.
“I would like to see you again,” he said, mostly stated. Your eyes widened slightly, you looked him through your lashes and you felt your cheeks burning up. “Make up for that awful accident,”
You suppressed a smile. “Yeah?” you asked.
“Yes,” Bob nodded. “I mean, I was wondering if we could go on a date?”
You let out a playful gasp and Bob immediately smile, that crooked smirk he’d given you throughout the day, just now you knew where to place it. “Robert Floyd, you’d like a date with me?” you asked.
But then he bit his cheek, he looked down for a moment and then at you again. He was stumbling with his words again. “I mean, only if you are comfortable with it,”
You rolled your eyes and before you knew it, you leaned into Bob Floyd, raising slightly you pressed your lips against his. He tasted like peaches, the apricot smell surrounded you for a second and it felt like his lips were warm like the sun in the last hours of the afternoon.
You pulled away instantly, afraid of having been too forward with him. You opened your eyes and you stared at him, frowning immediately. He seemed to be frozen in time, his breathing a bit shallow, his eyes not looking at you for a few seconds, and there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.
You began to worry.
“That was a yes, in case you didn’t,”
You couldn’t finish. Bob, in one swift motion, had placed one hand on your lower back drawing you towards him and another one on your cheek, his fingertips sending ripples of gentleness as you felt him. He closed the gap between your lips purposefully, kissing you deeply, eagerly. His kiss was gentle but it send shockwaves through your body just by the way he was holding you, with the same tenderness he had held you throughout the day. Warmth spread through your body as his tongue tangled with yours, as he deepened the kiss and you wrapped your arms on his shoulder.
You were too busy to feel the laughter in the house, to realize how the light in the sunroom came up or the laughter behind the door. It was only when you felt the door opening that you pulled away from him.
“What’s going on here!”
SEVEN YEARS LATER
You didn’t know how much you’d held your breath, your ears ringing as you stared at the sea-foam eyes. His mouth was still moving but you couldn’t really hear anything. Your vision began to blur around the edges, maybe coming here without food and sipping on wine wasn’t the best choice. Your throat was feeling tighter and tighter by the second and your eyes were watering, enough for Jake to frown slightly. Swiftly, his hands touched your bare shoulders.
It made you flinch.
“Hey,” Jake’s voice finally makes you breathe again. You take a deep breath as you quickly pull away from him, as far as you could in a bar full of people. “Are you okay?”
Concerned creased his features as he looked at you, his skin always made you feel like you were burning up when he touched you.
“What are you, what are you,” you sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “What are you doing here?” you finally ask.
“Special detachment,” he explains and you simply nodded at him, curtly, quickly placing your arms over your chest, as if it would make you feel less vulnerable than how you were feeling. “I saw you since you came in, I didn’t know you were living here. I thought you’d be living in London,” he continues, you swallow hard, the tightness in your throat wasn’t really going anywhere. He sighs as he looks at your stance, he’s aware that you’re uncomfortable, but he doesn’t blame you. “I want to invite you to a drink,” he offered, thinking it could make you feel better.
Your eyebrows knit together immediately. Your eyes examine his features, he’s being honest. You know he is but you cannot afford to have a drink with him. He shouldn’t be here. None of them should be here.
“Jake,” you said, your voice trembling, head tilting to the side in defeat.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you. But then I knew, I just would recognize you anywhere,”
You felt a shiver run through your spine. You stay there for a moment holding Jake’s gaze, the last notes of the song in the air. Suspended in time, he can barely hide how his chest aches as he looks at you. You knew him so well, you realized that you still do. Suddenly, his gaze falls on your hand. You know what he’s looking for. You watch his adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat, and then a sigh of relief escapes his lips. You’re not married or engaged. He’s a relief. You don’t know why it makes your heart flutter to think that he’s relieved. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have someone, that same dumb train of thought lead you to suffer seven years earlier. You don’t dare to look at his hand.
“Jake, you don’t have to,” you say softly.
It’s strange. You’ve changed so much from that meek little girl trying to be more outspoken you were back then but under his eyes, you feel the same. He senses it, you’re sure because even after rejecting him, he still dares to step closer to you, you’re barely touching the beige uniform he’s wearing. You hadn’t really seen him in this one. White ones, flight suits, and summer outfits.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day,” Jake began, his voice quiet as if you’re the only one in the place.
Your brows come together for a second, a longing looks on your face. You want to slap yourself. You recall how angry you were when he left, how much he hurt you but then you recall that you may have hurt him even more, you’re not sure. Hell, you might have hurt the three of them worse than whatever they could’ve done to you. You swallow softly, he’s too close now.
Suddenly, the bell rips through the tension in the air. Snapping you both from whatever trance you were in, your head turns towards the bar where Penny had one arm holding the rope of the bell and another one placed on her hip. A scowl on her face as she watches the scene unfolding before her. It’s not hard to comprehend that you’re clearly uncomfortable.
“Jake Seresin,” Penny calls, you feel all the looks on you and Jake. Instinctively, you give a step back trying to avoid any more gazes, hopefully, Rooster or Bob can’t see you.
Jake scoffs as he gazed back at you and then at Penny.“What? I wasn’t,” he starts but he sees how this might look. He takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t disrespecting, this isn’t how it works!” he starts but is too late.
“Boys,” Penny calls, and automatically, three men walk toward Jake. Pulling you to the side, people start to cheer. They don’t give Jake a chance, not even when he’s saying his call names and asking them not to do this. They still grab his biceps forcefully and with a smirk, they lift him from the ground. Penny tilts her head to the side, and the boys start to take him outside.
Overboard. Overboard. Overboard.
That’s all you can hear and all you can see are Jake’s green eyes lingering on your form in the crowd. As the crowd gets closer to the bar once more, you feel a sense of relief before someone’s calling your name. You glanced towards the bar. Penny quickly throws your car keys towards you, you catch them in the air.
Penny winks as you mouth a small ‘Thank you’ before she points you to Jimmy, who calls your name. The old man had known you your whole life, and a sense of relief washes over you as he pulls you to the side and guides you to the back of the bar, exiting the bar without anyone’s prying eyes over you.
As you exit, you hear the music from the outside. Another cord in the piano, Rooster was non the wiser and if he didn’t know, Bob probably hadn’t seen you either.
“Tell Penny I’ll come to pay tomorrow,” you insist to Jimmy as he nods and mumbles a goodbye. He closes the door without much trouble and you’re left alone.
Finally, you feel like there’s a brief pause, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour as you realize what had just happened. You thought that you had moved on, but just the sight of them made your heart race and your breathing stop. It angers you. Thinking about that summer, how it changed your whole life, how it was haunting you now. You didn’t regret what happened, you wouldn’t have Inés if that summer hadn’t happened but you felt your chest aching and your stomach twisting at the thought of them.
If they saw her, if even only one of them saw her, you knew what would happen. The question that would arise, is the possibility of changing Inés' life. You felt stupid. You really had thought that you were safe, that you wouldn’t see them again.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” you curse loudly, angry hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
It’s only until then that you realize that you aren’t alone.
“It is nice to see your doll,” Jake states as he leans into the edge of the building.
You groan almost involuntarily. Hot anger simmers softly in the pit of your stomach as you glare at him. Maybe it is the fact that now that you’ve become a mother, you can’t stand the thought of something hurting Inés; maybe it is the fact that now you see Jake as a threat too.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you snap at him as you pull your purse tight towards your body while you try to walk in the sand with your strappy heels. You hadn’t really thought about that.
Jake holds his breath, he pretends that it doesn’t hurt to hear you say that. He pretends that he is okay with not being wanted by you. He isn’t. You have chased every dream he has had for the last seven years. What is happening now, isn’t like in his dreams.
“Hey, honey,” Jake calls you, and he reaches out for you. His fingers manage to graze over the skin of your arm. He wants to stop you but by the way, you flinch, he knows he fucked up.
“You don’t get to call me that!” you snap at him. Your voice is higher than you intended but you're flabbergasted at how he dared to touch you. He hasn’t earned it, both of you know it. It scares you, how much of an effect he has on you.
“Please, it has been years,” Jake states as you roll your eyes and continue walking to your car. “I haven’t stopped thinking about us, about you,”
A scoff involuntarily passes your lips as you fidget with the keys of your car. You can hear his step following you, getting closer to you than before but he doesn’t dare to take a single step toward you that might invade your space anymore. He holds himself next to the hood of your car.
“Please,”
You turned towards him, head snapping. “YOU BROKE MY HEART!” you finally yell at him. You refuse to cry in front of him, the tears blurring your vision but not dropping from your eyes.
Jake stays stunned for a few seconds as he looks at you. You take a deep breath before you get into the car, and you try not to look at him. You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to think about him anymore. You’d spend too much time thinking about him, about them. So, you drive off.
You manage to hold yourself together all through the drive and then pick up Inés from your mother’s place. It isn’t until you’re pulling onto the driveway that you realize that you started crying somewhere in between your mother’s house and your place. You quickly try to wipe your face clean, looking at you through the rearview mirror. Inés is still sleeping peacefully, you’re thankful. She has seen you crying, and frustrated with work but you’re afraid she might know the difference.
With a deep breath, you step out of the car with your purse and quickly unbuckle your daughter from her seat in the back. Quickly lifting her into your arms, grabbing with a little difficulty her backpack from the backseat. You groan slightly as you hoist your daughter onto your hip. It hits you how much she has grown, how she’s slipping through your fingers. You recall how much you thought you needed help carrying her on her basket when she was a baby. You recall thinking about Rooster, Bob, and Hangman. Their stupid pretty faces, how you thought you needed their help. But you’ve been doing this on your own for a while. You did it on your own, you didn’t need them now.
You set Inés down on her bed. Quickly getting her ready for bed. Unlacing her tennis shoes, then changing her into her pajamas, tucking her safely under the covers. It’s such a routine that you can do it with your eyes close but you don’t, you want to treasure every moment with her. You wonder if they knew about her, would they treasure her just the same?
A sigh escapes your lips as you finish, turning off her nightlight, you begin to walk away from her. Until you hear her small little voice.
“Mommy?” she asks, it’s barely a whisper but you hear her nonetheless.
“What happened baby?” you coo, quickly sitting back on her bed and turning on her nightlight. Your fingers tracing small patterns on her face, you often did it when she was a baby, it gets her to sleep right away.
“Are you sick?” she asks, her eyes still closed.
You frown. “No, I’m,”
“You’re sniffling,” her little voice interrupts you.
Your eyes widened slightly. She’s so smart, you recall. With a smile, you shake your head and give her a kiss on her forehead.
“It’s the cold baby,” you lie. “I’m fine my love, now go to sleep,”
She lets out a small sigh as you finish threading your fingers through her brownish-gold locks of hair. You kiss her again on the cheek, and then again on her forehead before standing up and walking towards the door.
“I love you, mommy,” she tells you.
“I love you too, baby,” you reply.
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Hey! Idk if you are accepting requests but if so can you make a Aemond Targaryen x Reader basead on "Mastermind" by Taylor Swift? My idea is that Aemond starts to like the Reader and wants to marry them but he feels very insecure and wants the reader to like him too, so he starts plotting and trying to get closer so it feels organic but he actually is planning everything, then by the end he feels guiltycause he feels he tricked them into the marriage but reader always knew ?Thanks!
A GAME I COULDN’T LOSE ( House of the Dragon x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! It makes me so happy to know that you requested my writing! I love this idea! He does ( lowkey ) give off this vibe <3
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Lannister! Reader
prompt: Aemond wants to be loved by Reader, but he doesn’t know someone has been pulling strings..
key: h/c = hair color, Corlys = Laena & Laenor’s father, Baela = Daemon & Laena daughter
word count: 2,000+ words
“Once upon a time, the planets and the fates..And all the stars aligned..You and I ended up in the same room, at the same time..”
The first time he had laid eyes on her, he was ten. He didn’t know much about the h/c girl, just that she was visiting Rhaena and Baela. Offering the young girls support after the loss of their Mother. Right away, he knew that she was special. She had held their hands throughout the ceremony. She whispered comforting words whenever the adult’s turned their eyes away for a split second. She purposefully ignored Aegon whenever he tried to utter a snide comment to her.
She had a glow to her, that made him stare. He should have been paying attention to the funeral. He shouldn’t have been staring, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to look away. Not when he wanted to know more about the h/c girl in black robes. She was absolutely eye-catching⎯and he was sure that if the circumstances were different, he would have made a attempt to talk to her.
“And the touch of a hand lit the fuse, of a chain reaction of countermoves..To assess the equation of you..Checkmate, I couldn't lose..”
The last time he had seen her, he was ten. His vision was blurred and the pain was unbearable. But, even through all of that he could still see her icy glare. Burning holes into him and his brother. Her hand gripped tightly on Baela’s shoulder, a wet rag in her other hand. Even though he lost an eye, he felt somewhat better knowing that she was looking at him. Sure, it was out of disgust and anger. But, it was a start.
Their eyes lock for a second, her glare deepening. A sneer now forming on her pretty face. He was sure that if it was just the two of them, she’d curse him out. And as odd as it was, he wished for it. He wanted to know her name. He wanted her to talk to him⎯even if she was damning him to hell and back. He wanted her. And he would get her one way or another.
“What happened?” Corlys questions, staring at his granddaughter in worry.
“He…” Baela stutters out, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Allow me to explain, my lord?” Y/N speaks up, rubbing Baela’s shoulder.
“Speak, child.” He nods.
Looking at Baela for confirmation to continue, the young girl nods her head, the tears in her eyes now starting to fall down her bloody cheeks. The h/c girl swallows the lump in her throat. Rubbing her thumb on her shoulder, Baela grabs at her hand, gripping onto it tightly. The pain of what had happened painted on the young girl's face.
“Aemond claimed Vhagar, he did it in security so that they would not get the chance to oppose it.” Y/N explains, “After being confronted, he insulted Luke and Jace, calling them bastards. They defended their honor.”
“You tell the truth, child?” Corlys asks, looking at her for any deceitfulness.
“I do, sir. I gain nothing from telling lies.” She whispers, keeping her eyes on him.
Aemond watches as Corlys stares her down, a serious look on his face. Those kinds of accusations were as serious as they come. If they found to be lies, she’d be punished or worse⎯killed. Turning her eyes from Corlys to him, Corlys’s eyes follow her, a death glare on his face.
“Do not let them punish the boys for his mistake.” She begs, placing her hand on Corlys’s arm.
“What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me..I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork..The dominoes cascaded in a line..”
The next time he saw her, he was eighteen, and it may not have been so accidental. He never thought that he would see the h/c girl ever again. But, when he heard a whisper from the maids of one of the lord’s girls returning after being away for so long. He made sure to be in the area. Watching from a distance, she adorned a simple red dress, a bright smile on her face⎯much different than the last time he saw her. His heart fluttered at the sight.
Picking up her skirt slightly, she picks up her pace as she walks, approaching a man. Bowing her head at a few people, she sprints at the man, a loud laugh leaving her lips. Spinning her around in a circle, she buries her head into his shoulder, her h/c hair bouncing around. That must have been her father. Pulling away from the hug, he grabs her arm, tugging her away from everyone’s prying eyes.
“I missed you!” She gushes, “It’s been far too long.”
“Agreed, far too long. How is your brother? Meria? How is the baby?” He questions, a bright smile on his face.
“Wonderful! He’s been prancing around preaching about him having a son. Meria had to lock him in their chambers to stop him from embarrassing himself any further.” She explains, “How has the court been? The last time I was here, I was a mere child.”
“Troubled. But, I am sure things will work out in time.” He nods, patting her arm.
Nodding her head in understanding, they slow down their pace, now away from the nosy eyes of the people on the dock. Patting her arm gently, a troubled look appears on her face, probably wondering why the court was so troubled. Not that he blamed her. Targaryen politics were⎯how to put it⎯difficult at time? Passing by him, they completely ignore his presence, seemingly in their own little world.
Stepping out from the shadows, he clears his throat loudly, making sure to get their attention. They both tense up at the sound, pausing mid-step. Slowly looking over their shoulders, their grips tighten on one another. Their faces showing their thoughts, shit. Forcing smiles onto their faces, they bow in respect.
“Ah, Y/N. You remember Prince Aemond. Don’t you?” Her father pipes in, tensing at the sight of him.
“I do.” She spits out, nodding.
“My lady.” He smirks, “I’ve seen you’ve grown too. No longer the feisty young girl that I once knew.”
His eyes lower to her hand, wanting her to extend it. He wanted to place a kiss on the back of her hand, like he was supposed to do. He wanted to be a gentleman. He wanted to show her the respect she deserved. Her eyes flicker down, seemingly catching what he wanted. She clenches her jaw, holding her hand out for him. A giddy feeling blooming in his chest. Carefully grasping her hand, he practically melts in his shoes at the feeling of her hand in his.
“Yes, my time in Winterfell has made me mature.” She forces out, tensing as he places a kiss to her knuckles.
“I can tell.” He teases, “Will I see you tonight? We are having a feast for my brother’s marriage with Helaena.”
“You will.” She nods, relaxing as he pulls away.
“Promise to save me a dance?” He asks, trying desperately to not sound to eager.
“I think about it.” She muses, “Until then, Prince Aemond.”
“What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine, it was all by design..'Cause I'm a mastermind...”
She did in fact not save him a dance. Instead, she happily took Aegon’s hand. Not before, shooting him a teasing wink over her shoulder. If Aegon wasn’t his brother⎯Correction, if there wasn’t as many people in the hall as there was now, he’d have struck his brother down. Glaring holes into the back of Aegon’s head, he could hear everyone’s giggling, his mother even making a teasing remark.
“Why don’t you ask her for a dance, Aemond?” Alicent questions, a slight giggle to her voice.
“She took Aegon’s hand.” He deadpans, eyes glued to her.
“Only because she is teasing you.” Rhaenyra teases, “She’s a Lannister. She’s going to make you work for her hand.”
“Shush, Rhaenyra! Can you see him turning red?” Alicent teases, the woman bursting into giggles.
Turning his head to the woman, a snarky remark was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back. He would let them enjoy this. Tomorrow they’d be sober and back at each other’s throats. Looking back at his brother, he places a kiss on the back of her hand, a smirk on his lips. Muttering something to her, she gently slaps his arm, shaking her head with a laugh. When he got the chance, he’d beat Aegon to a pulp.
Clenching his jaw at the sight, Aegon holds his hand out for her to take, hopefully to escort her off the dance floor and into his arms. Placing her hand into his, they walk off the floor, heading over to the table. Jumping up at the sight of them, he stands up from his seat, holding a hand out for her to take. But, she does not take it once again.
“Lady Lannister, wonderful to see you again. Are you enjoying the festivities?” Alicent smiles, a light snicker leaving her lips.
“Indeed, your majesty.” Y/N smiles, “Although, I must say the party is more tame than I am used to. Winterfell’s festivities are less..calm, so to say.”
Nodding their heads in understanding, she finally turns to him, her lips slightly twitching up into a smile. His heart pounds in his chest. If only he had the ability to freeze time. Holding her hand out for him, he carefully grabs it, afraid that she’d pull away too soon. Pressing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, she narrows her eyes slightly, like she was trying to read him. Meeting her eyes, she slowly pulls her hand away, turning her attention onto his mother.
“Queen Alicent, will you dance with me?” She questions, “Aegon has grown tired and I much prefer someone new to dance with.”
“You see, all the wisest women had to do it this way..'Cause we were born to be the pawn in every lover's game..”
She holds onto Alicent’s hands, twirling the older woman in a circle. Giggles leaving the older woman’s lips as they spin around. Perhaps, in another time where war wasn’t a looming threat, things could have been more like this. Happy. Not a care in the world. Slowly coming to a waltz, a mischievous glint appears in Alicent’s eyes, almost like she knew something that no one else knew.
“Your son, Aemond.” Y/N questions, an innocent look on her face.
“What about him?” Alicent teases, an amused look on her face.
“He doesn’t think⎯” Y/N shakes her head, “Oh, forget about it.”
The amused look on Alicent’s face grows. Now this, she had to hear.
“No, you have gotten my attention. What is it?” Alicent nods, motioning for her to continue.
“I was going to say. He doesn’t think it was an accident meeting me at the docks, does he?” Y/N questions, innocently.
“What do you mean?” Alicent furrows her brows together.
Y/N’s face flashes mischievous before being painted in fake innocence. She was a Lannister after all. She always had a trick or two. Tucking a strand of hair away from Alicent’s face, she pulls the woman close to her. Almost like a hug, but not quite. Hiding her face in her hair, Alicent wraps her arms around her, pulling her in close.
“My mother always said that I should never let fate handle things. That if I want something, I should make it happen.” Y/N whispers, keeping her voice low enough to not be overheard.
“What are you saying?” Alicent questions, raising a brow.
“It was not a coincidence that we reunited after all of this time, my Queen. I know of the approaching war. I know sides will be picked.” Y/N explains, her voice low.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Let us marry. A tie between both of our houses will be beneficial.” She smirks, “The Lannister riches? The Lannister allies? And the Targaryen crown? A very powerful duo. One strong enough to win the war.”
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I mean I am all for girls sticking together, especially against someone like Joe Jonas who I have side-eye since forever, but if that means fawning over Taylor Swift I guess I'll pass. Especially when she did something very very similar to someone with waaaaay less power than she has in the industry. She has much more in common with Joe Jonas than with Sophie Turner.
Obviously, the situations vary in terms of Sophie being a woman (so misogyny adds an awful layer to what she's going through, which Joe Alwyn doesn't have to face) and the mother of Joe's kids, which makes Joe Jonas' actions even worse, but how is it that people are forgetting how Taylor went on her own "smear campaign" against Joe Alwyn just because he dared to break up with her and /or not be willing to marry her? She painted the guy as if he was insecure and jealous of her success, implied he was holding her back, went on pap walks to drive the point home that he was keeping her "hidden" and preventing her from being her own self, made all of her friends unfollow him on social media, all of this knowing exactly how that would look like, and how that would weaponize her fans against him. The dude can't do as much as take a subway without his name going trending on Twitter with her insane fan base calling him all kinds of names. There were fans even wishing for him to kill himself, and the tweet had tons of likes.
Never mind the fact she made a point of dating a racist misogynistic right after and weaponized that relationship too (because you can't tell me part of her motivation to state in public she had been the happiest she has ever been, to have the guy in all of her concerts singing along her songs when she built the narrative that Joe was unsupportive of her success wasn't a way of getting back at him). And according to her own lyrics, Joe Alwyn has a history of dealing with mental health issues, like anxiety and depression. And yet, Taylor did all of that to the person she dated for six years. It wasn't a marriage with kids, but the relationship lasted longer than Joe Jonas and Sophie's marriage and almost the entirety of Joe Jonas and Sophie's relationship.
I see no difference between Joe Jonas and Taylor Swift, she just gets away with being an awful person. And unfortunately for Joe Alwyn, people bought the narrative that Taylor sold out there about him. Luckily, Joe Jonas wasn't able to stick the "Sophie is a bad mother and unfit partner" narrative to her.
I also can't help but think this outing is much more PR Taylor swift seeing an opportunity to come out as a “girl’s girl” than Taylor Swift reaching out to a friend. Afterall, where was this attitude when people were calling her out for dating a racist misogynistic? Hmm yeah, she can fuck off.
I also am going to be super cynical here, and it's something I've noticed about her for ages now. To me, she feels a certain validation in other women's failed relationships. Especially with a woman who got something Taylor wished had had herself.
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Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 2
Chapter 2 // How to Touch a Girl
•warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
The first time Diana woke up the morning after her birthday was actual torture, she was sure. The need to empty her bladder caused her to wake far earlier than she would have liked, early morning light barely making it through the blackout curtains that decorated her bedroom. The redhead carefully disentangled herself from the limbs of her sister and friend and climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone from beside her on the bed. Making her way to the ensuite bathroom, Diana immediately regretted unlocking her device for two reasons. First the dull ache in her head made itself known the second the light hit her eyes in contrast to the dark bathroom. 6:21 AM . Second, was a series of text messages from a number not saved to her phone that she decided could wait before she absolutely exploded. After washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face, Diana braced herself and opened the text thread.
+1(617)-555-1425
9:36 PM
you look sooo good in your IG pics
11:15 PM
ugh i wish i was with you rn
12:20 AM
cmon di. dont be a btich text me back
1:37 AM
Ungrateful bitch.
2:39 AM
i see. youre out there fuckin with someone new. Thats wh you wont text me back. He’ll just get bored of you like I did.
2:41 AM
How long before he starts fucking yor sister
Disappointed that the Boston area code and the content of messages meant the sender was clear, Diana quickly locked her phone and dropped it on the counter. She couldn’t deal with Connor right now. Leaving her phone in the bathroom, Diana crawled back into bed, thankful that she insisted on a “sleepover” last night and wasn’t alone to spiral.
The second time Diana woke up was slightly better than the first. She was alone in bed and her headache eased to a dull thumping, a glass of water on her bedside table. Emptying the glass in one go, Diana searched for her phone. A string of curses rang through her head when she remembered the reason that it was not beside her. After a dramatic sigh, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the light, looked in the mirror for the first time that day, and groaned out loud. Light reddish-purple bruises littering her neck and collarbone were visible under the sports bra she was wearing.
Annoyed with herself, Diana picked up her phone and checked the time: 12:12 PM. When she unlocked the device the messages from Connor were still open on the screen. While the reason for his vitriol was now apparent, clues painted on her skin, it didn’t make it justified. ‘It wasn’t like I had sex with Joe,’ she thought, ‘ And even if I had, I’m single and can fuck who I want.
Diana blocked the number but kept the text thread to show Biz later and moved on to check her other notifications, some birthday wishes from people who couldn't make it last night and a missed call from Cathy at 9:30. Diana decided could give her manager a call back later and was replying to all of the messages and comments as she walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her sister.
Biz, who was standing at the stove cooking bacon and French toast, spoke as Diana walked in eyes glued to her phone. “Gooood Morning beautiful, Happy actual birthday,” the younger woman sang in a joking manner. “Taylor left, she had to catch a flight for the awards tonight.” She paused a minute before excitedly saying, “There was a delivery for you this morning.”
Diana looked up at her last statement, confused even more at the smirk on the brunette’s face. “What delivery?”
Biz didn't respond except for pointing her spatula towards the living room, signaling Diana to investigate. Rolling her eyes, Diana did as she was told, walking farther down the hall to figure out what her sister was talking about.
She was not expecting multiple bouquets of roses placed in every nook and cranny they would fit to be decorating the living room. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, making her way toward the largest bouquet on the coffee table in the center of the room, silently counting the number of arrangements. Nine.
‘What a strange number,’ she thought as she picked up the card attached to the large bundle of roses, looking out of place on the coffee table next to her TV remote.
Tried to get your number Cathy with no luck.
Now who’s curving who?
513-555-6947
JB
Warmth filled Diana’s body as she reread the card for the third time, trying to make sense of it. Pulling up Cathy’s contact information on her phone and pressing call, she turned to see Bizz in the doorway smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
“Soooo… who are those from?” Her tone gave her away, she already read the card.
“Fuck off,” Diana mouthed just as Cathy answered her phone, turning back to the flowers.
“Cathy Allred,” the older woman answered cheerfully.
“Hey, Cath, this is Di. I was just giving you a call back and wondering if you knew why there were 10 gigantic floral arrangements in my living room?” Diana greeted, attempting to keep her annoyance at her sister out of her voice.
Cathy’s throaty laugh came through the speaker and Di could imagine her expression was the same one that Biz was wearing.
“Oh, honey. That handsome football player from last night was leaving messages at the buttcrack of dawn trying to weasel your number out of me. When I told him that I couldn’t clear that without your direct consent, he asked if he could send flowers to our office and have them forwarded to you if security approved the message. We just didn’t expect 9 separate bouquets.”
Diana was in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received flowers unrelated to work.
“Well, uh, thank you, Cathy. That’s all I wanted. I’ll talk to you Wednesday,” Diana ended the phone call, still staring blankly at the literal dozens of roses sitting in her house.
“Soooooo,” Biz’s voice came out in her signature sing-songy tone. “Are ya gonna text him?”
Diana bit her lip. “Well, I guess I should, right?”
She could feel her anxiety creeping up in the back of her mind, almost like frost crystallizing on glass in the winter. The first voices of self-doubt were beginning to scream you’re not good enough for him and he’s only going to break your heart when a hand on Diana’s shoulder refocused her.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di,” Biz’s comforting words filled her ears. “He’s a really hot guy who is into you, so I’d say go for it. Texting him doesn’t mean you’re getting married next month, babe. But you were humping his leg like a dog in heat last night, so it probably would be proper etiquette to at least acknowledge his existence.” As was exiting the room laughing at her own joke as she said the last part.
Diana rolled her eyes and thought about her sister’s advice. Joe really was an attractive man and all signs were pointing to him being attracted to her. Their physical chemistry last night had been off the charts and even though they didn’t discuss anything super deep, she was engrossed in the conversation, always wanting to hear what Joe had to say next. She was going to do it, she was going to text him.
She added his number to her phone and began debating how to start the conversation. After drafting and redrafting the generic ‘Hi! It’s Diana” messages for nearly two minutes, she finally settled on one that would let Joe know who she was.
Joe (Quarterback)
12:32 PM
you left before saying bye last night, i’d say you’re still curving me.
Phone in hand, Diana made her way toward the smell of brunch. Before she could even make it to the breakfast nook her phone buzzed in her hands signifying she had received a text.
Tee wasn’t feeling great, I had to dash.
Let me make it up to you. I’m in NYC until Monday night.
Butterflies filled Diana’s stomach as her eyes scanned the messages she had just received. Joe didn’t leave the party because he was embarrassed by their hookup like her anxiety had been trying to convince her. He had a legitimate reason and he wanted to see her again to make up for it. Before she could let her nerves stop her, she fired off a reply to Joe
i’ll hold you to it. 😜 i’m free all day tomorrow.
Diana didn’t even get a chance to lock her phone before a new message appeared on her screen.
Not anymore. Lunch?
She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger making her stomach turn the way it was, so she decided to load up her plate before responding.
After eating a decent amount of brunch and taking a well-needed shower, Diana was lounging in her bed, Parks and Recreation on in the background, staring at Joe’s texts. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head about what her response should be. As much as she wanted to see Joe again, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear. Sure Joe seemed nice, but Connor seemed nice enough at first. She knew her ex had just sent the hateful texts to get under skin, but he knew which blows hit the hardest.
“Biiiiiiz! Come in here!” she shouted from her spot on the bed, in a frustrated squeal.
“What’s the matter?” The brunette questioned, popping her head through the door.
“I think I agreed to hang out with Joe tomorrow and I’m scared,” Diana whined, dragging out the vowels in the word ‘scared’.
A snort came from Biz as she made her way fully into the room. “He’s a man, Di, not a monster. Why are you scared?”
Diana knew this was the moment that she should share that Connor had texted her this morning, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Instead, what came out was a pitiful gasp for air that made Biz by surprise.
“Just, what if I’m supposed to be more healed than I am,” Diana breathed, tears in her eyes. “Like, what if Joe turns out to be as good as he seems? Doesn’t he deserve more than this heartbroken version of me? I’m barely myself again, Biz.”
“I think you should at least hang out with him and see where it goes. Worst comes to worst, you guys know you’re physically into each other,” Biz teased.
Diana rolled her eyes, “What if he’s expecting to fuck and I’m not ready?”
Biz shot her sister a look. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di. But let’s be real, you need to get dicked down. How long has it been?”
Diana rolled her eyes again, not wanting to acknowledge she was currently on the longest dry spell she’d ever had. Things in the bedroom aspect of her relationship with Connor never really met her standards, always dissatisfied. The past six months of their relationship had consisted of barely any intimacy, Connor claiming he wasn’t attracted to Diana at the moment. Turns out, he was just getting his needs met by her best friend.
“You’re right,” Diana gave in, texting Joe back.
1:26 PM
deal, burrow. tomorrow at noon.
Italian or Mexican?
Shit. Just got word that public restaurants are a no-go.
its okay. we can do pizza and sweets at my place
A new fear ran through Diana’s head as soon as she heard the “swoosh” sound from her head.
“What if-” Diana was cut off by her sister throwing a pillow at her face.
“Shut up,” Biz said in a more serious tone than before. “I get that you’re nervous, but stop coming up with these what-ifs. Smoke about it and attempt to channel your thoughts into something productive.” With that, Biz left the room.
Diana knew her sister was right. Not only did she tend to handle her anxiety better if she was channeling it into something productive, but she was behind on writing. Cathy had told her that the songwriters she was meeting with on Wednesday were expecting the start of at least six new songs and at this point, Diana only had four songs, three of which were fragments.
Lighting a preroll from her bedside table, Diana reached for her notebook, anxiety still at full force. As she hit the joint, she began to scribble down the thoughts that were looping in her head in an attempt to get them to stop.
I know that I’m better than this heartbroken version of me
What if he can't compete with the things that I'm scared of that keep love from me?
I get so attached and when it ends and the comedown hits I just end up hating me
The energy that it takes to be somebody’s somebody just ain’t in me.
After she had stubbed out her joint, the voice of Diana’s anxiety had dulled to a whisper and her mood had lifted considerably. When Diana looked up from her notebook and checked her phone she saw two new messages from Joe.
Awesome. Can’t wait to see you.
What are you up to?
Smiling to herself, her fingers glided across the screen to type out that she was writing, hoping it could turn into a song and returning the question. Joe must have had his phone in hand because within record time her phone was signaling a new message.
Just left lunch with the guys, can I call you?
The butterflies from earlier had returned with a vengeance accompanied by a warm flush taking over her body. Within seconds of replying with an affirmative text, her phone was ringing in her hand indicating she was receiving a FaceTime call from Joe.
“Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, internally cringing at her appearance in the camera. Her long hair was still wet from the shower and braided into Dutch braids down the side of her head and she had placed two star pimple patches on her forehead and chin, not expecting to see anyone but Biz.
“Hey! You look great,” Joe responded, white smile beaming at Diana. He appeared to be sitting against a hotel headboard, dressed in a black Bengals hoodie.
“No one likes a liar, Joe,” Diana smiled. “Wasn’t expecting a video call.”
“I just needed to make sure you were who you said you were,” Joe countered, smile turning into a playful grin. “Can’t be making plans to hang out with some rando, you know.”
Diana rolled her eyes and placed her notebook on her bedside table, the action drawing Joe’s attention.
“I’m sure girls are tripping over their own feet to eat lunch with you,” Diana let out a small laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I am myself and you have agreed to hang out with me. Now, if you’ll agree after this time, that’s a question for another day.”
“Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?” Joe quirked an eyebrow, a grin still covering his beautiful mouth.
“Well, first of all, we’re getting pineapple on our pizza. Second of all, I planned on finishing my puzzle tomorrow, so you’re now getting roped into that.”
Laughter filled the speakers before Joe’s voice said, “Well, first things first, pineapple on pizza is the right decision… But a puzzle, really? What are you, 73?”
Diana was pleasantly surprised at the ease of carrying on a conversation with Joe. She had assumed that alcohol had lubricated their last interaction, but the way the conversation flowed for the next hour proved that wrong. Joe teasing her for doing puzzles led them to talk about their other hobbies which led to them talking about what started them on their careers.
“Yeah, so I’m hoping to be back by preseason, but there’s no guarantee. I just feel like I’m letting the team and the fans down, y’know,” Joe finished explaining his injury, something Diana had known the bare minimum about before this conversation. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side. “Sorry to overwhelm you.”
“No, please don’t ever apologize for sharing your emotions, Joe. You can’t hold everything in because you’re afraid of being judged.” Diana’s heart tugged for a moment, imagining how Joe must feel after the season he had last year. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was someone he could share with even if this went nowhere.
“Okay,” Joe nodded, but still changing the subject, “So, what about you? Any new music I get to look forward to?”
Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Connor was never interested in her career, implying that the music his band made was better and more meaningful. It felt nice to have someone who wasn’t her sister inquire about the progress she was making on her new album. “Actually, I have a few writing sessions over the next few weeks with my label and some producers and start recording some new stuff in March. We’re planning on turning the EP into an extended into a standard album”
“Oh, yeah? Do you have a lot of material?” Joe asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer.
“Uh, actually, I didn’t. I’ve been writing a lot recently, though, so hopefully..” Diana trailed off, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show up on Joe’s end of the video call. It was embarrassing enough to admit to herself that she had been more inspired since Joe appeared in her life than she had been in six years, but she’d die if he figured it out.
After a few more minutes of talking, one of Joe’s teammates knocked on his door causing Joe to get off the phone. They had been on the phone for an hour, but Diana was sure she could have talked to him for three more. Diana spent the rest of her night watching the Grammys on her couch. Diana’s team still thought it was best if she stayed home this year as Connor’s band was up for nomination and they wanted to avoid as many headlines about the two as they could. They insisted that Diana stream from home and interact with fans while the awards were happening, which worked out okay in her book. She had fun posting on her Instagram stories rooting for the artist she was friends or a fan of, secretly rejoicing when Bedford Scrolls lost the award they were up for. The fact that she was able to hang out with Joe because she stayed home was definitely, absolutely, not the main reason.
—-----------------------------
If there is one thing that will never change about Diana Hayes, it’s that she’s not a morning person. Or a “before 1 PM” person, really. So when her alarm went off at 10 this morning, she wanted to press snooze with everything in her being. That was until she actually looked at her phone and noticed the text notifications on her home screen. She had the normal business updates in her team group chat, but that wasn’t the one that caught Diana’s attention.
Joe (Quarterback)
7:01 AM
Is there a specific dress code today?
A smile crossed Diana’s lips, relieved that he wasn’t canceling on her. Tapping a reply out on her phone, she got out of bed and headed towards her bathroom.
10:02 AM
whatever you’re comfortable in. i plan on restarting game of thrones today.
Diana busied herself by turning on her shower and adjusting the water temperature before her phone buzzed on the counter.
Sweats it is.
Good choice on shows. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m King In The North 😉
Diana responded with an eye roll emoji before telling Joe she would see him at noon and entering the shower. She took her time in the shower, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the uncertainty of what the afternoon held. It had been ages since she had been on a first date, if this even was one, she wasn’t sure what protocol was anymore.
An hour and twenty minutes, one pair of shaved legs, and a fight with a hair dryer later Diana was freaking out. Joe would be here in less than an hour and she was regretting everything. He’s going to make fun of me, Diana thought to herself, he’s going to come over, think I’m weird, and then make fun of me to his friends. Adjusting her position on the couch, Diana brought her hands up to pick at her lips, an anxious habit she’d had since a child.
Before her fingers could even make contact with her mouth, Biz’s hand swatted it away, an amused look on her face.
“You told me to stop you from picking!” Biz held up her arms in defense, “I just wanted to remind you to tag the bakery the croissants are from on Insta before I leave.”
Biz was driving back to Philadelphia with Eli for the day, giving Diana and Joe the apartment alone for the day. After Biz made her way out of the door, Diana busied herself taking pictures for her social media posts, starting the first episode of Game of Thrones, and snacking on the sweets that had been delivered while she was in the shower. Before she knew it her phone was ringing, Joe’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey,” Diana greeted, standing to pace in the living room.
“Hey,” Joe responded, “I’m about to get in the elevator, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost there.”
“Okay. Once you get to the 14th floor, we’re on the right. See you in a minute.”
Moments later, Diana was opening the front door of her apartment, eyes scanning over Joe’s body. He was dressed in a tie-dyed blue and purple, Space Jam crewneck and a pair of gray sweats. She had never understood before when her friends had talked about men in gray sweats, but seeing Joe had shown her the light.
“Hey,” Diana finally found her voice, gesturing for him to walk in the door.
“Hey, again,” Joe joked, making his way past Diana to stand in the entryway. Closing the door, Diana met Joe’s eyes and felt her face heat up.
“So, I have uhm, some pastries and fruit in the living room if you want to go in there. I’m like halfway through the first episode of Game of Thrones if you want to go watch.” Diana’s voice came out quicker than normal, nerves filling the space between the butterflies in her stomach.
Joe shook his head with a grin. “Alright. That sounds great to me.”
The pair made their way past the kitchen and into the living room, Diana waving her arm in the direction of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”
“Water sounds great, thanks,” Joe answered, walking to the corner of the couch.
When she returned, Joe had sat down and was taking in the surroundings of Diana’s living space. The room was the same cream color that most high-end rentals are nowadays, sectional taking up most of the space. A coffee table in front held Diana’s laptop, a plate with croissants, cinnamon rolls, and strawberries, a glass of water, and two of the flower arrangements that Joe sent her the day before. The sectional was up against a full wall picture window, sage green blinds pulled halfway across and faced a flat screen TV that was paused on an image of Daenerys Targaryen walking into a steaming bath.
“I know it’s plain, but we’re only staying here temporarily,” Diana said referring to the room they were in, her presence startling Joe.
“Oh. Planning on moving soon?” Joe inquired, pulling himself deeper into the couch. Diana set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to Joe, leaving about a foot of space between them.
“Kind of? I wanted to stay in New York until the tour starts and then Biz and I were going to look at houses,” Diana said in response, “I don’t necessarily want to settle down in a huge city, but I can’t imagine myself going back to Philly.”
“Did you hate it there or something?” Joe seemed genuinely intrigued about Diana’s plans, which was something that surprised her. She had only really known him for 36 hours and she was ready to tell him everything.
“Only since my dad died,” Diana said, instantly followed with, “Oh my god. That was so depressing. Ignore me.”
“You’re fine. It’s the real reason,” Joe chuckled, “I’ll quit interrogating you.”
The two talked a little more about Joe’s flight back to Cincinnati at 9 and the Grammys that happened the night before, somehow landing on their Game of Thrones opinions.
“I won’t deny that she’s completely batshit insane, yes. But she’s one of the best characters!” Diana said, excitedly of Cersei.
“That’s not what you said, you said she was your favorite character,” Joe countered, “Which, if it is true, is wild.”
Diana laughed as she brought her legs onto the couch and crossed them crisscross-applesauce. The space that had previously existed between her and Joe disappeared, her knee pressing into his thigh. Attempting to ignore the heat that was making its way up her neck, Diana leaned forward and grabbed the remote.
“Just watch it from my perspective,” she said before pressing play.
The rest of the first episode and the entire second one played while Diana and Joe snacked and gave commentary on what was happening in the show. Between episodes, Diana had readjusted, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over herself. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime around the opening credits of the third episode after she had ordered pizza, she found herself pressed into Joe’s side with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Within fifteen minutes of that, Diana found herself straddling Joe, hands on either side of his face, lips moving in sync with his. Joe’s right hand found its way to her hair as her lips traveled to the hair on his jawline.
“I like this scruff,” Diana panted between kisses, starting at his chin and making her way back up to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Joe’s left hand traveled to her waist, reaching under her t-shirt and making contact with her bare skin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” just loud enough for Diana to hear. Diana ground her hips into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and his hand traveled to her breast, massaging it eagerly.
They continued kissing a moment longer until Joe grabbed hold of Diana and laid her down on the couch. His lips found her neck and he asked, “Is this okay?” as he shifted his weight to not crush the woman below him, his left hand returned to its place under her shirt. “Take this off,” Joe said, gesturing to the material. Diana complied.
“Couldn’t be better,” Diana sighed as Joe nipped lightly at her collarbone, tongue following shortly after his teeth.
“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement,” his voice laced with lust and arrogance. Just as Diana was about to ask what he meant, Joe’s hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her sweatpants.
With a nod of Diana’s head, Joe’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of both her sweatpants long fingers gently brushing her clit through her panties. A soft moan left Diana’s lips as she leaned forward to connect her lips to Joe’s again. His fingers teased her, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the material separating him from her core. Lifting her hips hoping Joe would get the hint, she pressed her core firmly against his fingers.
“More,” she breathed. Joe pulled the fabric aside and his fingers were instantly met with the slick wetness of Diana’s arousal. Sliding his middle finger along her slit, he brought it up to her clit and began to rub. Pleasure clouded Diana’s thoughts, Joe’s voice asking her if he could take her pants off barely making it through haze. She lifted her hips and pulled the material down her legs as Joe sat up, tugging his shirt over his head.
Joe stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. Laying in only her black lace panties, Diana was too busy enjoying her own view to shy away from the hunger Joe was staring at her with. Joe was clearly a man who took care of his body and it showed. She was in awe.
Before Diana could process the definition of his muscles, Joe had resumed his position next to her, covering her lips with another kiss. Then, without hesitation, he took her left nipple in her mouth. Diana moaned again, arousal red hot between her legs. It wasn’t long until Joe’s mouth began moving downward again, leaving kisses until he got to Diana’s hip bones.
“Can I?” Joe asked, staring up hungrily at Diana. Hesitant, Diana thought it over for a second. She had only received oral three times in her past relationship as her ex had found numerous reasons to avoid the act, most of them criticisms of Diana. Everything from she was unattractive to she was too picky when it came to the way he did it. Trying to shake thoughts of her ex from her head, Diana reassured herself that every signal Joe had given her had proved he wanted to do this. Finally, she nodded her head.
Wasting no time after getting her consent, Joe placed his lips around Diana’s clit and began sucking. Instinctively, her hips bucked into him, eager for more pleasure. Diana felt Joe smile into her skin, then a finger slid into her while he continued to suck and lick at her. After some movement, Joe added another finger, pausing a moment to help her get used to the width.
Diana tried to clear her mind, looking down at the man between her legs. His fingers were moving inside of her, curling to hit a spot inside of her that she seemed rather receptive to the first time he hit it. A warm tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to clear any insecurities from her mind.
“Fuck..” Joe’s mouth drew another slow moan out of Diana’s mouth. She leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows. “As amazing as this feels- fuck. I don’t think that I’ll be able to- holy shit!- finish this way.”
Joe pulled his face away from her core, licking his lips and shaking his head. “I think you underestimate my determination,” he stated. Not breaking eye contact, he dipped his head back down and placed another kiss on her clit and added another finger to the ones busy between her folds.
Joe’s hands and mouth continued in unison to work their magic until moments later when tension in her core began to build towards a peak and her body convulsed. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down lightly as Joe’s teeth lightly grazed her clit. He used his free hand to rest against her hip bones, trying to hold her in place so he could help bring her to climax. Releasing her clit from his mouth, began to move his fingers with more purpose, trying to match the pace that Diana was trying to set.
“Fuck. Fuck! Joe, I think I’m going to-” Diana was cut off by her orgasm. Joe continued to pump his fingers into her as he peppered kisses on her forehead. Warmth radiated through her body, starting at her core and rippling from her head to her toes.
“That’s right, baby. Just let it happen,” he encouraged as Diana let herself give in to the sensation.
Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Diana was staring into Joe’s blue eyes. “Thank you. I promise you did not need to do that” Diana whispered, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her.
“I didn’t have to, I wanted to,” his response helped ease her worries. “Besides, I didn’t want to not live up to what was advertised,” he joked, referencing the interview Ja’Marr had given. Just then, the doorbell rang indicating that the pizza they delivered had arrived.
An hour later, Joe and Diana had devoured an entire pizza and had spent the entire time deep in conversation. Trying to avoid bringing up what just happened, Diana kept the topics focused on friends and growing up. She learned about Joe’s parents and his brothers and heard what it was like to grow up in a relatively small town in Ohio, while she told Joe about how she grew up in Philadelphia, her mom leaving before she turned 10, and her dad passing away a few years ago. It felt almost relieving to have someone ask questions about the things she actually cared about.
It wasn’t long before Joe’s phone started ringing from its spot on the coffee table. Joe stood up and walked out of the room to take the call. It was a quarter till six, meaning that Joe’s flight left in less than 5 hours. Diana’s head began swimming with contradicting thoughts, sad that he had to leave soon and fear of what that meant.
When Joe ended the call, he walked back into the room, looking at his phone. “Apparently, I should leave in no more than ten minutes to make it back in time to pack for our flight. I guess I should leave” Joe looked just as conflicted as Diana felt. “Will I get to see you again?”
Diana felt her heart start beating harder than it ever had. This man was a fucking dream.
“Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that,” Diana nodded, walking Joe to the door.
“Cool. I had a really good time today,” a smile covered Joe’s face when Diana turned a deep red. “I’m willing to repeat it anytime,” he said with a wink.
Diana shoved Joe slightly, arriving at the front door. Joe engulfed her in a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.
“But seriously, I would like to hang out again. I’ll text you, okay?” He was looking down at her now, smirk still on his face
With a nod, Diana pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Making sure she locked the door behind him, she raced to her phone to send her sister a text.
Sending the message, Diana couldn’t help to smile to herself. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from this relationship with Joe, but she knew for sure she wanted more of it.
===================================
Sorry for the delay, I just couldn't get this chapter right! Hope you all enjoy! If you've read this far, please let me know what you think, even on anon!
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The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy
CHAPTER 1
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)
Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N
Words: 1.6K
A/N: Alright, this took MONTHS. Big thanks for @chaosandbubbles for always validating my writing.
Masterlist
January 2004
Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy
Vanished when I saw your face
All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you
-Enchanted, Taylor Swift
“Hey hon, want you to take this one,” Dr. Dalton says, a hint of pride in his voice as he pokes his spikey ginger hair in through our shared office space. I glance up, confused for a minute and he chuckles at the sight, coming into the room leisurely, his stride confident and collected. The clipboard is clasped between his fingers as he offers it to me with a smile. “I want to see how you do without me looming over your shoulder and breathing down your neck.” I feel my eyes practically bulge out of my head. “Relax. The guy’s in here pretty regularly, he’s decent. He won’t bite,” he adds, pushing it into my shaking hands as I stand. He tacks in a barely audible “Probably.”
“A-Are you sure?” I mumble, words practically being choked out.
“Trust me. You’re ready.” His hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, if he starts convulsing or salivating at the mouth, I’ll be right in here.” I breathe a deep sigh, attempting to bury the anxiety that swirls through my mind by retying my hair into its almost-too-tight ponytail. Spinning on my heel, I walk into the sterile white room. Why they don’t paint these rooms to be more inviting, I will never understand.
The lavender diffuser does little to cover the overwhelming scent of antiseptic and bleach, my nose scrunching unconsciously as I glance down at the clipboard in my hands, which are still trembling.
“Glad I’m not the only one who hates the way it smells in here.” The voice that speaks is deeper, and I jump a little at the suddenness of the unexpected sound. Finding the source is easy, and my stomach flips when I see him sitting in the blue plastic chair.
Dark tee shirt clinging to defined muscles, the fabric stretching to accommodate the flex as his arms are crossed across a broad chest, black pants a little less tight but still leaving no question of his strength and stature. His legs are outstretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles leisurely. His stringy blonde hair is curtaining over his cheekbone, not quite covering the obvious blue of his eyes. The lingering sensation of those eyes trained on me makes me feel exposed, like a bug preparing for dissection, but I shake the feeling off.
“You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I can’t seem to get over it,” I say, glancing down at the clipboard once again, just long enough to get his name. “Do you wanna come sit over on the exam table so I can get a good look at you, Agent Kennedy?” I ask, watching as his eyebrows raise with a small smirk appearing on his lips. I quickly tumble over more words. “I mean, a good look at your injuries, not you specifically. I mean, not that you’re not…” I take a shaky breath before laughing slightly at myself. “I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead.” He chuckles to himself, almost silently, like he was trying to conceal it before standing and following me to the table. The clipboard hits the table with a crisp clang before I turn to the agent now seated on a slightly softer plastic and crinkly paper.
“I hate being in here, but Hunnigan insisted on it this time,” he explains, fingers clasped together, resting in his lap. It’s hard not to notice the way his eyes dart around the room at the smallest sounds; Dalton stapling something in the office, the ding of the elevator, even the wheels of some kind of cart out in the hallway causes his muscles to tense almost painfully.
“Any reason why?” I ask, grabbing two blue nitrile gloves from the box labeled with a tiny little ‘S’ while trying to keep my eyes on him. He shrugs.
“My right shoulder took a hit, and I think a couple of my ribs are broken.” It’s a start. I move toward him, moving slowly enough that he is able to predict my motions. No need to put him more on edge than he clearly already is.
“Can I have you remove your shirt so I can take a look at the shoulder?” I ask innocently. “I can turn aro-” I practically choke on the rest of the words as his arms cross over his chest before gripping the hem of the fabric and easily removing it. He sets it down next to his thigh on the makeshift bed. A light chuckle pierces my ears and I look away from the black and blue patches of bruises that are smattered across his ribcage.
“You’re looking like you’ve never seen a guy without his shirt on.” The tone of his voice is cocky, pride wafting off of him in waves. Or maybe that’s the sweat.
“That’s not why I was surprised,” I admit, walking over to remove an ice pack from the freezer before tossing it to him, which he catches easily. “Press that to your ribs, please, Agent Kennedy.” It has a ‘please’ tacked on, but the man can clearly tell that it wasn’t a request. He listens, hissing at the chill on his skin as I move around to look at his shoulder. Asking him to turn away from my frame, I take a small breath at finally being released from his intense gaze. The shoulder is much worse than I thought, something bloody hidden under some crude gauze pads secured with medical tape. “I’m gonna remove this gauze.” He nods, his hair bobbing slightly at the movement.
“Can I ask what did this?” I question, tenderly attempting to peel the gauze off with as little pain as possible, but the skin has taken to sticking to it cause of the dried blood. I feel him tense slightly at the sensation.
“That’s… classified.” Mumbled words barely audible. I nod in understanding, despite knowing he can’t actually see it. I drop the piss-poor patch job onto the table, frustration rising. There is a gash the size of my forearm sunken into the light skin there. “Did they disinfect this?” He shrugs noncommittally with his left shoulder. I sigh, irritated at his lack of communication. This is his body. Why does it seem like he’d rather be anywhere else?
“I’ve never seen you in here. Are you new?” He asks, making small talk to fill the blatantly uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah, just started a few weeks ago. Dr. Dalton wanted me to take care of this on my own,” I explain and then, giving him fair warning before I gently pour some disinfectant on the wound. Another hiss. A mumbled apology.
“Ah, so I’m your first victim?” He asks with a smile, his head cocking to the side to make brief eye contact. A poor attempt at an evil laugh leaves my lips in response, cheeks dusting pink at the smile I receive.
“Yes. How does it feel, knowing your name will live in infamy once I’m caught?” I ask, a teasing lithe in my tone. He scoffs, but I can still see the small smile he wears.
“Just make it quick, yeah? I won’t even plead for my life.” The words are meant to be a joke, and deep down, I know that. But the way he says it? It’s almost like he actually wants that. I give my head a slight shake to clear the thought as I tenderly place a softer gauze over the gash before securing it, the wrapping going over the top of his shoulder and under his armpit a few times. I pat his shoulder gently before walking around in front of him again, his eyes finding mine quickly.
“I have good news, Agent. You’ll make it.”
“Yeah? Not gonna keel over?” He asks, gesturing to his shirt. I nod, signaling to him that he is free to put it back on.
“Nope.” I pause, mind running with the desire to help. If he’ll let me. “Can I ask you something?” His gaze returns to me after tugging the fabric back down, watching as it settles comfortably over his form.
“Sure.”
“Do you wanna talk to Dr. Dalton about any kind of therapy or medication? I couldn’t help but notice how on edge-”
“It’s cause I just got back. The overactive perception fades after a bit. I’m fine.” The softness of his eyes has faded, turning into a brick wall. Or a dam, to hold it all in.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just trying to he-”
“Am I good to go?” The tone in his voice has shifted, cold and distant, all sources of the smiles I saw earlier gone. I nod mutely, handing him a form and a pen to sign the paper with. Then the pen scratches across the paper roughly before he hands it back, and I’m finding it impossible to meet his eyes, despite his earlier behavior of not looking anywhere but at me. He walks toward the exit, and I can hear his boots thudding against the tiled floor.
“You did good.” I turn quickly toward the door at hearing his voice again.
“Sorry?” My voice is quieter than intended, almost making it sound like I’m afraid. Agent Kennedy’s head tilts, looking over his shoulder, no smile, just looking.
“You did a good job. You took good care of your first victim.” For a moment, and only a moment, I see a glimmer of a smirk flit across his mouth before he’s gone, the echo of his boots practically filling my ears as he makes his way down the hallway.
Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv
Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088
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Halloween and cringetober may be behind us, yet I remain, coughing this up onto your back porch. Alec Lisa and Aisha were the only ones who enjoyed the costume party. Individuals and costume explanations below the cut:
Aisha and Brian: Power and Aki Hayakawa Chainsaw Man
This one goes out to the nine-year old I work with who wore a Denji costume for the school Halloween parade. Shoutout to you guy I don't know how you're allowed to watch that its the blood and sexual fantasies show.
I feel like miss suiciding-baiting-people-on-4chan would like Power. Aki works for Brian as they carry the "supposedly normal responsible one of their batshit group who very clearly has something wrong with him" niche of their series.
I feel like CSM is something that Brian and Alec would put on in the background when they were hanging out together. It's not really either of their thing, but it good pizza night fodder. Brian freaks out when Aisha mentions watching it.
Brian agreed to be Aki after he learned he could just wear a suit instead of making a real costume. Brian obviously likes objectively ridiculous costumes but it has to be something strained through 5 layers of machismo and a 17-year-old's idea of professionalism. He'll dress like something that gets painted onto a van but if there's too much whimsy or fun he'll start to freak. So halloween costumes would be weird for him. Aki just wearing a suit and a sword seemed like a good solution for this right up until the point where he had to explain what it was. Its from, hm, y'know, uhhhh this anime that my sister likes I'm just here to match with her.
Whenever he pulls the "I'm just in costume for my sister" thing Aisha makes everyone forget she exists. No escaping the weeb allegations for you Brian.
Taylor and Lisa: Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi, Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Don't know if I need to explain this one, Worm/Madoka comparisons are almost cliche at this point
The costumes were Lisa's idea. Obviously.
The costumes were also Lisa's purchases, and enough was spent on them to make a veteran cosplayer weep. Her refusal to die her hair black would also make them weep but for different reasons.
After taking a look at herself Taylor enveloped herself in a particularly dense bug swarm for the whole night.
She eventually retreated to some side-room she found Brian hiding in and chatted with him for the rest of the party. On the condition that he make a darkness cloud for her.
She started choking on a prawn half an hour in after remembering he could see through his darkness clouds.
Rachel and Alec: Jade Harley and Dirk Strider, Homestuck
They are not going as a matching pair. Rachel does not know that she and Alec are wearing costumes from the same comic. She does not know what Homestuck is. This is one of the many ways she's better than us.
Rachel thinks she should've just been able to wear her usual dog mask for this party. Its a costume. What do you mean it doesn't count.
And why is her usual mask not enough, but the dog ears Cassie was really excited to loan her are fine? Aren't ears less costume than a full mask?
Admittedly apart from the pseudo-mind-control Alec and Dirk don't have a lot in common. Alec probably thinks he's more like Dirk than he actually is.
Dirk is if the concept of being in your own head was a guy, nay several guys, while Alec literally has to outsource getting in touch with his emotions to other bodies. Honestly the closest worm character to Dirk would probably be Krouse, considering the whole "chessmaster-manipulator who puts everything on himself and overmanages all his relationships while self-identifying as the person who can handle being the bad guy" thing, which Alec doesn't have going on at all. However:
It let me put Alec in a silly little fancylad outfit.
(Also they're both SB&HJ fans, so honestly I think its the perfect choice).
#parahumans#brian laborn#aisha laborn#taylor hebert#lisa wilbourn#rachel lindt#alec vasil#worm#wildbow#undersiders#leo says#leo draws#cringetober#halloween
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sad, beautiful, tragic
distance, timing, breakdown, fighting
silence, the train runs off its tracks
kiss me, try to fix it
could you just try to listen?
hang up, give up
and for the life of us, we can get back
peter parker x reader!!
(treacherous part 2)
PLOT - in which peter parker tries to talk to his rival after multiple drunk make out sessions the previous night.
WARNINGS - sexual references, no smut, make out scenes, allusions to sexual activity, weed, smoking, kiss and makeup attitude
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“just talk to her, don’t be an arse” gwen smiled, swaying with the movement of the subway. the sun peeked through the windows as the train made its way out of a tunnel and closer to their destination.
“what exactly are you supposed to say to someone you made out with like, 3 times while drunk?? especially if you used to hate their guts”
“i don’t know, ‘sorry i hated you before, i just internalised my fetish for goth stoners as hatred- let’s make out some more’ or something-“ gwen joked, before being cut off by a frustrated peter.
“are you kidding me? she’s gonna spot us across the carriage any second now and i won’t have any idea what to say to her!”
y/n sat cross legged in her seat, reading some depressing book from the early 1900’s about some depressing characters, written by a depressed closeted gay man. she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ears before re-adjusting her headphones. “i bet she’s listening to fucking my chemical romance or korn or some shit,” peter chuckled as his eyebrows furrowed, gripping onto the hanging bars of the train carriage.
“nope, look on spotify,” gwen corrected. peter turned away from y/n to look over at gwen, his eyes drifting to the screen of her phone.
“it says she’s listening to… taylor swift?” she said, a confused expression painted on her face. peter jolted his head back in shock, overcome with anxiety. “aunt may loves taylor swift…” he murmured, the rustle of the train carriage pulling him away from gwen.
“let me see what song,” peter insisted as he gestured to see gwen’s phone. she passed it over to him, watching his face move as he read the title.
“sad, beautiful, tragic… i’m pretty sure that’s from red, right?” peter questioned. gwen shrugged her shoulders in response. “i don’t know. i’m more of a midnights and evermore type of girl” she replied. peter scrolled down to the lyrics of the song, his eyes widening and his lips pursing.
“gwen, i’m totally fucked”
y/n had slept on what had happened the previous night. spider-man saved her from getting robbed and gave her some very unhelpful advice. what the fuck would spider-man know anyways? he doesn’t get any bitches. y/n may have also ghosted peter, but who cares? y/n put her heart out on the table, for some reason expecting more from the person who constantly teased her everyday for 2 years. sure, she should’ve saw it coming, but she didn’t. which is why she was going to be as dramatic as possible.
this meant a new playlist. no more limp biskit; nobody cries to ‘break stuff’!! it was time to listen to the entire red album on repeat, along with ‘ultraviolence’ and elliott smith. y/n was fully ready to be a sad little bitch.
on monday morning, she scored a seat on the subways and started listening to her new playlist, putting on one particular taylor swift song on repeat while she read her sad little bitch book. she looked up for a split second to see peter and gwen talking.
‘oh, so he can make time to talk to gwen, but not the girl he snogged three times?’ y/n thought.
y/n turned up her volume and put away her book as she listened to the lyrics of the song. the train pulled up to the station within walking distance to her school and so she stood up. catching the eye of peter as she walked to the doors, she quickly averted her gaze and took a few steps back.
peter flinched at the sudden eye contact, turning his full body towards gwen. “gwen. do something” he anxiously muttered. gwen nodded, smiling innocently, before beginning to casually walk over to y/n.
“y/n! how’d that hangover treat you?” gwen asked, pulling in y/n for a comfortable hug. y/n smiled hesitantly and embraced the act of affection. “so, so badly,” she replied, thinking back to the incident that followed the day after the party.
“the hangover is the least of my troubles” she stated and she glanced over at peter, who was watching both of them. “oh, do you mean…” gwen asked as she gestured over to the lanky boy trailing behind them, walking onto the platform as the train doors opened.
“what? no! i was mugged,” y/n announced, arching her eyebrows. peter didn’t look surprised. y/n took note of this, feeling somewhat offended that he didn’t care.
“y/n! are you okay?? how did that happen?” gwen asked, completely and utterly shocked. peter walked over. “wait, yeah… are you okay y/n?” he asked, breaking out of his anxious state for one moment.
y/n sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “i’m fine, spider-man saved me and then gave me some very unhelpful advice.” she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes darting between gwen and peter. “he’s a total ride though- i hope he’s not like… 46 or something,” she continued. gwen chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as her cheeks turned pink. “did you get to feel his abs?” she asked as the trio walked across queens to get to school.
“yeah, they were rock hard. i didn’t expect him to be so fit!” y/n exclaimed. peter tried to stifle his blush as they got closer to the school, blocking out their conversation.
as they entered the gates, gwen quickly walked towards her class, leaving the two alone.
“um, we have math-“
“i know, peter” y/n interrupted. her voice was cold and unemotional- a stark difference form her previous cheerful demeanour. this was the guy that she was squabbling with for years now… the guy that she also maybe had a few steamy dreams about as well. her preconceived notions about peter were contradicting with her fantasies and the realities of what happened over the weekend- causing her to spiral into a semi-depressed state of rage.
peter, on the other hand, knew exactly what he thought of y/n. he always thought that she was attractive, but a total arse. now, he found her being an arse super endearing. but that could have something to do with the fact that they made out 3 times and he almost touched her boobs.
the two walked in awkward silence to their math class, a strong tension in the air. they took their seats and sat painfully silently for an hour.
y/n tapped her pen on her notebook, not listening to a word the teacher was saying. ‘fuck it,’ she thought, ripping out a piece of paper.
she scribbled a few words down before passing it over to peter.
‘make up for ghosting me by skipping second period and hiding in the unisex bathrooms’
‘sure :)’
the unisex bathrooms were dimly lit, far away from the rest of campus. surrounded by unused classrooms. the unisex bathrooms were a prime hookup spot… but for y/n, it was her own personal hotbox.
she lit the end of her joint and put her lighter in her jacket pocket as she leaned against the bathroom wall. y/n took a drag as she stared at the wall. she took another short hit, before passing it to peter. he did the same, his legs crossed.
“so why didn’t you text me, dick face?” she started, crossing her arms. smoke escaped her lips as the talked, mesmerising peter.
“dick face?” peter repeated, stifling a grin as he shook his head.
“um… i guess i didn’t know what to say,” he replied, passing back the joint. y/n smiled awkwardly as she rolled her eyes. “classic parker…”
“well, do you know what to say now?” y/n asked, sliding down to the floor, head level with peter. he shrugged his shoulders. “kinda,” he muttered.
“are you gonna say it, mcslutty?”
“i don’t appreciate the name-calling, y/n.” he said irritably, his voice somewhat breathy.
“you ghosted me too, remember?” peter added, raising his eyebrows.
“yeah, but i was mugged!” she said defensively, opening her mouth in shock. “obviously i was too busy!”
peter laughed, covering his face. “fair point.”peter pursed his lips, looking down before taking another hit of the joint.
peter took a deep breath in, tapping the floor anxiously. “i really like you, y/n” peter averted his eyes. “i used the think i didn’t, but i was just lying to myself so i wouldn’t have to confront the fact that there’s actually nice stuff about you,” he’s smirked.
y/n chuckled. “what nice stuff?”
“your face, obviously. your musical skills, your rolling skills. you’re also really funny, and you’re so generous. you’re not nice to everyone, but you still help everyone- if that makes sense? but yeah… shit like that i guess,”
y/n smiled sincerely, slightly tilting her head to the side. “that’s pretty sweet, shithead”
it took them a whole 40 seconds before they started jamming their lips together, peter’s hands gripping y/n’s waist as she sat on top of his lap. her hands cupped his face gently, occasionally pulling a hand away and running it through his hair.
she pulled away for air, before continuing her attack on his lips, her hands trailing down his torso as she fiddled with his shirt. peter pulled away, looking up at her before her eyes drifting to her hands.
“what are you doing there?” he asked teasingly, his voice limited to a hoarse whisper.
she began to frantically kiss his neck, her hands still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “felt something hard. wondering if you’re ripped or just really horny.” she muttered breathily, one hand resting under his shirt as she caressed his torso, while the other hand gripped a bundle of his hair.
he looked as her curiously as she felt up his chest, watching her pull away with a look of shock and confusion. “peter? what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her hair messy and cheeks red.
“what? what’s wrong?” peter asked, panicked as his eyes drifted down to his pants, before meeting her eyes again. his face turned red, putting up his hands in surrender.
“hey, you were the one grinding against my-“
“no, you’re fully ripped!” she whispered, her eyes wide as her hand retracted from under his shirt. “jesus christ…” she muttered, lifting his shirt to take a peek.
peter burst out into a fit of dry laughter, tilting his head back and lightly hitting the wall of the bathroom stall.
“oh, yeah. that.” he said casually. y/n grumbled, standing up.
“right. i was not expecting that.” she huffed, her face completely red.
“anyways, i’m not fucking you in a hot-boxed bathroom stall at school. if you decide to stop being a little bitch and message me, maybe i’ll forgive you for ghosting me.” y/n proposed, leaning against the wall as she looked down at peter.
peter nodded, standing up. he opened the door, turning to face her. “yeah, i definitely won’t be ghosting you anytime soon. sorry about that, by the way.” he murmured.
“it’s fine. just as long as you send me a picture of your abs after school.” she demanded, her face completely serious as she looked peter up and down. peter nodded, his eyes wide.
she bit her lip, meeting his eyes once again. “seriously, they’re almost as good at spider-man’s.” she added, exiting the bathroom- leaving peter alone to deal with his thoughts.
#peter parker rivals to lovers#peter parker x reader enemies to lovers#peter parker enemies to lovers#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker#spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x you#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland
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But You can Show Me? (One-Shot)
Billy Taylor X (Hotel Guest Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Billy Taylor Master List
Full Master List
Banners by @arcielee
A/N: I have been holding onto this one in my drafts forever, the absolute filth in this had me hesitant to post 🤣 but alas time to release some more Billy Taylor into the world!
Warnings: Cheating, unprotected sex, smut, corruption kink (if you blink). (I suck at warnings, so if you think I should add something, please tell me!)
Why are all men so disgusting!
That thought has been playing in your head on a loop for the past two days. Since you caught your husband deep in the throws of passion with her. His secretary.
Your husband was supposed to be the love of your life. Your fairytale ending. You were supposed to fill your home with a cacophony of the laughs of children and declarations of undying love and devotion.
A farce. That is what it had been. Something entirely made up in your head. Unfortunately, you were the last one to figure that out.He hadn't even looked guilty when caught. Just annoyed as if you should have had the respect to wait until he was finished to question him about his actions.
Two days staying at a friend's house was long enough. You were thrilled to be spending your husband's hard earned money to stay at a fancy hotel while you figured out a way to get yourself out of this marriage without becoming destitute. He hadn't chased you down. No begging for you to come home. No promises that it wouldn't repeat. Just a "take some time to yourself" and a wave of his hand. Thank God for small kindnesses.
You step out of the town car that your husband paid to bring you here. Your black hair is curled to your shoulders. You wore your cutest cocktail dress. Black with red trimmings. Head held high. You step forward and take a look at the hotel. Big, fancy, just what you deserve after what you've been through.
Two bellboys meet you out front and introduce themselves as Billy and Derek.
Derek lifts your suitcase while Billy takes care of the hotel introduction.
"Hello, Miss, welcome to the Halycon hotel. My name is Billy, and I will be showing you to your room. " he stumbles over his words a little bit, making you smile. It's obvious he is making his best effort to follow the script given to him by hotel management.
"Thank you very much, Billy."
Billy brings you to the check-in counter.
"Room key for -" Billy scratches his chin and then flushes in embarrassment when he realizes he forgot to ask the guests name. He turns back to you, cheeks flushed bright red.
"Umm, M-miss. What is the name for the R-reservation?"
You tell him your name and get your room key heading to the lift.
As you get into the lift, Billy takes your bag from Derek and waves him off. You can tell billy is incredibly nervous. It's endearing.
"So how long will you be staying with us miss?" He asks voice squeaking at the end of the last word.
"Not quite sure yet," you smile at him, and you see a faint blush paint his cheeks.
As the lift reaches your floor, Billy puts his hand out as if keeping the lift door from closing on you as you step out.
You step to the side and wait for Billy to lead you to your room. He struggles a bit with your suitcase, and you stifle a giggle.
"Room 308" Billy stops in front of the door.
"Thank you, Billy." You open the door with your key, and he carries your luggage in.
"Just there is fine" Billy puts down your suitcase and rubs his palms on his trousers.
"Hold on one moment," you say as you start to fish around your purse, looking for some money for his tip.
"Oh that's ok you don't need to give me anything" he says nervously
"It will take just a moment. I know I have something in here," you continue fishing around. "How old are you, Billy?" You ask while continuing to dig through your bag.
"18. Just waiting on my draft papers now" he says proudly.
"Oh, is that right? I feel safer already knowing such a strong kind young man will be out there keeping us safe, " you smile finally, finding some money in your bag. You hand him a little cash and smile.
"Oh..... ummm.... thank you very much, miss, " he says with another flush of red covering his cheeks.
"Oh, I have one more thing for you," you say as you walk over to him and place a soft kiss on his cheek. His body goes rigid, and his face turns a dark red. Even the tips of his ears are red now.
Billy clears his throat, nods, and skates out of the room as quickly as he can.
You quickly unpack, making yourself comfortable in the room, trying not to stay in your thoughts.
You have a meeting with a solicitor in the morning hoping to find a way out of your failed marriage, and your stress level is through the roof.
In the evening, you decide to go out and bring dinner back. The thought of sitting alone in a restaurant is mortifying to you.
As you walk back into the hotel, you spot the adorable bell boy from this morning hat off looking like he must be getting ready to head out for the day.
"Hi Billy," you say as sweetly as possible as you pass by him on your way towards the lift.
"Oh... em hello miss" he says with that familiar blush highlighting his cheeks.
You tell yourself you should end it there. Keep walking up to your room with your lonely dinner and sit around in self-pity. Is that what you actually do? No.
"Did you get your draft papers?" You look at him expectantly.
"Oh, ummm, not yet. Sure, it will be soon. " he half mumbles half stutters.
You scramble around in your head, trying to think up a way to keep the conversation going but draw a blank.
"Oh. Ok then. You have a nice night, Billy. " Your voice is gentle with a hint of sadness as you continue on your way to the lift.
"Oh miss!" Billy follows after you. "A-are you alright?" His brows furrow slightly.
"Oh yes, I'm ok," you say with a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Just off to have supper," you hold up your bag of food.
"Alone?" Billy asks immediately, regretting he had asked "Oh that's none of my business miss. I apologize truly"
"Oh no, it's quite alright Billy, yes supper is a solitary activity for me as of late"
"If you fancy some company, I could sit with ya for a bit. I've got some time?" He sounds entirely unsure of himself, but you got to hand it to the guy. That was brave.
"Oh... sure I wouldn't mind the company. " You smile sweetly at him.
The two of you walk back to your room in silence. Both of you too nervous to say much.
When you get into the room, you sit down at the small table and set up your food.
"So Billy, tell me a bit about yourself?"
"Oh.. ummm...... erm....me? Not much to tell miss." He cheeks are starting to flush as his eyes dart around the room.
"I'm sure that isn't true....... is there a particular station you are hoping to get when your draft letter comes?"
"Oh...oh! Yes. Yes, miss.... I hope to be where the action is." He smiles with pride
"But won't your family and your girl be so worried?" You say as you pick at your food.
His face flushes bright red again. " oh....um...oh I've got no girl, miss..." he looks away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Now your face starts to flush. You thought for sure a sweet boy like this would be matched up with an equally sweet girl. " Oh?..... That's...... that's quite a shock, if I'm honest"
His face is beat red now, and his grin is so wide that you're sure it must be slightly uncomfortable."w-w-why is t-that miss?" He looks over at you with puppy dog eyes.
'Oh boy. This is dangerous.' You think to yourself.
"It's just...." You look at him with mischievous eyes. " You are such a handsome young man. I'm just shocked a lady hasn't snatched you up yet"
His face is so red at this point that you're convinced it must be burning up. "Oh" he says quietly.
You move your chair over so you are facing him without the table between you. He starts breathing a bit faster while fidgeting with his bellboy cap in his lap.
"What are you so red for?" You say teasing.
"Oh miss, I'm not... no, " he says, touching his cheeks, no doubt feeling how hot his face has gotten.
You put your fingers under his chin and lift his head so he is eye level with you.
His breath catches in his throat, and he makes a slight coughing sound.
"Ummm miss? What is happening here?" He looks so lost and excited.
"Why did you want to come to my room with me?" You ask while gently rubbing your thumb on his chin.
" i-i-I.. what?" He asks entirely flustered.
"What made you want to come up here and be all alone with little. Old. Me." You tap his nose three times.
"Well.. i...i...umm.." he whimpers and looks at you helplessly at a complete loss for words.
"Maybe you were looking for a kiss?" You lean in towards him
His eyes go wide, and he stiffens. He opens his mouth as if he is going to speak, but all that comes out is a squeak.
"May I give you a kiss, Billy?" You say leaning in even closer
He nods furiously, his face becoming ever redder
You stand out of your chair and lean down a place a chaste kiss on his lips. You sit back in your seat and smile as you watch him he has a huge smile on his face and has yet to reopen his eyes.
"Billy?"
"Hmmmm?" He hums with his eyes still closed
You giggle "you can open your eyes now"
"No" he chuckles " not yet"
"But you'll miss what I do next," you say seductively as you move toward him.
His eyes fly open. "n-next?"
"What have you......done....with a woman up to this point Billy?" You ask eyes locked on his
"D-done? Lots of stuff, a course, " he answers with genuine confusion, and this basically answers your question.
'Do I really want to be the one to corrupt this seemingly angelic young man?' You think to yourself. As you mull this thought over your eyes, don't leave his, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he makes sense of what you asked him, and you can see the moment where the pieces fall into place.
"Oh... wow, miss." His face turns bright red again.
You sit back in your chair, and he picks up on your hesitation right away.
He scrambles out of his chair and onto his knees in front of you.
"Not much at all, miss. Not much at all... but....but.... but you can show me?" He looks up at you all eagerness and beautiful blue eyes.
'Call me the devil' you think to yourself as you slip out of your chair and onto your knees with Billy.
You grab him by the cheeks and pull his face towards yours as he shuffles closer towards you on his knees.
You press your lips against his, and he eagerly tries to kiss you back he's a bit over excited, and his kiss is sloppy, but this serves to excite you more as you smile into the kiss.
You nibble his bottom lip as he whimpers, and he does the same back to you.
You pull back and smile at him, his face is flushed, and his eyes are almost all pupil.
"Let's get a bit more comfortable, yeah?" You ask as you get up and reach your hand out to him.
He nods as he stands up, following you over to the bed like he is in a daze.
You sit on the edge of the bed and take your shoes off .
"C'mere," you pat the bed beside you. Billy sinks down next to you, breathing fast and fingers twitching.
You lean in close to his ear and whisper, "No shoes on the bed." You then crawl up onto the bed as he tries to get his shoes off as quickly as possible.
You lay back and motion for him to join you. He turns and crawls towards you on his hands and knees. You grab him by his collar, pulling him over you, slotting him between your legs.
He looks down on you, his body slightly shaking.
You start to unbutton his jacket, and he loses patience plucking the buttons quickly and tossing the jacket to the floor. Once it's off he looks down at you smiling as if awaiting further instruction.
You grab his cheeks and pull him down to you, kissing him gently. He kisses back with passion, grabbing the sides of your face and pressing his lips to yours harshly.
"Billy...... take your time, love." You giggle as he presses his forehead to yours.
"Sorry, miss. Got a little caught up in it, is all. " he brings his face down to yours and starts to kiss you this time calmly but still with purpose. He pushes his tongue against your lips, and you open your mouth, enjoying the sensuality.
"You're a quick study," you say as he pulls his face back to breathe.
His cheeks tinge pink again as he goes to kiss you again.
"Let's get these off first," you say, tugging at his waistband. That is all you needed to say. Billy had his trousers off so fast that you thought he very well may have just torn them from his body.
You slide your panties off as Billy crawls back toward you, his eyes like dinnerplates as he watches.
You pull the skirts of your dress up to your hips.
"C'mere" you reach out toward him.
He crawls back over to you, retaking his previous position between your thighs. There is noticeably less fabric separating you two as he lowers himself back on top of you.
The two of you begin to devour each other. He holds your cheek with one hand and your hip with the other. His body slightly shivering as he pushes himself up against your core, the fabric of his boxers, the only thing separating your flesh.
He whimpers as he presses up against you harder and harder, desperate for friction.
"Take them off," you whisper to him
He quickly shoves his boxers down his legs and yanks them off his feet, tossing them to the floor.
"I ummm.... I don't.....ummmm.... have anything with me, " he says nervously as he bites his lower lip.
"That's ok." You were too far gone to care at this point, and judging by his response, so was he.
He pushes himself into your heat slowly as he whimpers.
"Are you ok? Is this ok?" He grips your hip tightly as he continues pushing himself in slowly
" Perfect, sweet Billy," you coo. You were all too aware this was going to be a very quick affair but you wanted it anyway.
Billy bottoms out and doesn't move. He just hovers over you, holding his weight on his elbow, his other hand grasping your hip eyes closed with his bottom lip between his teeth.
You gently trace his jawline with your fingertips, making him shudder.
"I don't think...." he groans." I don't think I can move"
"Shhhh," you pull his face back down to yours and kiss him deeply and slowly. He starts to calm as he slowly starts to drag himself out of you before slowly pushing himself back in.
Just as you suspected, this was short-lived. Billy starts to move himself in and out of you a bit faster, pressing his entire body against yours as he whimpers into your ear.
"Thank you, oh gods, thank you." Just as you feel that band in your lower stomach tightening, Billy reaches his end with a loud groan. He collapses on top of you, his head on your chest, breathing heavily.
"Oh my. Im so sorry...... I didn't mean....oh boy"
You chuckle and kiss his forehead
"Let me show you one more thing," you say seductively. There is no way this man is leaving this room just yet.
He rolls off of you and looks at you quizzically.
You take his long slender hand and bring it to your bud and start to move it in circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure.
" j-j-just there," you moan out. You lean over and start to kiss him again. The kiss is sloppy and dirty. Billy slides his hands down to your slick folds and gathers some of the mixture of his seed and your wetness and brings it up to your bud, resuming the circular motion you had shown him.
"Ohhh God. Oh god!" Hot waves of pleasure shoot through your entire frame as your body cleches tight. Billy watches on in awe.
You lay back and chuckle.
"Like I said quick study" you say in between labored breaths.
"Too quick....." he says rolling back on top of you.
"Think I need a bit more studyin, ya know. Make sure I got it down"
You chuckle as he moves in for another kiss.
"Just call me the devil"
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