#i went in last night and they sent me home after an hour and a half. an hour and a half. of my scheduled 5 hours.
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Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fanfic)
(Chapter 1)
Chapter 2
Jude * female reader. No warnings.
……………………………………………
A few hours later that evening, when Jobe checked his phone, he found two notifications from his brother.
Two messages sent, 15 mins apart, but both deleted shortly after. He decided to ping him to check in.
Jobe: Hey wassup?
Jude: Hey. Just about to crash.
Jobe: Anything playing on your mind? Nervous about tomorrow?
Jude smiled at his screen before answering. The answer was yes, in more ways than one.
Jude: A bit, yes. Yet, I can’t wait for tomorrow to come. It’s strange but, y’know what I mean?
Jobe: It’s warranted I guess. First Classico of your life, that too at home. Would be intense. But exciting too.
Jude: Hmm.
Jobe: Should I ask Mom to call you? She would anyway call tomorrow morning, though.
Jude: Nah let it be. Let her take care of Aunt Tracie. I know she wanted to be with me here for this but that’s important too. I am anyway gonna crash soon.
Jobe: Good luck for tomorrow. Kill it.
Jude: Thanks mate, need the luck. Talk to you soon.
He put the phone down, dimmed the lights and pulled the blanket all the way over his head. After tossing and turning for 10 mins, he checked his Whatsapp again.
No message from her. But she was online. Her DP was super cute, he thought. A sun-kissed photo on a beach in a yellowish floral dress.
Jude: Reached safely?
He went with the only segue he could think of. 45 seconds later, blue tick.
Ananya had reached just a few mins ago. One hour’s work took over two coz she just couldn’t focus. And she actually ended up getting stuck in the rain, just as he had predicted.
Just then, his name flashed on the phone. Reminding her that she hadn’t hallucinated all this. Her roommate was blasting music loudly in her room, in the weekend spirit. If only she knew what happened, she would die. Roma was an Indian American, who had never really lived in India. She was her colleague at work and as big a Madridista as her. They had hit it off instantly during the internship last year.
Ananya: Hey, yes I am home. Thanks for checking in :)
Jude: Super :)
She tapped her thumb on the phone screen, thinking whether her next question would make her look silly. But she decided to ask anyway.
Ananya: Is there some of..dress code for players box? I see a lot of people dressed in suits and formals.
Jude: No no, those are the corporate / business guys mostly. You can wear whatever you want.
Ananya: So, I can wear my jersey?
That brought a big smile to his face.
Jude: Ofcourse, dove! In fact, I would insist you do that :)
Instead of asking which jersey, rather whose jersey she was gonna wear, he tried a different tactic.
Jude: I could get the latest season’s one sent to you before the match.
Ananya: Nice try. But I have a favourite one I am planning to wear. You can guess whose it’s gonna be.
Jude: Can I change your mind?
Ananya: From now to tomorrow evening, I highly doubt it.
Jude: Is that a challenge, dove?
Ananya: Don’t you have an important match to focus on tomorrow?
He sighed.
Jude: I do. Really should have crashed by now.
Ananya: Think about how dreamy tomorrow would be. Even the ride through the training ground to the stadium would be nuts - thousands of fans on the streets. We need you well rested and charged up, and I am speaking on behalf of all fans when I say this. Close your eyes and get your beauty sleep now.
He chuckled over how quickly she switched from her own self to a fan representative.
Jude: Are you working for Carlo on the side and not telling me?
Ananya: Maybe, who knows. Good night, Jude. Sleep well. You would be amazing tomorrow.
Jude: Thank you. And Ananya?
Ananya: Yes?
Jude: I can’t wait to see you in my box tomorrow, cheering for me. Good night, dove!
With that, he finally put his phone down, snoring softly in a few mins.
But she ended up staring at her phone for a good 15 mins. The last line. Him calling her dove. Dear lord, what even was happening? This made no sense. They had nothing in common. This was not logical at all. The surrealism of it made her pinch herself a few times. She looked back at his DP - hugging his mom during his signing, both with a big smile. It was so sweet. Everything about him was so sweet. So normal. How could it be?
She shook her head and went to her roommate to break the news. Roma didn’t believe her at once but when she saw the passes, and a few messages from him as she practically snatched the phone away from Ananya, she jumped around like a 5 year old girl on a sugar high.
Ananya just laughed at her friend’s antics. She kept her anxiety on the Jude situation aside for a moment, at Roma’s insistence, and the two just celebrated getting to watch a Classico tomorrow. And, to see Zidane up close. The joy of the moment took over the nerves and they both jumped on the bed, hugging each other. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Next evening, they reached well in advance, not wanting to take any chances with traffic or queues. The players box and the attached lounge were luxurious - the girls checked out the place thoroughly, sampling the appetisers and drinks. 30 mins later, when the girls went back to their seats, Ananya found a few unread messages popping on her phone. They were from him. She held the phone close to her chest, so others don’t see the name, and clicked on the messages.
Jude: Reached?
And then, a from few mins later.
Jude: Came out for warmup. Didn’t see you in the box. Stuck somewhere?
She quickly typed the response.
Ananya: We are here. Sorry, lost track of the time while checking out the place and trying to get Zizou in a selfie frame. Not so much a selfie but us trying to get an angle with him included, while he was having his croissant far away.
Blue tick. Immediately.
Jude: Haha, he’s a nice chap. You could just ask him for a selfie.
Ananya: Considering I ran away when he looked in my direction, don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.
Jude: (laughing emoji)
She was still feeling guilty for missing the warm-up, so she decided to send him two photos. The first was the half selfie with Zidane, and the second was her in the box with her three friends, with the field as the background.
There was silence for a bit. She thought he must be getting ready to come back on the field, so she started checking her insta and added the two photos. The fan groups she were a part of would go nuts at this, she already knew.
Two minutes later, his name flashed again.
Jude: Who’s that guy in the picture with you?
Ananya looked back at the picture in question. It was her, Roma and her two work colleagues. The girls had invited them too. They were all standing next to each other, hands casually around each others’ backs as they posed with big smiles. Jude must be referring to Arjun, she figured, as he was the one right next to her.
Ananya: He’s my colleague. Well, they both are. You had sent 5 passes so Roma and I asked them. Is that a problem?
She wondered if she had overstepped the invite somehow and bit her bottom lip as she nervously saw him type.
Jude: Is he with you?
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
Ananya: I mean, I just said all three of them came with me.
Jude huffed in frustration, staring at the photo again. He could tell it was meant to be a casual photo but the guy’s hand was too comfortable on her back and too close to her waist. Something about him immediately irked Jude. He just hated his guts.
Jude: But he’s not WITH you right?
It was her turn to get annoyed now.
Ananya: Jude, seriously? Right now?
She jumped when the phone rang. It was him ofcourse. Roma looked at her curiously and Ananya rushed back into the lounge to escape from prying eyes. She found a quieter corner and answered the phone.
‘Before you say anything, I have 30 seconds after which I have to rush into the tunnel. You have every right to be mad but can you pls answer my question now and I will make up for this behaviour later? I don’t wanna go to the field like this.’
The mix of earnestness and child-like hope in his tone somehow assuaged her annoyance.
‘Please?’
She sighed audibly on the line and he looked at his teammates who had already started exiting the dressing room.
‘No, he’s not WITH me like that.’
She could practically hear him smile at the other end.
‘Thank you. I knew it but just needed to hear from you. And like I said, I will make up for this. Gonna score for you, dove. And later tonight, gonna apologise when I see you.’
His teammates were calling him in the background now, everyone was in the tunnel. He got the last sentence in before he absolutely had to hang up.
‘After the match, meet me in Pavillion 2 Parking lot, Pillar 4. It’s only for the players, no media or fans would be there. It’s a private exit from the back so no one would see us together. Then we can have a quiet dinner. Come down when I ping you. Yes?’
Another long, audible sigh at the other end.
‘Ok.’
She could again hear the darned smile.
‘Won’t wish me luck?’
‘Good luck, Jude. Now go, please. The anthem has started playing.’
‘Keep your eyes on me. See you soon. Bye.’
With that, he hung up and rushed to join his team, and got some looks which he totally deserved. But that was a small price to pay.
Ananya ran back to the box, not wanting to miss the anthem. She was a fan, first and foremost, and this was a big match. Hala Madrid Y Nada Mas blared at full volume. The girls stood up and sang along, waving to the beautiful melody.
Just then, the team stepped out. Serious game faces on. Her eyes scanned the whole team, marvelling at seeing them all only for the second time. Finally, her eyes landed on Jude, who was standing at the end of the line. And Roma elbowed her in the ribs just then because guess what? He was looking up at the box.
When he spotted her, he gave a slight nod in her direction which only the two girls could decipher. But very quickly, the game face was back on. She could tell how focused he was for tonight.
It was a tough match, heavily competitive, like any Classico. Barca were marking Jude really well, given he had been the most destructive force of Madrid in the first few months. He was getting frustrated but kept at it.
The group soaked in the riveting atmosphere. And the girls fangirled over many notable people in the VIP box. Nadal was quite an animated viewer in person which they were amused to see.
But mostly, they sang along for every chant, every song that was reverberating in the stadium. And the view was just perfect, not like when she had watched from the stands last year.
She did find her eyes going to Jude many times. Gosh, he looked fit. And played marvellously. He really was a vision tonight.
And just like that, first half was over. The atmosphere was tense as Madrid was down 1-0. The coaching staff rallied the players back to the dressing room, to regroup and strategise for second half. They were definitely going to get an earful for the set piece defending. She couldn’t look away from Jude as he walked off - he looked disappointed, angry yet still determined. He walked with intent, already talking to the coaching staff on the way.
The crowd started discussing different nuances of the first half as the highlights played on the 360* screens.
She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick message.
Ananya: There is full second half to go. As they say, 90 mins at the Bernabeu is a long time.
There was a blue tick but no response. She figured he would be busy, as he should be at this time.
The second half began soon after. Both teams went at each other but Madrid was playing with more aggression now. More pressing, more tackles, more forward movement.
And 20 mins later, out of nowhere, from way outside the penalty box, Jude scored a long range screamer.
The crowd went berserk, as did the boxes. Nadal nearly stood on his chair and waved his coat. The girls hugged each other and screamed their lungs out. The whole squad and the coaching staff ran on the field and ambushed Jude.
Once they dispersed, he raised his arms to the fans, pulling out his trademark celebration. And the fans sang ‘Hey Jude’ with love.
As he was walking away, he did sneak in one look towards his box. Nothing too obvious for the cameras to catch, but she saw the slight nod again. He knew she could see him on the 360* cameras and would know it was meant for her.
Roma saw it too. And dug her nails into Ananya’s arm.
‘Girl, is this real or am I in a trance? Did he really just do that?’
‘Honestly, I am asking myself the same question.’
As it turns out, he wasn’t done scoring for the night. In the penultimate minutes, the man scored a winner from close range.
The noise in the stadium was deafening. Some fans pulled their shirts off while others cried with joy. The two girls jumped from their seats and kept jumping for a good minute.
The celebration from the team was worthy of a Classico winner. Jude and Vazquez did some mental dance and then Rudiger tackled them all to the ground. Later, Valverde jumped on Jude who caught & held him with just one arm.
‘Pretty boy is strong too, huh?’
Roma whispered in Ananya’s ear, making her flustered. She nearly wanted to retort saying if Roma was just realising that and not during the match when he outmuscled all midfielders in duels.
Before she could say anything though, he did that sign with both hands, looking towards his thighs. The crowd roared back at him.
Ananya found herself paralysed in her seat as Roma elbowed her violently.
‘Maybe he’s giving you a message’
Ananya buried her head in her hands as Roma continued to tease her endlessly. Even with her fluster, she couldn’t help notice how the arrogant confidence suited him perfectly on the pitch.
Soon after, the final whistle came and the fans roared again along with the anthem. The team took a lap around the stadium, thanking the fans for their support. As they were walking off, Jude looked up at the box and his gaze lingered for a few seconds.
He looked away just at the right time, before the cameras caught his gaze. Ananya sighed inwardly - she had been worried about this all evening but thankfully it didn’t look like anyone had caught a whiff.
The rest of the group went to the lounge to grab a bite before leaving. She stayed back in the box and took in the atmosphere some more.
When Jude managed to check his phone 10 mins later, it was buzzing with messages. He checked the ones in his family group first and pinged them that he would call soon. Their happiness and support was the biggest reason why he did what he did.
Then, he looked for another name, and giggled with joy to see an unread message.
Ananya: Congrats. That was a special performance. You guys made the fans very happy, especially you. Savour the accolades, you deserve them.
He smiled from ear to ear, re-reading the message a few times.
Ananya was in the washroom when her phone buzzed again.
Jude: Did I make YOU happy?
Ananya: Very much so :)
Jude: Am I forgiven for earlier, then?
Ananya: Mostly, but not fully.
Jude: Ooh tough crowd :)
He sneaked into the shower to quickly call her from there, as the dressing room had erupted with champagne and food fights and all kind of hip hop jazz performances.
She picked up instantly.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey, sorry for the background. The lads are losing it. I am gonna need 20 mins more to take a quick shower and meet you downstairs but given the mood outside, might become 30. But I definitely will make it down in 30. Would that be ok?’
‘Yes ofcourse. And hey, don’t cut down the celebrations. These are the moments to cherish. In fact, if you just wanna hang with the team..’
He didn’t let her finish.
‘Are you mad? I have earned, EARNED this dinner with my blood, sweat and tears. No way I am giving that up. Nu-uh.’
She giggled at his theatrics and he giggled back at her.
‘Ok. Gotta go now. The sooner I wrap up here the sooner I see you. Sending you the car number. Will ping you 5 mins in advance. The parking lot is a bit secluded but it’s meant to be that way. It’s perfectly safe so don’t worry when you walk down there. I will anyway pick you up in 30 seconds of you being there. Ok? See you soon.’
‘Cool, see you.’
‘Bye, dove.’
‘Bye, Jude.’
He hung up and rejoined the mad dances that Vini and Cama were leading, still keeping track of time.
While Ananya grabbed on to the washroom counter, looked into the mirror and stared at her own reflection.
It was really happening. In 30 mins, she was going to get into his car, go to his house, and have dinner with him alone for a few hours.
…………………………….
There you go, this was the second chapter. Tons more to come in this story, feedback / comments are very welcome. Would love to hear your thoughts 😊
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The New Yorker Interview
Jonathan Groff Rolls Merrily Back
The actor reflects on his journey in reverse: from his latest Tony nomination to his arrival in New York, waiting tables and dreaming of Broadway.
By Michael Schulman, Photograph by Thea Traff
June 2, 2024
Excerpts:
One of the problems with “Merrily” is its protagonist, Franklin Shepard, whom we first meet as a slick, philandering forty-year-old Hollywood producer. It takes two acts to arrive at the charismatic musician he once was, with a lot of mistakes in between. Putting effect before cause gives each scene a painful irony—but how do you get an audience to care about a guy who’s off-putting for so long? “Merrily” is back on Broadway, in a production directed by Maria Friedman, and it’s finally a hit. One big reason is its Frank, played by Jonathan Groff, whose natural warmth shines through even in the character’s older, sleazier incarnation. When this revival opened Off Broadway, in 2022, The New Yorker’s Helen Shaw wrote, “Groff’s silky tenor and angelic face elevate a part that can sometimes be contemptible—for the first time, I could see Frank as both the dreamer who believes in greatness and the glib charmer who believes every lie he tells.”
Groff, thirty-nine, is now nominated for a Tony Award, alongside Friedman and his co-stars Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendez. He was previously nominated in 2016, for “Hamilton,” in the scene-stealing part of King George III, and in 2007, for the indie-rock musical “Spring Awakening,” as the rebellious schoolboy Melchior Gabor—his breakout role, opposite Lea Michele. Groff had come to New York three years earlier, as a stagestruck, closeted nineteen-year-old from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where he grew up among Mennonites and was obsessed with the original cast recording of “Annie Get Your Gun.” “Merrily,” with its themes of aging, idealism, and the vicissitudes of show business, has had Groff thinking about his own path toward stardom. “Doing this show on Broadway at this time, moving to New York twenty years ago, I’ve now lived the time frame of the show,” he told me recently.
We were talking at a bakery north of Washington Square Park. Groff had glided in on a bicycle. As we spoke, he frequently welled up with tears—he’s a crier—but regained his composure by focussing on a pair of googly eyes affixed to the wall behind me. For our conversation, which has been edited and condensed, I had an experiment in mind.
Let’s start with the extremely recent past. Three days ago, you went to the Met Gala. How was your night?
The big headline for me was Lea Michele was pregnant, and I sat next to her at the table, holding her giant train thing while she peed. She took it off, and I was holding that and her purse. I saw Zac Posen, who was at our table, help Kim Kardashian up the little tiny stairs, and I said to him, “Wow, that was such a sweet moment of the gay helping the diva.” I was relating to him, like with me and Lea. It’s a zoo of famous people. I was going to go to the after-parties, but my body was just, like, “No.” I hit a wall from the shows and the epicness of the week, with the Tony nominations. So I was home by eleven-forty-five, and in bed by midnight.
The Broadway production of “Merrily” opened last fall. You told Jimmy Fallon that Meryl Streep came to your dressing room, where you have a bar named BARbra, and she took a video of you and sent it to Barbra Streisand. Who else has been there?
The first thing that comes to me is sitting in BARbra in October or November, drinking whiskey with Sutton Foster. I came to New York as a teen-ager and saw her six times in “Thoroughly Modern Millie”—now she’s in BARbra, dropping in for, like, an hour and a half after the show, and it’s so full circle. Who else? Patti LuPone was there—another big one for me. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Martin McDonagh. Glenn Close sent back a bottle of champagne to be chilled in BARbra, which we drank together.
This show, like every Sondheim show, is very dense. Over the course of three hundred-plus performances, are there certain moments that have suddenly hit you a different way, or that you realize have a double meaning?
Double, triple, quadruple, infinity. I’m still having revelations, which really makes me believe that it’s a true work of art. Maria [Friedman] talks about how, with Sondheim’s writing, he “leaves space,” which is why it’s always new. He always needed to work with a collaborator, and she talked about the actor being an essential collaborator. She said the lyric he wrote in “Sunday in the Park with George”—“Anything you do, / let it come from you, / then it will be new”—is Sondheim’s directive to the actor.
The Tuesday after the Tony nominations, I got to the theatre, screamed with Lindsay [Mendez], screamed with Dan [Radcliffe]. [He chokes up.] Then I was singing “Growing Up”—“So old friends, don’t you see we can have it all?”—which has meant so many different things to me in the run of the show. At yesterday’s matinée, Dan and I were sitting on the roof singing “Our Time”: “Up to us, pal, to show ’em.” We’ve done it a million times. We look at each other, and Dan just fucking loses it crying. He had to look away from me. We talked about it afterward, like, “What the fuck was that?” I don’t know. Something just happened.
When you started the show, in 2022, at New York Theatre Workshop, were there kinks in your performance that you’ve since figured out?
I remember feeling shocked at being disliked for so long in the first half of the first act. It was very clear from the energy of the audience that they loved Mary in the opening scene—immediately, they’re on her side. I’m out here as a gay guy, playing this straight, two-timing Hollywood producer who’s cheating on his wife. I’m already having to feel confident in a way that I don’t in my everyday life, this sort of swagger. And the audience hates me. I remember feeling scared and self-conscious. Maria, in that preview process, really helped with that, because she talked about the value of when it’s real, and you’re not playing ugly just to be ugly. The one line that I really struggled with was “I’m just acting like it all matters so people can’t see how much I hate my life and how much I wish the whole goddam thing was over.” That is a really confronting thing to say.
People might say that this is one of the fundamental flaws of “Merrily We Roll Along”—that you’re confronted with this cynical, smarmy Frank in the first act, and you don’t really understand him until the show’s over. I can imagine going into this not knowing if that’s a solvable problem, because it hadn’t been for decades.
Well, Maria wanted us to find the truth. She really believed that these characters weren’t archetypes, that there’s humanity in the writing from beginning to end. I found it after that first week or two of previews, not being so afraid. The line that made me want to do the show was “I’ve made only one mistake in my life, but I’ve made it over and over and over. That was saying yes when I meant no.” I’ve done that a lot in my life, and there was something that felt like the closeted version of myself. George Furth and Stephen Sondheim—I can only imagine being gay at the time that they were gay. Even though Frank is straight, there’s so much repression that feels very familiar to me.
Except that you felt it at the beginning of your life and not the middle, as Frank does.
Yes and no. I still feel it. I’m still trying every day not to go back. I’m obviously out of the closet, so that’s a huge relief, but I’m always going to be reckoning with the Republican upbringing that I had. I’m always negotiating whatever homophobia I’ve got. It’s all in there, still. What we see as ugliness in the top of the show, to stand and say, “I want to fucking kill myself, I hate my life,” and not overdramatize it but try to find it in the most pure, truthful place—it’s still, every night, a meditation to go there.
Let’s wind back. In 2021, you played Agent Smith in “The Matrix Resurrections.” Any good stories about Keanu Reeves?
Getting to play Agent Smith really unlocked rage inside of me that I didn’t know was there. That’s helped me so much with “Merrily,” particularly in the first act. Learning the kung fu was, like, months of fight training. They called me the Savage, because I was so into it. We were shooting a big fight sequence with Keanu, and, after the first few takes, I remember Lana [Wachowski] at the monitor, like, “Jonathan, come over here. Who is that?” I was, like, “I don’t know.” And she was, like, “And what is that?” I said, “Gay rage?”
I’d never shot a gun before. I shot Keanu and thought I had peed my pants, because I had this hot feeling. You know when you pee yourself and it’s warm? It lasted about ten minutes and then it went away. I sat next to Keanu and said, “Keanu, I just had extreme heat from my groin for, like, ten minutes.” And he was, like, “You opened up your root chakra.”
You turned thirty that year [Hamilton]? How was that?
I remember it vividly. We were at the Public Theatre. There was a fire in the East Village, and the show was cancelled that night. I got a cupcake at the deli around the corner from my apartment, on Sixteenth Street, and ate it by myself. I can be a bit of a loner, so that was a happy birthday for me.
(On Looking being cancelled)
But, in 2015, Michael Lombardo was our executive at HBO, and I was crying into my salad at some restaurant in West Hollywood, trying to convince him to keep the show going, right before getting on the plane to come do “Hamilton” Off Broadway.
I loved Raúl Castillo, who played your love interest Richie on the show. I interviewed him around then, and he told me that, since he’s straight, you all had to teach him some of the mechanics of what gay people do.
Oh, yeah! God, I love him so much. I officiated his wedding in July.
Let’s go back to 2013, when “Frozen” came out. You voiced the iceman Kristoff and the reindeer Sven. How did that film change your life?
It’s funny—I remember recording some of “Frozen” in San Francisco. I would be teaching Raúl, like, how to lick my asshole while jerking me off—not teaching him, but sharing the ins and outs of gay intimacy—and then going into the recording studio on a Saturday and being Kristoff and Sven in a Disney movie.
When they showed me “Let It Go” for the first time, I was, like, Oh, my God, this will help millions of people come out of the closet. This is the gayest thing I’ve seen in my life! That was the thing about “Frozen”: I don’t think anyone who worked on it thought it was going to be a juggernaut. It’s so weird to think of this now, but when it came out it felt quite alternative, because there was no villain, really, and the love was between two women. Now there are, like, tissues with Elsa on it.
Now we’re moving backward to “Spring Awakening.” By the time it moved to Broadway, in 2006, you were the twenty-one-year-old lead of the coolest musical in town. What was your actual life like?
I was so not cool. The show was cool, and the music was cool. I had people dropping me off joints at the theatre. And I remember fully understanding the stark difference between who I was playing onstage and who I was in real life, which was an extreme theatre nerd who wanted to be in the ensemble of “Thoroughly Modern Millie” and never would have imagined playing Melchior. It’s his gravitas. And trying to tap into that side of myself, which was a side I’d never experienced before.
Tell me about your audition.
I went to the open call and knew who Michael Mayer was, because he had directed “Thoroughly Modern Millie.” But it was “Spring Awakening” and I was, like, There’s a beating scene? This is so intense! They called me in for Melchior, then had me sing “Hey Jude” in a falsetto, and Michael was, like, “That was your falsetto?” And I laughed at him sort of making fun of me. Tom Hulce, who was our producer, told me years later that he moved my head shot from the “No” pile into the “Yes” pile because I had laughed at Michael in the audition, and he thought, This kid has the ability to let Michael roll off his back. We should bring him back in the next month or two.
It was, like, ten people up for Melchior. They brought me in first, because they thought they would just see me and cut me. But I had worked so hard on the audition material. I remember calling my dad the night before the final callback and saying to him, “I know I can’t be this character all the way yet, but I—”[He tears up again.] I really got to get my shit together! Why does this keep happening to me?
Because we’ve gone on an emotional journey.
I guess so, in reverse! Fuck me. [Pauses.] I knew that I had it inside, if they would just give me the chance. That’s all I was trying to say, but I guess I can’t stop crying while I’m saying it.
In 2005, you made your Broadway début, as an understudy in “In My Life.” Now, this was the weirdest musical I’ve ever seen. As I recall, there were dancing skeletons in a song about how everyone has a skeleton in their closet, a giant lemon that came from the sky at the end, and a girl on a scooter who turns out to be a ghost. And it was written by the guy who wrote “You Light Up My Life,” who then came to a dark end.
And his son!
Yes, his son killed his girlfriend. What the hell was going on with that show? Did you ever go on?
I went on for the ensemble members. I was so excited! I was in my first Broadway show, at the Music Box Theatre, walking in where it says “Stage Door.” And you couldn’t give away tickets to see the show. People were coming to laugh at the show from the audience.
Like “Springtime for Hitler”?
Exactly. And the cast had to do the show, even though people were laughing at them, which is devastating for the actors. But we formed a little family. It’s the plight of the actor. You’re just out there, like Sally Bowles in “Cabaret.” I was twenty years old, so I was lit.
Had you been waiting tables?
Yeah. The whole year before that, I was at the Chelsea Grill, in Hell’s Kitchen. The day I got to New York—October 21, 2004—I moved to Fifty-first Street and Ninth Avenue, before it was super gay, and I walked down Ninth and got a job waiting tables. A week later, I waited on Tom Viola, who runs the charity Broadway Cares, and became a bucket collector. I’d watch the second act of shows and then collect the money at the end. I went to hundreds of auditions, trying to get my Equity card. That, to me, was “Opening Doors,” from “Merrily”—that moment of sheer will and ambition and ignorance.
We’ve now reached our finale, which is 2004. Can you tell me about the decision to move to New York?
My mom was a gym teacher and my dad is a horse trainer, and they didn’t really understand anything about the performing world. But my dad grew up on a dairy farm, and he was supposed to take over and become a Mennonite preacher, which is what my grandfather was. My dad didn’t like cows—he liked horse racing, so he sort of rebelled and did his own thing. My mom always says that nurse, secretary, or teacher were the options for women in a small town at that time, but her passion was sports, so she ended up being a coach.
So they understood the power of fanning the flame of passion. When I was a kid and into acting, they drove me to play practice. They drove me to community theatre. My senior year of high school, my mom drove me to New York to audition for this bus-and-truck tour of “The Sound of Music.” I got that tour, and deferred my admission to Carnegie Mellon. I made ten thousand dollars after a year on the road, and I learned so much from getting to act every day. I wanted to take my ten thousand and move to New York, and my parents were super supportive: “If you feel like you need to go to college, you can always go to college. But take a gamble and move to the city.” I’d worked at this theatre in Lancaster called the Fulton Opera House, where I’d met this girl who wanted to move to New York, so she became my roommate.
To me, “Merrily We Roll Along” is about how difficult it is to stay in touch with the person you were as adulthood knocks you sideways and forward. When you think about nineteen-year-old Jonathan coming to New York, do you feel like you’re the same person? What’s changed?
[He bursts into tears.] I can’t tell why I cry! When we were about to start rehearsal for “Merrily,” I would listen to “Our Time,” and I couldn’t sing it without crying. And, when I think about that version of myself—I think it’s because that person who brings you here does diminish. Maybe it’s the grief for that person. The whole reason that I’m here now is because of that person, but that person no longer exists.
But that person is still in there, somewhere. That voice is so quiet now, but it’s still driving my choices. You have to make choices. You get older, that pure inspiration dies, but it doesn’t have to go all the way away. I think that’s the whole point of the show, why it goes backward. Maria says that Sondheim put all of his regret into it, so that we could have less regret for ourselves. And perhaps the reason it ends with these people, with these versions of ourselves that we remember when we see it, is that it’s an invitation to remember and honor that person.
Why does that make me cry? Is it grief? Is it joy? I don’t know, but I’m so grateful for that purity and that optimism. The first month that I was here, feeling so lost and confused, I pulled the Bible that my Mennonite grandmother gave me off the bookshelf. She gave me that Bible before I left town. I was alone in the apartment thinking, What the fuck am I doing in New York? Or not even “what the fuck”—I didn’t swear until “Spring Awakening,” and when I would sing “Totally Fucked” I would get beet red. And I remember putting the Bible down and thinking, This is not the answer. This is not making me feel good. And then running to Central Park and standing in front of the Bethesda Fountain. I was nineteen, and I was, like, This feels better—but, like, What? Who am I? What am I doing here? I know I want to act, but I’m so scared. And gay. But it was something—some voice, some passion, some inspiration. Some something brought me here.
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Me, yesterday, 5:30 PM: wow I’m honestly doing so great at my adult tasks; I’ve gotten some homework done, I went grocery shopping, my laundry is almost dry. I spent so many spoons and I barely feel tired! Maybe I’m finally fully recovering from burnout!
Me, yesterday, 6:00 PM: oh.
#turns out that I was not drawing from an unlimited spoon supply when I spent spoons so fast#and instead was overdrawing#because at 5:59 I thought ‘oh you know I’m a bit tired I should lay down’#and then spent almost six hours in Nap Hell as I laid down too tired to get up and take my sleep meds#but also not really sleeping consistently. like dozing except I didn’t want to.#woke up ~11:50 and apparently sent some very misspelled messages to my friends#took sleep meds. and then passed out until morning.#so… I’ve learned something here. such as ‘even if you feel fine. you know you’re spending too many spoons. slow down.’#I’m gonna try to go to bed early tonight too#and just. rest. bc I know Thursday is going to be a lot for me bc of my ASL class.#just gotta get these labs done first#the exhaustion is partially also my fault bc instead of going to bed after getting home from the airport#I did in fact go straight to DND and played until midnight because DND is Monday nights now.#but in my defense. I had napped on the plane. so I didn’t feel v tired.#but yeah I shouldn’t have done that bc that meant I was operating on a Significant Sleep Deficit yesterday and still had a lot of tasks#that absolutely could not wait. I needed food bc I didn’t have any in the house and needed laundry bc all my wearable clothes were dirty.#and I’d been in class since 9:30AM and went straight to the store from my last class and then straight to laundry after putting away grifos#and STILL FORGOT TO GET GAS#it’s fine I’ll get some today after chemistry or smth on the way home
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wallowing in self pity as an after work activity.
#I also watched tv and almost fell asleep#I woke up with a bad stomachache last night which kept me awake for a little over an hour before it got better#so I didn’t sleep enough and went to work#and then received a text that my boyfriend wouldn’t be home tonight cause he’s meeting from friends#and of course I’m not invited because one of his friends is my ex I keep shit taking about (rightfully I might add)#saw him for like one minute after his work before he left again#I’m really fucking sad rn still because as I told some friends#one of my Guinea pigs died just yesterday#and I’m tired and#I’m hungry#and yes my boyfriend offered to bring me food but I don’t even know when he will be back and he’s probably going to bring cake which isn’t#real dinner food anyway#my stuff#give it half an hour and I’ll be better I hope#maybe she least good enough to make myself something to eat#at least my cat his here he always comes when I’m crying#edit: I think the part about tonight that hurts the most is being invited but not being invited#one of the boys sent a message to the group chat if anyone wanted to join#and idk if all of them know#but my bf knows I won’t go anywhere near my ex#even though I haven’t seen one of the other friends there in a awhile and wouldn’t loved to see him#so it’s like#being invited#but not really#cause I can’t go there#I’d feel sick#I already do feel sick knowing he talks to this despicable piece of shit
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DELICATE
pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#yandere coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#hunger games x reader#the hunger games
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The lower rung of the ladder in my kitchen broke last month and I stuck a little Post-it note on the wall to remind myself to step over the missing rung so I wouldn't break my leg every time I go up or downstairs—but then my mum came to visit and she saw me hopping over the gap in the ladder with practised ease and her face was the definition of "you live like this?" And she went to get a screwdriver to unscrew the ladder from the wall so we could carry it outside and repair it.
Some people see a broken ladder and immediately open a toolbox to fix the problem; some people see a broken ladder and stick a Post-it note to the wall to train themselves to step over the problem forever. (I admit my response is inferior.)
I think I felt daunted at the thought of tinkering with this ladder because it's been here in the same place for over a century and I pictured the whole thing crumbling into dust if we tried to move it—but no, it's still solid, except the lower rung. Which wasn't damaged by time, but by Pandolf. (And some insects. But mostly Pandolf.)
When he was a baby, for a week or so after I took him home, he was extremely upset about having to spend the night in his dog bed in the kitchen while I went upstairs to my bedroom, he would cry and cry and one night in a fit of despair and rage he attacked the ladder. The next morning I found the lower rung (the only one he could reach) looking like it had been attacked by a termite colony, but it was Pandolf's pointy little puppy teeth. By the look of it he'd spent half the night furiously gnawing on it until he dropped from exhaustion—his reasoning was clearly that if he destroyed the ladder, I wouldn't be able to go upstairs anymore and would be forced to spend the night on the floor of the kitchen with him.
It's really hard to be mad at baby Pandolf, though. Go on, try.
Eventually he got used to sleeping in his dog bed and he abandoned his ladder destruction project, but the lower rung has been fragile ever since, and it finally broke last month.
My mum is extremely efficient; she sent me to the barn to find some kind of thick board (you can find anything in the barn if you have a torch and aren't afraid of bats or century-old spiderwebs) and when I came back she had prepared all the tools and taken all the measurements.
The worst part was tapering the sides so the rung would fit in the notches, because if one side was a little bit thinner than the other then it was wobbly—
—plus I used a file at first and it took forever (Pandolf was so bored), but then I remembered I own a sanding machine and it went a lot faster. So much so that my mum said I should make a second rung while I was at it—she was motivated to replace all of them, but then it started raining and we decided the rest of the ladder is solid enough and we'll replace the rungs two at a time.
I always forget that it feels satisfying to fix things! There's this little spark of pride from then on when you look at the repaired thing because you helped make it. I tend to procrastinate because I assume it'll take ages or I'm worried I'll do it wrong, until someone who's more confident with their hands than me goes like "no come on, we just need a saw, a file, a hammer, it'll take an hour tops" and we do it and it's never as difficult as I feared. (My mum: "We gave you a toy toolbox when you were little, to smash sexist stereotypes, and you're afraid of fixing things :( ...") (I cheered her up by reminding her that my brother smashes sexist stereotypes by being also afraid of fixing things.)
But yeah I spent half an hour sanding down the sides of these two lower rungs and now I look at my ladder and remember the delightful feeling of getting the tapering just right and inserting them into their slots effortlessly like a VHS tape into a VCR. I have a whole new affection for my kitchen ladder now.
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is this thing on? 🎤
nsfw, mdni
morning sex with els
saturday. the only day of the week ellie and you were promised a task-free 24 hours in jackson, that was slowly getting covered in the soft, orange rays of the early morning sun. today was the first day of spring, finally leaving the cold, winter days behind.
you woke up to a face nuzzling itself in the crook your neck, softly placing kisses on your pulse point. ellie got home much later than anticipated yesterday from her last patrol of the week, meaning you went to bed without her. you usually couldn't fall asleep without knowing she got home safe, but a long day of working in the stables knocked you out in your shared bed at 9pm.
you felt a warm, calloused hands rubbing up and down your side, running along the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up a little from tossing and turning around all night. ellie's love language was physical touch and you were more than happy to feed into that.
her hand slowly started exploring other parts of your upper body, tickling tiny circles on your stomach, massaging your hips, until she ventured more upwards and reached your nipples. "els, what are you- ahh", a particularly good swirl of her finger around your sensitive nipple made you let out a whimper, which she chuckled at.
"shhh, s'okay. gonna make you feel good, yeah?", you could do nothing but nod when you felt her slender fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple like that.
she slid her hand down you body excruciatingly slow, which she knew would get a reaction of you. "els, pl- please. stop teasing."
"begging for me already babygirl? you're so cute, just relax f'me yeah? i know my pretty girl can do that."
the teasing felt like it was never gonna end. your neck, nipples, stomach, thighs, not a single part of your body remained untouched. bar where you wanted her the most. ellie flipped you both over so she was hovering over you, her auburn locks framing her face perfectly when she leant in for a tender kiss filled with a soft love that you could revel in forever.
finally she gave in to your whines and moved down your body, settling in between your spread thighs, hovering over your slit. you squirmed when she blew cold air onto your clit but your complaints quickly got stuck in your throat when she latched her mouth onto your heat.
"ahh, fu- fuck ellie, that feels s- so good", she hummed against your clit in appreciation which sent another shockwave of pleasure through your body. her endless teasing had left you incredibly sensitive, which led to her having to hold your squirming hips down with her left arm to make sure you couldn't pull away from her flattened tongue, licking stripe after stripe from your clenching hole up until your puffy clit.
"gonna use my fingers angel, think you can take that f'me?". you nodded eagerly, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation of the added stimulation of her long, slender fingers that filled you up so well.
"open your eyes f'me baby, want you to see how well i'm filling that clenching hole up.", you opened your eyes and hoisted yourself up so that you could lean on your elbows, positioned perfectly to witness ellie's finger disappear into your soaking cunt, causing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips.
"fuuuck baby, you're making such pretty sounds for me, being such a good girl. taking it so well angel, so proud of you."
her praise combined with ellie pushing a second finger into your cunt made you see stars. she was thrusting into you so tenderly but so good, it made you go slack-jawed. the only sounds in the room were your high-pitched moans and the filthy, wet, squelching sounds of her fingers thrusting in and out of your hole and mouth devouring your cunt like it was her last meal. you were sure that anyone in the jackson perimeter could hear how good you were being fucked right now.
but you couldn't care less. not when ellie was making you feel so good. so good that you were so close to tumbling over the edge, but you just couldn't quite get there. your girlfriend picked up on it rather quickly, and acted on it. she came back up and hovered over you, burying her face in your neck while still slamming her fingers over and over again in your hole.
she kissed and nibbled on your pulse point before bringing her face up to your ear and whispering, "come on baby, 's okay. let it out f'me, i know you want to. been so good for ellie this morning, so proud of you mama. let it out."
"f- fuck ellie, i'm gonna- i'm gonna cum- mhmmm fuck baby i lo- i love you s- so much." with a final, harsh thrust of her fingers you finally reached your climax. your jaw fell and your eyes rolled back, unable to cope with the pleasure. you tried to shut your thighs but ellie made sure to keep them open with her spare hand, wanting to guide you through your orgasm. she kept moving her fingers inside of you, slowing down with each thrust, making sure she wasn't overstimulating you.
you let out a whimper when ellie pulled her fingers out of your cunt which she chuckled lightly at. she brought her hand up to her mouth and sucked on her cum-coated fingers. "mmhhm, you taste so good baby. never gonna get tired of it."
you looked up at her through half-closed eyes, still trying to catch your breath and control your heart rate after the mind-blowing pleasure she just put onto you. she kissed every part of your body before getting up and disappearing in your shared bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a warm cloth to clean you up.
"you made such a mess f'me baby, really ruined these sheets huh? gonna have me washing these again? what's that now, the third time this week?"
you knew she was only teasing you but you couldn't hide the blush creeping on your cheeks, quickly growing self-conscious about how you always seemed to leak a very substantial amount of arousal whenever you came around ellie's fingers.
she quickly discarded the cloth that she just cleaned you up with and you squealed when she easily picked you up in bridal style and took you out of your shared bedroom.
"since i can't be bothered cleaning these sheets now, i guess we're gonna have to go for round 2 on the couch, huh?"
oh you were in for a long morning.
#not proofread as usual#is this thing on?#torlex speaking 🌿#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fluff
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reader not feeling safe at night alone outside and calling Chris and js wants to talk to him for comfort and he gets all protective and wants to come pick her up but she says no and he keeps worrying and reader just thinks it's super cute and tells him and idk anymore
12 am - c.s
a/n: let’s thank spotify premium for getting me through this and the next few fics 😔🙏
the air was oddly cold as you walked the quiet streets back to your apartment after working a little later that you usually do.
normally, you wouldn’t have worked an extra shift due to how irritating your job was, but the extra money meant a lot to you at the moment, especially because your car was currently in the shop.
the neighborhood you lived in wasn’t too dangerous, but the silence and random dark corners you’d find yourself looking at sent chills down your spine.
taking out your phone, your hands subconsciously pulled up a very familiar contact and called before you could stop yourself.
less than four rings later, a soft,
“hello?” filled your ears.
“chris.” you winced to yourself, a little annoyed by the enthusiasm that you had.
“hey, what’s going on?” you weren’t given the chance to respond before he cut in again, “you okay?”
“yeah, no, i’m fine.” you brushed off his concern, “i just didn’t feel comfortable walking home in silence.”
a beat went by.
“walking home? you’re taking late night walks at twelve am? what the hell are you talking about? you should’ve been home three hours ago.”
“it’s not a purposeful late night walk, when’s the last time i did that without you?” at your question, chris get his cheeks heat up. it was true. anytime you thought about going out late, chris was immediately by your side, “i stayed a few hours later to help you.”
“yn, it’s twelve am and you’re walking home. i get that your cars in the shop but if you were gonna stay late you should’ve told me. i would’ve made matt pick you up.”
your shoulders fell.
you knew he wasn’t mad at you, but more so upset that you risked putting yourself in danger for the sake of not forcing matt out of his comfortable position in bed.
“i didn’t wanna be a bother.”
you could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone before he scoffed, “you’re never a bother, you know that. even when i want you to be.”
knowing he’d be embarrassed if you pointed it out, you didn’t respond to the last part, instead trying to reassure him,
“i’m almost home—”
“too late. we’re picking you up.”
you heard the car door shut and the engine start.
“chris—”
“you know what? you have to pass our house to get to yours, right? you can just spend the night.”
“i promise you, i’m fine.”
“i don’t care.”
you could practically see the shrug he gave just as headlights of car filled your vision.
chris hung up as soon as he spotted you looking at the car with a look of faux annoyance.
he wasted no time in hopping out the vehicle and trudging over to you.
“i just wanted to hear your voice while i walked home.”
“you can’t call me at twelve in the morning while you’re walking home by yourself and expect me to just give you words of encouragement for your journey.”
knowing he was right, but refusing to admit it, your cross you arms over your chest, “it’s twelve thirty.”
“that’s not helping your case.” he snorted, watching a smile make its way onto your face.
he pressed a hand to the small of your back, the feeling sending a rush of warmth throughout your body, “get in the car. we can watch movies and cuddle.”
the giddy look on his face made you selfishly happy for calling him at twelve am.
taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo @mxqdii
#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine
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Yeah, she’s my mom.
Sally Jackson x wife reader x son!percy.
-£ Is this apart of the lore? No. Do I care? Not at all. So forget Gade and have Sally have a good partner. Let Percy have a good step parent. And, because I want her to be my wife.
-£ Warnings: Show and book spoilers, short, “Death”, Demigod luck, everything that happens in the show and the first book but with the reader, my idea of comfort, kinda angst but I’m trying to make this fluffy. Saying this again. Spoilers for the events that will hopefully be in the next two episodes
there was no doubt in his mind that you were meant to be his mom.
when his mother found you he remembered the glow she started to had. you made her so happy and even he could see that at a young age. but the way you cared for him to without a question, letting him cook with you at times and always poke his face with flour. or the time you sat with him when his mom was sick and played with him for hours and you didn’t even bat a eye.
there was always a lovely smell in the air that even he could smell sometimes when he was at school. it was sweet and smelled like every baked good in the world in one place. it brought him comfort. your scent was strong enough to lead monsters away, he didn’t smell like a demigod. the way his mother looked at you, the way you held her and helped out, made him realize that true love existed. and you were meant to be in their lives. to be his mother.
he could remember the first time he actually met you.
“hello there,” you bend down so low to his height, or close to it. the warm smile made him feel welcome, “your mommy says you are special? That’s great, I seem to need a helper in the back. you think you can help?”
he looked up at his mom as he clings to her hand, asking for permission. she gave him a slight nod. he let go and gave you the same look and took your hand. “thanks for letting me borrow your little hero.”
that was the first time and for the rest of the day he didn’t realize his mom was away. the time with you was so special but he quickly needed a nap and he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie. you were the best babysitter. so every time his mother had somewhere to go he would find himself at your house.
soon after, you moved in with them! It was great since he got to see you all the time now. Then he got enrolled into school and he saw less of you but couldn’t help but count down the second he could see his mom and you.
sally, she was the best lover in the whole world. she was so loving to you. making your heart swell with warmth when you were near her. she had some fire in her and you loved that about her, unless you were on the end of that. there was no life without her.
so you two got married.
years after being sent to school after school, Sally could see how worried you became. and it pained her to never tell you the truth of who Percy was, who his father was, and much more. you constantly looked for schools to fit him and offered to get a extra job just to send him there. but each time she refused because they would be to far away.
but when percy came home. after she got a call from grover. “Dear, I think me and percy need some time to..” she glanced at him as he looked at her confused, “have some time alone.” That’s not how it ever went done. you all did things together.
“Of course.” you just smiled as you always did. understanding. you reached for him and ruffled his hair. “Be good for your mother, got it?” He huffed to fake being annoyed and agreed. he was sad you couldn’t come
if only he knew that would be the last time he saw you for a long time.
the trip to the beach cabin was smooth. him and his mom being normal as always and reconnecting their memories. until the night went south when he started to share his doubts with his mom. that he was broken. he was convinced that everything about him wasn’t normal. it didn’t help when his mom told him the truth of who his father was, and what that made him.
everything was so confusing, Grover turning out to be a goat. Them being chased by a minotaur with underpants, going to a “camp” for half-bloods like him? Yeah, he was probably going crazy.
“Mom!” Percy yelled as he watched his mom reach out to him one last time until she turned to dust in the monster hands. every part of his body boiling with anger that she was taken away. he saw you. how you had just lost your wife too but you had no clue, sitting at home all alone while everything went down.
you didn’t know. that sally was dead, that percy was safe, where he was or his mom. how scared you must be feeling right now. and it took all his willpower to stop himself from buying tickets back home and see you while he was supposed to be looking for the lighting bolt.
when he saw the video of you crying on tv he started to tear up. you defended him from all the accusations that he was involved. saying there was no way your sweet boy would ever hurt his mother.
“If you’re seeing this, come home.”
he almost died so many times. but he had to save his mom, he had to get himself and her back to you.
hades was touched by percy’s actions and  released his mother after everything went down. his mom returned. The manhunt for him resolved. But there was a new war coming, and he was betrayed. And even if he needed to stay at camp for the whole year and train. There was only option he could take.
To go back home.
#percy jackson imagine#Sally Jackson x reader#platonic percy jackson#Percy Jackson x reader#fluff#percy jackson and the olympians x reader
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aww nanami’s daughter who’s very possessive of her mama is so cute she definitely got it from her dad need more of her
sneaky lovey — nanami kento x f!reader
your daughter was kind of mischievous. you don’t know where did she get it from, but you have a feeling that it’s from her uncle gojo whom she has spent a lot of her weekends with.
it’s cute really, especially when she seems to be driving her dad crazy with her little pranks. after all of that, he still loves her, of course, but he hopes that she would understand that his stress levels don’t need to be any higher.
he also hopes that she learns how to share, especially share your attention and affection.
nanami is a mature man, so he can’t help but let her hog you all to herself whenever she goes, “daddy! I want mommy! that’s enough time for you.”
and who is he to deny her your love?
but in the end, he still is a man who is so very in love you and naturally craves your attention as well.
that leads to you guys to trying to sneak a few kisses here and there along with a bunch of hugs like a couple of teenagers in love.
you find it funny.
the way that your husband awaits any moment that your daughter isn’t there to press a kiss to your lips and have his arms around you.
he looks like a baby that had his toy taken away for way too long and it is so cute. you don’t mind voicing that out and you laugh softly when he sighs about how he just wants time with you.
on the other hand, he doesn’t find it funny.
one moment, he is kissing you and the other you’re being dragged by your daughter to draw with her.
she can not for the life of her let her dad get a second with his beautiful wife.
another example is when one day, you had sent her to her uncle gojo cause she had missed him.
nanami was low-key over the moon and refused to leave your side, leaving kisses on your hand, cheek, and forehead whenever given the chance.
“kento, you’re pretty affectionate today.”
“mm, just missed you, love.”
it was utter bliss, especially when you guys got to cuddling and reading a book together.
and don’t get him wrong, he loves his daughter very much, but he also loves you and it was finally his y/n time.
he enjoyed while it lasted which wasn’t enough to him but like nanami you spent at least 9 hours together what.
the little miss stole you for herself the moment she came home.
she also invited you both for tea in her little toy house, but had nanami put on make up, a crown, and a skirt and go drink tea alone in a corner.
when he asked her why, she just went, “you’re supposed to be the pretty maid so wait until you get ‘i am becoming a princess’ arc.”
the arc never came.
another thing is that nanami finds it bizarre that you wonder where the hell did her mischief come from.
there is no way that it isn’t innate and it is obvious when he looks at both of you, particularly right now.
these smirks and puffed out chests of pride and your shared giggles are full-proof. you had just done a harmless prank on your poor husband and he just stared at you both, unable to form a response to this bullying anymore.
“(d/n), i need to talk to mommy about something so that okay?”
“oh okay! good luck, mommy!”
oh that traitor. probably learned it from uncle gojo.
“y/n.”
“yes, my dear and handsome husband?” you say in hopes in flattering him.
he gets up and stands right in front of you. he looks at you, “what was so funny about putting a gojo-patterned tie in my closet?”
you nearly bend over laughing when you recall what you did, but you compose yourself.
your husband isn’t pleased.
“you will have to repay me for that,” he says and you pout.
“how exactly will I do that, my lovely kento?”
he takes a hold of your hand and takes you to the bedroom with a smile, “an uninterrupted night with me.”
you chuckle and ask, “cuddles and kisses?”
“and more if you want; I am all yours.”
in the end, nanami feels and knows that he will never want you guys to stop how you fill his life with colors and laughter.
“haha! dad, I drew on your face!”
or maybe he wishes it would be toned down a bit.
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will bite you
#nanami headcanons#nanami x y/n#nanami imagine#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk nanami#jjk x reader#nanami fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines
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always been you
ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: being a famous news reporter, your coverage quickly began to focus directly on the Ghostface killings. little did you know the masked killer was closer to you than you thought.
warnings: dark/canon!rafe, dark!reader, sociopathic tendencies, rough smut, choking, dirty talk, creampie, sexual sadism (both parties consent), knife kink, mask kink, swearing, mentions of stalking, toxic (?) relationship, blood, murder, drug use, smoking cigs
not proof read, please don’t read if cannot handle the warnings. this is something not usually like my writing and i wanted to test it out, so let me know what you guys think !
happy october my loves :3
the blood that splattered against Rafe’s mask was euphoric to him, the stress and anger taken from his body.
the light that left his victim’s eyes as they slipped into their everlasting slumber sent shivers down his cold spine as he dropped the body on the tiled floor.
“you’ll never be around my girl ever again.”
Michael, a 22 year old frat boy who suddenly became obsessed with you during a party, was one that frightened you more than your boyfriend.
Michael was stalker-ish, following you to every class in hopes to get a glance of you between hours. he would show up to every single place you were, and after expressing to Rafe how eery he made you, Rafe just told you, “i’ll take care of it.”
you didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, not that you really cared.
it was a common occurrence. a person would piss you off or annoy you and Rafe would simply “take care of it”.
you believed something was suspicious when the people began to go missing and a reappearance of a masked killer was in the news every week, and deep in the pit of your stomach was excitement.
a mystery as to whom the killer was, a mystery as to what they wanted in the Outer Banks. it didn’t help that you were constantly surrounded the media, as you were the leading reporter around the town.
“Welcome back to channel 10 news, i’m Y/n L/n and today we’re at the crime scene of the masked killer who goes by the name of Ghostface…”
a chill went down Rafe’s spine as he sat on your shared bed, twirling the handle of the knife against his thigh as he watched the news intently.
you, his gorgeous girlfriend, reporting on the crime he committed last night while you slept softly.
were you as sinister, too? the gorgeous and twisted smile on your face as you reported the case made Rafe wonder.
he took the large kitchen knife and wiped the blood onto his jeans, the substance staining his clothes as he watched intently.
“and be careful, citizens of Outer Banks. Ghostface is still out there…”
your words rung in Rafe’s ears as the channel cut back to the people sitting in the station. Rafe grabbed his bag of cocaine that was left on the wood coffee table, putting the powder on his finger as he snorted it.
a few hours later, Rafe was sprawled out on your shared couch. one arm tucked behind his head, the other laying lazily on his side.
your keys rattled as you entered your shared home, letting out a yawn as you put your coat on the coatrack.
kicking off your heels, you approached Rafe, who was dead asleep. you threw your purse on the arm chair, kissing your boyfriend’s forehead.
he stirred in his sleep as you lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before blowing it out gently. you stood in the kitchen, wanting to feel your boyfriend hold you, but not wanting to wake him up.
walking into your shared bedroom, you opened the closet door. shuffling through the walk-in, your eyes scanned the clothes in search for a comfier outfit.
but when your eyes landed on a mask, a Ghostface mask, you could feel your heart stammer in your chest.
“y/n?”
Rafe’s voice scared you, making you jump slightly. the cigarette hung low on your nude-stained lips as you picked up the mask.
“what’s this, Rafe?”
Rafe eyed you, not knowing what to say. his pulse began to rise, his heart thumping nervously against his chest.
“i got it at the halloween store. guess they’re tryna have everyone be Ghostface.”
Rafe answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arm raised above his head. you cocked your eyebrow at him, but a naughty idea twisted into your mind.
you walked over to your boyfriend, putting the mask on over his head. you bit your lip, feeling your pussy tingle from the fantasy.
with Rafe’s flexing biceps as he leaned his head to the side, staring at you curiously, he watched as you subconsciously rubbed your legs together.
“is my naughty girl getting turned on?”
Rafe questioned you, his large hands trailing slowly down to your ass before squeezing it in his palms.
you nod, biting your bottom lip as Rafe suddenly walks you backwards onto your shared bed. a small noise escapes your desperate lips as you fall onto the plush bedding.
Rafe’s hand trails painfully slow down your face, dragging down to your neck, his cock swelling at the thought of how easy it would be to kill you.
your pretty neck so perfect for his hand, his knife, his pleasure.
as your eyes fluttered shut, all you could hear was Rafe’s staggered breathing behind the mask. within moments, a sharp, cold object was placed against your neck.
Rafe was beyond happy you couldn’t see his face, because the growing lust and feverish tendencies were driving him insane.
using his mask, his knife, his girl the way he pleased. and you never suspected a god damn thing, never suspected he was the ravenous murderer of the Outer Banks.
a gentle sigh escaped from your throat, realizing how Rafe was toying with your life for the sake of his pleasure.
the sharp edge of the knife gradually popped off each button of your blouse, your chest slowly rising and falling as your pupils were blown out wide.
you watched the murderous object trail down your clothes, so desperate to dig into your skin.
“Rafe-“ you panted out, the knife completely tearing your skirt apart.
but Rafe didn’t respond, too lost in the way your body was so reactive to him. so reactive to someone who could kill you easily.
your black panties were quickly shred with the skirt and Rafe felt himself pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing cock to spring out.
he wasted no time in shoving his cock deeply into you, his knife angled directly where your vaginal walls swallowed his cock.
he gently pressed the knife harder into your skin, making you flinch from the stinging. your blood began to slowly trickle down your pelvis, and the sight made Rafe go feral.
his hips moved quickly against yours, his hand placed directly on your wound. moans escaped your mouth as you played with your breasts.
“does that hurt?”
Rafe asked you quietly, his eyes still fixated on your wound as his hips relentlessly pounded into you.
when you didn’t respond, Rafe took the knife and cut a little more onto your skin.
“fuck, Rafe! yes it hurts,” you choked out. tears built in your eyes, your pussy throbbing.
“good. i want it to fucking hurt.”
Rafe’s voice was rough and coarse, way too lost in his fantasy. his other hand rubbed your clit harshly, his eyes fixated on the way your bodies met.
Rafe snapped out of his gaze when your hand gripped his wrist tightly, his eyes going up to your face.
you took Rafe’s wrist and brought it up to your neck, his fingers closing on your throat.
“yeah? my dirty girl wants me to choke her while i fuck her dumb in my mask?”
your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock at his dirty talk. your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a breathy whine, the pain from your cut adding to your pleasure.
your legs began to shake as you came, your juices soaking his cock as he shot his cum into your womb.
“fucking take that cum.”
Rafe cooed, slapping your ass harshly, a red hand print tattooing onto your skin.
your chest was rising and falling as your boyfriend slid his cock out of you, your skin stinging as Rafe took the mask off.
his hair was matted onto his forehead, sweat dripping down onto his neck. in one swift motion, Rafe leaned down and licked the blood from your wound. he then walked to the bathroom, shoving his cock back into his pants.
you laid on the bed still, tired eyes as Rafe reentered the bedroom. he had a damp washcloth and bandage, his eyes trailing at your other scarred skin as he cleaned up your wound.
once he was finished with aftercare, he stroked your cheek gently. “my good girl.”
———————————————————————
the next morning came too quick. you woke tiredly, snoozing your alarm clock as you fought the strong urge to go back to sleep.
but when you didn’t feel Rafe’s arm around you, or his warmth, or his presence, you sat up in the dark room.
you turned on your bedside lamp, your phone reading four am. you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you stood up, your legs sore, along with the new scar.
your feet padded quietly against the wooden floor as the light was on in the kitchen. your heart began to pound against your chest as the figure was standing next to the sink, the sound of the water pouring from the spout the only noise in the whole apartment.
“Rafe?”
you asked softly, the tall figure turning around. there stood a man in all black, a bloodied knife in his hands with blood splattered on his tanned skin.
in the Ghostface mask, in the kitchen, stood the killer. but when Rafe saw how you didn’t seem frightened, but yawned at the sight, he cocked his head to the side.
“if you’re going to be cleaning your murder weapons in the night can you at least make me a cup of coffee?”
your words seemed to hit him like a truck, as you approached the tall figure and took the mask off his head. Rafe’s jaw was gaped slightly open as he stared at you in shock.
“what…”
“of course i know you’re Ghostface, Rafe. i’m not a fucking idiot. you’re getting really sloppy with your kills lately. especially when i told you about that one guy stalking me and he randomly got murdered days later? i would’ve at least waited a month.”
you said nonchalantly, grabbing a mug as you poured water in your keurig. Rafe was in disbelief. he felt stupid for not expecting you to suspect him, let alone know.
“you- you don’t care?” Rafe asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you.
“why would i? you would’ve killed me by now if you really wanted to. plus i get something out of it, i get annoying people out of the way and get news to cover.”
the whole situation was shocking Rafe. he couldn’t believe you just didn’t care.
“i mean i’ve thought about killing people before but never acted on it. but when you first started murdering people, i didn’t know until the first few months. but with news coverage comes investigating, and i’ve known you were the famous masked killer for months.”
you didn’t say another word, just stirring your coffee as you left the kitchen and walked back into your bedroom.
“try to get some sleep, yeah?” you called out.
and Rafe stood still in the kitchen, his mind racing a million thoughts, but one that wouldn’t escape his mind.
you were crazy too.
#simpforboys#rafe cameron#rafe angst#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#ghostface!rafe#rafe imagine#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#fiction#outer banks#obx
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Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃
I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.
Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.
A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀
Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.
When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.
He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.
“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”
“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.
Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.
“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”
“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.
“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.
“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”
You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.
“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”
“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.
“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.
“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”
You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.
“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”
“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”
You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.
“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.
“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.
“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”
That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.
You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.
“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.
He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.
Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.
“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”
“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”
You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.
You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.
“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”
He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.
“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.
“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”
You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.
“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”
You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.
“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”
“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”
Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”
“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”
“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.
“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn’t help with all this.”
You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.
“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”
“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”
You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.
“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”
“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.
“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”
You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.
“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”
“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.
“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”
He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.
“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”
You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.
“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”
“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.
“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”
“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.
“Not at all.”
You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.
“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.
“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”
“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”
“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”
“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.
“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”
You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.
“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.
“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”
You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”
The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.
He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.
After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.
You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.
You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.
“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”
“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.
After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.
It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.
“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”
Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.
“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”
“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”
“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”
“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”
“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”
You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.
“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.
You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”
You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.
His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.
You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.
“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”
“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”
You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”
“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”
“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”
“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”
“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”
“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”
“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”
You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.
“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.
You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.
“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.
“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.
You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.
“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.
“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”
“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”
“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.
“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.
“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”
You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.
“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.
“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”
You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.
“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”
“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.
The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.
“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.
You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.
“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.
“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”
“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.
You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.
“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”
“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”
You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.
“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”
You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.
“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.
“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.
“Thanks, dude.”
Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.
He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.
“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.
His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.
“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.
His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.
He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.
“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”
He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”
“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”
“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.
“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”
“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.
He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.
“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.
You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.
“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.
“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.
He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.
He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.
“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”
“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.
You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.
“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”
You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”
“You have no fucking idea.”
You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.
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2,000 MILES TO NONE⋆⭒˚.⋆
part 1 — part 2 here
in which you surprise your bf matt in L.A.
A/N: TYSM for all the love on my last post, def did not expect it but im glad you guys enjoyed the hc’s! chris and nick versions coming soon!
warnings: none, just fluff.
-
“hey guys.” you softly spoke into the camera while swinging your legs off the side of your bed. “today’s vlog is gonna be a bit different since im going to be visiting matt in L.A.”
ever since your boyfriend had moved to L.A. to pursue his growing career, your life back at home has felt empty. matt usually visits frequently, but this time was different. you had been apart for close to 4 months. so you took it upon yourself to plan a surprise visit with his brother, nick’s help.
“only nick knows since im pretty sure chris would tell matt by now.” you laugh while placing the camera down on your vanity. “but yeah, im gonna go get ready, call an uber to the airport, then see you guys there!” you waved at the camera before shutting it off and making your way to your bathroom.
while doing your skincare, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous about seeing your boyfriend. sure you guys call often and facetime almost every night, but nothing can compare to his actual presence near you.
you’re snapped out of your daze when you hear your phone vibrating on the counter beside you. you go to reach for it and see the screen lit up with the contact name “matty b 💌.” you answered the call and was met with your boyfriend’s raspy morning voice.
“good morning love.”
“hey baby, how’d you sleep?” you asked while turning the sink on to remove the left over serum on your hand. you could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone before matt answered, “good, but i miss you.”
you smiled with the knowledge of your little secret, but tried to sound just as upset too. “i miss you too, any plans for today?”
“yeah, i think i’m going out with chris today, just not sure where. what about you?” matt asked, secretly wishing he could just stay on the phone with you forever, or even better, be with you.
“im going out with a couple of friends today so i may not be able to talk much, i have to get ready now actually.” you lied coming up with an excuse as to why you wouldn’t be answering and instead be on a plane ride right to him.
“oh okay, well call me before you go to bed. love you, baby.”
“love you more.” you hung up the call and made your way to the shower so you wouldn’t miss your flight.
after all your side quests, you finally made it to the airport. about an hour passed before you finally heard your gate number be called for departure. you quickly sent nick a text before boarding the plane. before you left the house you made sure to shut off your location sharing with matt (which he was definitely suspicious about), but paid no mind to it now since your whole body was erupting with anticipation.
finally,
you would see him.
-
you double checked your seat to see if you left anything behind before making your way out of the plane.
upon opening your phone while waiting for your luggage, you saw plenty of text messages and notifications. some left by matt, and some left by nick. nick was letting you know the coast would be clear at their house for two hours since matt and chris went out which was perfect. you click out of nick’s messages, but not before sending him a quick text about being on your way. you didn’t bother looking at matt’s messages since you were going to see him anyways.
“hey guys, i am now in california.” you said making sure to vlog the experience. “i’m waiting for the uber now, pretty sure i’ll be at the triplets house in half an hour?”
while explaining further details, your uber pulled up and you ended the segment of your vlog there. in a matter of time, you would be in your boyfriend’s grasp.
-
“nick hurry, im outside!” you spoke into the phone, scanning the area for matt’s car just in case he decided to come home early. your camera was out making sure to get the footage for your viewers.
you could hear shuffling behind the door before it revealed your best friend, nick. “y/n, seriously i missed you so much.” nick said while embracing you in a hug before you could even get into the house. besides missing your boyfriend, you also missed nick and chris deeply. the three of you had formed such a tight friendship that it was hard to see them all leave.
“i missed you more nick.” you smiled, tears threatening to drop, but you refused, you could cry later. “say hi to the vlog.” you said while facing the camera towards nick. he smiled before greeting your viewers while bringing your luggage into his room.
“okay so matt and chris should be here in like 15 minutes, so im thinking you hide in here until further notice.” nick explained and you complied. you both took this time to catch up on everything you’ve missed while being apart, and including some funny footage into your vlog. before you knew it, you could hear the jingling of matt’s key’s before the front door opened. nick brought his finger to his lips and whispered, “come out whenever you’re ready.” before leaving his room to go greet his brothers.
you stood behind the door with your camera recording and facing you. a smile painted your face as you could hear matt’s voice faintly. “have you guys heard from y/n?” he asked his brothers.
“no, why?” nick asked trying to sound normal. “she said she was going out with her friends, then turned her location off. weird right?” matt explained before heading to the fridge to grab a soda.
“super weird.” nick agreed. then chris chimed in saying, “i ‘dunno, last thing she sent me was a fucking deer tiktok.”
matt took a sip of his soda before saying, “i just hope she’s alright.”
upon hearing this, you looked at your camera frowning at the thought of worrying your boyfriend for this long. you thought this was the best moment, so you quietly opened nick’s door and slowly made your way down the stairs.
luckily for you, matt was faced away from you, but chris’ jaw immediately fell open. you quickly made the ‘shush’ motion with your hand but it was too late since matt noticed his brother’s expression before turning his head around.
you smiled while standing at the foot of the stairs before saying, “surprise.”
matt quickly dropped his soda and made his way over to you before engulfing you in the biggest hug ever. his head found it’s way to the crook of your neck, with his arms swirling tightly around your waist. you gestured for chris to grab the camera before you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s neck.
it wasn’t long until your shoulder was soaked with matt’s tears, and his soaked with yours. you laughed at the realization of finally being in his arms. the security you felt upon being in matt’s arms could compare to no other. being apart for so long only made your love for each other stronger as you both strived to wait it out until you’d finally reunite again.
to finally be with your person.
“i missed you so much, so so much.” matt croaked into your neck, not ready to let you out of his grasp, feeling as if you’ll be back in boston if he did. you smiled before wiping your tears with your free hand.
“i missed you more.”
-
A/N: yall should i do a part two of this with y/n in L.A.? lmk, and leave some requests for me to write!
#matt sturniolo fluff#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#requests open#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic
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Who are you? | Alexia Putellas
Summary: Who was she today?
warnings: angst kjj
A/N: I'm going to leave this here and disappear again 😶🌫 Based on "Who are you?" by 5H. (possible part 2)
A flash of camera lights illuminated the crowd as La Reina scored the winning goal for the season. Fans cheered and whistled from the bleachers. She smiled and waved to the crowd, her face bright and bubbly. But at the sight of you, her girlfriend, who cheered the hardest, a frown slowly began to form on her face. She turned her eyes away, hoping the frown would go unnoticed by everyone.
But you noticed your girlfriend's behavior. You always did.
It's not the first time this happens and honestly you were getting tired of it.
Monday you sent me flowers.
(Two weeks before)
Today was your free Monday and the loud sound of your doorbell ringing had you waking up grumpily. You got out the bed with a groan and made your way to the door. The doorbell rang again.
“Oh God. I'm coming! Jesus…” You said muttering a few curses under your breath before opening the door. The least you expected when you opened the door was this. A beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers placed delicately on the floor with a little note with your name on it. You recognized the rushed writing of your girlfriend and you smiled brightly. Grabbing the bouquet from the floor You entered your house and grabbed a vase of water to put the flowers in. Once that was done, you opened the little note that was in the flowers and read it.
“Para mi hermosa novia la cuál amo con todo mi corazón.
De Alexia.”
(For my beautiful girlfriend whom I love with all my heart. From Alexia.)
God, you were so in love with her.
Tuesday made me feel stupid.
“Go away, I rather go celebrate with my fans and teammates, you're always holding me back.”
After Barça won the match you went to congratulate your girlfriend, as you always do whether they won or lost a match. But when you caught up with her she just said that and before you said a word she turned around and went with the rest of the team near the stadium bleachers to celebrate the victory. Without you.
That night she didn't come home either.
Wednesday the world was ours.
Today you woke up with little kisses all over your face.
You smiled sleepily at your girlfriend's actions and slowly opened your eyes.
“Hi there, amor mio” Alexia said lovingly while caressing your cheek with her thumb. “You need to wake up, today I'm taking you on an amazing date” She said with a smirk.
That day, she took you to different places all day long. First, she took you to breakfast at your favorite place. Then she took you to a carnival. You spent hours there without worrying about anything, which made you feel that everything was fine again. The last attraction you went to was the Ferris wheel, and when you reached the top, she kissed you and mumbled "I love you" over and over again.
Thursday you didn't prove it.
That amazing feeling of being on cloud nine faded quickly the next morning when the footballer turned down your invitation to have breakfast together. Instead, she just mumbled about being busy with training, she changed and left without saying goodbye. She didn't answer her phone all day long, and that night, when you tried to talk to her, she just said she was tired and went to bed without even kissing you.
God, what are you doing wrong?
Friday fell back in love.
Today she went back to her honeymoon phase with you. She woke you up with breakfast in bed, she took you to the stadium to watch her train, you went to have lunch together, you came back home together, she made dinner and when you were going to sleep she showed you she loved you.
How can you not fall back in love after all that?
Saturday we didn't talk.
The day after you woke up to an empty bed. You figured out today was going to be one of those days where she disconnected herself from the world and not text you all day, just when she was going home. But today was different.
She didn't text you at all.
Sunday you said you needed space.
It was almost two days after you last heard from your girlfriend when you got a notification from her. Not a call or a text, but a message on social media after not a single word spoken or messaged the entire time. All it said was
“Sorry, I'm not coming home today. I need space.”
It was just one sentence, but it felt like a punch in the chest. How could she go from saying "I love you" repeatedly just days before to not even speaking to you for two whole days?
That message didn't explain anything, just made you more confused and heartbroken. The only thing that you could do was wait, and wait, and wait for her to reach out, which made your mind race with questions like "Why did she say that? Does she need space because she's cheating? Why won't she call me?"
You couldn't even focus on work after that point, as all you could think about was why she could be ignoring you so easily.
(Present day.)
“Do you miss me? Am I crazy? Am I losing hold of your love, baby?
Either you want me or you don't, I need to know…”
All of your thoughts were based on those lines, you couldn't live like that anymore. You needed to know. So when you two finally got home after the game the first thing you did was confront her.
“Alexia, we need to talk…”
#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas x y/n#alexia putellas angst#alexia x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso#woso imagine#woso community
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Haaretz did this:
The full thing is under the cut, in case this link is paywalled for other people. The actual text has blocked out portions as well, to highlight what it's like to report on cases of administrative detention.
Highlights:
Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months
And
In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.
The data shows that administrative detention, this so-called extreme of extremes, is now the norm. According to Israeli Prison Service numbers, Israel now holds 7016 people who have not yet been convicted in its jails – either awaiting trial or under administrative detention. Of these, 4,299 – more than 60%! – are held without charge or trial. And all that is without saying a single word about the torture, hunger and humiliation to which all Palestinian prisoners held by Israel are subjected these days.
Administrative detention is based on secret suspicions, secret evidence and no charges being brought. To conceal its inherent absurdity, hearings are held in-camera and away from the public eye. As such, even the little that is revealed to the defense remains prohibited for publication.
On the morning of October 29, after a short farewell to his wife Nariman and their kids, Bassem Tamimi left his home in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh, north of Ramallah, and started heading east toward the Allenby Bridge. He was on his way to visit relatives in Jordan he had not seen in a long time. A little after 11 A.M., Nariman received a message saying, "The secret police asked for me. I'll write when it's over." And then, shortly after 3 P.M., a call: "I am being arrested. They're coming to take the phone. Have to go. Bye."
This, unfortunately, was not Bassem's first encounter with Israeli law. His village, Nabi Saleh, has waged a multi-year campaign of civil resistance against land grabs and settlement expansion. As a prominent activist, he was incarcerated repeatedly for his role as a protest leader, part of Israel's attempt to quell dissent.
In the evening, the phone rang again. The woman on the line introduced herself, saying she lived in Silwan and was currently at the Hadassa hospital in Jerusalem. She then went on to say that Bassem was there, surrounded by soldiers. He was taken there after his blood pressure soared dangerously. Nariman could faintly hear Bassem's voice over the line saying, "I'm fine, don't worry, everything's good." After a few more hours, at night, that same woman sent a picture of Bassem in the ER, undergoing a checkup; his hand bound with ziptie cuffs. That was the last time Nariman heard from him. Save for a single short lawyer visit before Eid al-Fitr in April, no one has been in contact with him since.
Four days after his arrest, police ████, ████ ████: "███████ ███ ████ █████ ███ ████████, ██████, █████? "███████ ███ ██████: "████ ███ ██████." And that was that. Eight days later – the maximum time afforded to the authorities by article 33 of Israel's military law in the West Bank before a detainee must be presented before a judge (who also is a soldier in uniform) – a six-month administrative detention order was issued, which did not suggest any specific allegations, but rather only a very general statement regarding ███████ ██ █ ███████ .
Eleven more days later, the Kafkaesque proceedings of judicial review over the order took place. Some of it was held ex-parte between the soldier-judge and the Shin Bet. Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months, until April 28.
Administrative detention, however, is not really bound by the limits of time, and can be extended indefinitely. And indeed, as the six months passed, a new six-month order was signed, citing the same meaningless cause of ██████ ████ █ ██████ ██ █. This time however, and unlike the state of affairs in almost any other administrative detention case, the defense had a pretty good insight into the details of the case. Administrative detention is such a mundane phenomenon in Israeli military courts, that , , , .
A few hours prior to Bassem's arrest, Israeli forces arrested █████ █ ████ █ ██████ ███ █████ █ ████████ ███ ███, Bassem's friend from their days together in Israeli jail at the beginning of the millennium. Then too, under administrative detention. ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ██████ █ ██ █████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █ ███ ███ ████, █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ █ ███ █████ ██ ██ ██ ██ ███ ████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███. █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ███, █████ ███ ███ ███ ███ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████? █ █████ ██ ███ ███. ██ ███ ██ ███ █ ██ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████ █ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████.
█ ████ ███ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ████ ██ ███, ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ██ ███ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ ███ █ "██████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ ██████ ███ ███? █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███████ ███." ███ ██████ ███ ████ █ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ █████ █ ██████ ███ ███ 25 ███ ██ █████ █ ███████ ████, long after the administrative detention order against Bassem was reviewed and approved by the court, ██████ was unconditionally released.
On his release, ██████ contacted Nariman and told her what had happened, thinking that his release must also mean Bassem should soon follow. This is how the defense learned the details it knows, and not through discovery by the prosecution. Even though there is no gag order on ██████ ██████'s case, discussing its details in conjunction with Bassem's administrative detention is prohibited for publication. Despite everything that was revealed – and that is the nature of administrative detention: there can always be more hidden evidence, secret, almost mystical – Bassem is still being held under administrative detention even now. Almost two weeks after the hearing, ███ █ ██ ██████ ██████ ████████ █████ █ █████ █ █████, the judge partially confirmed the second administrative detention order against Bassem in violation of military law provisions, ████████ ████ █ ███ █ ███████ ███ █ ████████.
Like Bassem, thousands more are held captive by Israel under administrative detention. In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.
The data shows that administrative detention, this so-called extreme of extremes, is now the norm. According to Israeli Prison Service numbers, Israel now holds 7016 people who have not yet been convicted in its jails – either awaiting trial or under administrative detention. Of these, 4,299 – more than 60%! – are held without charge or trial. And all that is without saying a single word about the torture, hunger and humiliation to which all Palestinian prisoners held by Israel are subjected these days.
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Irresistible {7} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff.
WC: 4.5k
F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven
Your Playlist:
Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie
Pretend - Secondhand Serenade
No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis
You Broke Me First - Tate McRae
Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez
The Night We Met - Lord Huron
Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi
Charles’ Playlist:
Your Call - Secondhand Serenade
The Loneliest - Mäneskin
Roses And Butterflies - Making April
Amnesia - 5sos
Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade
Love Is Gone - Slander
The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script
Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.
“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.
“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind.
Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”
Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”
“Because we had one little fight?”
“I would hardly call it little.”
“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”
Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing.
“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.
“I’ll wait in your garage.”
He faked a smile and headed after Max.
The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.
Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit.
Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue.
As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”
“Can we have a donut day?”
You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”
Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic.
You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid.
“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”
You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”
“I remember. Is this about a boy?”
You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”
You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.
“A boy, right?”
“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”
“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”
“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”
“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”
You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”
Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”
“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”
“That bitch is a-”
“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…”
Your silence was damning.
“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”
“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”
“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”
“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”
“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”
You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”
You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.
“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”
You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay.
“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.
He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”
You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”
“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”
His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.
“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at.
“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”
“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”
“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.
“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”
“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.
He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”
“You know there are no cafes open?”
Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”
You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.”
Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”
“Me too.”
“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.
“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”
It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.
“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.
“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.
“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”
“Okay, have fun.”
Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.
Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived.
The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.
He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.
You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.
Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.
Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room.
The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze.
“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”
Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes.
“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”
“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”
“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”
“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.
“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.
“I’m not wearing boxers.”
“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”
“You make a habit of that.”
“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”
Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.
Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”
His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.
“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”
He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you.
Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied.
“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.
“Would you like a break?”
You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”
“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.
“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”
The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.
“Open your eyes, schat.”
You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.
“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”
Six months later.
“Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended.
“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room.
You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.
“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.
With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.
“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas.
Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued.
Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles.
That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.
“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”
You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”
Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”
He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”
“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”
He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”
“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”
“For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”
You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made.
“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body.
“Ugh, fine.”
The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.
The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.
The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.
“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.
You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”
Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.
“I am.”
He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”
He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.
“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”
“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”
“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.
“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.
“You really believe that?”
The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.
“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”
You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”
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