#terrace house: opening new doors
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Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)
1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:
Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.
Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.
I stopped so they could have their little chat.
2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"
We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)
3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.
So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.
He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.
It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.
4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.
... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.
(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)
5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.
And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"
6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)
7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.
#crawling along#i am so proud of him!#4 years ago i couldn't even touch him let alone halter him let alone... any of this#he's a great donkey. very curious and interested in the world around him especially iced tea bottles
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Club 141 AU
Poly 141 x f!reader
Part 2
Series Masterlist
As mentioned in Part 1 proper vetting of new partners is essential for everyone. This is a work of fiction and liberties are being taken for the narrative. This part explores the wonderful caring and nurturing aspect of BDSM that people often ignore, don’t understand or say isn’t needed. If someone tells you they don’t do aftercare, run.
TW: MDNI 18+, BDSM themes and discussion, mild sexual themes, subspace, aftercare, rather fluffy
It’s Kyle that drives you home from Club 141, bundled into the passenger seat of his car that smells of leather and expensive cologne, still floating inside your own skull after that amazing encounter. Sure, you hurt like hell in a few places, but you’ve never felt this… free.
“You still with me, love?” Kyle asks with a clear note of smugness in his voice. One hand reaches over and squeezes your thigh in a slightly possessive gesture and you sigh happily.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you reply dreamily. “Never felt so good actually.” This earns you a deep hum of approval, almost a growl from the gorgeous man beside you and his full lips quirk in a smile.
“Glad to hear it, you did really well back there,” he tells you, and a tingle of excitement skitters across your skin. He soon gets you back to your place, and insists on helping you inside, taking your keys from your still trembling fingers to open the door.
He looks around the inside of your humble little terraced house, he makes it seem so much smaller than usual and you try to imagine where someone like him would live.
“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” He says as you shuffle in and close the door, and he glances up the stairs. “You got a bath up there?”
His question takes you by surprise and you manage a confused nod before he takes your arm and guides you up the stairs to your bathroom. He puts the lid down on the toilet and plonks you onto it, and starts running you a bath as you watch.
“Um… what exactly is going on here?” You ask, and get a shake of his head in response.
“Aftercare, love. We just fucked you up, and now one of us gets to look after you and make sure your okay,” he says, and moves to stand in front of you, cupping the sides of your face with his warm palms as you look up at him. “And I’m the lucky one that gets to do it.” Before you had left the club with him they’d given you an energy bar to eat and a sweet, cold drink. This seemed above and beyond, but they refused to let you leave without finishing them.
Gaz gets you up when he is happy with the depth and temperature of the water and helps you strip, casting an eye over your skin and noting the marks left by the flogger and shackles, not to mention the bruises on your hips caused by fingertips.
He bats your hands away gently when you try to wash yourself, and you give in easily, letting him cleanse your skin and then massage the tender muscles in your shoulders. By the time he coaxes you out of the tub you are a soft and content blob in his hands, smiling happily while getting dried, moisturised and tucked into bed. When he turns off the main light and heads to your bedroom door you feel a sudden twinge of worry.
“Do you have to go?” You ask him hopefully, and you hold your breath when you see him pause briefly, clearly considering your question when he turns back to you. The soft light from your bedside lamp paints his face in warm tones and shadows, causing your stomach to flutter at his beauty.
“I suppose I could stay tonight, but just to keep an eye on you,” he replies with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth again. He pulls out his phone, sending a text. “If you want me to stay, that is,” he says. His phone pings and he checks the screen, a deep and sonorous chuckle rolls from his chest and he turns the phone screen for you to read. It’s a text message from Price: Fine but do not fuck her!
“Looks like the Captain is staking his claim already.”
You watch from the bed, transfixed as he removes his shirt and hangs it carefully over the back of the chair by your dressing table, then slips off his shoes and removes his trousers. He’s standing there, tall, lean and well muscled in just his boxers then, looking like Adonis himself. Your face heats as you realize just a few hours ago he was balls deep in you, pumping you full of his spend.
“Why do you call him Captain?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself from the intense embarrassment you’re feeling.
“Ah, we served together. Price, Ghost, Johnny and me. We were all in the same team and Price was our Captain. It's just kinda stuck,” he explains as he slips into the bed beside you, and puts one arm under the pillow behind your head. He brazenly pulls you against him, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his pec as he holds you close.
“Get some sleep now, you need to recover,” he tells you firmly, and switches off the lamp by the bed.
“G’night,” you mumble, curling into his side happily.
It’s Johnny that picks you up the next evening after you’d had a call from Ghost inviting you back. You’d eagerly accepted and spent ages deciding what to wear. Johnny arrived on time, dressed for work in a crisp white shirt but with a soft leather jacket hanging from his broad shoulders when you open the front door. He gives you an obvious look up and down, his mouth twitched into a lopsided smile as he nods.
“Lookin’ good again, hen,” he tells you, making heat rush to your face as well as somewhere lower. He offers you his arm and walks you to the car, settling you into your seat before closing your door and getting into the driver's seat.
“You feeling okay today?” He asks lightly as he drives you both to the club.
“A little sore, obviously, but absolutely amazing,” you tell him with a small laugh.
“I bet, you took it all like a champ last night,” he says, then fishes something out of the chest pocket of his jacket, handing it to you.
“Price told me to give you this,” he says, and you take the small golden card from his fingers to examine it. It’s a VIP card for the club with your name embossed onto it. It glitters in the passing streetlights.
“Wow, thanks,” you breathe. You soon arrive at the club and Johnny bypasses the queue, the bouncer nodding to you both as you enter.
Price and Ghost are waiting upstairs in the VIP section again, and you are ushered right past all the other patrons by Johnny, drawing curious glances at your special escort. You catch sight of Gaz behind the bar, a fresh shirt on his broad frame, and he grins beautifully at you while serving a customer. As you climb the steps you see the two waiting men get up from the cushioned booth they were occupying and move to meeting you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you smile warmly.
Ghost still wears his curious white skull mask over his eyes and nose, wearing a deep red shirt and dark slacks that fit him perfectly. Price wears a perfectly tailored dark blue suit jacket and matching trousers, a white shirt partially unbuttoned beneath the jacket letting his thick chest hair show.
Without a word, Ghost takes your arm and dismisses Johnny with a curt nod, leading you into the private room behind Price. The Captain, you smile as you think of him like this, sits himself into his leather chair, knees spread wide as he rests on his throne. Ghost takes you to the leather sofa opposite and sits you down, his arm stretched across the back behind you and his long legs out in front of him.
“Did Gaz take good care of you last night?” Price asks between puffs on his cigar.
“He did, thank you for letting him stay,” you answer, and Price nods thoughtfully as he looks at you. There’s a heavy pause, you start to wonder if you’re expected to say more but you don’t know what. As you begin to try and think of something to say he carries on.
“So, you want to make this a permanent thing?” He asks, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights under his gaze as he makes no attempt to hide his hunger, but you manage a clear nod. “Words, princess,” he chides you, an edge of authority to his tone reminding you exactly what you are offering yourself up for.
“Sorry, I mean… yes,” you answer, finding your voice thanks to your eagerness to please. He smirks, toying with his cigar in his thick fingers.
“Well then,” he grins, and looks up at Ghost briefly, “we have ourselves a sub.”
The masked man beside you chuckles, deep and rumbling in his chest, then gets up heading to one of the cabinets on the wall and opening it, retrieving a black leather collar and handing it to Price. With his cigar held between his teeth he takes the collar and crooks his finger at you once, then points at the spot between his knees. Your head spins as you clearly understand the message.
Moving carefully you slip from the edge of the leather seat onto your knees, then cross the small space on all fours to kneel where he pointed.
“Fuck,” Ghost mutters quietly as he stands behind Price’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly while his eyes burn behind his polished mask.
“Alright, love,” Price warns you, but without any malice in his words. A smile plays on his lips at your little display, and from your vantage point you see the tightening in his trousers. “This is a trial period, to make sure you are comfortable with us, you we are with you. After a few months I will consider a permanent collaring.” The collar hangs in front of your face and you see it has a thick steel ring secured into the leather on a stud, the numbers 141 are embossed into the band. You’d be the property of the four of them wearing this, that thought makes your blood thrum with heat.
You tilt up your chin, accept the collar with pride, your back straight. The black leather is looped around your neck again, a shiver running down your spine as the buckle is fastened. Your mind already takes on that fuzziness around the edges, a slight separation from reality that protects and comforts you as you turn over your self control to the two men before you. Price reaches out a rough hand and cups your cheek, you nuzzle into it.
“Just so you know, there’s nothing rough happening tonight,” Ghost warns you, stepping around the chair and crouching down beside you. “Last night we overstepped, got something different planned for you now. Just want to get you used to us, so come and relax.”
Ghost’s hand tips your chin up to him gently, looking into your eyes and seeing that slightly dazed look as subspace devours your brain, his instructions settling in to your mind easily. He hooks his finger through the ring at the front of your collar and stands, pulling you with him. The two men then leave the private room, tugging you along with them back into the VIP area overlooking the busy club.
Eyes snap to you from those people on the mezzanine when they see you emerge from behind the private door, the collar and Ghost’s grip on you making the situation very clear. The pair sit down and Ghost tugs your collar so you end up sitting between his thick thighs, leaning your shoulder against the hard muscle facing in towards him. His hand rests in your hair, fingers working between the strands and pulling your head so your cheek rests against this leg.
“Stay there now, nice and quiet,” he coos to you, and you rest limply against him. “Good girl,” he praises and your mind unravels even further. You're caged between the legs of one of the biggest, scariest men in the building, protected like the most treasured thing he has ever held. The feeling washes through your brain like warm, sweet honey and you feel like you should be purring. You nuzzle against his warmth, eyes fluttering shut and you hear the soft praises he bestows upon you. You fall into a meditative state, content in your spot as Ghost and Price talk, conduct business and go about their evening.
At some point drinks were brought up with some bar snacks, Ghost taps your lips and tells you to open which you do obediently, eyes half lidded. An olive is placed on your tongue, his fingertips sliding across your bottom lip as he does so, and you eat the food he has given you. He repeats this process a few more times, humming his approval as he watches you with laser focus from behind his mask. His hard cock is held behind the dark fabric of his trousers just a few inches from your face, but he makes no move to do anything about it. Instead, he is focused on his act of care for you.
“C’mon, up here now,” he urges you, and helps you up, legs numb and tingling from being on the floor so long. You wobble a little, brain still fogged in subspace and allow yourself to be pulled into his lap, resting over his thighs now. Price chuckles, taking in your glassy eyes and handing you a drink, Johnny obviously having taken note of what you’d had yesterday.
“Come back now, love,” Price says firmly, watching you take a sip from the glass and blinking your eyes as you resurface from your trance. You feel heat flood your face, a mixture of the alcohol and a little fluster from letting go so easily. The warm leather around your neck sits comfortably and you see people regarding it, and you, hungrily.
“I’m okay,” you grin. Ghost moves his palm up and down your back possessively, meeting the eyes of anyone that dares to look at you and they turn away quickly. His cock presses into your thigh, hard and demanding but he still makes no indication that it’s bothering him. “May I… help you with that?” You say in a hushed tone, and Ghost’s mouth twists in a wry smile.
“No, sweetheart,” he replies just as quietly and leans close to your ear, his chest brushing against your arm. “But know that I’ll be thinking about you later, when I take care of it myself.”
You gasp and clench your thighs at the image this paints in your mind, and you feel rather than hear him chuckle.
“That’s right,” he continues, “later on tonight I’ll be thinking about how your pretty little hole looked stretched out around my cock while I get my rocks off. Just you sit there, being a good, sweet thing for me and Price. But you don’t come tonight, understand?” Your pulse picks up as he whispers this into your ear, and your mouth opens slightly so you can breathe.
“Yes, I understand,” you say breathlessly, and then his words hit you. “Wait, you mean I can’t….?” You leave the question hanging in the air, speaking more loudly now and Price grins.
“Oh you broke the news to her?” He asks Ghost. “That’s right, your orgasms are ours now. You don’t get off without permission from one of us, even on your own. It’s all in the contract, sweetheart. Better read it tonight when Gaz drops you home because nothing is going to happen until you’ve gone through it all. Particularly if you plan on trying anything more extreme with us.” His eyes sparkle as he speaks, clearly he has something in mind.
“Things are about to get… interesting,” Ghost murmured, stroking your back again.
#club141!au#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#captain john price#gaz cod#cod mw22#cod modern warfare#ghost call of duty#cod 141#ghost x f!reader#x f!reader#soap modern warfare#soap call of duty#gaz x female reader#sergeant johnny mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#captain price mw2#john price x female reader#price x you#gaz x you#soap x you#ghost x you#captain price x you#john mactavish x you#simon ghost x you#john price x you#simon riley x you#poly 141#poly 141 x reader
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I have never seen such a weird looking house like this 1988 whatchamacallit in Alloway, New Jersey. It has 2bds, 2ba, $350K. And, if you think the outside is odd, wait'll you see inside.
The front door has a stained glass horse window and an open foyer sort of space.
Somehow it doesn't look finished.
On the 1st fl., there's a living room area in this corner, with a tile wood burning stove.
It's very open, like one giant room.
The dining area is beside the kitchen.
This part of the space has a linoleum floor.
The kitchen has the popular inexpensive 60s laminate cabinets.
This area is sort of a home office.
And, it looks like one of the baths is a 1/2 bath.
I thought that there were 2 floors, but it looks like it goes up to a 3rd.
This would be the primary bedroom.
And, the 2nd bedroom.
Bath #2.
The unfinished 3rd level has potential. It even has doors to the terrace.
This is cute- the uppermost floor looks like a cupola.
Cute 2 car garage.
The garage has a 2nd floor.
The lot is .95 acre.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/85-W-Main-St-Alloway-NJ-08001/39812592_zpid/
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Dinner and Diatribes;
Gale x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [note: references to the fact Tav is Curvy but there’s no descriptors on her appearance besides what she’s wearing]
Summary: Gale gets his perfect night in Waterdeep.
Rating: M (18+ MDNI)
CW: smut (oral sex, PiV sex, fingering, slight overstim, references to Dom!Gale but he doesn’t actually make an appearance this time), insecurity, General Mystra Warning, L-bombs
Word count: 4.5k
Notes: this was originally written with my SorcBard Tav in mind. They end up together post-game and Tav and Gale have not been with each other physically as of yet.
Read on Ao3
Tav appraised her appearance one last time, nerves bubbling up in her when she knew there ought not to be any. She was having dinner with Gale, not a stranger.
Yet, she tugged at the lacy sleeves of her tunic, the cream colored fabric dangling off her shoulders and belling at the sleeves. Her breasts were up and out, figure tucked and smoothed by the sturdy corset she wore. The wrap skirt, slit at the leg with stockings underneath, was periwinkle, hugged her hips and showed some skin. She had wanted to veer away from the normally shapeless practicality of the protective gear she wore throughout their journey.
And she found the delicate pale blue embroidery against the white fabric of the garment to be quite pretty, the silk bows that served as sleeves made her think of romantic ballads. She felt delight at wearing something pretty without thinking of practicality for the first time since being taken by the nautiloid. There was a novelty to sitting down to take time to get ready for something fun rather than something that could potentially end with blood and death.
Her eyes drifted over to the corner of the room that until recently had housed a small altar to the Mother of Magic.
In its place was a vase of flowers, Tav’s favorite colors and blooms, which had appeared that morning. The altar itself had mysteriously disappeared the day after they first arrived in Waterdeep. Neither of them had said anything about it, but she knew he had seen her staring at the dusty offerings and long burnt incense laid at the feet of an idol of his former lover.
With one last look in the mirror she bolstered herself. She was no goddess but she had defeated a Vampire Lord, undead generals, a 200 year curse, hordes of goblins and a Netherbrain. That had to count for something.
Taking a deep breath she left through the bedroom door, and was met by Gale.
Well, Gale’s double. A projection, as he was often fond of using.
“Greetings! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!”
“Oh, are you?” She asked sarcastically.
“I am indeed!”
Sarcasm was not translated into the projection it seemed.
“If you are ready for the evening to begin, please say so, if not, I shall await your confirmation.”
Tav smiled a little, “I’m ready.”
“Please follow me.”
She followed him down to the same level as the study, and she found herself confused. They were meant to be having dinner. The whole package, she had recalled, he wanted to wine and dine her. She expected to be escorted to the dining room, not the study.
The door was closed, and the projection gave a polite bow to signal its leave. Should she knock? Uncertain, she gripped the door handle and opened the door.
Immediately she was confronted with a wave of unfamiliar smells. Normally the study smelt like the fireplace, leather of bound books, ink and slight sea air from the terrace. Instead this smelled of savory food, crisp night air, and heavy sea spray. The entry was draped by lavish silk curtains hiding any view of the room, tassels and embroidered prints creating lovely textures.
Gale stood waiting for her arrival.
His hair was pulled back and pinned neatly in his new fashion of a small bun at the back of his head. He wore a white tunic, billowed sleeves and a jerkin of sapphire blue, embroidered intricately with bronze filigree. Dark blue breeches, and what looked to be blue shoes which matched his vest.
It also looked as if he had trimmed his beard, the lines smooth and incredibly sleek. Tav had certainly noticed how handsome he was during their travels, and even then he was always somewhat genteel despite the rugged conditions.
This was different. He seemed more in his element like this, maybe not quite so formally dressed, but she could imagine this was the Gale Dekarios which caught the eye of a Goddess. Confident, gentlemanly and remarkably good looking.
His eyes lit up at the sight of her.
“Hello,” she said, aware how nervous and jittery her voice was despite her smile.
“Hello,” Gale grinned. “You look… exquisite.”
She blushed. “And you look very good in blue.”
Gale kissed her cheek, and she gripped his face to make sure he kissed her properly. “I’ve prepared everything,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“For you? Always.”
Like a true gentleman, he offered her his arm and she accepted. They walked through the fabric barrier and Tav audibly gasped at the transformation. The study was changed, made to look like an enchanting garden. Lit up by candelabras, framed by arches made of vines and flowers of every color imaginable, it was beautiful.
The view from the terrace had been expanded, so that from every angle a clear view of the glittering lights of Waterdeep glinted. The entire mirage was topped with a star filled sky and the moon hanging at the horizon of the water. She could feel a breeze, not too cold but carrying the scent of the ocean.
A table sat at the center, intimate, and music was playing from some unseen source. Most likely the enchanted piano. Where she knew the terrace was, his couch still stood, overlooking the view. The sounds coming through beyond the music were real, she could tell. It was simultaneously an illusion and blissfully real.
He led her to the table, pulled out her chair for her and then sat across from her. The smile on her face was starting to hurt her cheeks, only emphasized by another Gale projection bringing them wine. They toasted each other and she looked out on the view of the city.
“Do you like it?” He sounded uncertain.
Her hand came out to grab his across the table. “It’s hard to describe, but like isn’t a strong enough word.” She glanced over to the projection of Gale waiting to be summoned for any need they may have, “although I think the waiter fancies me.”
“I applaud his taste.”
It was very clear how meticulously planned the night had been. From the food to the wine, Gale had an exuberant explanation for his choices. For a moment Tav wondered why she would be nervous at all; they had shared every meal together for months. But, Tav knew that this was the courtship he had wanted to offer her, this was the night he wished he could have given her when he thought it was his last back on the road to Moonrise.
Gale, if he was nervous, did not show it. Instead his eyes glinted with excitement, eagerness, and delight. His gaze was so intense on her, she felt like either the wine or something else was making her brain fuzzy.
After dinner they danced, slow uncomplicated movements to the music from the piano for a while, and then settled onto the settee looking out at the water. The night sky was clear, the breeze from the bay adding a bit of chill that balanced out the warmth she felt from the wine. It was a beautiful tapestry of midnight blue and silver of the moon and stars.
She leaned against him half draped over his lap as her legs stretched out, fingers dancing over his palm which lay in her lap. His other hand gently danced over her arm and down her side. She thought she may melt at the warmth of his lips pressed against her bare shoulder, beard softly scratching as he lingered there.
“You ought to be careful, Gale.”
“Oh? What dangers lurk that I am unaware of?”
“The danger of spoiling me rotten,” she chuckled.
“I’m not averse to such a risk,” he nuzzled behind her ear, “quite the opposite, really. You deserve it, and more.”
Her mind rolled over that, heart full at his earnestness as usual. Even if she didn’t believe it, he certainly did.
“Thank you,” she said thoughtfully after a moment. “This night has been so wonderful.”
“It’s not over yet,” he whispered.
A shiver ran down her spine. No words finding their way to her lips.
“If I may be so bold,” he went on, “I’d like to partake in dessert somewhere more private.”
“Tell me, Chef Dekarios, what is on the dessert menu tonight?”
“You,” he said, a grin evident in his voice. “I’d have laid you across the dinner table if I hadn’t promised us both a bed first and foremost. You truly are a temptress,” his hand broke from her loving grasp to run along the curve of her neck, and shoulder, fingers trailing over the tops of her breasts before cupping her chin, “you incite such an insatiable hunger, even when you are doing nothing more than sitting there across from me. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to finally have a taste.”
Tav’s head tipped back, eyes closed as her skin began to flush and her heart began to thud in her chest. “I’ll allow anything you want,” she breathed. “Name it, it’s yours.”
“Tav,” he murmured.
“Yours.” She repeated.
A tug in her stomach and the strange shift of moving through the weave happened so suddenly, she opened her eyes, confused by her new surroundings. She was on her feet, Gale behind her still, but in the bedroom, no longer shrouded by lovely blue night sky but the warmth of a candle lit room and the familiar walls.
Gale murmured something, and then spun her around to kiss her. Needy, fervent meetings of lips, and tongues. Her fists curled into the fabric of his sleeves, and his settled on either side of her face. She felt a tugging at her back, then the cool brush of an unseen hand. He had conjured a mage hand to untie her corset, the fingers pulling at the strings to loosen them.
Before it managed to get them all the way undone, she was fumbling with buttons on his vest. She shrugged the heavy corset off, the thud of it falling to the ground ignored as she pushed his own garment off his shoulders. Before he could distract her with his hands again, she untucked his shirt and pulled the fabric over his head.
Her fingers danced over his warm skin, feeling hair and scars and firm muscle beneath flesh. Gale groaned, bending to grip her by the generous flesh of her thighs to pull her up in his arms, for the quick journey to the bed where he set her down. Her tunic was tugged off, thrown aside and he grunted in displeasure at the thin cloth bandeau that still covered her breasts.
Tav chuckled, grabbing the scrap of fabric and pulling it overhead. Gale’s eyebrows hiked up at the sight of her tits out, heavy and round with already pebbled nipples, and under the scrutiny she felt doubt creep in.
“Not what you were hoping for?” It was half a joke, a deflection for the blush she knew was on her face, something to do besides wrap her arms around herself.
“Are you completely mad?” He finally met her eyes, looking offended. “May I?”
She nodded, only to be firmly guided onto her back as Gale put one knee between her thighs on the bed and leaned forward.
His hands grabbed, not fully able to grasp, even with hands larger than her own. “Soft,” he thought out loud to himself. “How are you so soft?”
“I-I don't know,” she hitched a breathy tone. “Ah, gentle please,” she gasped when he began pinching and rolling the peaks between his fingers, calloused fingers from years of spell work and a combined over-excited pinch both thrilling and overstimulating, “they’re very sensitive.”
“Very important information,” he murmured, running a thumb over one in a soothing motion that still made her gasp out loud. “I wonder…”
The thought trailed off as his mouth clasped around one nipple and Tav gave an undignified squeal as her hips rolled. Too many layers between her skirt and underclothes to provide her the relief she wanted, even with his knee between her thighs. Each brush of his finger over one, followed by a firm squeeze, made her twitch and the laving of his tongue had her letting out soft little moans.
Finally he pulled away, watching as his hands continued where he left off. One hand danced over her soft stomach, and slipped down towards the waistband of her skirt, tickling the skin there until she gasped a laugh. He pushed down her stockings, tugged her skirt off and looked one last time for approval before he slipped her under things down her legs.
For a moment, his eyes darted over her body. Despite the thrill of being at the center of such avid admiration, she felt the need to do something in the face of it. A conflicting moment of uncertainty, the apprehension of him seeing any flaw in her moving her to try distract him. Her fingers came up to grab, but he gently redirected her wrist to his lips.
“You are perfect beyond imagining,” he said.
“You’re a flatterer,” she breathed, her eyes avoiding his, as they trailed over his torso and to the bulge in his breeches.
“I reject that accusation,” he said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it onto the floor before he got to his knees upon it. “I’m an admirer of art.”
Tav rolled her eyes with a half laugh as she allowed her legs to be spread, heels set on the edge of the bed. He kissed each one as he set them where he wanted, beard scratching and tongue peaking out to taste.
She was a little in awe of him like this. His eyes dark, a slight smirk painted onto his face, softened only when he met her eyes and smiled at her. With his broad shoulders forcing her legs wider as he moved further between them, and his hair coming out of his once immaculate bun, she felt her throat run dry and a heat rush through her body as she admired him.
He stopped suddenly, and she met his look of intentional seriousness. “If you need me to stop,” he said, “say the word and we will.”
She nodded her head.
He kissed the inside of her thigh again, before his eyes slid down his hands massaging around her outer lips. She was wet, it had smeared her thighs, that she already knew. A gentle gasp pulled from her lungs as he took his time, rubbing and spreading her, the same look of deep focus on his face as when he was taken with an interesting tome.
Gale rubbed along the seam of her, before spreading her open and gently rubbing her clit. A choked sound emitted from her after he commented, “you’re soaked, my love.”
“All your doing, beloved,” she replied.
“I do love hearing that,” he grinned. “You’ll have to tell me what else I do to you.”
Any response died away when he licked a long stripe along her. The slightest groan came from him, and he began to work. It was agonizing heaven, the filthy sounds as he sucked and licked at her cunt and the way he gripped her thighs only enhancing the actual sensation of his mouth on her.
Half-formed thoughts kept slipping out of her mouth until only single words and whines were all she could muster. Her hands slid over his, and he laced them together, his efforts doubling after the gesture of affection. Her excitement was running so high, anticipation adding to arousal, that she knew she would not last long.
“Gale,” she breathed, “feels so good — so close —“
He never pulled away, just found what was making her legs writhe over his shoulders the most, what made her hips search for friction, and her breath spike. Her hands gripped his so both of them had a firm grip of her thighs, as she suddenly teetered over the edge, heavy waves of pleasure singing in her veins as he licked her through it.
Except once it passed, he did not pull away. It felt good, so she was not going to push him off, but she was sensitive. Each touch of his tongue on her clit felt like a shock through her whole being making her legs clamp around him. He let go of her hands and pushed her thighs apart again, she thought that alone had her ready to fall apart once more.
Relentless and yet somehow still controlled, he was singularly intent on making her come again. The sensation almost scared her as she greedily chanted for more, more, more in her head and maybe aloud, she couldn’t be sure. Gale was groaning into her, the firmness of his grip surprising her still. She wanted him inside of her.
“Please“ she started to beg, “fuck me.”
He gave a moan, the only time she felt him falter. “One more, my love,” he replied. A demand or a promise, maybe both. “Give me one more.”
He let his fingers work over her this time, still between her legs, watching each movement she made. For her credit, she kept her hips and legs from knocking him away, the rest of her body making up for it. Her back arched, she writhed and gripped the bedding beneath her like it was going to anchor her.
When Gale slipped a finger inside of her, easy enough that he tried a second, she went stiff. “Good?”
She nodded her head.
“Words, please, Tav,” he said gently. It occurred to her he may be asking after her wellbeing rather than to tease.
Either way, she loved the feeling in her brain at the idea of it being a demand. Of him tormenting her in the most beautiful way.
“Good!” She blurted out. “So fucking good.”
His mouth had expertly pulled her apart, but she was finding his fingers to be just as talented. She clamped down around the digits pushing in her as she felt herself falling to pieces.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Good, Tav…” when she opened her eyes, she was met with him staring at hers. As if he could read her mind, he went on talking, “come undone for me.”
Her whole being responded to the request, as if he had the ability to command her body with just a word. She writhed and rolled her hips as she came, a truly unrestrained string of cries that she knew were a bit too loud. Gale’s hand cupped her cunt, and she could feel the pulse of it against his hand — his face giving way to pure want as he moaned.
“Alright?” He asked after a moment.
“Would be better if I had you inside of me,”she teased, giddily.
“Minx,” he grumbled, coming to stand.
“Tease,”she shot back sitting up.
When she kissed him he tasted distinctly of her arousal, and somehow it made her heart skip a beat. Her tongue danced over his, hand trailing down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, untying as she went. Her hands slipped inside, grasping through his underclothes at the length of his cock, hard and tenting the fabric.
Gale gave a sinful groan, eyes shut tight and when she started to stroke his jaw went slack.
Tav chuckled, “feel good, my darling?”
“Too good,” he grunted, hand gripping her wrist tight. “It’s been… far too long since I’ve — erm, partaken in pleasure on this plane, so to speak.”
Tav frowned, contemplating that, her eyes drifting to the space where Mystra’s altar had once been then back to him. “That’s okay,” she said immediately. “I don’t care.”
“You might,” he replied, wry smile masking what she knew to be embarrassment creeping up on him, “when the night ends rather, prematurely.”
Tav shrugged. “Then we drink some wine and wait until you’re up to more,” she said casually tugging off the rest of his clothes. “I didn’t wait all this time to have you just once tonight anyway.”
Gale licked his lips, eyebrows twitching up in interest.
She tugged at his wrist, “lay back,” she guided him onto the bed, pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. “We can go slow.”
Gale got comfortable, hands grabbing at her hips when she settled in his lap. Her fingers danced over the orbs mark, raised like a scar but looking almost inked in like a tattoo. The fervor had stalled just slightly, his cock still hard between them but no longer pulsing as it had in her hand.
“What would our friends say if they knew what you were hiding under those robes,” she mused, arms curling over his broad shoulders.
“I rather think I held my own on our intrepid journeys,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Aside from the creaky knees.”
“That you did,” she agreed. “I would have been lost without you.”
She kissed him, slowly and affectionately, as she lifted herself a bit. Her fingers danced down his body again, taking their time to admire the sturdiness he hid under his wizard robes day to day.
Finger nails scratched through the hair that trailed down his torso, and into the thicker patch between his legs. She gripped him again, and he moaned into her mouth, the kiss matching his needy grasp on the flesh of her hips.
Unable to help herself from teasing, she dragged the head of him through her folds, letting him feel how wet she was for him. His brow furrowed harshly.
As she lined him up and slowly sank down, she was torn between watching every minuscule change in his expression and closing her eyes to relish the perfect fit. He stopped kissing her, the shuddering breath he drew and the way his eyes started to roll back giving her that much more satisfaction.
Her own gasp filled the soundless space between them, walls fluttering at the intrusion. “Gods, you feel so good,” she whined.
Gale was speechless. Voice stolen by deep concentration, and then his eyes opened. For a singular moment Tav felt as if she was the only other person in the world, the pure look of awe and combined sharp focus of his attention made her feel ten feet tall.
How could anyone, goddess or not, take his sincere devotion for granted?
“Do you want me to move?”
“Not yet,” he whispered desperately. “Just — please, let me —“
He pulled her to him, bodies pressing at almost every point. His arms were a tight wrap around her, his cheek pressed against her forehead as she gave him gentle kisses along his neck. It felt not dissonant to their time in the astral, joined in every way, but this felt somehow more intimate. To hold him within her, and still have him hold her safely in his arms — a perfect balance she could hardly fathom.
“Kiss me,” Gale breathed. “Please.”
Tav did as asked, fingers tangled in his hair and very gently rocked her hips. He groaned, grip becoming bruising, pausing the kiss and then coming back to it again. Slowly she started to rock, then raise her hips and roll them forward until she was slowly bouncing, the slap of her skin meeting his filling the room.
Gale broke from the kiss, hands moving to the sides of her face. That same look, as if he had seen something beyond his wildest imaginings; focused, stunned and reverent. She never felt so loved in her life, she was certain.
As if she could will the same feeling into him, she pressed their foreheads together. She moaned, as he hit just right within her. Sensitive, eager and greedy she chased the sensation.
“I love you,” she gasped.
His expression crumpled, and he groaned grabbing her around the waist so she had to stop. She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her. “You are… you — I love you —“ he grunted. “Please, let me — feel you.”
She slowed her movements to a subtle rock, which rubbed against something in her that made her entire body seize up in intense sensation. He murmured affirmations to her, face buried in her hair, his hand grabbing at her ass to pull her back and forth.
“I have to feel it,” he said, need dripping from his tone, “buried in you, I must —“
Her mouth left sloppy kisses wherever she could leave them as she rutted against him. As another sweet peak approached she leaned back, bouncing just slightly to get what she needed. Gale’s eyes flicked down to her chest, to where they were joined, and back to her face. Her body started to pulse, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
It felt so good. The drag of him against her walls, the blunt intrusion as she rolled her hips. Whines fell from her lips, she closed her eyes to focus in on the sensation, head thrown back in ecstasy.
As she peaked her legs shook on either side of him, hips moving out of pure instinct for more as she felt herself tighten around him. Uncontrollable pulses, grabbing and sucking him as far as she could talk him and a gush of wetness that added deliciously lewd sounds.
Gale seemed to stop breathing for a moment, before something in him snapped. He grabbed her hips, and with bent knees and feet planted on the soft sheets began fucking up into her.
More ruthless than she had expected, desperate and selfish and needy. It was nearly enough to get her to the edge again. Grunts from somewhere in the back of his throat joined her shocked cries telling him ‘yes’ over and over again.
He watched as he disappeared inside of her, mouth open as he panted, and then finally he broke.
With a swiftness she didn’t expect he pulled out of her, but his arms came around in a caging embrace so he still rubbed against her wet folds. He whined, as his hips jerked without any sort of pattern, punctuated by the hot splashes of him coming. Sticky, wet and warm.
His body shuddered as it passed, but he did not let go of her as he caught his breath. When she lifted her head to look at him, his head was tilted back and eyes closed as he recovered. She kissed his cheek, and he opened one eye to look at her, a smile blooming on his lips.
“You’ve ruined me,” he muttered.
“And you enjoyed every moment.”
“‘Enjoyed.’” He repeated. “Very light way to put it.”
“Then how would you describe it?”
“Hm,” he breathed. “Having trouble thinking currently. I will get back to you.”
“Now that’s a real accomplishment,” Tav laughed. “I’ve rendered Gale of Waterdeep utterly speechless.”
He laughed, one eye peeking open again before he playfully kissed her on the cheek. As she nestled back into his arms, she knew they would have to break away soon to clean up the mess they had made. But for just a moment she cherished the sound of his heartbeat, calming down and steadying with his breath.
“The first of a thousand nights.” He murmured.
“Hopefully more.”
“I’ll have the rest of your nights, if you’ll allow it.”
“They’re yours.”
Thank you for reading! 💜
#bg3 fanfiction#baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction#gale x tav#gale dekarios x tav#gale of Waterdeep x Tav#bg3 gale fic#gale smut#gale fanfic
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fight, and make up
Quinn Hughes x reader
warnings: cussing, angst? kind of?, happy ending, mention of alcohol, ending kind of horrible cause i didnt know how to end it lolz, too long *sigh*
word count: 1.4k ish
Be kind! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Wage peace xx
*****
Person B gets locked out of their house while their roommate is gone, so they spend the night at Person A's place.
“Are you fucking kidding me Alyssa?” you groaned, stood outside the door to the terrace house you shared with your roommate in Vancouver. It was raining extremely heavily, and your work clothes were drenched. Because you had just moved to the city you barely knew anyone. One of your friends from college was looking for a new roommate and you took the plunge and moved from New York to Vancouver just under two months ago. You had tried your best to make some friends, been to a multitude or bars, but trying to make friends as an adult is so much harder than it was when you were a kid. On top of this, you and your boyfriend Quinn had fought the day before and neither of you had spoken to the other since. That’s why, when your key broke two days ago and your roommate, Alyssa, forgot to leave her spare before leaving for a four-day work trip, you were where you were now. Stranded. Cold. Wet. All with no where to go because you didn’t know anyone, and you were mad at your boyfriend.
You stood for a few minutes contemplating your options. Since you always had extra makeup and a clean set of clothes in your car, you could sleep uncomfortably in your car and be sore at work tomorrow. You could also just bite the bullet and apologise to your boyfriend for freaking out on him the day before. In your own defence, he was allowing a random girl who worked at the rink to text him daily. She was clearly flirting with him, even going as far to ask him out for dinner. And even though your boyfriend never entertained her flirtatious comments and only responded politely, it had really irked you that he was replying at all and didn’t shut her down the second she started flirting. What pushed you over the edge when you brought it up was the double standards and hypocrisy when he asked what the big deal was. You knew for a fact that if this was the other way around, he would get so mad so fast and demand you block and remove whoever it was that was texting you. Then all hell broke loose.
Nasty names were called, and shouting continued for nearly ten minutes until you had finally had enough and stormed out of his apartment forgetting your only coat and your favourite lip gloss. You made a b-line to the carpark and only when you were sat in your car did you allow yourself to start crying. You were embarrassed at yourself for being insecure when your boyfriend had never ever given you reason to be, but you were also angry at him for not understanding why you were upset at him. you heard the door to the carpark open and through blurry eyes filled with tears you saw your boyfriend begin to approach your car. Still in an angry frenzy, you quickly pulled out of the parking spot and sped off, not giving him the time of day. Again, you hadn’t spoken since.
You in the end just decided to dry off in your car and head to your favourite bar for a bit to cool off after work and hopefully get tipsy enough to be able to sleep in your car semi comfortably.
After walking through the doors into the loud bar, it wasn’t as busy as usual, it being a Thursday and all, so you manage to snag a seat at the bar. You ordered one drink and just sat watching the game on the TV as you felt someone sit beside you. You looked to your left to see one of your boyfriends’ teammates who you had spoken to a few times. You got into a conversation about the season so far and every mention of your boyfriend made you want his comfort more and more.
Noticing your solemn expression, the teammate asked you, “Where’s Quinn tonight, anyway?” the question made you sigh because you too wanted to know what your beautiful boyfriend was doing at the current minute.
“I don’t know.” You answered truthfully, “we had a fight yesterday and he hasn’t texted me since. It was pretty nasty.” He gave you a sympathetic smile before excusing himself to the bathroom. You ordered you both another drink as you waited for him to come back.
He arrived back to his seat with a slight smirk on his face and when you asked him what he was smirking at he brushed you off and chuckled lightly to himself. The conversation began to flow again, and you noticed him keep looking at the entrance. Then, his gaze fixed solely on the door as a huge grin plastered over his face. He pointed to the door, and you followed where he was looking to see your tired, slightly dishevelled boyfriend scanning the bar for something, or someone for that matter.
As his gaze locked with yours, you looked back to his teammate who was sporting a smug grin. “Snake.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he laughed at your remark. He gave the bar staff enough cash to pay for the drinks you had both had and before you could protest his paying, he was at the door, saluting you on his way out.
The seat next to you was occupied once more with a worried looking boyfriend who scanned your features as you stared into his eyes. There were a few moments of silence where you were both just looking at each other before he decided to finally speak up. “I’m sorry, baby” he admitted. You sighed and looked into your nearly empty drink, swirling the ice about with your straw. He grabbed your hand lightly and brought it to his mouth placing a tender kiss to the tips of your fingers before continuing. “I shut her down like you asked. Then I removed her and asked for her to be moved to another department, so I never have to see her, on or off the ice.” He used his spare hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear and after a few beats of silence he spoke up again. “Why didn’t you call me when you had no where to stay? What were you gonna do, hm? Sleep in your car?”
This caused you head to snap towards him as you looked at him with a shocked expression. How did he know that? Then before you could open your mouth and ask, he spoke once again, as if reading your mind. “Alyssa called me. But that shouldn’t have been the case. I always want you to call me when you need help, baby. I’m always here for you, just you. always.”
You leaned into him to give him a sweet kiss on his lips. “Thank you” you whispered into the kiss as his placed his hands on your hips, drawing you into an embrace.
He led you out to his car, claiming he would bring you tomorrow to get yours. The drive home was quiet. Quinns hand on your thigh was sending you to sleep and the soft hum of the engine was all that could be heard.
“I forgive you, you know.” You speak up as he quickly glanced over to you, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that. You’ve never given me a reason to be insecure in this relationship. I don’t know why I reacted like that,” you said as you looked ahead, suddenly embarrassed again and crossing your arms over your torso.
“You had every right to be mad, baby. I was up all night angry at myself for letting you walk away and not shutting that girl down straight away like I should have. You were right, and you were entitled to feel insecure, but I need you to know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”
You nodded. Deep down you knew that, but past experiences left a small voice in the back of your mind telling you different. There was more silence as he pulled into the carpark of his building. You both made your way through to the lobby and the elevator. On the way up to his level, he pulled you into a kiss and whispered a small ‘I love you’ as he led you into his apartment.
****
hope you enjoyed! Just realising I made her sound like she was homeless at the end lmao
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Your Hot Neighbor
Prompt: You just moved to Manchester because of your job and you meet your neighbour.
OR: 5 times you see your neighbor, 1 time you actually talk to her (or at least, she talks to you)
Prompt 9 (Miscellaneous) :"Abort mission, I repeat abort mission.” “What? Abort what mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and they’re too attractive. I can never speak to them again.”
You recently moved to Manchester after being in London for your entire life. You were a civic lawyer who had just landed her dream job in Manchester as a partner for one of the biggest companies in the whole UK, Smith & Wesson. You were ecstatic, to say the least. Even though you had to move four hours away from your home, you were looking forward to starting the next step of your life. The fact that your best friend lived there was an advantage; now you could finally spend time with her instead of having endless hours of video calls and unlimited texts with each other.
They called you ‘the fox’; you seldomly worked with other people, but you would demolish your opponents on the court because of your wittiness and aggressiveness. You established yourself quickly in the world of law. Everybody wanted to work with you because of how professional and available you were to everybody.
Everybody who knew you and went to see one of your cases would tease you because you would become different when you had to represent your client. You were aggressive, never smiled, and always very serious, which was the complete opposite of what you were in real life. You were shy, funny, and a little bit of a people-pleaser, but you would never acknowledge it.
As soon as you arrive at your new apartment in Manchester, you plop on your new sofa and have a nap. You hated driving, and after a four-hour long drive alone with your dog, you were barely standing up from the tiredness.
The house was chosen by the company you were working for. You didn’t want anything big, as you knew you would be living there alone, but you specifically asked for a garden to let out your dog when you couldn’t take her for a walk. The company was more than willing to give you anything you wanted with the hope that ‘The Fox’ would bring new clients to them. The house was attached to another house, so you would probably at least have a neighbor. Your balcony and garden were shared; only a railing would divide your terrace, while a bush wall divided your garden.
Your dog was a year-old German Shepherd; her name was Leika. Your four-year-old niece gave her that name when she was still a puppy, and you called her that ever since.
As you were already sleeping for an hour, you heard a knock on the door. You slowly move from the couch, scratching your eyes, going to the door. As you open it and recognize who the person is, you immediately throw your arms at her. You finally saw your best friend after months.
“Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you, Ellie!” You say as you finally break the hug.
“It has been too long; how have you been, Nick Wilde?”
“Don’t call me that.” You chuckle.
She began calling you that after you started working for your first job as a lawyer, you went out together for drinks when she still lived in London. You told her that people called you The Fox. She replied, asking if you were like the fox in Zootopia, and from then on, she would occasionally call you Nick Wilde, mainly when you were being irrational, trying to be funny, or just when you embarrassed yourself.
She entered the house, and as soon as she walked in, Leika ran to her and asked for cuddles. She kneeled down and began petting the dog.
“Oh my god! She is so beautiful. I already love her so much!” She awed, never looking away from the dog.
“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to steal away my dog.” I chuckled as I sat down once again on the couch.
For the rest of the night, you stayed in your living room catching up on each other’s life. Leika was peacefully sleeping near your feet. You were already at your second bottle of wine opened when you saw a car parked near your house.
“Were you expecting somebody?” Ellie asked.
“Nah, I think it’s just my new neighbor.”
You both stand up and look out the window, trying to be sneaky, peaking at who your new neighbor would be. You couldn’t see much from outside, only from her car's lights and the street. She was wearing some sort of tracksuit, with her handbag around her shoulders. It looked like she just came back from a run. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and you could see only part of her face, but as she turned around, you had to blink twice.
“Damn, she is beautiful,” Ellie says. She found the keys to her house and entered inside.
You turned around, returning to your couch, mumbling, “She really is.”
After a while, Ellie decided not to return to her place to sleep as she was already very tipsy. She took the couch, having Leika at her feet, while you went upstairs to your room. Tomorrow would be your first day at your new job.
-
The second time you see her, you are taking Leika for a walk. You stop at a Coffee shop nearby your house for some coffee, yes, you are British, and yes, you prefer coffee to tea. As soon as you get your coffee, you exit the shop and head home; as you are walking, you see a woman running towards you with a Manchester United shirt on. She was your neighbor. With the daylight, you look at her, trying not to seem creepy, and she seems even more beautiful than the other night. The sunlight perfectly hit her face, revealing all her freckles and amber eyes. You couldn’t function properly; she was hot, appeared to be athletic, and on top of that, had freckles. You were fucked.
As she moved past you, you gave her a last look and then went home.
-
The third time you saw her, it was a Saturday morning. You just finished one of your most tedious cases since you came here to Manchester, so all you wanted to do was relax in your house with Leika and maybe watch some tv, or, if you were really up to something social, go out for a coffee with Ellie.
It was 2 pm, and you were just finishing changing your bed sheets when you heard Spanish music playing outside. Unable to mind your business, you look out the window from your bedroom to see where the music came from. What you didn’t expect was your neighbor in soccer shorts and a sports bra working out and doing abs exercises.
“So she really is fit,” you think to yourself. You didn’t want to look creepy, so you continued your day, trying to ignore your very hot neighbor once again.
-
You are in your house with Leika and Ellie, the fourth time you see her. It was a scorching day in April, so when you heard that you finally had a free day, you invited Ellie to sunbathe outside with you. About an hour passed when you heard reggaeton music from your neighbor’s house. Ellie suddenly looks at you, giving you a puzzled look.
“It’s just my neighbor working out.” You explain.
“The really hot neighbor?”
“I only have one neighbor, so yes, I suppose.”
“Just admit it; you like her.”
“How can I like her if I didn’t even talk to her.”
“You still haven’t introduced yourself?”
“Nope.”
“Well then, find an excuse and do it.”
“What excuse?”
“Umm, you could say Leika lost a toy in the bushes, and you wondered if it got stuck in her garden.” She suggests.
“You will not stop until I introduce myself to her, right?”
“We are very insightful today, aren’t we, Nick Wilde?” Ellie says sarcastically.
“Stop calling me that.”
“Then introduce yourself to her; the worst that could happen is that she is mean and sends you away.”
“Thank you for the encouragement.” You stand up from your sun lounger and put on a shirt and some shorts. You slowly pet Leika as if she would transmit some braveness, and you walk to her house.
You couldn’t recognize yourself. You were a great lawyer who wasn’t afraid of being confident and skillful, but you couldn't help but feel nervous right now.
You inhaled and exhaled the air quickly, preparing yourself. You were about to ring the doorbell when you saw her. She was opening a small bottle of water and drinking it, then she poured it all over her head, and you could see the tiny droplets of water slowly going down her body. You were so entranced by her movements that you nearly forgot why you were there.
So you focused again on your mission and were about to make your presence known when she let down her hair from her ponytail and combed her hair while moving her head from side to side. She looked as if she were in slow motion. Nope. You couldn’t do this; you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of her. So you speed walked to your house and were soon met with Ellie’s waiting eyes.
"Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.” You walk into your garden, sitting down on your sun lounger.
“What? Abort what mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” Ellie replies, looking confused, following you.
“Yeah, and they’re too attractive. I can never speak to them again.” You put your sunglasses on and continue to sunbathe like nothing happened. Ellie was still confused. At the same time, Leika looked at you, asking herself what just happened to her owner; Ellie just sighed and chuckled, following your lead and lying down too.
-
The fifth time you see her, you see her friend first.
When your boss came inside, you were in your office, “So there’s a new client. Someone recommended you to her, and she wanted you as her lawyer. This is a high-profile case; she is a professional footballer and needs the maximum discretion. I know you don’t need a reminder, but I must insist you do your best in this case.” Your boss advises you.
“I will do my best, Mr. Wesson, I don’t think I ever had celebrities as my clients, but I will treat her like any other client.”
“I know you will, y/n; you are one of our best lawyers. As for celebrities as clients, from my experience, you have to treat them as any other client; they might be more dramatic and a tad bit egocentric, but deep down, they are normal people.”
“So, who’s my new client?”
“Her name is Alessia Russo. She has been having problems with her property.” Your boss hands you the case. “I’ll send her in right now.”
You didn’t know much about football; when you were younger, you would watch some games with your dad, but when you moved out to college, you stopped caring about the sport.
As soon as she entered the room, your first thought was, “Damn, she is tall.” You stand up from your desk and give out your hand so she can shake it. “Good morning, my name is Y/n Y/ln, but you can call me Y/n. You must be Ms. Russo.” She shakes your hand, “Please call me Alessia; you make me sound like I’m old.” You both chuckle.
“Sure! Alessia. Please sit down. I couldn’t review your case, as I got it thirty seconds before you entered. Please tell me your issue, and I’ll assure you I will try my best to fix it.” You gave her an assuring smile, and she began talking.
Over the following weeks, you worked very closely with each other, trying to win the case. Sometimes, she would try to make small talk with you, to get to know you better, but you would always reply with short answers. This case could open many job opportunities for you, and you didn’t want to mess it up and be unprofessional, even though you were just going to be friendly.
One day she came late for one of your meetings with her,
“Sorry, I know I’m late, but our coach made us do an extra hour of training, and I forgot the time.” She apologizes.
“No worries, yours was my last meeting for the day, so you are good. I heard you have the derby in a few days, so you must prepare.” You add.
“Oh my god, finally, my lawyer is giving in to small talk?! Who are you, and what have you done with my her?” She jokes.
“Oh. Sorry.” You say shyly, bringing up again your 'The Fox' persona. “I didn’t mean to act unprofessional.”
“And now she is back.” She chuckled exasperatedly. “You know, I don’t care if we talk about other stuff besides property, right?”
“What about this, if we win the case AND I’m in the mood for it. We can go out for drinks.” You concede. Even though you tried to be professional and a lit aloof, her clumsy and outgoing demeanor reminded you of Ellie and how the two of you would get along together.
After a week, when you won the case, Alessia hugged you and gave you a gift.
“I don’t know if you like football, but if you are free, I brought you two tickets for the derby tomorrow.” She says happily.
“I couldn’t possibly accept.” You gave them back.
“Come on.”
“Okay, only because my best friend is obsessed with Manchester United.”
So that is how you went to the stadium to see the derby. You and Ellie were in a great spot; Alessia found great sits for you.
As you saw the girls running up to the field, you recognize her.
“Is that-“ Ellie questions
“Yep, that’s my neighbor.” You were shocked. Now you finally understood why she was very fit and why you saw her with a Manchester United jersey.
“How could I have not recognized her before?” Ellie wandered.
“Maybe you didn’t see her properly, it was dark outside, and you were very tipsy.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Well, at least I know who Ona Batlle is.”
“Is that her name?”
“Yes. She’s Spanish.”
“Ohhhh.”
“Did you still not introduce yourself to her?”
“Nope.”
“Are you going to?”
“Nope.”
As you continue to see the game, finally, Alessia got subbed in. You point at her. “That’s my client, right there.”
“Your client is Alessia Russo?”
“Yep.”
Your best friend was deadpanned. “You definitely need to introduce me to her. She’s like my favorite player.”
“And not to mention, she is also your type. Am I wrong?” You remark knowingly.
“Don’t use your voodoo lawyer tricks on me, Nick Wilde.”
“Excuse me?! I would never.” You say faking being offended.
She rolls her eyes at you while you give her a dumb smile then you both continue to focus on the game.
At the end of the gave you put yourself near the stands to say hi to her.
“Hey, Alessia, nice goal out there!” You say, making her turn her head towards you.
“My favorite lawyer.” She ran to you happily.
“This is Ellie, my best friend.”
“The one obsessed with Manchester United?” She says, looking at your best friend.
“Yep, that’s me. I’m Ellie.” She says, giggling, trying to contain her excitement.
Alessia was handing out her hand so that she could shake it. Still, Ellie was too caught up in meeting her favorite player that she didn’t even realize, so you gently nudged her arm so she could focus.
“Oops, sorry.” She giggles and shakes her hand.
In the meantime, Ella Toone was approaching the stands.
“You must be y/n, the best lawyer in the world.” She says, looking at you.
“Don’t give me too much credit.” You say humbly, slightly blushing.
“Nope, she is. They call her The Fox for a reason.” Ellie backs you up. You blush even more; Alessia is shocked at your change in personality from when you were in court to how you are usually.
“I don’t think I would ever see the day my lawyer would blush at a compliment.” Alessia chuckles.
“Okay, stop it.” You say, turning your eyes to another figure by the stands; she put an arm on Alessia’s shoulders as she went to the changing rooms. Ona was walking by, and you made eye contact for a moment. This time was Ellie’s turn to nudge you.
“Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?” Focusing on your former client.
“If I remember correctly, you owe me a drink.”
“Tomorrow I have work, so I can’t tonight. But maybe tomorrow night?”
“I’m good with that. I’ll bring a couple of friends. Is it okay with you?”
“Only if I can come!” Ellie interjects.
“Oh, definitely,” Alessia says.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say, waving at her while dragging Ellie to the exit.
-
When you exited the stadium, you went to Ellie’s house and dropped her off, finally going home after a long day. You didn’t expect your neighbor to sit on the steps of your door. You looked at her confused; she saw you and then stood up.
“Hi.” She said awkwardly. You gave her a small wave, incapable of pronouncing words. “So, you are probably asking yourself why I am here.” She says with a very strong Spanish accent.
“You are my neighbor.” You say, deadpanning a little too quickly, genuinely hoping you didn’t sound too harsh.
“Yes, I am. I’m Ona.” She says, giving you a small smile, reaching out with her hand. Your mind was short-circuiting; you internally hoped that from the outside, it wouldn’t seem like it. Spoiler alert, it seemed like it, but Ona was too nice to say something.
“Oh yeah! My name is Y/n Y/ln. But you can call me y/n.” You took her hand and shook it a little too eagerly.
In the future, you will definitely cringe thinking about this first encounter.
“I don’t think you just sat on my stairs just to introduce yourself to me, right?”
“Nope.” She says as she shyly rubs the back of her neck. “I forgot the keys to my house today, and I hoped you could let me use your balcony to let myself in.” She says, pleading.
You hesitated a minute, trying to get your mind around the fact that the woman next to you, whom you had a slight crush, and whom you were too scared and embarrassed to talk to, just asked you to come into your own house to get into hers.
“Or I could totally ask the landlord for a spare key. A stranger asking you to get inside your house might make you feel uncomfortable right now. I’m really sorry for asking.” She rambled, getting her stuff from the floor, wanting to leave, slightly embarrassed.
She is cute when she rambles, you think. “Wait. Come inside; let me help you. We are neighbors, after all.” You gave her a shy smile.
“Thank you, you literally saved my life!”
“That’s a tad bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Nope.” She stood behind you as you opened the door.
“I hope you like dogs because you will definitely see one, no-.” You don’t have the time to finish the sentence that Leika ran towards you and Ona to get her cuddles. You put your bag down and kneeled to pet her. Then you stood up and let Ona in.
“Can I pet her?” She asked shyly.
“Of course, you can. This is Leika, my dog.”
She took off her bag and sat on the floor while Leika jumped on her and started kissing her. Ona just laughed and began petting her.
Her laugh was so cute and heartwarming, you never wanted to stop hearing her giggles, and you didn’t even want to get started on her voice. She had this deep voice that she asked something, you would just comply with her, and she could make you do-. You definitely had to get your out of the gutter immediately.
You blinked once, shaking away your thoughts, while you put your bag on your desk chair.
“Busy with work?” She asks, looking at the pile of papers on your desk. “Yeah. I’m a lawyer, so I usually get many piles of paper daily.” You chuckle nervously.
“Wait. You are y/n? Lessi’s lawyer?”
“I can’t either confirm or deny.”
“You were the girl talking to her after today's match, weren’t you?” She says, recognizing you.
“Yes, it was me.”
“So it is you then!” She says happily.
“Maybe…” You say, giving her a small smile. “You played well today, Ona; you definitely carried the team.”
She blushes a little. “It’s really a team effort.”
“Yeah, but you definitely shined more than other players. Don’t tell Alessia that I said that.” You chuckled nervously.
“I won’t. But as I said before it-“
“It was a team effort.” You roll your eyes jokingly. “Just take the compliment, Ona.”
“Okay, only if you take my compliment.” She says shyly, slowly rocking herself from one leg to the other, “You looked cute when you tried to deny you are Lessi’s lawyer.” You were taken aback by her words. You definitely weren’t expecting that. Try to act cool.
“I-, “you stutter.
“I’ll take yours if you take mine.” She smiles innocently, kneeling back down to Leika and petting her.
“ I- thank you?” You blush, “I’m not really used to taking compliments.” You chuckle.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles. “So, where’s the balcony?”
“Oh yeah, right.” You nearly forgot why she was in your house in the first place. You bring her upstairs.
She would have to pass through your bedroom, and you hated that. A, because you just met her, and B, you couldn’t help wondering if the room was tidy or messy.
“I’ve recently moved in, so it might be messy there.”
“Don’t worry. I get it. I thought lawyers would be tidy and organized, but I guess everyone makes mistakes.” She teases.
“Ha ha, very funny. I feel very offended right now.” You joke.
“Oh, poor you; how will I make it up to you now?” She smirked.
“Oh, I know some ways you can.” You mumble lowly.
“What did you say?”
“Uhm, nothing!” You say, snapping out of your thoughts.
She definitely heard you. You definitely are still in denial about that.
You open the door to your room, and you let her in; you don’t let her have time to wander with her eyes into your bedroom and bring her outside. You were both out now; she threw her bag into her balcony.
“Let me help you; I don’t want a dead person in my conscience.” You grinned, holding out your arms for her.
“Oh, I get it, you wanna be, what you English people say, my knight in shining armor?” She smirked once again.
You slightly blush, “You know what, legally, I can say you are an intruder, so go on without me, I won’t help you, nor will I be your knight in shining armor, as we English people say.” You remark, trying to mock her accent.
“Hey, I don’t speak like that!” She gently smacks your shoulder.
“Yes, you do.” Mimicking once again her accent, lowering your voice, then you chuckle.
She sighs, frustrated, and then she looks where she has to climb over and then at the ground outside. You see her hesitation, and you jump into action.
“Just let me help you.” You plead, once again offering your hands to her. This time she takes them without blinking twice. Her hands were so soft, but you could feel the hesitation as she wouldn’t move.
“Are you scared of heights?” You ask.
“What?” She replies, still looking at the ground.
“Are you scared of heights, Ona?” You gently tighten the hold on her hands, trying to ground her.
“Nope, I am not!”
“Okay, say that while looking at me and keeping a straight face.” You chuckled.
“Okay.” She gave up. And for the first time in a while, she looked at you, “I may be slightly scared of heights, happy?”
“Definitely. Let’s do this. Why don’t you stay here while I open the balcony door for you?” You reassured her.
“Can you take the house keys for me? They are on the nightstand near the bed.”
“Okay,” You reply. You climb over the railing; as you are about to put your feet on her balcony, you act like you tripped. She gasped. Trying to reach for your hand. While you just laugh at her concern.
“You asshole.” She smacks your hand. “I hate you.”
“How can you hate me? We just met.” You say dumbly, reaching for the door and opening it.
As you open the door to her room, you look at it, then go back and look at her, “So you gave me shit about me being messy while you are the one talking.” You say, shaking your head in awe.
“I recently moved in?” Using the same excuse that I said before.
“Nah, our landlord told me you’ve been here way longer than me.” You laugh. “Just admit it.”
“Okay, I’m a little messy.” She sighs, “I’ve been really busy lately, and I haven’t been able to clean up; I’m sor-“
“I was just messing with you.” Cutting off her ramble. “You look very cute when you ramble, though.” She blushes and then shakes her head.
“So, the keys?” She giggled.
“Oh yes, right!”
You come out of her room and hand her the keys for her railing.
“Now, can you please help me return to my house?” You smile.
“Yeah, sure.” She offers her hands to you and slowly pushes you towards her.
“Wait!” You scream, losing your balance and falling to the floor of your balcony on top of her. You stay there for a moment, flabbergasted, and then you quickly get up to your feet. “I’m really sorry! Did I hurt you?” You ask her, helping her up.
“You are asking me that? I nearly got you killed; I’m so sorry!”
“Hey, I’m good, see?” You show her, making weird movements with your arms, making her laugh. “Plus, you did a pretty good job muffling the fall.” Winking.
She hesitates for a moment and then quickly hugs you. “Thank you, really.” You hold her a little tighter, “You are a lifesaver.”
She shyly takes two steps from you, “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Well, I don’t know. Are you planning on blasting your reggaeton music?”
“Probably.” She grins. “But I meant if you were coming to have a drink with us with Lessi.”
“She invited you too?” You ask her, and she nods. “Then I’m definitely not coming.” You joke, smiling to show her.
“I’ll see you there then.” She starts to walk away.
“I’ll count the minutes.” You tease.
“Asshole” She screams as she exits your house.
Bonus
You were back to work the next day but still didn’t tell Ellie that you had finally talked to Ona. You knew you had to say to her before going out for drinks with Alessia and her friends. So when you picked her up during the evening to go to the bar where you would meet the others, you told her,
“So, about yesterday.” You begin.
“Oh my god, yes! It was so cool meeting Ella Toone and Alessia Russo! God, I am actually going out for drinks with them! I am so excited!”
“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say that, but yes, also that.”
“Oh, sorry, got a little excited for a moment. Please tell me what you were trying to say.”
Suddenly, you don’t know why; your nerves caught up to you, and you can’t pronounce the words; luckily, you just got to the bar.
“I-I. We are here.” You say, releasing your seat belt and exciting the car.
You get inside the bar and are soon greeted by Alessia, who runs up to you to hug you. “I genuinely thought you would bail on me.” She laughs.
“I thought about it.” You joke. “But Ellie here really wanted to come.” You tease your best friend.
“Okay, Nick Wilde, don’t get too cocky now.”
You approach the table. Ella and Ona were already there. You and your neighbor smile when Ella asks, “Nick Wilde?”
“Yeah, I usually call her that when she’s trying to be funny or gets on my nerves. So always.” She grinned; you gasped and gave her a smack on the shoulder. You begin to talk to Ella, ignoring Ona; of course, you were doing it on purpose as you didn’t know if she wanted to talk to you after yesterday or if she was just being nice because she had to get in her house.
“Aren’t you going to say hi to your neighbor, y/n?” You slightly blush.
“Hey, Ona, did you remember your keys today?” You joke, making Ellie look at you strangely while Alessia and Ella look confused.
“Wait. Are you guys neighbors?”
“Yeah, we only actually met yesterday.”
“Wow, what a small world,” Alessia says.
“Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom, y/n can you come with me?” Ellie says, dragging you away hurriedly to the bathroom. “Sure. I’ll be right back!” You say the last part to the girls.
You enter the bathroom, and your best friend quickly shuts the door with a waiting expression.
“You talked to her?”
“Yeah. Well, she talked to me?”
“Fucking finally!”
“It’s nothing; she locked herself inside the house and used my balcony to get in.”
“So, did you talk or did more than that?” She smirked.
“Oh my god Ellie! I’ve just met her; get your mind out of the gutter.”
“So nothing happened?”
“Nope. We just talked, and that’s it.”
“Okay.”
After a while, you leave the bathroom, and Ona tells the two English girls about yesterday night. They were all laughing, and you only heard, “So I tried to help her, but I just made her lose the balance, and she tripped and fell on top of me.” She laughs.
“Nothing happened, my ass,” Ellie whispers, sitting at the table.
“Y/n Y/ln parkour sensation, everyone.” Alessia jokes.
“You are the one talking, Alessia. Do I have to remind you why I had to make another copy of all your case documents?” You grin wittingly.
“Ohhh. Nick Wilde has some character!” Ella replies.
“Not you too, with the nickname.” You sigh, holding your head in your hands. “I need a drink.”
“Let me buy it for you.” Ona offers; you look at her dumbly.
“You don’t have to.” You shrug.
“I insist; you helped me out yesterday. I owe you one.”
“You won’t let it go, won’t you?” You both smile without taking your eyes off each other
“Nope.”
“I’ll come with you then.”
Your interaction didn’t go unnoticed by the table as they shared questioning looks while you headed to get drinks.
The night progressed really enjoyably. You and the girls got along very well, and you thought that you could actually be friends with them. Ellie was having a blast and, honestly, was a tad bit drunk. It was midnight when you decided it was best to get her home.
“I think it's better if I take her home.” You say to the girls. You hug each one of them quickly, making the one with Ona extra uncomfortable, then you drag Ellie outside.
You call a cab, and soon you leave the bar. Ellie was already asleep in the car. So when you get to her house, you slowly wake her up, and with your help, she is sleeping safely and soundly in her bedroom. You decide to walk home, which would take only five minutes. Ona’s car was already there, so you were glad she came back home safely.
When you reach your door, you rummage through your pockets to find your keys, but you can’t. Fuck. You left them on your coffee table.
So you decide to do what your neighbor did yesterday, hoping she would still be awake.
You knock twice at her door, really hoping that she will answer. After a few seconds, you see the light turned on in her living room, and she opens the door. She was already ready for bed, with no make-up, some shorts, and an oversized T-shirt on.
“Don’t tell me that you forgot your keys.” She chuckled tiredly.
“I-I’m sorry. I think I left them on my coffee table. Can I get in through your balcony? Then I’ll get out of your way.”
“Of course, you can! As you said yesterday, we are neighbors after all, and friends?” She asked.
The thing is that you didn’t want to be friends with her at all. You wanted more, but you knew you had to wait for that.
“Yep, friends!” You say a little too forcefully. She, fortunately, ignores your tone and lets you in.
The house is the same as yours, only the furniture is slightly different.
You get into her balcony and carefully climb over it into your property; she just looks at you.
“Ha Ha.” You open the door leading to your bedroom and finally look at her.
“What?” You ask, a little embarrassed.
“We should stop losing our keys; what if you fall off that railing?”
“Oh, you care about me!” You tease.
“You are an asshole, Nick Wilde!” She grins, rolling her eyes.
“Only for you.” You wink suggestively. “And don’t call me that.”
“Asshole?”
“Nick Wilde.” She says. “I hate it.”
“Another reason to call you that, then.” She chuckles.
You wave at her as you are about to go to your bedroom when you hear.
“Wait! Y/n” She hesitates; you can see some doubt in her expression; you move next to her; she is leaning on the railing on your side. You move beside her, and she whispers, “May I kiss you?”
You definitely weren’t expecting her to say that. You couldn’t speak.
“What happened? The cat got your tongue?” She chuckles nervously.
You just react by reaching out for her, touching her cheeks, and simply kissing her. Your first kiss with her was shy and tentative. But it was all that you hoped for, a confirmation that you weren’t delusional and that she liked you back for some strange reason. You couldn’t fuck this up.
You break away from the kiss and put your foreheads together while you gently stroke her cheek. You both smile at each other, and after a few instances, you break off the moment by talking.
“I am so glad that I came to your door tonight.” You laugh, still breathless.
She gives you a small peck, “I am glad too.”
You step back, defying all of your self-control to just jump to her side of the house, fully make out with her.
You gently wave at her, giving her one of your biggest smiles.
“Good night, neighbor.”
“Good night, Nick Wilde.”
#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fic
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ring of love; csc (03)
summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.
modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut
a/n; new chapter !! also added navigation and some lists to my profile where you can find right here <3 you can find my masterlist, idea/wip dump, a link to my ask box where you can send in thots, requests and even comments; alongside my ao3 ^^
hope you all enjoy this chapter and lmk if you can guess which korean web series one of the scenes are from 👀
hint: it involves a certain kpop group
it was the beginning of fall when your family moved to daegu.
though it wasn’t a big or dramatic move, since you’re moving from the big city to a smaller town in the same province, it was still big to you because it was your first moving experience.
you vividly remember watching the colored leaves fall from the branches and onto the pavement, being stepped on by pedestrians and you imagined they made those ‘crunch’ noises as depicted by the many cartoons you’ve watched.
you were only 5 years old.
“___, are you excited to see our new home?” your mother asked from the passenger seat, turning to see you kneeling on the backseat, admiring the outside view. you turned to her with a big smile, letting out an excited ‘mm!’.
smiling at your enthusiasm, your mother turned to your father who was driving; reaching out her hand and placing it over your father’s resting on the armrest of the car. “do you think she’ll like the place?”
intertwining his fingers with hers, your father gave your mother’s hand an assuring squeeze, “i’m sure she will,” he spoke, “if she doesn’t, we’ll just have to hope it grows on her.”
your mother laughs at your father’s statement; at the same time hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.
the car stops in front of a white double-story terrace house. the second floor had been extended into a balcony and you notice the few familiar plants from your previous house put on display. half of the wall on the outside of the second story was an exposed brick wall, which adds a little bit of red-orange aesthetic to the full white design of the house. the ground level had a black gate, with two front doors in the same colour with floor-to-ceiling tinted windows.
getting out of the car, you ran up to the gates, attempting to climb them before your mother rushed over and picked you up. “sweetie, that’s dangerous!” she pointed out, a frown on her face.
your father was at the boot of the car, stacking two of the many boxes together before making his way to the gates. “honey, the keys are in my back pocket, could you get it?” reaching out a hand into your father’s pocket and fishing out the keys. unlocking the gates and the front door, your mother placed you down on the ground to help your father with the boxes while you decide to explore the interior of the house.
running up the stairs to the second story of the house, there were three gray colored doors. being a curious child, of course you went through all three of them. you opened the first door that revealed the master bedroom, which of course is going to be occupied by your parents. the second door lead to a bathroom; and when you reached the third door - a pink sign was hung on the door with your name written on it.
pushing the door open, the first thing you noticed was a pink bed tucked nicely in one corner of the room. across it was a white study table with a few trinkets decorating the surface, followed by a wooden closet right next to it. at the foot of your bed stood a similar level bookshelf, filled with all your favorite books and coloring books; alongside some of your plush toys.
“do you like it, babygirl?” came your father’s voice from behind you. whirling around and flashing him a big smile, you excitedly nod your head as he crouched down to your level, giving your hair a ruffle.
“i’m glad you do.”
he then proceeded to pick you up and placed you over his shoulder, legs hanging over his shoulders. “daddy!” you squealed, giggling as he gave you a piggyback ride.
“honey! ___!” your mother called out, “come meet our neighbours!”
you stared down at the young boy from your father’s shoulder while he stared back up at you.
as your father sets you down from his shoulder, the roles switched; you’re now staring up at the boy while he stares down at you.
seeing how the staring contest would not end anytime soon, your mother placed her hands on your shoulders, introducing you to the young boy and the woman standing next to him who you deduced to be his mother.
“my, what an intense staring contest,” she chuckled. “we’re the lees’! that’s my husband, and this is ___, my daughter.”
“intense, indeed,” the woman chuckled. “we’re the chois’. it’s nice to meet you, ___. this boy here is seungcheol, my son. my husband’s out back dealing with the garden.”
she then looked down at seungcheol, lightly patting his shoulders, “cheol, did you bring what i asked you to?”
snapping out of the staring contest he was having with you, seungcheol handed you a paper bag which you accepted after getting a nod of confirmation from your mother. looking inside the bag, you see a container of brownies, a small ‘wah…’ leaving your lips.
“mom and i baked them last night! we hope you’ll like them!” seungcheol said with a big grin on his face.
placing a hand on your head, your mother smiles, “our little ___ will definitely like them. she has an incredible sweet tooth.”
“no, i do not!”
“___, sweetie,” your father spoke up, “you ate half a tub of ice cream in half an hour.”
“daddyy!!”
you were 7 when your little crush on seungcheol began.
you were in the playground, swinging on the swingset with your bear plush in your lap when a group of boys approached you. “that’s our swing,” one of the boys spoke, arms crossed as they stared down at you.
you stopped swinging and looked at the group, “you can’t claim a swing. it’s a playground for everyone.” visibly upset by your response, the boys stepped closer so that they would tower over you. “well, this is our swing now. get off.”
“no.”
you could see the face of the boys turn red - from anger and embarrassment that you were refusing to follow their instructions. as they continued to stare down at you, one of them noticed your bear plush, snatching it out from your lap.
“hey!” you shouted, getting off the swing to try and get your plush back, “give him back!”
“nuh-uh,” the boy retorted, raising it up above his head so you can’t reach it, “that’s what you get for sitting on our swing!”
you then shove at the boy, crying out, “i said give him back!”
“back off, girlie!” another boy said, shoving you back with a harder force, causing you to fall back onto the ground of the playground.
as the boys walked away with your bear plush, leaving you to cry on the ground. they tossed it around, occasionally dropping it on the floor and purposefully stepping on the poor plush, later on acting as if they didn’t mean to do so. witnessing the boys’ treatment towards your plush, you pulled your knees to your chest, hugging it as your cries grew louder.
“___?” a worried seungcheol called out.
crouching down in front of you, seungcheol places a hand on your head, gently petting it in an attempt to comfort you. “___, what happened? why are you crying? are you hurt anywhere?” you attempted to answer him. but, due to your crying, you had a hard time forming words, only letting out harsh pants and whimpers.
“easy there, ___,” seungcheol said softly, “take a deep breath, okay?”
when your crying calmed down, the older boy heard the laughters of the group of boys. turning his head towards their direction, he saw them taking turns throwing a plush bear at each other. seungcheol recognised the plush bear - it was the very same plush he had gifted you on your 7th birthday.
he then turned back to you, noticing that you were looking at the group with a frown on your face. pressing his thumb against your forehead, he gave you a gentle smile, “don’t frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”
turning back to the group, he let out a sigh, “they took your bear?”
you sniffled as you nod your head, wiping the snot from your nose with the sleeves of your hoodie. “do you want me to get it back for you?”
“p-please…”
nodding his head, seungcheol got back up on his feet, ruffling your hair before making his way towards the group of boys.
“hey, you rascals over there!” he called out.
you don’t know why, but you felt your heart race, a small blush forming on your face.
after seungcheol had gotten your bear plush back from the group of boys (mainly by scaring them off because imagine an older, taller boy approaching you with a scary look after talking to the girl whose bear you had snatched), he walked you back to your house.
as his parents were out working, it wasn’t unusual for seungcheol to spend some time at your place with your parents as he waited for his to return home. sitting beside you on the porch of the backyard of your back garden, seungcheol was eating a piece of brownie your mom had baked while you enjoyed a cone of vanilla ice cream.
“you need to learn to stand up for yourself, ___,” seungcheol spoke, placing the now empty plate next to him and looked at you. “but, i have you to protect me!” you responded with a smile on your face, earning a small laugh from the boy. “i know, ___. but, i can’t always be there for you.”
“d-does this mean you’re leaving me…?” you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. “oh, ___,” seungcheol said softly as he places a hand on your head, “that’s not what i mean. i meant it as in, there will be times where i can’t always be with you. you remind me of a puppy,” he chuckled. “maybe that can be a nickname for you, hmm?”
when your eyes light up and nod excitedly at the older boy, he lets out another laugh and ruffles your hair.
“alright then, pup.”
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Heyy so if u don’t mind can u do where lewis and the reader are co-parenting their daughter :) <3<3<3
Don't mind at all. Hope you like this piece.
Aiyla - moonlight or moon glow
Long Way Down
You tried to work things out with Lewis, but they don't always go as planned. Despite having a plan and thinking things were going fine, you might have been in denial, and both of you took things for granted, resulting in nothing going the right way.
Now, you and Lewis co-parent your adorable 3-year-old daughter, Aiyla.
“Daddy, play outside… please,” Aiyla asks sweetly.
“I’m sorry, baby, but we can’t go outside today... Daddy just needs to do a little more work.”
Aiyla keeps her hands on the glass door of the terrace, admiring the view from inside.
She lets out a deep sigh, and it breaks Lewis' heart to see his daughter like this. He had an emergency meeting with the team to discuss some new upgrades they'll be working on, and it happened while Aiyla was staying with him.
His sweet, loving baby is waiting for him to let her play outside in the garden and with her little playhouse and slide. Lewis can't bear the thought of letting her be alone outside, so he makes her wait by the door with her big, cute, brown eyes, wishing she was on the slide or in the playhouse.
Aiyla goes to Lewis, who was at the table with his laptop and the team.
“Daddy, Mommy?”
He sees her on his lap, trying to reach up and sit with him. He lifts her onto his lap and lets her watch the meeting.
“Um.., Mommy went out for a little while, and she'll be back later.”
“Mommy and me, play please..”
Hearing that makes Lewis rethink the meeting. His baby thinks he wasn't giving her much attention and wants her mommy back.
Shit, he thinks to himself.
“Just a little more, baby… I promise,” he reassures her and kisses the top of her head.
You entered the house as quietly as possible to see how Lewis was dealing with your baby. Unsurprisingly, he was working on his laptop with your child on his lap, trying to have some "quality time" with her. You and Lewis had agreed to meet at your place instead of taking her to the playground to avoid unnecessary attention since your baby daddy was a prominent figure. You chose to keep it private for you and your daughter, despite lingering bitterness. Accepting that it had come to this was hard, and you couldn't help but feel responsible, though that's what you believed in.
You slowly approached them, and your daughter felt your presence, nearly jumping off Lewis' lap, startling him with sudden excitement. He sees you and noticed the disappointment in your eyes.
"I'll take her outside, so you can finish up," you told him as you took Aiyla off his lap and into your arms.
"Hello, my sweet, cute baby. I missed you," you kissed her cheek, and she giggled.
You opened the balcony sliding door, and she got excited, wiggling from your grip to run to the garden. You put her down, and she ran like the wind.
When you turned around, you saw Lewis looking at you with sad eyes, as if he knew he hadn't handled things well, but his life and career were at stake. It wasn't his fault; you put this on him, and now-
Aiyla started patting your leg, distracting you from Lewis, and you looked down at her.
"Daddy play?" she asked.
"I don't think he can-"
"I'll play with you, baby," Lewis said, suddenly right behind you, your faces inches away from each other. He put his hand on your back and kept his eyes on you.
"Can you wait for Mommy and Daddy? We're just gonna talk a little. Is that okay, princess?"
Aiyla let out an annoyed huff and left.
He turned you around, pulled you close, and put his hands on your waist.
"I know that look, (Y/N). It was all a coincidence; there was an emergency meeting, and-"
"Mick messaged me. He saw you were with Aiyla during the meet and then texted me," you interrupted, leading to an awkward silence.
"I know this isn't what we wanted-"
You looked at him, wondering what he meant by that.
"I didn't mean it like that... I meant us."
He took a deep breath. "I don't like it to be like this. I hate seeing you away from me. I hate that the distance between us keeps getting bigger. I want us to be like before."
"You know we can't be like before anymore. We have Aiyla now." you tell him.
"I know that, but I want us to try again and give... and give me another chance."
You pulled away and looked away from him.
Aiyla was looking at you from her playhouse.
"I don't know, Lewis... I need more time to think about it. I can't make a decision right now. I have Aiyla now. I can't be so careless about this."
"I get that, but please just let me try. I'll be better this time. I'll let you take your time, but (Y/N), I need an answer. You can't keep running away and avoiding me."
"I will..."
You kept your eyes on Aiyla and saw that she was getting sleepy playing house.
"You can put her to bed if you want and.. Stay till she falls asleep"
"Yea, I'd love that! Thank you."
Lewis came close to you to give you a kiss on the cheek, but you stepped backward.
"Sorry, Ummm... Small steps..." you smiled at him.
"Yea, that's... Yea."
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton blurb#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton imagines#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton oneshot#f1 fandom#f1 fiction#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#dad!lewis hamilton
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The Spider to the Fly
Statement of Oliver Barrett, dated 22/05/2023
The rent should have been the first red flag, I know that, but fuck me, have you seen the rents in Dublin these days? Worst than fucking London, if you can believe it. And there's this guy, right, four-story townhouse, twenty minute walk from my new job, says he just wants a tenant to make this place feel less empty, all for a grand a month, bills included. In this market! Too fucking right I didn't question it.
Well, I say a grand a month. One thousand euro and one cent, to be exact. The cent didn't bother me at the time, why the fuck would it? The man wants to add a cent to the rent, I'll give him a cent. Maybe it was to get over some threshold for something, or some tax dodge, or whatever, I didn't know and I didn't care. It was still €999.99 less than I'd be paying anywhere else in Dublin for some damn sight nicer digs. Now though, knowing what I know, after everything that… well, anyway, it bothers me more now. It feels significant. Like those old penny rents you hear about, or something. Something symbolic, and old.
But anyway, there was a cheap room going, in a good location, a good house, it was bloody better than anywhere else I've come across, and I was only in Dublin for a weekend before I properly moved to get everything sorted, so I didn't ask too many questions. So I go to this house, and it was gorgeous. We're talking Edwardian or Georgian or, I don't know, fancy. Some Upstairs Downstairs shit, like there were servants quarters and a coal cellar and whatever a scullery is. I didn't really think about it at the time - again, I'm not really in a position to ask questions - but you usually see houses like that in a row, right? Like terraced? This one was just there. On its own. On a nice street, don't get me wrong, but it was taller than any of the other houses, set back a little, and the style's all wrong. Maybe I thought the rest of the street had gotten destroyed in the Blitz or whatever they had in Dublin, it's not like I know anything about history outside of naming a couple of Henry the eighth's wives.
So I walked up to this great big, not quite right house, and I pulled this rope by the door and it fucking clanged. This wasn't some little ding dong electric doorbell, this was some fucking machinery. It felt like the house was vibrating from it. And while I'm reeling, this Victorian era sonic torture device still going off in my ears, the door swung open, too fast really, faster than you'd expect someone to get to the door, even if they were by it.
I don't know who I was expecting but this guy was hot. Like, something else. I'm talking movie star hot. Fuck, maybe he was a movie star, there's so many movies these days, right? He could have an Oscar for all I know, maybe that's how he could afford the house. I'm looking up at him, checking him out, and I don't have to look up at many people but this guy is real fucking tall, six-six maybe? And rail thin, but in a way that he makes work, he wasn't gaunt or anything just… angular. He had this jet black hair and his eyes were somehow even darker - at the time I probably would have said they were like ink or the night sky or something sappy, but looking back all I can think of is how shark's eyes look. I don't know, maybe that's just me projecting stuff after… well you know, after what happened. And he's just stood there, completely still, but, fuck, I really don't know if I can explain how fucking still this guy was. And that's not me looking back after the fact, at the time I was a bit creeped out. It was like looking at an optical illusion or something, like my eyes couldn't put together this guy that I'd just seen open a door in double-speed with how fucking still he was now. It was like someone had pasted a photo into the middle of my vision. And even though he was so fucking still, there was this, I don't know, this tension to him, like I could just see some energy there, ready to… fuck, I don't know, pounce. Like a tiger or… well, like a… but that's for later I guess.
Anyway, I'm checking this guy out, because he was sort of giving me the creeps, sure, but he was also fucking hot, and suddenly he wasn't so still anymore, and he’s looking me up and down and he's smiling and I'm starting to feel like this guy's checking me out right back. I don't know if you're gay, but there's this look, right, every gay guy knows it, this discrete little up and down, maybe with a little smirk and it just says, you know, "I'm gay, you're gay, let's fuck sometime". Now, I've had my share of guys in the past, I'm not about to be humble about it, I know that I'm hot myself, or, well I guess, you know, back then… but you know, I really was a great looking guy. Square fucking jaw, little dimple right in the middle of my chin, real broad shoulders, you know, I've always played rugby, and you could tell, because I had some decent fucking muscle on me, still do, probably, somewhere under all this fucking… whatever. The point is that I've had guys lining up for a chance to bounce on my dick, so I wasn't exactly shocked when guys checked me out but this guy, I mean, he was out of my league, you know? Out of everyone's league. It's insane to think guys that look like that would check anyone out.
So I was feeling sort of cocky, like maybe I could get more than a room out of this deal. And I know, don't shit where you eat, and definitely don't fuck your landlord, but fuck me this guy was hot, right? I couldn't pass up on this. And everyone in the fucking city's probably going for the room, it's not like I was likely to get it anyway, not with an advert that attractive. Sorry, what's that? Where did I see the advert? No, sorry, I can't quite… No, no, I don't think it was on a website, maybe a… Listen, I don't fucking remember, okay?
Anyway, so this guy smiled and he stepped back, and with his long legs he was all of a sudden right back in the shadows, and he let me in and the door closed behind me and all of a sudden it's just so dark. And I sort of stumbled around and I hear his voice, somewhere off down the corridor, and he said, and I remember this, because it's the first time I heard his voice, all soft and whispery, like I'm imagining it more than I'm hearing it, and there's this light, coming down the corridor from some door, but it's not like the hallway gets any brighter, it's just this beam of light for me to walk to. And he said, right, he says "Why don't you come into the parlour?" I remember that, exactly, because who the fuck says parlour, but it's in my head too, like it echoes in there. Anyway, so I walk towards this light, but it feels, I don't know, like I'm pushing through something, like- fuck, sorry, can we stop for a minute, I just need-
[Archivist's note: the recording was paused here at the subject's request. The subject was provided with a cup of tea and a member of the museum staff brought some food. After around five minutes, the subject was happy to continue the interview.]
Sorry, it's just, that's sort of where it feels like it all started. Walking through that hallway towards that voice and that light and that… that parlour. I'm not sure I really even remember what happened next. We spoke, for a while, the house rules and stuff I guess, when rent was due. I don't even remember agreeing to taking the room, it was just assumed. He certainly didn't give me a tour. He didn't even tell me his name, I don't think, not then anyway.
The next thing I knew I was back blinking in bright daylight, disorientated to be out of the dark and out of the warm, heady air of my new home. I flew back to London the next day, and spent the next few weeks preparing for my move. I received a contract in the post and found out my landlord's name - Damhán Alla. The contract was short, and was lacking a lot of the details I was expecting - nothing about a deposit, no bank details to transfer money to, none of the usual stuff. And what was there was odd - the contract was for one year and one day, no naked flames, the basement was out of bounds, I wasn't allowed to use certain spices or cleaning products, and I specifically wasn't allowed to do the hoovering myself. But like I said, if he wanted to run a tax dodge or whatever it was by renting me a cheap room, and if he was a little particular about his cleaning, or he's got some allergies, I was happy to help him out.
I turned up with all my worldly possessions in a few bulky bags - I'd either sold a lot of my stuff or sent it to my parents for storage, there was no realistic way I could haul much of anything to Ireland. My new landlord opened the door and was once again eye-achingly still for a moment or two, and then suddenly he's all charm, welcoming me in, taking my bags from me once I'm over the threshold, asking me how the journey was, if I wanted something to eat or drink.
I stuck my hand out. "It's Damhán, right?" I said. "I don't think we actually exchanged names last time." Thinking back, I don't even know how he knew my name and address to send me the contract.
His laugh was soft, but with a cruelty hiding somewhere deep in it. There was another sound there too, coming from his throat; a clicking maybe, or bubbling, and a hissing behind that. "Damhán," he corrected my pronunciation. "Not 'Damn-ham'."
"Down," I tried again. He shook his head and repeated it, slowly. "Dow-un," I said, doing my best to replicate him. He shrugged and gave a small nod - it would do, obviously.
I had the attic room - a whole floor really. In contrast to the rest of the house it was light and airy, with large windows and modern furniture. It had an en suite, a little kitchenette, even my own sitting area. I never needed to use the rest of the house if I didn't want to, but Damhán assured me from the shadows of the stairwell that I had the run of it, reminding me once again about the contract's stipulation not to go into the basement.
I got the full tour. The house was huge - I mean huge, you know. Bigger than it looked from the street, it must have just gone back and back. Loads of empty rooms, which makes sense, I guess; what are you supposed to fill that much space with? I remember at the time asking where his bedroom was, you know, just so I'm not stepping on his toes, and him avoiding the question. Thinking back I don't think I ever did figure that out. And the whole house was dark, curtains drawn in every room, hardly any lights. And cobwebs absolutely everywhere. And these cobwebs weren't dainty little strands, you know, they were thick. I'd occasionally walk through one and actually get stuck for a second or two. I remember thinking that if I had enough money to afford a house like that I'd hire a cleaner to come in a couple of times a week, but rich people are weird, right?
We made our way through the dark to the kitchen - me stumbling, my new landlord silent - where he started pulling out pots and pans to cook me lunch. I can't remember if I'd mentioned being hungry, but I suppose I must have been, anyway, after so long traveling.
Once he was set up, he led me through to the parlour where we spoke that first time, and told me to sit down. He left and I could hear him cooking in the kitchen.
He came back in after a while and placed a plate filled with bacon sandwiches in front of me. The bread was thickly sliced and freshly baked, the fat on the bacon was still sizzling slightly, and I could smell the butter before it was even close. There must have been three or four of them on the plate, each one piled with bacon and far too much for me to eat in one sitting usually. I remember salivating and licking my lips. Damhán licked his lips as well, and watched me tuck in.
Damhán wasn't much of a talker, I quickly learned, but he liked my company at meal times. Whenever I did try talking to him, he'd always end up laughing - with that hissing, bubbling, clicking sound beneath it. I learnt after a while to not make him laugh. He'd not eat with me, he'd just… watch me. Each breakfast and dinner time, and lunch on weekends, he'd call me into the parlour, place a pile of food in front of me and watch me eat it all. Always huge portions, always rich and fatty, always fucking incredible. Some of the best food I'd ever eaten, honestly. Every time I'd think, I'm never finishing that, y’know, always a proper pile of food, and then I'd take that first bite and… Look, it did taste amazing, it did, and I'm sure that was a part of it, but really… I don't know. I just ate. Like I entered a trance, or I was sleepwalking, or… I don't know, okay? All I know is he'd put food in front of me and watch me eat and then it was like, I don't know, like I knew I was eating but I didn't feel it. Like someone else was eating and I was watching them as well.
I started snacking at work as well. I've never been much of a snacker, got to watch my figure you know. Ha! And you can see for yourself how that turned out. But all of a sudden I'm just hungry all the time, I'm stashing chocolate and biscuits in my desk and in my coat, and all day I'm just mindlessly eating and- no, no, not like when he was watching, not that kind of mindless, just, you know, I didn’t ever think about it, it was just, I don't know, habit or instinct or automatic or whatever.
I didn't notice at first. The weight gain, I mean. God, I mean I must have noticed it, but I didn't notice it, you know? Like I could see it happening, I could see myself getting doughy and could see my gut puffing up and how my clothes weren't fitting right, but it's not like. I don't know. I thought with the move and the new job and living in a new country, it was just stress. Like, my weight goes up and down sometimes, this was just an up, there was nothing to notice.
But it kept on going up. And up. And at some point I'm bigger than I've ever been and my clothes aren't just fitting weird or too small, they're tight. Like, couple of sizes, bursting out, buttons not closing tight. I don't know what everyone at work thought. God, I must have been obscene. Actually, I think I, yeah, give me a moment, I've got a picture from around then, some work drinks thing… ah, yeah, here you go.
[Archivist’s note: the subject here showed a picture of himself in a small crowd, at a bar or similar. The subject looks to be around 250 lbs and wearing clothes several sizes too small, with skin showing where his shirt has ridden up, and shirt and trousers showing clear signs of the fabric straining. This picture, along with several others the subject has provided of themselves during their time in Ireland, can be found in the supplemental materials attached to this statement.]
I still didn't see it though. Like, you can see what I looked like, and, I mean, god those trousers! They must have killed, you know? And I can remember how painful they were to wear, remember noticing my body getting bigger, but my brain, I don’t know, just didn’t make the connection that I was actually getting fatter.
It was fast. Really fast. There was this woman in the office, Sarah, right, and she was maybe six months pregnant when I started. Well, obviously, couple of months later she's going on maternity and I looked over at her and I think its the first time I clocked how big I was getting because I realised my belly was bigger than hers. Even accounting for, you know, different heights and builds and stuff, my gut still looked bigger on my frame. One day just before she was due, she mentioned she's put on over two stone, and I remember people saying how much that is. I get home and I weighed myself for the first time since London. I was eighteen and a half stone. I'd put on about five stone since moving. I literally put on more than twice as much as a pregnant woman, and I did it in only a few months. That's mad, right? After that I tried to pay a bit more attention to my weight, step on some scales occasionally, but like I say, it was difficult. My brain just couldn't focus on the idea.
At some point in all of this, some point before I realised I put on more than Sarah I mean, Damhán one day just appeared in the parlour while I was eating some, I don't know, mound of potatoes and meat, and he just put this pile of clothes next to me. Didn't say a word, no mention of how it's because I'm bursting out of my own clothes or where they've come from, just puts them next to me then stands back to watch me eat.
I tried them on later and they fit perfectly. Well, I mean. They fit, anyway. I think I was so used to my clothes cutting in everywhere by that point that anything that was actually reasonably my size felt like it was tailor-made. They must have been expensive though. Real wool suits, tweed trousers. Not really my style, you know, bit old fashioned, but I couldn't deny they looked good, and by that point I was just happy I had something where I could get all the buttons to close.
I remember one time, not too long after, I think I was a bit over twenty stone at that point. I’d come back from the pub - I started drinking a lot, during it all. I think on some level I recognised how fucked up it all was and was just trying to… I dont know. Numb myself. Get out of the house. Whatever. I came back, took off my coat and shoes and whatever, get upstairs and collapsed. The next morning I had this hangover from hell, but at least I knew Damhán’s going to have sorted a slap up breakfast to help me through it. So I went downstairs and… god, sorry, it's just… right, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need…
[Archivist's note: The recording was once again paused here, and the subject was given some cake and biscuits while he became settled.]
Sorry, where was I? Right. I went downstairs and he’s standing in the hallway with his palm outstretched. Completely still, like he's been there hours, just waiting for me to come down. He had a lighter in his hand - I must have nabbed it off someone in the smoking area, you know how it is on a night out, you just sort of pick these things up, don’t you? Anyway he’s stood there with this fucking lighter in his hand, just staring and staring at me as I come down the stairs, and he said “Your contract said no lighters”. That's it. No “good morning” or “how's the head” or whatever. “Your contract said no lighters.”
And I said, you know, sorry, won't happen again, few too many last night, as you do. And he doesn't move. Just stood there with his lighter and he just repeated himself, louder: “No lighters, no naked flames.” And I realise, this guy’s angry. Really, properly, fucking livid. He was almost shaking with it, you could hear it in his voice. His face wasn't really showing it, not really, a little bit around his mouth maybe, but his eyes were… fuck they were blank. This guy was furious about this lighter, probably waited for hours for me to wake up, and his eyes were just blank.
So I'm there realising just how badly I've fucked up, that he must have some phobia or something. I’d seen all the hobs and whatever were induction whatsits, but I'd not really thought about it until then, just thought, I don't know, fuck, that they were just induction hobs, didn't think to care. I started to apologise again, told him I understood. I don't know if he heard me. He just went on and on about lighters and fire, getting louder and louder all the time, until suddenly he just stops and turns around and walks away down the hall.
For a second he stopped outside the door to the basement and put his hand on the knob and turned to look at me. It was like he was sizing me up, looking me up and down. Clearly he decided against whatever he was planning because he carried on to the kitchen and just snapped at me to go sit in the parlour. I remember that moment really clearly. And to say it now, it's nothing, right? He went to open a door. Decided against it. But… fuck me, it felt important at the time. Like my whole life depended on whether or not he opened that door. Maybe it did.
Fifteen minutes later he walked in and just put two big frying pans down in front of me, one piled up with bacon, one filled with eggs and sausages. He walks away and comes back with a loaf of bread and a couple of packs of butter and throws those at me and says “eat”.
And there was a part of me that, you know, obviously wanted to ask about the deconstructed breakfast sandwich I've just been served, and a part of me that was just absolutely boggling at how much food there was, but then there was… I mean the biggest part of me, the bit that wins out, just says to eat.
So I ate. I reached out and I grabbed some bacon with my bare hands out of the frying pan and I just shoveled it in my mouth, and just carried on until it was all gone, all the while with Damhán stood watching. Then the eggs and sausages, just with my hands, you know, with the yolk just, fuck, just dribbling down my arms. When that was all gone I started taking bites out of the bread. Didn't slice it, didn't butter it, just ate until it was gone. Then Damhán just carried on watching me and I… I got that feeling. Like I was in a trance and the only thing I knew is that I had to eat. So I bit into the butter. Just took a great big bite out of it. And another, and another. Fuck me, I ate it like it was chocolate. And I was screaming at myself to stop, right? Obviously I didn't want to be eating butter by the block. But he didn't force me, or threaten me, or whatever, didn't even tell me to. I ate it. I did that. Me. And he just watched.
Once I was done he walked out and left me alone. I won't lie, I cried. Pretty fucking hard. My stomach hurt, I was covered in butter and grease and egg. I felt huge - I was huge. And I just felt so ashamed.
After that it all picked up pace. He never mentioned that day again, but meals got bigger. A lot bigger. Each one could have fed a rugby team. Occasionally he'd just put a block of butter on the side, like it was a fucking dessert or something. I always ate it. He never told me to. I just knew what I was supposed to do.
And I started swelling up. I was gaining fast beforehand, but this was, fuck me, I reckon it must have been over a pound a day, maybe two. Must have been, honestly, considering how fast it all was and how big I am now. Clothes just seemed constantly uncomfortable; even straight after he'd given me bigger ones, they'd not quite fit right. My back hurt all the time from hefting around this gut, my feet hurt, I got these stretch marks fucking everywhere. It was just a lot, all the time, and my body never got a chance to adjust.
It was around Christmas, I must have been, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven stone - who knows honestly, it all went by so fast. I went to my work’s Christmas do. Fuck knows what they must have all thought of me - can you imagine? They hire me at thirteen, fourteen stone, and not even a year later I'm pushing double that and not showing any signs of stopping?
Anyway, the Christmas do. I'm wearing the biggest Christmas jumper that I could find in M&S, and even that's, you know, riding up on me, fits me like a sausage casing. People are being friendly, nicer than I'd be if I was watching someone inflate in front of me in real time, if I'm being honest. No jokes or anything; not to my face anyway. And someone asks if I'm going home for Christmas, and I say no, I'm staying in Dublin. They ask, you know, very reasonable questions; am I not seeing family, my friends back in London? And I couldn't answer them. I had no clue why I wasn't going back home.
Eventually someone asks will I be doing anything with my housemates. I said it's just me and the landlord, so they get to asking about him, you know, what's he like, is he alright, do I get on with him. And at some point I mention his name and a couple of people give me funny looks, one woman laughs at me. I assume I've just said it funny, you know how Irish names are. And someone tells me that Damhán Alla means spider in Irish. I sort of laugh and say I must be saying it wrong, I spell it out on a napkin and someone says, no, that’s definitely just ‘spider’. And they keep on asking questions; is it his first name, full name, do I know if it's a nickname, just finding it absolutely mad that the new fat English bloke at work is claiming his landlord’s full name is Spider.
It makes me feel weird. I think they eventually just accept it as a weird name, like celebrity parents calling their kids Apple or Moonbase, but it really stuck with me. And I didn't really talk the rest of the evening, I just sat thinking about the cobwebs, and how dark the house is, and how dark and empty his eyes were.
At some point I followed someone to the smoking area and made a point of nicking a lighter. I didn't know what it was supposed to do, what I'd use it for, but fuck it, if Damhán didn't want me to have a lighter then I'd make sure to have a lighter. I tucked it into my pocket, and from that point on I always had it hidden somewhere, slept with it under my pillow, even kept it in sight when I was having a shower.
Nothing changed for a while, not really. I had my lighter, and I was thinking about Damhán differently, but honestly, it's not like I'd trusted him for a good while anyway. I was still eating the insane piles of food he put in front of me, still getting fatter and fatter. This goes on for a few months, and remember, I reckon I'm putting on over a pound a day at this point - a few months is a good long time to be putting on that much weight. But, as I got bigger, I felt like Damhán started to act differently towards me. I could see him eyeing me up sometimes, like, I was some fruit he was waiting on to get ripe enough. He even asked me, a couple of times, how much I weighed. I'd always tell him, between my bites of butter. One time I said I wasn't sure and he followed me up to the bathroom and watched me weigh myself. I remember him laughing when I read off the weight - bubbling and clicking and hissing again, making my stomach turn - and telling me I was doing a good job.
One Sunday in March, breakfast was huge. I mean, I was pretty used to eating a lot of food by that point, but this was just a crazy amount of food. He just kept bringing out plates and plates of it, didn't even watch me like he usually did, just kept on going back into the kitchen to whip up more. Eventually the sausages and eggs turn into roast vegetables and chicken and gravy, and there's some steaks in there, a load of it was just ready meals still in the plastic, and it all just keeps coming and coming and I just keep eating and eating. Eventually it got dark and the food stopped coming. He never says what the fuck just happened or that it was over, he just stops coming in with trays of food. Anyway, at some point a bit after that I heard him go through the basement door, which, I mean, I should have realised then that something was about to happen. Because I've never been down there, obviously, but I also don't think I've ever seen him go down there either.
Anyway, I sit there burping and farting and digesting until I feel human enough to pull myself up, and fuck me I was used to putting on weight by that point, but I could literally feel all that sudden extra weight. And I stagger up the stairs, probably travelling about a foot a minute, really fucking sluggish, until I collapse into bed, in the same too small pyjamas I had on that morning, my gut fucking looming over me, not even enough strength to pull the covers over me, fuck knows if I’d even be able to reach over my gut to grab them in the first place, and I’m asleep within a few minutes.
At some point I woke up. I didn't think too much about it at first, because I'd started snoring pretty bad somewhere in the first hundred pounds or so, bad enough that I woke myself up with it sometimes. But eventually, I started to see a shape somewhere above me. Like, the room was pitch black, but there was a section above me that was even darker. And I felt something drop onto my face, like something wet and slimy. I reach over to turn my light on and there's Damhán leaning over me, with his mouth wide open, long lines of saliva falling down onto me.
And his teeth were, fuck, I don't know if I'd ever seen his teeth before. Like, maybe he never opened his mouth when he spoke? Or maybe it was the same as how I didn't think about how much I ate or how big I was getting and he just made me not notice them, but they were… fuck me. His mouth was full of these huge, sharp, black fangs.
And even though he had his mouth wide open, wider than I've ever seen any human ever open their mouth, it sort of felt like he was smiling. Like this sadistic, shit-eating smile.
I backed away, as best as I could, what with my being the size of a small hatchback and the fact that he was close enough that even a normal sized person wouldn't be able to really put that much space between him and them, never mind me with my gut almost touching him. I realised that I was covered in cobwebs, thick ones, so that I had to pull them off as I went. And he laughed. His mouth didn't move, but he laughed, and it was so much worse than any other time I'd heard. It was that same gurgling, hissing, clicking sound, but it was like he wasn't bothering to cover it up anymore. I felt like throwing up.
I reached under my pillow and I grabbed my lighter and held it up to him, lit. It seems mad really, how he reacted to it. A tiny little flame like that, and that fucking monster cowered from it like I was holding a gun up to his head. I’m not particularly maneuverable, these days, so it was a struggle, but I made sure as fuck to keep that little flame between him and me at all times as I heaved myself out of bed.
I backed towards the door, and I think he panicked that I was going to get away because he lunged at me and… fuck. He went up like he was covered in petrol. The flame barely touched him. And he started going around the room, bumping into things, and they went up as well.
I couldn't exactly run, but I turned around and I lumbered out of there as quickly as I could. At one point I turned round and the whole landing had gone up behind me. I couldn't believe how fast it was all burning. I think it was all the cobwebs.
I got downstairs, with my heart pounding, and I turned around one last time to see the basement door open. I heard this clicking and gurgling, like when Damhán laughed, and these legs came out round the door, like spiders’ legs but huge. Six, eight feet long maybe. I didn't wait to see whatever they were attached to. I barrelled the door down, and I think it came off its hinges - this much weight will do that.
A neighbour must have rung 999, because the emergency services got there pretty sharpish. The paramedics put one of those foil blanket things awkwardly over my shoulders, like it was supposed to cover me up, and I got given a cup of tea and sat in an ambulance for a bit, then got taken to the police station for some questioning. I lied, obviously. Just told them I woke up when I heard the fire alarm and that's all I knew. I mean, what was I supposed to tell them? I set fire to my surprisingly flammable landlord because he was fattening me up to feed to a spider god he kept in the basement? Is that… I mean, do you think that's what it was? No, no, I suppose you don't know any more than me.
Someone at the station must have picked something up about why I wasn't giving any details, or they had additional information about the house or something, because someone mentioned I should give you guys a call. That you've smoothed over cases before where some of the details have been, I don't know, weird.
And I guess I thought you might be able to give me some answers. If you've seen anything similar, I mean. Like why did he have to make me so fat? Okay, you've got a spider-thing in your basement and you want to make sure its meals are nice and big and nutritious, but then why take so long? Just feed it a normal-sized person a week, not, fuck, not the fattest person you’ve ever seen after a year.
No. No, I suppose you haven't. Sorry, I just. Yeah.
I've been to a doctor about the weight. They didn't even have any scales that could weigh me, they had to refer me to a specialist who had some bariatric scale things. Fucking four-hundred and eighty something pounds. Thirty-five stone, or near enough. Have you ever even seen someone that big? Ha, I suppose you have now, yeah. Anyway, yeah, they've got me on some special weight loss regime, you know, restricted calories, physical therapy which is basically just walking for ten minutes until I'm knackered. I need to lose a load of weight before they can even talk about surgery.
That's it, I guess. Will you- yeah, no sorry, you've got your own procedures and stuff. Yeah, I can see myself back to reception. I don't suppose you have any more of those biscuits, do you?
[Statement ends.
Final archivist's notes, dated 05/11/23: The details of Mr Barrett’s statement have been verified as far as possible. There is a record of his move to and employment in Dublin, and while there is not a record of his renting with Mr Alla, there is a record of the existence of a building matching Mr Barrett’s description at the address provided and of the fire Mr Barrett described [see supplemental materials].
There are 17 reports of missing persons logged in Dublin where the missing person had gained a significant amount of weight prior to their disappearance, going back to 1909.
The name Damhán Alla appears in four previous statements, dating back to 1907. We have added the name as a searchable tag to these statements, although none seem to deal directly with him.
In recent follow up interviews with Mr Barrett's family, friends and doctors, it would seem that his weight loss plan has been unsuccessful, and he has gained somewhat more weight since moving back to London. His family and friends have noted that he seems in good spirits, despite his rather unique trauma and ongoing circumstances. His father made a mention of a new hobby - a newfound interest in spiders.]
#weight gain#gaining fiction#gainer fiction#gainer story#weight gain story#male weight gain#wg story#weight gain fiction#the spider to the fly#ive had lots of people mention that whst they like about my stories is how sweet they are#lol anyway here's this#horror fiction
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The porch lights are all turned off, so the glowing from the pool is the only thing illuminating the back yard, and it looks a little eery with the steaming water and the dark forest surrounding them. A little magical too. Like mystic healing waters in a hidden cave. He could see a mermaid surfacing, taking him with her on a new quest.
Huh. Maybe that would be a nice plot point for the next campaign.
Steve is sitting on the steps that connect the terrace to the pool area of the backyard, his back turned to Eddie. He’s smoking, judging from the low glow of a cigarette in the dark. Eddie hasn’t seen Steve smoke since like…his first senior year.
His back looks tense and if he heard Eddie opening the door and stepping outside, he doesn’t show it. Just keeps staring into the distance, hardly moving, only lifting his hand to his lips and taking a shaky drag of the cigarette. He seems anxious and fidgety and it sort of breaks Eddie’s heart.
He sits down next to him. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at him, just joins him there and stares into the distance too. Steve finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the floor next to him.
“You have really bad memories here.” Eddie states it more than he says it. “Upside Down unrelated.” He turns to look at him. “Right?”
Steve lifts his head a tiny fraction, his jaw tense. He looks over at Eddie. Breathes. Looks away again, breathes some more, eyes glued to the floor. Eddie can see tears forming in his eyes. He can also see Steve desperately trying to hide them, force them back.
It doesn’t work.
Then, giving up, Steve just nods.
“Yeah,” he says.
Eddie just watches him for a couple seconds, then redirects his gaze to the pool and shrugs. “I don’t think we should hang out here then.”
Steve immediately scoffs. “Try telling that to the kids.”
“Maybe you really should,” Eddie says after a pause. Steve’s expression turns a little confused.
“What do you mean?” he asks. “I tried. Were you not there?”
“No, I was,” Eddie confirms. “Which is how I know that you’re not really the best at standing up for yourself.”
Now Steve actually looks a little offended.
Eddie sighs. “Just…Look, I know you can’t say no to the little shrimps, but they love you. And if they knew how serious you are about not wanting to hang out here, I’m sure they’d stop pestering you about it.”
“What…what do you expect me to tell them, Eddie?”
Eddie shrugs. “How bout the truth?”
Steve looks at him like he just suggested to paint the moon in a dark shade of pink. “The truth?” he repeats and scoffs again, a little disbelieving this time. “Sure,” he then says, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Sure. Next time, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ll just tell them, in as much detail as possible, about how my father beat me black and blue in every single fucking room of this house and had me scrub my own blood from the banister after he shoved me a little too hard, so, excuse me, if don’t want to spend more time than absolutely necessary here." His voice breaks. "But I just haven’t saved up enough money to move out because, guess what? Having rich parents isn’t all that great when they don’t give a shit about you.”
He tried to make it a big sarcastic speech, but he’s crying by the end of it and Eddie just pulls him against his side, holding him tight. Steve sobs into his chest, curling his arms around Eddie’s back, holding onto him and Eddie’s heart breaks more for him. The boy in his arms is so, so broken, and he’s way too good at hiding it.
“Well, maybe not in those words,” he whispers into Steve’s hair and tries to blink his own tears away, that come at the thought of Steve, soft, sweet, loving and caring Steve, being hurt and hurt and hurt again, by his own parents. And nobody being there to stop it, unlike his mother and Wayne were for Eddie.
Steve clings to Eddie and Eddie just presses him closer, won’t let him go until Steve decides to pull away, softly stroking his back, trying his best to give him comfort.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Steve,” he whispers and when Steve actually detaches his head from Eddie’s chest, pulls away a little and looks at him, Eddie can’t help but gently cup his face in his right hand and wipe one of the remaining tears away.
“S’not your fault,” Steve whispers and Eddie softly shakes his head.
“No, I know,” he says. “But it’s not your fault either.”
Steve takes a deep breath, dodges Eddie’s eyes again.
“I really think you should try talking to them again,” he then tries. Steve immediately turns defensive. “Eddie-”
“No, I just- I mean this is important, you can’t-”
“Eddie, I can’t-”
“You can’t let them just-”
“Don’t make me-”
“You can’t rely on Robin to fend for you all the time, I-”
“Yes, I can, she would-”
“Steve!”
“No, Eddie, what?” Steve looks at him, desperate. “I can’t do it, what do you- what do you want from me?”
He looks so devastated. Eddie pulls him a little closer with the hand still on his cheek. He looks at him. Bites his lip. “I want you to be alright.”
That seems to shut Steve up.
“I care about you, Steve. I care so much.” His left hand slowly reaches for Steve’s hand, grabs it, squeezes it tentatively. “Maybe...even a little too much.”
It’s as far into a confession as he’s gonna go, but Steve understands. Eddie knows. His eyes open and honest.
They’re just staring at each other. Steve squeezes back.
God, they’re so close.
“Do you wanna know one of the reasons?” Steve asks, eyes glassy, voice exhausted. Why is he even prettier, when he cries? It’s unfair to the world but even more unfair to Steve. It shouldn’t look good to be in pain.
“Reasons?” Eddie frowns.
“Why my dad…” Steve shrugs. “Well…why he…did it.”
When Eddie catches onto the words, he softly shakes his head. “Those weren’t reasons, Steve”, he says, his left thumb gently wiping the last remaining tear off of Steve’s cheek. “Those were excuses.”
Steve leans even more into Eddie’s touch and closes his eyes. He sighs. “Either way.”
Eddie waits until Steve opens his eyes again, looking at him expectantly.
“Why?”
Steve smiles, but it’s still sad. Eddie can see him swallow.
“Because of this,” Steve whispers, his left hand curling around Eddie’s. “Because I like kissing boys.”
For whatever reason, Eddie isn’t surprised. Not that Steve ‘likes kissing boys’ at least. He is surprised, however, at how similar he phrased it. For a second Eddie’s thrown back, to more than five years ago, when he, with tears on his face and an ice pack pressed against his busted lip, confessed to Wayne that maybe the rumors about him weren’t that wrong after all. That it wasn’t true when they called him gay or a fag, not fully at least, because he liked girls, he kissed one just last week and he enjoyed it, he did, he swore.
“But I just sort of…like kissing boys too.”
“Ed, my boy,” Wayne told him back then and pulled him into an awkward but warm hug. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Steve,” Eddie breathes and takes Steve’s face in both of his hands to make him look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Steve’s eyes are still glazed and he’s still so pretty it hurts and he slowly bites down on his lip, which- unfair, if you ask Eddie. So unfair.
“Are you sure?” Steve asks and it seems almost as if he’s not asking about the kissing thing anymore. Well, yes, but in a different context. His gaze falls down onto Eddie’s lips and Eddie has to take a sharp breath.
“Oh, I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Eddie replies, his voice barely above a whisper and Steve’s lips pull into a hesitant, soft smile before he shifts a little closer.
“So you…you won’t mind, if I-”
He’s cut off by Eddie kissing him. Steve melts into it, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer, the other fisting the fabric of Eddie's shirt. Eddie kisses Steve deeper, softly hums into it and he can feel Steve letting himself go.
Steve feels safe with him, Eddie realizes.
It almost makes him wanna cry.
When they break apart, they just stare at each other for a second. Still close, Eddie’s hands still cupping Steve's face, Steve’s still in Eddie’s curls and shirt.
“This,” Steve says, a little breathless, which- what? Eddie caused that? “This is certainly a good memory."
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robins out of town btw#so she's not there to argue for steve#and this is the first time they all hung out at steves#and only eddie realizes the discomfort on steves face
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credits to the gif maker!
LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IV
summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.
pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.
word count: 7.2k
warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst (heavy on this i'm sorry in advance) cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!
a/n: hi everyone! yes yes i know i disappeared for like 5 months but let's pretend i didn't. i've seen all of your messages and comments and i'm overwhelmed with all the love you've shown to the previous parts. thank you so much to everyone who likes, reblogs and leaves a kind message, i see you and love u. here's a new lil chapter, i hope you enjoy it. happy reading!!
February 28th, 2019
Cort Theater, NY
The day was here. The day he had been eagerly waiting on for months. The anticipation had been building up, and now he was finally going to perform in front of a live audience for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The months of rehearsals and hard work had all led up to this moment, and he was ready to give it his all.
He was starring in the new Broadway production of “King Lear" as Edmond, one of the play's most complex and intriguing characters. The role had challenged him in ways he had never experienced before, pushing him to delve deep into the character's motivations and emotions. As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and a sense of purpose.
And just like that, three hours and twenty-five minutes later, the final curtain fell on the play. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, their standing ovation a testament to their incredible performance. Exhausted but exhilarated, he knew he had given everything he had to the role and left it all on the stage.
His mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The rush of adrenaline slowly subsided, and as much as he wanted to hear what everyone thought of his performance, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to him right now: yours.
The last time he saw you was on your last day in Chile, almost two months ago. He vividly remembered the bittersweet farewell outside his family's house—you getting into the car and him closing the door. A door that seemed to separate their worlds. Since then, they had kept in touch through messages and occasional video calls, but it wasn't the same. Of course it wasn't. It will never be.
The distance between them had only fueled his longing, making him yearn for your presence even more. Constantly trying to derail his one-track mind.
He knows you're here. He had invited his siblings and closest friends. However, he was unsure of your attendance until an hour before the show, when he received a text from Oscar:
"She's coming with me. Stop pacing and good luck."
He hadn't really discussed what happened back in Chile with Oscar or anyone, for that matter, but he could tell everyone knew something was off about how the two of you interacted. So when he got the message from Oscar, instead of freaking out about him potentially finding out about you two, he felt relieved.
It gave him comfort to know that Oscar knew him so well that he was aware of the fact that you were the cause of his two-hour pacing in his dressing room. It was also fucking stupid and laughable.
The energy backstage was electric as he walked through the bustling crowd of crew members and performers. He entered his dressing room, grabbing his phone and immediately seeing all the texts from friends and his siblings. He opened one from Javiera: "Felicidades, hermanito! Killed it. See you at The Terrace."
They had planned on getting together afterwards to celebrate. He replied with a grateful smile, saying he'd be there in a few and to get there without him. He quickly changed into a more casual outfit: dark jeans and a comfortable white t-shirt. Wanting to unwind after the intense performance, he made his way to the restaurant. It was only a few blocks away from the theater, so he decided to enjoy the pleasant evening weather and take a leisurely stroll.
Once he got there and stepped out of the elevator, Pedro watched you from across the room. A delicate hand rested on Oscar's shoulder as you chatted and laughed together. He felt a bubble of pride in himself swell; it warmed him to know that you were enjoying yourself and having a good time.
He felt like an intruder in your intimate moment, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. At least I don't have to miss her anymore because she's right there, he thought.
Pedro made his way across the room, trying to appear nonchalant as he approached the table.
"There he is! the man of the hour," Oscar said, a wide smile spreading across his face.
You turned. Eyes meeting, and it was like a car crash. A collision of emotions and memories flooding back all at once. The air between you crackled with unresolved tension, and Pedro's heart raced as he struggled to find the right words to say.
"You came," he said, his voice stern. Not reflecting at all the turmoil inside him. "Thank you."
"Well, you called," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as well. Deep down, though, your heart was pounding just as fast as Pedro's.
Everyone seemed to ignore the palpable tension in the room and how he was losing his mind over these unclear conversations between your glances, carrying on with their congratulatory words to Pedro as if nothing had happened. But for Pedro and you, time stood still.
People settled into an easy conversation, enjoying each other's company as the night went on. As the night went on, Pedro and you exchanged occasional glances, silently acknowledging the shared secret that lingered. He wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs: We slept together! We slept together, and I loved it! He wanted every single person in New York to hear it. To feel the exhilaration and passion that consumed him.
However, to say it was to make it real, and Pedro wasn't quite ready to face the consequences of that reality just yet. He knew his place in her life. He knew it was better this way. However, the ever-present question of 'Is it better to have something and lose it than never have it at all?' haunted his mind.
The laughter and chatter around you provided a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within both of you. After a couple drinks, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and Pedro found himself engaging in lighthearted conversations with the people around him.
"Ah, man. I need a cigarrette," he said to Oscar, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.
"Go, go. I'll keep everyone entertained," Oscar replied with a smile, gesturing towards the lively crowd. Pedro nodded gratefully and stepped outside, the cool night air providing a brief respite from the chaos of his thoughts. As he lit his cigarette and took a long drag, he couldn't help but wonder if the temporary escape it offered was worth the potential consequences.
"I thought you quit," you remarked, slowly making your way to him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Pedro turned and exhaled a cloud of smoke, a wistful expression crossing his face. "I did, but you know me. I have a hard time letting go of old habits," he admitted, flicking the ash off his cigarette.
"Care to share?" you asked, gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes in his hand. Pedro hesitated for a moment.
"No."
"No?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't want to be the reason you get lung cancer."
You chuckled. "Ok, so you can do it, but I can't. Got it."
"I'm old; there's no use," he said with a shrug. "However, you have a whole life ahead of you."
"You make it sound like you're on a deathbed," you teased, taking a playful jab at Pedro's dramatic statement. He smirked and took a long drag from his cigarette before responding. "Maybe I am, in a way. But hey, we all gotta go someday, right?"
"That's...dark," you sighed. "mind if we changed the subject?"
"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" Pedro asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Anything to distract me from my impending doom," he added with a smirk.
A laugh escaped your lips as you thought of a lighter topic. "How about we discuss your play?" Pedro's eyes lit up at the suggestion, momentarily forgetting about his earlier morbid thoughts.
"How are you feeling about your performance?"
Pedro looked at you for a little too long before finally responding, "It's funny I'm thinking about death because I've never felt more alive than on that stage."
"I could tell. I thought you were great, P."
He shook his head modestly. "Thanks, but I still feel like there's room for improvement. I want to push myself even further in the next shows."
"I get that."
Pedro watched you stare at the ground. His thoughts began to conspire against him, and as he was about to speak, you also looked up and opened your mouth at the same time. Words rushed out in unison.
You both paused, realizing you had interrupted each other. Pedro chuckled tentatively and motioned for you to go ahead. "Sorry, you first," he said with a polite smile.
You bit your lip, seemingly trying to gather your thoughts. "It's nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'll be in Europe for awhile. I got the Nolan movie."
"Woah, another one?"
"Yup. The role isn't as big as in interstellar, but I love working with him so much I couldn't pass up the opportunity." Pedro nodded, a mix of excitement and disappointment flickering across his face. "That's amazing; congratulations. I'm sure you'll do great, as always," he said sincerely. "I'll definitely miss having you around, though."
"Well, it's not like it'll be much different than now," you replied. "I haven't seen you since...since you know," your expression turned somber, cheeks flushed.
You were right. He was so busy with the play and his new role in the second installment of Wonder Woman that he barely had any time. He even had to cut back on his time on set for The Mandalorian reshoots this month and a few scenes for a second season that haven't even been announced.
"Yeah, I know."
"Should we talk about it?"
"I mean, there's nothing to talk about, really," Pedro said with a shrug, not daring to look you in the eye. "We slept together, and we both agreed that was it. No need to complicate things further." he tried to maintain a casual tone, but his voice wavered slightly.
Pedro wanted to scream. The nicotine clouding his lungs was the only thing keeping him from losing control. It seemed like all he was left with was a painful reminder of what could have been. He looked at you as he took another puff of smoke. Your eyes clearly searching for a trace of emotion in his face, but finding none.
A droplet of rain landed on Pedro's cheek as he inhaled deeply, feeling the coolness against his skin. It was as if the universe was reflecting his inner turmoil, adding to the weight of his unspoken words. He watched as you looked up at the darkening sky, the raindrops falling steadily on your hair.
The sound of thunder echoed in the distance, mirroring the storm brewing within him. He dropped the cigarrette from his hand, its ember extinguished by the rain.
"Isn't that the point of love, though?" you finally responded, your voice raspy and drunk with bitterness and resignation. "To complicate things, to make us question everything, to drive us to the brink of madness. Maybe it's not meant to be simple, Pedro."
His body tensed up, and your words clearly struck a nerve. The weight of your statement hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you both. It was no secret that his perspective on love had been tainted by past experiences, leaving him guarded and unwilling to let go of his pain.
"You're right. Which is why I would rather stay away from it. I've seen firsthand the havoc it can wreak on people's lives," Pedro admitted, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. He knows he's hurting you; he can see it by the way your eyes glisten with unshed tears.
"So that's it, then?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Is this how it is always going to be?"
But he can't risk it. "I thought we were on the same page with this."
He sees how your jaw tightens at his statement. He knows he's hurting you. He's twisting the knife even deeper. He can't seem to stop just because he believes it's for the better.
Please know it's for the better.
"Yeah, I guess it's better this way," you spat back, your voice filled with anger. Of course, you could tell exactly how he was feeling.
"Guys! What the fuck are you doing outside? It's fucking pouring!" A friend shouts from the doorway. "Get inside!"
You both stood there staring at each other, momentarily forgetting the rain pouring down around you.
“Yeah. What the fuck are we doing?" you say, not even trying to mask the anger in your voice.
He wants to reach out and kiss you. Kiss you so hard that his lips would bruise. Kiss you so hard that your pain will fade away. But that action would go against everything he had just said.
So he just watches you turn around and leave.
What the fuck is he doing?
3 months later
After weeks of shooting in the United Kingdom and the Amalfi Coast, you and the crew finally had a couple of days off. Aaron, John, and Rob had the brilliant idea to take a quick trip to Monaco.
“It’s a Grand Prix weekend,” Aaron said excitedly. “Maybe if we make a few calls, we could still snag some passes.”
“Doesn’t that start this week?” Rob inquired, taking a sip of his drink. Ever since your arrival in Italy, the four of you finally got the chance to eat dinner together at a nice restaurant.
“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron waved his hands in the air, “but if we leave tomorrow, there’s plenty of time to get there and enjoy ourselves.”
You were so focused on your meal that you missed the sound of your name coming from Aaron’s mouth. “Hellooo?” he continued, and you looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you friends with Lewis Hamilton?”
“Yeah. Well, I mean, we see each other sometimes at events and stuff. He’s really nice,” you tell him, still feeling a bit distracted.
“Could you maybe give him a call and get us those passes?” he asks, pouting like a puppy. John laughs at him, hitting him lightly on the arm.
“Sure, I can try,” you reply, feeling a bit hesitant. You rarely ask for special favors and don't want to come across as entitled, even more so when you haven't spoken to Lewis in so long.
“Yes!” Aaron celebrates by raising his fists. "Um, one more thing,"
“Mate, you’re pushing it now,” Rob remarks with a playful tone. You can tell he's enjoying the banter between you and Aaron.
“Go on,” you gesture at him to continue, a smile on your face.
“Could we also use your PP?”
“Use her what now?” John exclaims. Laughter erupts from Rob's mouth, making you and John join in.
“Her private plane, mate!” Aaron says, embarrassed.
“Yes, Aaron,” you get out, still laughing. “I’ll let you use my PP.”
"Thank you!"
•••
The flight to Monaco was smooth and quick. You spent most of it trying to focus on a script for a project after this one while the boys all slept. After your dinner last night, you made two calls: one to Lewis to ask about the passes and one to your publicist to let her know about your last-minute adventure.
Lewis was very nice as usual and said that, of course, he can get you the passes, while your agent said attending an F1 weekend would be good publicity and good fun. A win-win situation, she called it. She also said that since you were going to attend the race, you might as well attend all the events that come with it, which meant she had to fly in to assist you.
By the time the plane finally landed and you made it to the hotel, you were worn out. You spent the rest of the afternoon and night sleeping, without a care in the world. The next day, soft knocks on the door woke you up.
"It's me," Taylor's voice called out.
You groggily got out of bed and opened the door to find her standing there with her laptop, a cup of coffee, and a huge smile on her face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."
Although you hadn't passed a mirror on your way to answer the door, you had the feeling that you didn't look visually appealing at the moment. Your body ached, like you wrestled with a wild animal all night and lost.
"Did you just get here?" you ask her, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. She smiles and shakes her head. "I got here late last night, but you weren't answering the phone, so I called Renata instead, and she said you were sleeping. And like the great person I am, I let you rest." Renata is your PA/publicist, a great friend, and one of the two constants in your life, along with Taylor.
"Wow, so kind of you," you say sarcastically, but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Come in."
As Taylor enters, you shut the door behind her. She scans the space in fascination. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall that run the length of the room and the wall to your left, which is behind the dining room table. A broad view of the harbor can be seen between the sheer, white, fluttering lengths of the floating curtains.
"Gorgeous suite," she says, sitting on the plush sofa across the room.
"Ren always chooses the best rooms, so yes," you tell her, sinking once again into your warm bed.
"You're still tired? You've slept for like 16 hours already," she chuckles, pouring herself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher on the side table. "I know, but I guess the jetlag is hitting me harder than I thought," you reply with a yawn, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of the fragrant flowers on the nightstand.
"You didn't come to Monaco to sleep, did you?" Taylor chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Yes?"
"No! We have a full itinerary planned for today, starting with breakfast at Café de Paris across the street with the boys. And then we're off to the Hotel de Paris for a F1 brunch event. There will be lots of food, drinks, and hot guys. Specifically, hot F1 drivers," you groan-laugh inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out of bed so early for the sake of hot guys. "You know that's the last thing on my mind, right?"
"Well, not on mine!" she replies with a wink. "But seriously, it's not just about the eye candy. The event is also for a good cause, raising funds for a local charity. And it's also a great place to network and meet new people—you know the drill." You nod in agreement, feeling more motivated to attend, knowing that it's for a meaningful purpose.
With a determined sigh, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'll shower."
"Let me call Renata and tell her to prep the car and get the glam team in here."
"Thank you," you tell her, disappearing into the bathroom.
•••
Two hours later, you find yourself entering the venue of a charity event with your very impatient and rather enthusiastic co-star and best friend, Aaron. The venue is buzzing with excitement as you take in the elegant decorations and the well-dressed attendees. Since it's Monaco in May, you're sporting a light blue strapless top and white linen pants that complement the warm weather and the sophisticated atmosphere of the event.
"I can't believe Rob and John sat this one out because they were 'too tired', Aaron remarks, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Well, they don't have the energy of a 5-year-old, unlike you," you tease, playfully nudging him. "But hey, more champagne for us," you add with a mischievous grin as you grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "Cheers."
The bubbles tickle your nose as you take a sip, savoring the crisp and refreshing taste.
Camera flashes illuminate the room as people mingle and engage in lively conversations. You're stopped every 5 minutes by someone wanting to take a picture with you. You oblige every time with a smile, posing for each photo and exchanging pleasantries. After all, that's why you're here for.
Everything was going smoothly until someone bumped into you, causing you to spill champagne all over your clothes. The cold liquid seeps mostly through the fabric of your top, leaving a sticky sensation against your skin.
"Oh, my bad," you hear a thick Australian accent apologize. You turn to see a rather tall, tan-skinned, handsome man with a sheepish grin on his face. Did you say how handsome he was? And what the fuck was he smiling for?
Once he realizes who you are, his eyes widen in surprise and anguish. People start noticing the commotion and turn their attention towards the two of you. The man quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the crowd, his grip firm but gentle.
"Hey! Where are you taking me!" you protest, trying to free your arm from his grasp. His grip tightens slightly, but he maintains a calm demeanor as he leads you towards a quieter corner. As you reach a bathroom, he finally releases his hold on you and takes a step back, his expression filled with concern.
"Relax, I'm not kidnapping you."
The chaos around you fades into the background as he shuts the door and starts grabbing paper towels. "Shit, here," he says, handing you one. "Sorry for ruining your clothes."
You start wiping the spilled drink off your clothes, a little annoyed at the inconvenience. You can feel his gaze burning into you without looking.
"Do ya want me to give you mine?" he offers, gesturing towards his own shirt. "It might be a bit big on you, but at least it's dry." he pauses, waiting for your response.
You stare at him. "And what? you're going to walk around shirtless?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles. "Yeah, I have a banging body, so I'll just be doing everybody here a favor here, really," he replies with a smirk.
You roll your eyes at his cocky remark. "I think I'll manage without your shirt, thanks," you say sarcastically. "But I appreciate the offer."
He laughs as he observes you. "Okay, then let me find another way to make it up to you."
"There's no need."
"Do you have plans tonight?"
"I'm fine."
"Does 7 p.m. sound good to you?"
"Listen—"
"Where are you staying?"
"I don't even know you."
"It's Daniel."
"Okay, Daniel. I don't know you, so no."
"But you could," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. "And who knows, it could be the start of something new."
"Are you quoting High School Musical to me?"
"Hey, it's a classic. And it was right there."
You chuckle, unable to resist his charm. Something lights up in his eyes.
"Listen, I won't push you anymore. It's up to you. Can't blame me for trying, though." you raise an eyebrow, considering his words.
"I'm going to go now," you tell him, pointing at the door.
He nods understandingly. "See ya later."
•••
After about 30 more minutes of indulging everyone in conversation and enjoying the party, Lewis Hamilton finds you. "Hi sweetie, there you are," he greets you, ever so polite. "I heard chatter that you were here. I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow's practice sessions."
"Oh yeah, but you know duty calls," you say with a smile as you lean in to hug him. "It's so nice to see you. Thanks again for the passes."
"Oh, it's nothing. You would've gotten them without me, but I'm glad you called me instead. How have you been enjoying Monaco so far?"
"Good, good—" you begin, but before you can finish your sentence, a burst of laughter you recognize from earlier erupts from across the room. "Actually, do you happen to know him?" you ask Lewis, gesturing with your head towards the source of laughter. Daniel is joyfully engaged in conversation with a group of people. Lewis follows your gaze and chuckles, "Ah, that's Daniel Ricciardo. He's a fellow Formula 1 driver and quite the character, to be honest. He's a cool dude."
"Huh," is all you manage to say as you watch Daniel animatedly tell a story, his infectious laughter filling the room.
"What are we looking at?" Renata and Aaron find you and join the conversation; their curiosity is piqued.
"Nothing," you quickly respond. Renata immediately caught on to your evasive response and followed your gaze. "Oh, Daniel?" she exclaims, voice hushed and her eyes glinting with excitement.
"Wait, you know who he is?"
"I did my homework on the plane. He drives for Renault, and he looks great doing it."
Lewis and Aaron chuckle at Renata's enthusiasm, sharing in her excitement. "I think Renata will be watching a few races from now on," Lewis remarks, causing everyone to laugh. Renata shrugs, a proud smile on her face. "Trust me, I will, but not for him. Have you heard of Charles Leclerc?"
You're still staring at Daniel, dumbfounded. Wheels are turning in your mind.
Aaron's voice interrupts your thoughts. "So...why are we still staring at him?"
"I'm going on a date with him tonight."
Your own declaration surprises you.
"Wait, you are?" both of your friends say in unison, their eyes widening with curiosity.
"Yes," you say, setting down your drink. "You guys ready to go now?"
They nodded, not wanting to press further but clearly intrigued by this, and you said your goodbyes to Lewis, promising to see him on Friday at the track. As you made your way to the exit, you grabbed Daniel by the arm and pulled him aside.
"Hotel Hermitage, 7 p.m., Room 303. Don't be late," you whispered, voice calm and steady. Daniel's mouth curled into a smile, but he maintained his composure and nodded, a feeling of excitement in his gaze. With a final pat on his shoulder, you rejoined your friends and headed out of the venue, eager for the evening ahead.
•••
You don't know what the hell you were thinking when you said yes. You could feel your anxiety building as the time approached—face flushed, stomach twisting in knots. James and Liz, your hair and makeup team, paused, laying out brushes and curling wands. "Everything okay, love?" James asked. "You want us out?"
"No, keep going. You're almost done, anyway. I'm just internally freaking out a little."
"You're great and look beautiful," Liz replied. "There's nothing to worry about."
You give her a tight smile and try to believe her words, but the nagging doubts continue to linger in the back of your mind. As the final touches are applied, you take a deep breath and say your goodbyes to them.
"Good luck and have fun!" James says as Liz winks at you and closes the door. You chuckle at their enthusiasm. You walk back into the bedroom and pick up the black cocktail dress hanging on the closet door. The soft fabric feels comforting against your fingertips as you slip it on. The dress hugs your curves perfectly, accentuating your best features. You grab your clutch and check yourself in the mirror one last time.
A knock on the door startles you. "Coming!"
Breathe, you remind yourself.
"Wow," Daniel says with a warm smile. "You look absolutely stunning. Are you ready to go?"
You're sure your face must look like a tomato as you thank Daniel for the compliment.
"Yes, let's."
As you reach the entrance of the hotel, Daniel hands the valet a ticket, and he opens the door of his car for you. "My lady," he says with a playful bow. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you step into the very flashy luxury car. For an F1 driver, you didn't expect anything less. The soft leather seats hug your body as you settle in, and the sleek interior design adds to the overall opulence of the vehicle. Daniel starts the engine, and the car glides smoothly onto the road.
"Where are you taking me?"
He looks at you with a mischevious grin plastered on his face. "My friend Max is throwing a yatch party tonight, and I thought it would be the perfect way to spend the night," he says, revving the engine slightly. "But I intend to dine and wine you before we head there."
"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, "Nice."
"Still playing hard to get?"
You shrug and give him a grin.
"That's alright. I enjoy a good challenge," he replies, his eyes sparkling. "But I have a feeling that by the end of the week, you won't be able to resist my charm." He winks at you.
"You're quite confident, aren't you?" you say, raising an eyebrow. "But don't underestimate my ability to resist." You smirk back at him, ready to prove him wrong.
The car pulls up to the entrance of the restaurant, and you both step out onto the bustling street. You make your way inside. "Oh, I've been here before," you say lowly, feeling a little satisfied that it is something you've experienced already, so it's harder for him to impress you.
You couldn't have been more wrong, though.
The hostess greets you with a warm smile and leads you to the main dining area. As you follow her, you can't help but notice it's....empty. Not a single table is occupied. The dimly lit room feels intimate and cozy, with soft music playing in the background and red roses adorning each table.
The hostess gestures towards a table in the middle of the room. "The waiter will be with you shortly," she says before leaving you alone.
You turn around, facing Daniel. "Did you rent out the entire restaurant for us?" you ask, slightly surprised. Daniel chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I just made a reservation for a quiet evening," he replies.
"You're an awful liar."
"I just saw how hectic everything was for you this morning, with all the pictures and people clamoring for your attention. I wanted to give you a break from that and create a peaceful vibe for us to enjoy tonight," Daniel explains, his eyes filled with sincerity.
You smile. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."
"I have my moments."
The night continues with the two of you enjoying the delicious food and engaging in fun and light conversation. The peaceful atmosphere allows you both to relax and truly connect with each other.
Just what you needed but didn't realize until now.
"You're literally always smiling," you tell him. In the very short time you've known Daniel, there's something constant about him: his distinctive smile. Daniel chuckles and replies, "It's amazing what surgery can do. Formula 1 pays really well, and I was able to put a lot of that money into permanent smile surgery."
You burst out laughing. "Well, they did a great job," you say, still chuckling.
•••
You glided arm in arm onto the yatch, dry martinis in hand and a revolving stream of waitstaff to refill your drinks as soon as they emptied. You feel more relaxed and comfortable now. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine you had at dinner and the drink that's currently in your hand, or maybe it was the contagious laughter and carefree attitude of your date.
Cote d'Azur was a smooth wash of precious stones at this time of year. The ocean's deep, smoky blue stretched out like a shiny carpet. Loud music blasted from the speakers, and the upper deck was transformed into a vibrant dance floor with people spinning and swaying to the beat.
You wished you could rest your head on Daniel's shoulder without looking like you were already drunk.
He excitedly introduced you to his friends, who instantly made you feel like part of their tight-knit circle. As the night progressed, you found yourself effortlessly blending in.
"So how did this insufferable clown manage to take you out on a date?" Max asked, his voice loud over the booming music.
You shared a brief glance with Daniel. "He spilled champagne all over me."
"And then she couldn't help but fall for my charming personality and good looks," Daniel interjected with a playful grin.
"Yes, that's exactly what happened."
Daniel puts a hand on your lower back, and you mindlessly lean into his touch. "You wanna go outside for a bit?"
The need for some fresh air and a break from the crowded room causes you to hum in agreement. You leaned over and observed the white waves as they cut through the water as you came across a section of railing near the stern of the yatch.
The sound of the waves crashing against the yacht provided a soothing soundtrack to your conversation. As you leaned against the railing, Daniel's playful banter continued.
"Are you having fun?"
"Very much so," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"So I'm winning sooner than I thought I would."
"Winning what exactly, Daniel?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "The game of enjoying this beautiful yacht ride? Then yes, I suppose you are."
He laughed, but it wasn't his usual boisterous laugh. It was a softer, more genuine sound that made your heart flutter.
He came closer. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"
As he leaned in, you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. His eyes were locked with yours.
"You're falling for me," he whispered, his voice husky. The words sent a shiver down your spine, confirming what you had been trying to deny for the past hour or so. Not because you didn't find him charming or attractive, but because you felt like you were betraying the person who broke your heart months ago.
How can someone break your heart if it wasn't theirs to begin with?
You push back those thoughts.
The playful banter that played out all night faded into the background as a new energy filled the air, sparking a connection between the two of you that was impossible to ignore.
You give in.
"You think?"
He nods, his eyes dark. Your hands were encircling his neck, one at the nape of his neck and the other against the side, where you could feel his heart pounding beneath the pads of your fingers. Your fingers scraped at bristled hairs as you held onto his curls, and you enjoyed the feel of them rubbing against the pads of your fingers. You were tightly gripping him in your hands, not allowing even a millimeter to pass.
Daniel couldn’t decide where to touch you. You huffed a breath against his mouth as the lightest of touches - the barest featherweight of fingertips, like your skin was made of silk, traced along the curve of your jawline. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his touch. His fingers continued their exploration, trailing down the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake.
He had pressed you against the railing at your back with no warning, and you felt the firm pressure of it. And now you arose from it, attempting to cling to every bone-hard surface of Daniel's body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that consumed all rational thought.
"People are watching," you whispered breathlessly, breaking the kiss reluctantly. Daniel's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and mischief. He smirked, his hand sliding down your waist possessively.
"Let them."
You were so fucked.
•••
You’d barely been able to breathe these past couple of days with events and rendezvous with Daniel consuming your every waking moments. It was fast paced and you found yourself completely swept up in the whirlwind of emotions. He was showing you his world and you were willingly diving headfirst into it.
It was Saturday morning, which meant is qualifying day and despite all of the media commitments and preparation that Daniel had to do, he’d promised breakfast as a way to make up for it. So here you were at a cafe only a short walk from the circuit, chewing your way through a delicious stack of pancakes while Daniel sipped on his coffee.
It felt oddly comforting to be sitting there with him. He was a stranger to you just a few days ago, but now he feels like a familiar presence. The conversations flowed effortlessly between you; he was funny, attentive, and attentive, but most importantly, he wasn't afraid of showing you off and telling you how much he liked you.
From the moment you crossed paths, he showed interest in you and made an effort. You haven't questioned whether he genuinely liked you or not. It was nice to be with someone who didn't play games or hide their feelings.
Your mind has also found a new way to torture you: whenever you felt happy with Daniel, a nagging voice in the back of your head would remind you of him.
Him. Him. Him.
You couldn't even say or think of his name. It was too much.
And yes, you were content, but you couldn't help but think about it.
The first time you tasted Daniel's lips, you were let down it wasn't the same. That feeling of disappointment lingered, but as days passed, it dissipated more and more. Maybe one day it'll be gone completely, you thought.
"So let me get this straight," you say, putting your fork and knife down on the plate. "You were on your way to winning in 2016, but a pit stop error cost you the race?"
Daniel nods. "It haunted me for so long. I couldn't shake off the frustration."
You grab your coffee and lean back on the chair, listening intently. "It was very dark. I should've been happy because I was on the podium in Monaco, and that's huge, but I was miserable. The whole time, all I wanted to do was smash everything to pieces and scream, which is something you do not want to do in front of Monaco royalty, by the way."
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Daniel's emotional upheaval. This was clearly a pivotal moment for him. "So, what finally helped you move past that?" you ask, curious to hear his response.
"Well," Daniel begins, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won last year."
"Yeah, that'll do it."
You both laugh, and he places a hand on your knee beneath the table. "But honestly," he continues, his voice softening. "It wasn't just about winning. It was about proving to myself that I could overcome my own limitations and achieve greatness."
"So...winning basically," you respond, teasingly.
"See, I wanted to be humble about it, but let's be real, winning felt pretty damn good," Daniel admits with a sheepish grin. "I love winning."
You snort in amusement, "Well, I guess a little bit of bragging rights never hurt anyone."
You two carry on with your meals. His left hand still on your knee, and the air filled with contentment.
•••
While Daniel returned from the qualifying weigh-in, you waited at the back of the garage. You had gradually gotten to know the Renault team over the previous two days. Everyone, from the mechanics to the media team, has been friendly and welcoming to you. You're still trying to decide whether it's because of Daniel, your status, or that they were just nice. Pretty sure it was all three.
You were aware that it would be best for you to stay out of the way as the team worked and the broadcasting teams were filming in and around the pit lane, but you were unable to hide in Daniel's prep room. At the back of the garage, you found a calm area where you could watch the busy activity without being a nuisance.
You were aware that, although you might have been in the VIP sections, you couldn't be that far away from him. You were able to feel more connected to Daniel and the team's spirit by spending time in the garage.
The phone had been ringing nonstop all day in the back pocket of your pants; the screen frequently flashed with new notifications from your social media accounts or texts or calls from friends and family. You were aware that the countless pictures of Daniel and you parading through Monaco were the root of the problem.
It was truly a sight to behold to be watching him race around the track and walk around the paddock.
He was in his element.
"You look cute, baby," he says, referring to the oversized headseat on your head. His face flushed from the heat, and yours from the compliment. His hair was messy and a little damp from sweat, evidence of the intense racing. He looked perfect.
Fuck.
He leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against yours, electricity rushing through you.
Fuck.
"I think you're winning," you say, your eyes fixed on him.
"Aw, that's sweet of you, baby, but I didn't qualify that great," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"That's not what I meant."
His face is puzzled for a moment before realization dawns on him. He smirks, his signature smile spreading across his face. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.
"Yeah," you say, barely above a whisper, your eyes never leaving his.
"I told you so," he replies, his voice filled with confidence and pride.
"Shut up," you say playfully before kissing him again.
Fuck.
You were falling for him.
a/n: oh oh pedro...someone's stealing your girl. are you guys team pedro or team daniel?
Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)
#happy october 1st 🎃#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fluff
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Kanye West, legally known as Ye, is selling the Malibu, California home he ruined, for $53M (He bought it for $57M). The house was designed by one of the world’s most eminent architects, Tadao Ando, and Ye stripped it clean of windows, doors, electrical, and many of the architect’s signature interior finishes.
Sitting since 2021, the mansion is now rotting. Wait. This is $53M for a cement shell, basically. The brutalist style home has 1,200 tons of poured concrete and 200 tons of steel reinforcement to hold it all together with 12- 60 ft. pylons sunk into the sand.
The beachside house was once the epitome of artistic ingenuity.
The floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water have long been removed, leaving the rear of the building entirely open to the elements.
All of the interior photos are before it was gutted. The alleged plan was to try to turn the mansion into a “Bat Cave” so he could “hide from the Clintons and Kardashians.”
Ye’s new celebrity realtor believes the renovations are a selling point b/c he left a blank canvas, making it easier for the new owners to design the home exactly to their liking.
The house needs windows and doors, along with plumbing, electrical, HVAC and interior finishes, b/c they've all been removed.
Although Ye removed the interior finishes, “this creates an unbelievably rare opportunity to buy a Picasso on the water," said the agent.
“This architect is known for his concrete work, which is what remains,” he says, "It was a very minimalist interior previously and will likely continue to be that in order to allow the architecture to speak louder than the finishes.”
The plan was to go off grid. The contractor said, “Ye wanted no electricity. He only wanted plants, candles, battery lights; and to have everything open and dark. You can’t keep food in that house, because you had no refrigerator left. You had no windows. I had seagulls flying in.”
The former architectural tour de force was only one of the few private homes in the United States designed by the renowned Pritzker Prize-winning Japanese architect. Best known for his minimalist structures and “smooth-as-silk” concrete.
The upper-level terrace pictured here comes out from a main bedroom suite that takes up the entire top floor.
I don't know what to think. Everything is gone- no utilities, none of the original elements the architect is known for, not even any windows. And, he's only knocked off $4M from what he paid for it, complete.
It's rotting from the inside out. Here's a collapsed concrete wall and rusted railings. On top of all of this, it's unsafe b/c concrete is falling. It's like a total knockdown.
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Rachel Daly x Reader
New to the Neighbourhood
AN: Inspired by a conversation with @hernightsky over these photos 🫶
Pulling up on the driveway you took a moment to look up at the house in front of you before getting out, soaking up the moment you were finally moving in to your first home. You felt excited but a little overwhelmed with how quickly everything had happened and now you’re on your own, no more mum and dad there to help you 24/7 but you knew they would only be a phone call away. You’ve never lived by yourself before and now you have an entire building to play with! You had chosen a new build and had been involved with all the decisions regarding furnishing the property before you moved in; it was in a new residential area, a close with terraced houses in a square around the cul-de-sac. Everyone had brightly coloured flowers in their garden, wreaths on the front door and the neighbours seemed super friendly when you came for viewings.
“Smile!” shouted your mum suddenly jolting you out of your daydreaming about where you were going to put everything, spinning around you grabbed the SOLD sign out of the ground and held it excitedly for a photo in front of your home before slotting the key into the front door for the first time. Your parents immediately created a line from the van to the doorstep - your dad unloaded, your mum ferried and you put the boxes in the rooms they belonged in. Neighbours came and went wishing you well while welcoming you to the neighbourhood, one even made you cups of tea as you hadn’t found the kettle yet.. you knew you were gonna love it here. Your parents stayed overnight to help you unpack and settle in, the next day they left after helping you set up your bills and direct debits. You ordered a food shop and got to work with putting your own stamp on the property, driving to a homeware store and picking up the paint and wallpaper you’ve had your eyes on for months.
Sitting in the middle of your newly painted bedroom you worked well into the early morning to finish, you started to remove the rollers from your hair when you heard a familiar rattle outside. “Shit!” scrambling to your feet and throwing your robe on, you swiped the rubbish from the surfaces into a black sack and desperately tried to make sure you got outside before the bin men left, throwing the front door open in a hurry to see they had already turned the corner and were driving away. “Fuck!” you shouted into the morning sun, annoyed that you hadn’t thought to check when the rubbish was collected beforehand. Hearing a cackle come from a distance you squinted to see who was laughing at you, “they come every week yknow!” a sarcastic voice called from the other side of the close, shielding your eyes from the sun to see a figure standing in their driveway. “Yeah” you replied begrudgingly with a limp smile and a roll of your eyes, throwing the bag to the side of your garden before making a deflated walk back into your house. As soon as the door slammed shut your reasoning returned - your neighbour was right, they do come every week, no need to be upset about it.. it just felt like you failed your first task at being a home owner. Your dad always used to take the rubbish out, it was something you didn’t have to think about and it’s not your fault you didn’t know what day it was.
Calling out to Alexa to play your favourite radio station your anger soon floated away with the sunrise as you finished doing your hair and make up, hanging clothes in your wardrobe and picking an outfit out for tonight. Your friends were coming over for a house warming party and you had been keen for it to be a gathering with not too many people, you didn’t want your carpets getting ruined already! But your friends insisted they had to christen the moment the first of the friend group moved out of their parent’s house. You’d been saving up since you were 18 and because England has awful mortgage rules it had taken you over a decade to finally get enough for a deposit. So they’re right, you do deserve to be celebrated! This is a milestone not everyone achieves in their lifetime and you had worked incredibly hard to get here, especially on your own!
Turning up the music you danced around your near on empty house, cracking open a bottle of wine and finally feeling calm enough to collect the rubbish you’d dumped earlier in exhaustion. Opening the door to pick the black bag up you noticed it was no longer there, looking around to see if anyone had moved it the same neighbour from this morning approached you. “I put it in mine!” pointing to a wheelie bin next to her garage then proceeded to tell you how you can order one too from the council’s website; then I don’t have to remember to put the bins out – genius! You thanked her for the information and was about to close the door but she carried on talking to tell you about the recycle days, the nearest shop for milk, gave you the local window cleaner’s number and where not to park as some neighbours are territorial over parking spaces. “Ahhh, that may be a problem. I’ve got friends coming over for a house warming tonight” you pondered, touching your hand to your chin wondering where everyone was going to park. “Get them to car pool or use the bus, there’s a stop just around the corner. If you need to you can use my driveway, I’ve got work and won’t be home tonight” she smiled during her offering. Thanking her profusely you finally went your separate ways.
Some of your friends stayed over that night and as they were leaving in the morning your neighbour was returning home from work, giving a small wave to each other in passing your friends turned around to look at where your attention had turned to. Watching the woman unload her car with a large duffle bag, you and your friends ogled the mysterious blonde from across the road. “She looks so familiar!” one of your friends said as everyone else agreed. “We chatted yesterday and the whole time I was trying to figure out why I recognised her” talking quietly so you weren’t overheard by the stranger. “Maybe we went to school with her, could have been the year above us?” shrugging at your friends guesses you finished saying goodbye and that you’d see them soon, waving them off you entered the house to do the last bit of tidying they’d left you with.
Later on there was a knock at the door, opening it confused to see your new neighbour standing on the doorstep. “Hey! Just thought I’d bring something to officially welcome you the neighbourhood” she said with a friendly smile and handing you a bunch of flowers with a card. “Thanks, you didn’t have to but I appreciate it” you responded a little taken aback at her generosity; you didn’t think people still talked to their neighbours these days, especially a new person! “I’ll have to find out the vase from one of these boxes” you chuckled, knowing full well you didn’t have one - nobody had ever bought you flowers before! “Oh! You can borrow mine!” she said and before you could contest the offer she was already sprinting off back to her house, barely gone a minute before returning with a simple glass vase. “You have to snip the ends at an angle and pull the leaves off before putting them in the water” she must have sensed that you’d never arranged a bouquet in your life, probably obvious by the way you were holding them like a new born baby that had been reluctantly dumped in your arms. “There’s a sachet there to put in the water too, makes them live longer” she smiled but you could tell she was now anxiously waffling. You thanked her and swiftly closed the door, keen to not take up anymore of her time.. or yours. You don’t know this woman and if you didn’t cut her off who knows how long you’d be standing out there talking! You arranged the flowers in the borrowed vase in the kitchen and displayed them in your front room window so they were visible to everyone outside, walking through to the hallway your fingers tore open the envelope, trying to catch something that slipped from the card before it fell to the floor.
Hey [insert name here]
Welcome to the neighbourhood!
Here if you need anything!
Rachel x
PS. here’s a number for your wheelie bin so they don’t get mixed up!
Noticing she had scribbled her phone number at the bottom that became visible as the number sticker slipped out of the card, ‘I never would have thought of this’, you thought as you left it on the sideboard in your porch and went upstairs to run a bath. Flopping back onto the sofa an hour later and switching on the TV, mindlessly flicking through channels as you reread the card, your hands already holding your phone punched in the number Rachel had written.
Y: “(y/n)”
R: “Huh?”
Y: “Insert name here… it’s (y/n)”
R: “Ahh, hi (y/n). Do you know nets are see through when you have the lights on?”
Your eyes bulged out of your head as they suddenly flicked towards the window, scrambling in panic to pull the sofa cushions over the top of you. Coming from shared accommodation you had been so excited to get your own house and be able to walk around naked with no worries in the world that you had forgotten to pull the curtains! You’d dropped your towel when you were walking down the stairs and had been flicking between the kitchen and the lounge fetching snacks before your evening Love Island catch up. Laying on your sofa frozen with anxiety wondering how you’re going to move anywhere with no clothing in sight you took to slithering off your sofa and onto the floor, pencil rolling over to the boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet. There has to be clothes in here somewhere! Finally feeling something fluffy and knowing it was the new blanket for your bed, you wrapped yourself up like a burrito and hopped over to the window, seeing Rachel at hers waving while in full fits of laughter. Wincing at your incredibly stupid mistake you snapped the curtains shut in embarrassment and sunk down the radiator onto the floor again - what a way to announce your arrival!
The next day you were hurriedly leaving for work, your alarm hadn’t sounded you awake and you didn’t have long to get to your job. Rushing out of the door in a chaotic whirlwind you pulled on your jacket and zipped up your bag when you looked up and saw Rachel working out in her garage. Your face quickly blushed red as you turned and slammed the door of your house with you still inside it. How can you live in a neighbourhood where at least one of your neighbours have already seen you naked in the first week of living here?! Peeping out of your porch window to see her sitting on the weight bench with her phone in her hand.. now is your time to run for it - when she’s distracted! Locking your door as quietly as you could you tiptoed over to your car, closing the door with a sigh of relief that you hadn’t been spotted when your phone pinged making you jump. “You know you can’t hide from me forever” turning to look out of your window to see her subtly tilt her head up to the sky with a nod of acknowledgment and disarmament, you sent her a nod back in awkward recognition before driving away. You spent your shift searching for new houses, ones far away where nobody would know you as the naked neighbour! “Is it too soon to move?” you asked in the cafeteria which was met by laughter from your work friends after telling them what had happened. They reassured you that it must happen to everyone at least once in their lifetime and told you to suck it up.
Arriving home to see Rachel’s car was gone you decided to start working on your front garden, safe in the knowledge that you weren’t going to bump into her this afternoon. Sitting cross legged on the grass and digging holes for flowers soon burned the hours away as you pottered around your garden making it look as lovely as the rest of the neighbourhood, you were able to relax knowing that Rachel doesn’t usually return home until the next morning and figured that she must work night shifts. That was until she did return home, much earlier than you were expecting! You had finished your garden and was laying on the newly laid grass gazing up at the sky when you heard the hum of a car drive into your close, sitting up to see it was Rachel and quickly flopping back down, closing your eyes hoping she’d think you were asleep.. or dead! Hearing the car door slam you held your breath in anticipation that she wouldn’t notice you but instead you heard footsteps getting closer along with small pitter patters, only opening your eyes as a you felt a tongue lick your face to see a small dog staring at you with its head tilted. “Who’s this?” your voice turned high pitch at the cute little floof eyeballing you. What a way to break the ice, she’s an actual genius! “Dexi, she seems to like you” she said sitting down on the grass next to you. “Look, it’s not a big deal and getting caught out has happened to all of us” she said trying to make you feel better, plopping the small dog in your lap to stroke her. Raising an eyebrow to question her statement, “really?” you asked, wondering if your friends were right that it does happens to everyone. “Well.. no, but isn’t it a good thing I told you so it didn’t happen again?” she laughed to herself, once again making your cheeks turn red in cringeworthy embarrassment. “Err.. I guess?” For all you know, there was only one person that knew what had happened, doesn’t mean anybody else had seen you and this woman seems like she wouldn’t gossip about it to others in the area. You spent the afternoon chatting on the lawn and playing with Dexi, the embarrassment was soon forgotten as you spoke about anything and everything. A few hours passed when a delivery lorry pulled up in front of your house and unveiled your new bin, Rachel was quick to her feet to collect it for you, wheeling it next to your garage and asking where your sticker was that she got for it. Pointing to the inside of your porch, “may I?” she asked while holding the handle, nodding at her in encouragement before entering your home and grabbing the sticker from the cabinet just inside the door. Crouching down to press the sticker firmly onto your new bin, she stepped back to admire her work and to soak up the adoration for her help and thoughtfulness. You spent the rest of the afternoon talking about why you both moved to the area, how long she has lived here, your mutual love for Love Island and all things reality TV. “What school did you go to?” you finally plucked up the courage to ask, assuming she came from the area. “Not one round here” she chuckled, inquisitive of why you would ask that. “Hmm, me and my friends swear we recognise you from somewhere! We thought maybe it was from school?” you laughed nervously desperately trying to rack your brain as to why she looks so familiar. The blonde shrugged her shoulders and swiftly excused herself after that, citing she needed to feed Dexi.
A few days passed you were making your dinner when the vase Rachel had leant you caught your attention on the draining board, looking out of the window to see her garage door open you decided to pay her a visit. “Hey! I forgot to give your vase back!” calling out as you approached the garage before popping your head in to see her counting reps under her breath as she lifted the weight bar, reaching 50 before stopping to talk to you. “Sorry, would have lost my place if I stopped” standing up to straighten out her top. “You didn’t have to bring it back, you might get more flowers one day” she said approaching you, scratching the back of her neck in a slightly awkward manner. “You’re the only person that’s ever bought me any so I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon” you laughed nervously. “Ya never know though” she shrugged but took the ornament out of your hands, “believe me, I know” you insisted before excusing yourself as dinner was in the oven. Rachel asked what you’ve got so told her you had enough for two if she fancied it; accepting the offer cautiously, she’ll come over after she’s showered.
The doorbell rang as you went to answer it to Rach standing on the doorstep waving a bottle of wine around with a goofy grin. As you finished dishing up dinner, she took herself on a tour of your house even though it was exactly the same layout of hers. She noticed you still hadn’t unpacked everything and studied the words written on the carboard boxes – ‘costumes’, ‘plants’, ‘photos’, along with a few others before making her way to the lounge. Picking up the photographs displayed on the mantlepiece she studied them carefully, chuckling to herself at the one of you and your friends all dressed up in whacky costumes at a bar crawl in another country. You came in with dinner spotting her admiring your photos, “I need this story!” she exclaimed excitedly as she came to join you at the table. You ate and spoke about your girls trip to Vegas and how you came to be dressed up as a giant pea then moved to the sofa for this evening’s Love Island. Rachel told you how she’d lived in America for a bit and told stories about her time there whilst sharing the bottle of wine between you (and by share, she had one glass and you had the rest!) You watched the latest episode together, discussing who your faves are and who you think are snakey and after the programme finished Rachel said she had to leave early tomorrow so shouldn’t stay much longer. “Early shift tomorrow then?” you asked as you accompanied her to the front door, “something like that, I gotta go to Brighton” slipping her shoes back on you asked if she’s staying away tomorrow night. “No I’ll be home, probably pretty late though so don’t wait up for me” she winked in a jokey manner but it still made you feel a little flustered as she waved goodbye.
Over the coming weeks you and Rachel became closer friends, she had come round to help you unpack the rest of your boxes and had helped paint and decorate your spare room. Running around B&Q like children taking it in turns to push each other on the trolley turned into a bi-weekly activity to choose the bedding, lighting and paintings to add the final touches on the room. It had become a regular evening ritual to watch Love Island together when she was home and you found yourself missing her when she was away for work. You certainly didn’t think you’d end up being firm friends with one of your neighbours so quickly after moving in but you were grateful for the familiar comfort of someone you get on so well with on your venture alone.
Waking up late had become a frustrating habit of yours lately, it seemed that since moving out your routine was all over the place, once again rushing out of the door to get to work in time. Only this time, you’d forgotten something.. realising after the door slammed behind you that you hadn’t picked up your keys! Just like you did a few months ago when you moved in, screams exited your mouth and travelled up towards the sun coupled with your foot landing heavily onto your front tyre in frustration then sulked over to your friend’s house, ringing the doorbell hoping Rachel was awake. It didn’t look like she was as when she answered the door her hair looked dishevelled like she’d just woken up, Dexi under her arm whined for cuddles from you as you told her what had happened and asked to borrow her phone. The blonde invited you in and unlocked her phone for you to use as she went to get dressed, Dexi stayed with you as you stroked away the anger. While you waited for your mum to finish work to bring you the spare key she offered you a cup of tea, leading you out to her much bigger garden than yours to drink it. “Omg you have a hot tub?!” and just like that you’d forgotten your earlier woes. Walking up to admire the pool you dipped your hand inside to feel the warmth, spotting something else in your sight. “What the fuck is this this?” looking at a small looking pool with ICE written on the side. “An ice bath” she giggled watching you from the patio. “Why on earth would anyone need one of these?!” backing away from it like it was a deadly disease. “It’s good for you! Especially after working out!” she insisted. “Ah well, that explains why I’ve never heard of it then!” you laughed. “I could do a few sessions with you?” her words caused your face to screw up, that line reminding you that she really doesn’t know you at all. “I’ll just take the hot tub thanks” you said angelically as you sat back at the table with her. “Come over later then? Your mums here” looking at the alert on her phone that someone was at her front door.
“Am I underdressed?” you asked as Rachel opened the door to you in shorts and a shirt that was open and showing your bikini clad chest. Shaking her head with a smirk, “nah, you’re perfect” stepping aside to let you in, “you can jump in, I’m just watching the end of the football”. Deciding to wait for her you sat down to watch the end of the game, asking who was playing and making your lack of football knowledge very well known. As your friend shouted “offside!” at the TV a look of confusion wiped over your face, you had absolutely no idea what the offside rule was no matter (how many times someone tried to explain it to you – you just didn’t care enough to understand! “Who do you support then?” noticing Rachel took a while to pull her eyes away from the match to answer you, “well, Villa obviously – we live here!” she laughed, not bothering to ask you the same seeing as you’d made your disinterest for the game clear. You wondered why she was watching Chelsea v Tottenham if she doesn’t support them but didn’t dare ask, you didn’t want to be annoying so decided to go jump in the tub instead. Playing on your phone until Rachel made an appearance in just her bikini and shorts, quickly looking away after catching yourself looking her up and down hoping she didn’t notice. She did. “You can’t be awkward, I’ve literally seen you naked!” she laughed at your blushing again. “Don’t remind me!” your hand found your forehead in dismay, you’d actually forgotten that this is how your friendship started! “Didn’t fancy this one then?” she joked while sinking into her ice bath. “Nah I fancied the hot one” choking on your drink a little realising the sentence could mean the hot tub or Rachel, both were true regardless! “Who won then?” changing the subject quickly. “Chelsea, do you really not like football?” she asked. “I just don’t get it.. I went to the women’s final at Wembley last year though” you smiled, thinking that fact might interest her. “Really? You?!” she questioned with heavy sarcasm, she couldn’t imagine you at a match after everything you’ve said this evening. “Well my friends wanted to go and I thought why not, I didn’t have a clue what was going on but it was cool we won!” finally excited you could converse on something she was clearly interested in. “Yeah it was, I was there too!” she said, joining you in the hot tub. “Oh really, small world!” noticing a smirk on her face as you said that.
You’re not quite sure how the next part of the conversation started, she must have been trying to fill the silence.. to you it felt natural, being comfortable in silence with someone is truly a tell tale sign that you’re close with them but Rachel mustn’t of felt this way. “Have you seen the stars out here yet?” shaking your head in response to her random question. Being so far out from the city she said that you can see so many stars on a clear night, she loves sitting out here at nighttime watching them and gets sad when it’s cloudy. You shared your love for the moon, you’re a night owl and was excited at the prospect of seeing it more clearly. Looking up to see the sun setting you asked how long it takes for the stars to come out, kicking your feet out underneath the bubbles not realising her feet were out too as they grazed together. “Oh, err, sorry!” Rachel could sense your nervousness as you suddenly splashed your legs underneath you to sit them crossed. “It’s okay” the famous little smirk of hers shone through on her face - the one where the corners of her lips turn downwards slightly but the inside of her mouth smiled, an expression that is totally unique to her. Moving her arm around the back of you and balancing it on the edge of the tub she effortlessly scooched closer at the same time making your heart beat faster, trying to control your breathing hoping she wouldn’t notice it had accelerated into sharp intakes of breath.
Your weeknights had turned into a regular combination of Love Island and hot tubs, weeks passed by where you and Rachel’s friendship had grown closer and closer. Always in one of your houses together except when either of you had work, you’d even let Rach try to teach you the rules of football – she found a method to explain it in a way that makes sense to your brain.. it was either that or the fact you actually wanted to listen to the words coming out of her beautiful mouth.
Wolf whistles echoed around the block as your neck snapped to turn to the only place they could be coming from. It was the hottest day of the year and you were outside washing your car in your casual summer attire – an oversized check shirt that fell lower over your legs than the little denim shorts you’d become accustomed to in this weather, you’d unbuttoned your shirt in the heat and it was now barely hanging on to your arms. When you dried the water droplets on the bonnet so you could see your face in it you turned to lean up on your car like all the hot girls do in the music videos, your foot leant up on the grill and your arms folded as you looked over to Rachel standing in her garage door frame. Your tongue poked into your inner cheek before sliding out the corner of your mouth in a suggestive manner spotting her bare shoulders and arms you could hardly contain yourself. The flirting had become an expected part of your days and even though neither of you had ever said anything, it was obvious that there was something between you. “You done your work out yet?” you called over to her, watching her shake her head teasingly before replying to you, “why, do you wanna watch?” turning her back to face you as she loaded up her bars with weights. The offer was irresistible, especially as you knew ice baths and hot tubs always come after work outs! “Mayybeee” your word elongated as you swung on the door frame to the garage in a giddy way, watching her lie down on the bench as she started her reps and waiting for her to invite you in.. not that you needed permission anymore! Rolling out your chair for the hour you plopped yourself onto the exercise ball and wiggled your bum around as it moved across the floor. You’ve always had trouble sitting still but the bounciness of the ball kept you entertained for a while as you flicked through your phone. “Why don’t you work out?” she asked through heavy breaths as she neared the end of the reps on her first station of the day. “Why would I want to do that on purpose?” you answered bewildered as to why anyone would voluntarily put themselves through that. “So your body is strong?” was one of her reasons before listing off a few others. Giving in to her petty argument you decided to give her what she clearly wanted, “babes if you wanna watch me sweat you just gotta say” your voice turned cocky as you waltzed over to the treadmill at the opposite side of the room, noticing she moved stations to where the dumbbells were which was conveniently in front of a mirror so she could watch you.. even though she insisted she wasn’t! You can always feel if someone is watching you whether your back is turned or not and decided to play with her a little, taking your shirt off and throwing it into the corner of the room as you picked up pace. Rachel was watching you intently through the mirror, fixed on how your ponytail bounced with each step or how your shorts had risen higher up your legs.
You felt Rachel approach you from behind, coming to the side of the machine and leaning her arm up onto the display. “Do you like women (y/n)?” she asked maintaining eye contact as you continued to run. Her eyes tried to fix on yours like she was trying to read what you were going to say before it’s even been said, unable to avoid flicking between your face and your bikini clad chest bouncing in time with your pony tale. Biting her lip at the thoughts in her mind of wrapping her fist around your hair and pulling those shorts off of your cute body. “Are you dumb?” your tone sounding a little more harsh than intended, “I’m literally on this thing in a fucking bikini waiting for you to throw me across this room!” Rachel snorted at your sudden explosion of honesty, “so that’s why you don’t work out! You’re a pillow princess!” she teased causing you to slam your hand onto the display to stop the treadmill, letting it slip you off the end with your arms folded. “Say that again, I dare ya” you egged her on by getting up in her face as you said that, willing her to take you and take you now! If not to the bedroom at least to be dumped in the hot tub! She’d barely batted an eyelid when her sudden movements caught you off guard, throwing your body over her shoulder she pulled down the garage door and carried you up stairs, slapping your butt then threw you down the bed, pinning your arms to the mattress beneath her, “that’s why I work out!” her cocky voice made you wince, releasing months of worked up sexual tension in a night of passion.
A few days later you were putting your bins out when you heard drilling come from the other side of the block. “Oi oi!” calling out as you approached the garage, Rachel appeared within seconds holding a drill in one hand and leaning up on the frame with the other. Blowing the tip of her drill like she’d just shot someone with a gun. “Hey sexy” she leant down to kiss you with as much passion as you shared the other night, “come for round two have ya?” smirking as she pulled you into the garage. “Are you gonna put that down first?” cautiously nodding towards the electric tool still in her hand. As she bent down to place it on the ground your eyes were drawn towards the wall where she had been hanging things up. Spotting your gaze fixed on the frames her breathing stopped in anticipation of the next thing to come out of your mouth. Your eyes glanced from shirt to shirt with DALY written on the back of every single one until your brain clicked all the pieces together. “Rachel Daly! “That’s why I recognised you! That’s why your shifts are all over the place!” your hands clapped over your mouth as her facial expression stayed neutral waiting for you to finish gawping. “I prefer people get to know me before the footballer” she said with nervousness tinged in her words, “I prefer people get to know me before they see me naked!” you laughed, slapping her shoulder which showed absolutely nothing had changed. “Tell me about them” taking her hand and standing in front of the first shirt with her, the one that looked the most faded and aged. “You’re actually interested?” her arm draped over your shoulder, using her other hand to softly swipe the beach wavy hair from your eyes. Looking up at her you nodded enthusiastically as she started to talk about her life you knew nothing about, “well this one is from Leeds, they were my first team when I was 15..” she started her story which lead well into the night, you listened intently the entire time, intrigued with the life that she had felt compelled to keep hidden.
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#1. NEYMAR: Bitter taste
SUMMARY: You and Neymar have been dating for only a few months when there were rumours about you being on vacation with your ex.
WARNINGS: angst
PAIRING: Neymar x female reader
Neymars POV:
Impossible. This can't be real. She would never do that. She loves me. I kept looking at the pictures and videos Y/N's ex posted on instagram a few days ago. She told me she'd be on vacation with her mother, but seemingly my fans knew better. They found recent pictures of her and her ex in Malta. I couldn't take my eyes off those pictures and stories. Pictures and videos of them at the beach together, clubbing, hugging, even kissing. Of course these images went viral instantly. Everyone was talking about how the "former playboy" Neymar Jr. got cheated on himself this time. Some people called it my karma, saying I deserved it. Others wished Y/N death in the comment section. But me? I felt nothing, pure emptiness. No emotions, no feelings. No sadness, no anger, nothing. Looking at her in these photos, I couldn't even recognize her as the woman I loved so much. She seemed so different. Her facial expressions, her gestures, her whole behavior. Who is she? Have I been really giving my all to someone I didn't actually know at the end of the day?
"Sinto muito irmão", Cris, one of my closest friends, texted me [I'm very sorry, bro]. Obviously he heard about the news already. I didn't even have the power or nerve to respond.
I was sitting outside on the terrace. It was about 8pm and Y/N was supposed to get here in about two hours. In those eight months we were together we have never been apart from each other for so long. We always managed to at least see each other at the weekends. Now she has been gone for three weeks and to be honest, I didn't even want her to come back. Thinking about how jealous she always used to be, how scared she was of losing me, and now it was her I saw in the arms of someone else.
I walked around the apartment, trying to find something to distract myself. The bottle of red wine I planned to drink with Y/N tonight caught my eye finally. Sinking into the couch I opened the bottle and couldn't stop myself from taking one sip after another. My family and friends called and texted me non-stop, reaching out to make sure I was alright, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. I switched my phone off and continued gazing at the TV that wasn't even on. All I saw was my reflection, sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine in my hands. Like a damn fool.
Soon enough, the second bottle was opened and I started feeling a little tipsy. No, I can't be here when she arrives. I can not stand looking or talking to her now. "Hey Kylian, what's up? Wanna go out tonight?", I called him after switching on my phone again, ignoring all the messages and missed calls. "Do you really think it’s a good idea to go out clubbing? Y/N will be there soon, you should probably talk it out", he replied.
"This is exactly what I don’t want and need. I've been sitting here overthinking it all for hours now. I need some distraction." It was clear to me that Kylian wasn't thrilled, but in the end, he agreed to get some drinks with me.
Y/Ns POV:
I could barely hold back a squeal of happiness the moment I opened the door to Neymars house. Three weeks without him felt like a year to me. I never thought I would miss someone so much.
Why are all the lights turned off? Weird. I expected him to wait for me, but didn't think of anything bad as I assumed he probably fell asleep on the couch, but no, he didn't. The only thing I saw were two empty bottles of red wine and a third one open. I laughed to myself "He really couldn’t wait and got drunk before I even arrived, hm?" Being sure that he already dozed off in the bedroom, I entered quietly, only to find the room empty. I slowly started worrying. Where the hell was he? What was going on? Is this another one of his stupid pranks? I tried to switch on my phone to see if he texted me anything, but the battery was dead. As I was looking for a charger, I noticed a little note at the side of my bed and picked it up.
I hope you had a great vacation with (your ex's name). Pack your stuff and be gone by tomorrow morning.
What the fuck? Where did this come from? My heart was racing, I started panicking. "Come on, come on, come on", I said as I tried to turn on my phone once more. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I finally was able to type in my code. I tried calling Neymar, but as expected, he didn't pick up. After the probably 7th call I decided to check if he posted something on his instagram story, revealing where he would be or what he was doing. He didn’t post anything, but Kylian did. He was out with Neymar, in some kind of club. Suddenly I got a text from my best friend. "Uhm, why is (your ex's name) posting pictures of you two together? Aren’t these old?" What did he do? I knew he never liked seeing Neymar and me together, but making up rumours?! For what? Did he really think I'd go back to him after he tried to destroy my relationship?
I searched (your ex's name) up on instagram and was in shock. He indeed posted pictures and videos of us together in Malta from a year ago. I scrolled through the comments. Some people were making of Neymar, saying he deserved to get played after everything he has allegedly done to women. But most of them wished me death, stating they expected me to cheat, I am so fake, I never loved Neymar but his money and fame only.
The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I sat down on the bed. How could he ever think I would actually cheat on him? Didn’t I show how much I loved him? Wasn’t I doing enough for him and our relationship? Glancing at the note he wrote once more, I shook my head. I wouldn’t just leave him like this. Not for some stupid cheating rumours.
Neymars POV:
I decided to spend the night at Kylians house, giving Y/N the opportunity to leave before I'd get home. Normally, going out with friends and drinking always distracted me for at least a few hours, but it didn’t help me at all last night. Quite the opposite even. My eyes were still red and puffy from all the crying. My throat was burning due to the amount of alcohol I drank.
Entering the house I could still smell her fragrance. I took a deep breath, knowing this was the last time I would be "that" close to her. Looking around I realised there really wasn’t any of her belongings, meaning she most probably read the note and left like I told her to. "Oh shit", I whispered to myself as I entered the living room, seeing the bottles of wine that left a disgusting smell. As a consequence of the heavy drinking from last night, I couldn’t stand to smell any form of alcohol, so I decided to spend some minutes on the terrace. To my surprise, the door stood open. I stepped out and saw Y/N sitting on the bench, drinking coffee. "What are you doing here?", I harshly asked, "I told you to leave by the morning."
"And you really think I would just leave you like that?" Her eyes were as red and puffy as mine. She looked like she hasn’t slept the whole night. My heart would actually break seeing her cry, especially knowing I was the reason, but this time I didn't even care. "Well, you really should since I fucking told you to." The tears in her eyes were forming again as she looked away from me. "Have you at least packed your bags?", I asked her. She shook her head from left to right. "Then I'm going to do it for you", I said going inside.
"Neymar", Y/N shouted following me. I opened the door to her closet and started taking her stuff out. "Can you at least hear me out? I just want to explain it all to you." I looked at her in disbelief and laughed sarcastically. "I don't need an explanation. Everything I need to know, I saw."
"But it isn’t true Neymar, I didn’t cheat on you." I let out an annoyed moan. "You want to tell me these pictures are photoshopped? You met him by accident and then decided to spend your vacation with him so you wouldn’t get bored with your mom? Honestly, just drop it. I don’t wanna hear shit from you." Watching her breaking down in tears made me swallow very hard, but I couldn’t give in, not after her cheating on me with her ex. "The pictures and videos he posted are old. It was on his birthday, last year."
"Mhm, and it’s just a coincidence you've been there on his birthday again right?"
"Actually, yes. You know he lives there. The year I've been with him I was there all the time. I even thought of moving there. Trust me, I don't give a damn about him anymore. I just fell in love with the island." We remained silent for a moment, while I continued to throw her belongings into a random suitcase I found. "I don't know how to prove it to you, Ney. I deleted all those pictures as soon as we got together. I can’t even show you they’re old." No response from me. "He always wanted to tear us apart because he knew you were the real reason I left him."
"Congratulations to him. He succeeded", I coldly replied. She took out her phone and started scrolling, "Here." From the corner of my eye, I saw her holding her phone up. "Y/N, I don't want to see anything. I don't even care anymore. We're done."
"But this is undeniable proof that he is lying", her voice got louder, which made me raise an eyebrow at her. "Undenibale proof you say, huh?" I took the phone out of her hand and saw her instagram story archive. The same pictures and videos he posted a few days ago. My heart stopped for a second when I saw the date. Over a year ago. Not even able to look at her, I handed her her phone back. I couldn’t say a word, I felt so stupid. "But if you wish for me to leave, I will", she broke the silence, ripping her stuff out of my hand, "I just wanted to let you know that I would never cheat on you and if you still decide to go separate ways, it’s okay. Just please know that I really do love you and could never do anything to hurt you." I watched her filling the suitcase with her clothes. "And for your future relationships, you should really consider talking to your girlfriend first before leaving her without even giving her a chance to explain herself", she somehow managed to say inbetween her sobs. "Y/N, baby…" I softly hugged her from behind and turned her around. She buried her face in my chest and started crying even harder. "I'm so sorry. I can’t believe I even thought you would do that to me. He just made everything seem so legit and real." We just stood there, no one saying a word until she calmed down a little. "I love you Neymar, I love you so much. How could you even believe it for a second?" she spoke up.
"I didn’t at first, but… what would you think? I knew you were actually there and all of a sudden these photos appear on his instagram. And it’s not even a year ago that you broke up with him. I was scared you could possibly go back." Y/N finally looked up, staring right into my eyes. "I love you, you idiot", she said before pecking my lips quickly. "I love you too." I wiped away her tears with my thumb. "How about we'll take a nap, order food later and watch some movies? I think none of us really slept this night." She yawned as she nodded. "Sounds good to me."
#Neymar#neymar imagine#neymar imagines#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian mbappe imagines#football imagine#football imagines#neymar fanfic#neymar jr imagine#Neymar jr x reader#Neymar x reader#Neymar jr#Neymar da silva santos junior#imagine#imagines
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Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Chapter 2
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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.
Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.
Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :(
General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator @tempt-ress @watercolorskyy @tsujifreya @qyburnsghost
Tag-List for this series (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @snh96 @thetrueblackheart @zenka69 @darkenchantress
Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!
Word Count: 3.4K
Aemond returned to pay for a cigarette without having barely taken a couple of drags. It was the third cigarette that he put out discouraged at that party. He knew that some of Aegon's friends were trying to be nice, asking him how his time in the Summer Isles had been... trying to be nice, most of them, not all.
He had been terribly grateful for their attitude to all those who had ignored him. It was the best they could do. Especially when Aemond had tried, without much success, to smoke a quiet cigarette on the huge terrace of Aegon's new bachelor pad. Because that's what it was. It even had a swimming pool. The damn terrace had a pool that he was sure Aegon wouldn't use with just you.
He looked at the cigarette crushed against one of the flower pots on the terrace and leaned against the wall without much encouragement. He assumed you were supposed to be with Aegon. He hadn't seen you again all night and he regretted taking the first flight. He had only done it to impress you, as if that act of love could erase the fact that he hadn't texted to you in two years. He had been a terrible friend all that time. He had also been the friend in love and scorned.
“There is a terrace in Aegon's room too. I know how much it bothers you that you can't have a cigarette when you're stressed.” Helaena approached her brother and leaned against the same wall, looking at the sky. “I don't think it's going to take much longer for the fireworks to appear. After them, you can go home without looking rude” his sister smiled sweetly. Aemond prepared to enter the house again and go to Aegon's room, the same one that you would share with him that same night. “But, I know you're not here to see the fireworks.” Helaena looked back ahead, just after giving her brother a sideways glance.
“Hmm,” was all Aemond sighed as he walked back into the house. There he saw Aegon lying on a couch with a couple of his friends. There was not a single trace of you. Aemond had thought you would be at the party with him. Unnoticed, he tried to look for you with his one eye, but all he could find were drunk or high people. Maybe... you were in the bathroom, why wouldn't you be with your boyfriend on a night like that?
Aemond walked the entire hallway in silence. He took a cigarette from the barely opened package as he walked through it. All full of quite contemporary paintings. He thought his brother had finally learned to value that kind of thing, or surely it had been you. The one-eyed man knew that it was better to contribute for the second option. Aegon wasn't all that refined about that sort of thing, but you were. You always had been, that's why he had always thought you were the perfect girl for him.
He went to reach for the doorknob to Aegon's room when he heard barking inside. They were powerful, a big dog. “Shhh, Sunfyre, now, now. Stop” He heard your voice and Aemond flung open the door, almost worried that something was happening to you.
As soon as he opened the door, he found you on a pile of coats on top of Aegon's bed. A young Doberman puppy was jumping on top of you. Licking your face. He must have been almost a year old, but the youth of a young dog still shone in his eyes. He was almost as big as you and the dog could only wag his stump of a tail as he watched Aemond open the door. He ran towards the Targaryen.
“No, please, don't let him escape,” you squealed in amusement at Aemond and he only stopped you with a quick movement of his leg, closing the door behind him. "Thank you. I don't even want to think about having to chase him around the party again” you smiled as you grabbed the dog's leather collar and Aemond's heart just melted.
I'm in love with you. It was the only thing that was going through his mind, what he wanted to scream at you.
You continued grabbing the dog and locked him in the bathroom, leaving him jumping on the glass door of the bathroom. “He's always scared by fireworks,” you tried to smile while the dog filled the glass of the bathroom door with fog and drool. You sighed tiredly and looked at Aemond with a sweet half smile. “He destroyed your cigarette,” you laughed, pointing to the destroyed cigarette in his hand just as he had stopped the dog and he could only sigh as he took another one out of the package. “How come you're not at the party?” you told him as you turned and walked out the door to the small terrace of the bedroom. You simply sat down in one of the two chairs there and were grateful to stretch out while you loosened all the bones and muscles in your body after a long day of work.
“I need a quiet smoke” was all he told you as he took the zippo out of his front pocket and sat down next to you in the other chair. He took a couple of drags while the flame of that Zippo continued to feed the cigarette fire.
“You still have it,” you stated. It was not a question, but a statement. He handed you the old Zippo as he blew out the smoke from the last puff again. You bit your lower lip, suppressing a satisfied smile. That meant so much to you. You were amazed that Aemond still maintained something like that.
“Well, I have modified it slightly,” he confessed to you as you passed by the Targaryen shield engraved on one of the sides of the lighter. Your perfect fingers caressed him with great care while Aemond smiled pleased. “It was your father's fault that he started smoking. The least I could do was keep the lighter he gave me.”
“Yeah, sure, blame my dad for starting smoking,” you laughed. He resists you, precious, and Aemond felt his entire heart melt. How could you be so perfect? “He only left you the lighter because you had forgotten it at home,” you rolled your eyes in amusement, remembering that night in your own adolescence.
“And because of him that night I didn't stop smoking. If it hadn't been for that saint, that poor young man wouldn't have smoked a single cigarette that night."
A couple of days later, he had tried to return the lighter to your father. He never confessed it to you, but the man just looked at him with sympathy as he cleaned his hands after fixing one of Daemon's many cars. His personal mechanic, that was what his uncle had called him, and how he still was even in those days, although he was already close to retirement age. “Keep it, boy,” he smiled as he opened a beer during work hours in his workshop and offered it to Aemond, who rejected it with a polite wave of his hand. “I have many lighters. One more, one less, it's not going to make a difference,” he responded with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Yeah, but it's a Zippo,” Aemond said, almost embarrassed, when he offered it to him again. He knew they weren't cheap. Your family didn't have as much money as his. They would never have it. With his weekly allowance, he could buy four Zippos and still have money left over to take you out to dinner. Your father smiled tiredly and looked right at the entrance to the workshop. You were sitting on the sidewalk, watching the bikes, yours and Aemond's. Although your father knew that you were not a stupid girl. You had sent Aemond to return the lighter because you just wanted to know one thing.
“I liked the way she looked at you,” your father whispered in a knowing tone. Aemond looked at him strangely when he said those words and your father pointed his head at you. “I liked the way she looked at you when you wore it. Keep it,” he asked again as he returned to work. “But don't tell your uncle that I gave it to you,” he said as he crouched down to get under a car again. “It was a gift from him,” he added, but Aemond was no longer listening to anything your father said.
His heart was just pounding. He was then 17 years old. He was a couple of months older than you and couldn't believe your father's words. How had you looked at it? How? He couldn't stop turning that fantasy over in his head. And if… and if, were you interested in him too? As much as he was for you?
Your father heard him running in your direction and came out from under the car. He saw you both go together, pedaling. He knew that that afternoon you had agreed to see an exhibition at the cultural center of that small city. He took another sip of his beer. Fresh always came in better, but he couldn't stop looking at you.
That was the kind of boy he wanted for you. A boy with ambitions, studious, educated, who was looking to have a future. Aemond Targaryen was everything your father wanted for you, even though he had taken up smoking. We all had our flaws, but Aemond was perfect in your father's eyes and he had always found it cute how your cheeks would blush when you talked about him.
"How is he?" he asked you after a comfortable silence. You looked at him as if you didn't know what you were talking about. “Your father, I mean.”
"Oh, good. Great. Working hard, as always” you smiled at him as you leaned back in your chair. The truth was that your father had been terribly angry because Aegon had been late to his birthday party. You knew that he didn't like him, that neither of them really liked each other, but your father had tried to break the ice that existed in their icy relationship by finally inviting him to his birthday party. Aegon had shown up three hours later, relaxed and with a smile from ear to ear, as if provoking was always with him. Your father had asked you not to invite him to anything related to the family again. That was something you hadn't discussed with Aegon. You knew how it was going to be with your boyfriend and you knew that he would say again that all that was because he wasn't Aemond. Jealousy rarely came to the fore, but it always did in Aegon's relationship with your father. That was stupid. Your father didn't care who you dated, or so you thought.
“I should go see him to check the belt on the Mustang,” Aemond smiled at you and you smiled back shyly. Yes, that was just what your father needed to despise Aegon even more, knowing that Aemond was back. “Why aren’t you at the party?” He asked you sincerely while you curled up, taking off your shoes on the lounge chair that you considered your place on that small terrace.
“The truth is that I ended up terribly tired today,” you said without much encouragement, as if all your good humor had vanished, as if you didn't have to pretend that you were fine. That was Aemond's great magic. You didn't have to pretend. Sometimes it was stressful how much you pretended to be in Aegon's presence, as if his always carefree nature led you to it, as if you had to hide what you really felt for the sake of the relationship. “And I don't want to have to put up with Aegon's 'friends',” you confessed, as if not a single day had passed since you had last seen him. Because those were the great friendships, the ones that no matter how much time passed, you always spoke as if you had seen each other the day before.
“Yes, I thought I saw Cass Baratheon at the party,” Aemond laughed, taking a drag and you narrowed your eyes tired, but amused.
“I can't stand her. I've tried, but I can't stand it” you waved your arms and Aemond smiled.
“Don't worry, I can't stand Maris,” he responded with a shrug. He still remembered how she had laughed at his lack of manliness after the fight with Luke in their last year of high school.
"They are unbearable. Daddy’s girls” you replied, looking back up at the night sky and Aemond couldn’t stop looking at you. You were still as beautiful as when you were gone. Just as perfect. That conversation reminded him of the old days, when you were still nothing more than two kids who talked about the absurd things that happened to you in class.
Silence settled between you again. You were too tired to notice, but Aemond hadn't stopped looking at you for a single moment. He imagined that this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his days. With you. After a hard day of work, the two of them together. He saw you pass your hand over your cervical spine, grimacing painfully, but you stretched again. He finished his cigarette and in an irresponsible act threw it over the terrace. “Aemond!” You scolded him, almost amused, and he sat next to you in that armchair.
You never said anything, but the proximity of his body, in such an intimate context, made you feel slightly uncomfortable. But, it only made you feel that way, because you were dating Aegon and yet you were liking Aemond's proximity. You crossed your legs trying to find a new position in that chair and he just placed you against him. “Stand up straight,” he whispered to you and all the hair on your body stood up.
“Really, it's not necessary…” everything you were going to say died in a pleasant moan that escaped your lips as Aemond began to massage your neck. “Fuck…” you whispered under your breath and Aemond smiled again.
“I'm glad it wasn't necessary,” he responded while massaging a cervical spine that was terribly burdened by the stress accumulated over weeks. You continued to make little moans of pleasure which Aemond found adorable. That's what you needed, to be taken care of, to be pampered... and Aemond was back to do it. He had done a lot of reflecting during those two rather lonely years on the Summer Isles.
He saw the strap of your bra and slowly added it, as if he were trying to make you enjoy it. He licked his lips. He was going to kiss your bare shoulders first, then continue down your neck, and finally end up on your mouth. “Thank you for the massage. It was very good” you replied as you turned to look at him again, while you raised the strap of your bra back to your shoulders.
“Yes, it was good” he pursed his lips and looked at the ground again. He had to have been an asshole who had stayed silent while he imagined him kissing the neck of the girl of his dreams. “(Y/N), I…” he started saying. That was the moment. He couldn't put it off any longer. He did not want to. You were both alone at that party. It was like old times. Completely the same. What was stopping you from being together? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Aemond thought about Aegon, but he ignored you at best. He had thrown that party without thinking that you might be tired.
“Helaena told me that you have gotten a job at the University of King's Landing” you changed the subject and you could only see the disappointment on his face. You weren't prepared for what he wanted to confess. You weren't a stupid girl. But, Aemond had had his chance many years ago. He had only broken your heart by starting to date Alys, who was then your best friend, and after breaking up with her he, had run away to the summer islands, where he had not written you a single message, not once. You could tell what was going through his mind. You knew him well, or at least you had known him well before he went on that international stay that had lengthened the unspeakable. You didn't know if you were ready to hear I love you from his lips. Maybe you'd never be again. “I'm very happy that you are achieving everything you set out to do,” you smiled sincerely, because you were really happy that he was achieving what he had set out to do.
“Yes, it's a good position,” he whispered, as he took out a cigarette and lit it again. “I think that in three years I will be able to direct the History department,” he responded while settling down next to you in that chair that was clearly for only one person. You knew he was only saying that to impress you. Aemond's way of flirting had always been that, but you were with Aegon. You had chosen him two years ago. Just like Aemond had chosen Alys.
He grabbed your legs and lifted them onto his lap. Why had he had to choose Alys? Why? You would have been a great couple. You couldn't deny the chemistry that had always existed between the two of you. That simple conversation had reactivated it, as if you no longer knew what you wanted, because you didn't. You had never known it. “I guess… I'll look for an apartment in the city and drive to the university. It is not far. Only half an hour"
“You always wanted to return to the capital…” you said, not daring to look at him.
“There…there is someone who ties me to this place. For the only reason that I have returned after two years…” there was the confession. You didn't want to hear it. You couldn't hear it. Not now. Not when your whole world was crumbling around you, it almost seemed as if Aemond had waited for that moment to confess. At the moment when you were weakest and most vulnerable. "I…"
“Hey, I was looking for you, what are you two doing alone so far from the party?” Aegon just appeared there, still with a glass in his hand. He approached the two of you and you smiled at him, while Aemond thought of a thousand ways to kill him for that interruption. “You look beautiful,” he whispered to you as he grabbed the necklace Aemond had brought you. “Are you tired after work?” he whispered to you again, creating an intimate atmosphere in which Aemond was not invited.
“Yes, I'm quite tired,” you replied while he brushed his nose with yours, in a gesture that implied more tenderness than Aemond had imagined your relationship. He gave you several quick pecks. Kisses that made you laugh between each one of them. He whispered something to you that made you laugh, and Aemond began to feel uncomfortable, more and more.
“Oh, Aemond, Alys gave me my regards to you. I was shopping and I found her by chance” he said sounding completely innocent, but Aemond knew why he had said it, why he had said it right in front of you. As Aemond was about to answer, the first firework appeared in the sky and Aegon hugged your shoulders while you continued to sit. “I love fireworks,” he whispered and your heart sank.
You had never liked fireworks. They would never do it. Another exploded into the sky again and Aegon grabbed you tighter. While smiling. You didn't want to look at Aemond, but you knew he wasn't watching the fireworks. His head was very far away, almost as far away as yours.
But you both thought it wasn't fair. Aemond thought it wasn't fair for you to give your love to Aegon. You kept thinking that it wasn't fair that Aemond wanted to come back to confess something that you both had always known. Neither situation was fair to anyone. And in it, there were only losers.
#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen modern au#aemond modern au#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader
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hi could i ask for #4 with az from the september prompt list? i loveeee your writing!!! thank u :))))
A/N - Very cute! Thanks for requesting this, anon!
Shiver
Summary - You know how to warm Azriel right back up
Warnings - Just some cute fluff
As soon as you opened the door to the Townhouse, arms were immediately opened around you and scooped you off your feet.
“Az! For Cauldron’s sake, let me get into the house first!” You huffed as the arms were holding you tight and making you hover off the ground. His own grip was not slipping for a second as he was humming and keeping you close, you could even feel his shadows lick against your arms and forehead in happiness and contentment. Of course, this was a bit silly, but you wouldn’t change it. You loved this side of Azriel and how open he was with you. There was no image he had to uphold, nor did he have to be intimidating. He was no longer the Spymaster or the intimidating Illyrian that made others shiver in their spots.
Underneath the leathers and the shadows, Azriel was a bit of a softy.
“Is it wrong that I missed my mate?” He asked against your hair as he placed you back down on the ground. You simply kissed him on the lips, curling into him as he kissed you back just as sweetly. If you could you would be drunk off his lips, the soft plumpness of his lips against your own, the feeling of euphoria that you get as he would kiss you over and over, you had enough and not enough at the same time.
“Not at all,” You answered as you pulled away from him, seeing him immediately take your bag off your shoulder before you could protest and he ushered you inside the Townhouse, “I take it you missed me a bit today?”
“I don’t like having a day off without you with me,” Azriel reasoned as he chucked your bag onto the small ottoman that was next to you, “Rhysand must have thought of this as a good way to torture me since you were going at his meetings,”
“Well I am his secretary,” You reminded him as he laced your fingers together while you toed off your shoes to place against the wall next to his boots, “And you made it all day without me, I should give you a gold star,”
“Oh haha,” He joked as your toes were touching the hardwood floor beneath you. Yet once you made contact with his own toes, you hissed from the instant cold you were feeling.
“What’s wrong” he asked suddenly as your eyes shot down at your toes touching below you.
“Your feet are cold!” You said in shock, Azriel chuckled as you moved your toes away from his quickly, “Why are they cold?!”
“I run a bit cooler, you know that,” Azriel said with a grin as he chuckled and rubbed your arms to give you some kind of attempt to warm you up, “Also It didn’t help that I was doing some stretches outside on the terrace since I’m still sore in my backside.”
“And that’s your fault for working out too hard with the new recruits,” You snorted as you both moved into the entranceway of the Townhouse, “But still, we need to warm up your toes and get you relaxed,”
The pair of you made it to the sitting room of the Townhouse, A pair of loveseats that were in front of the fireplace seemed inviting as the magic of the Townhouse came alive with a fresh fire in the fireplace. You tugged off your jacket and guided both you and Azriel to the main loveseat. With a plop, you both were sitting down in relief and the tension in both of your shoulders no longer existed.
“Ah, this is perfect,” Azriel replied as he propped his feet up on the ottoman in front of the fire, the warmth already licking into the small room easily while your head was now on his shoulder, “Did I miss anything from your meeting with Rhysand today?”
“Not allowed to say,” You replied, Azriel raised his eyebrow at you as you giggled and shrugged, “What? Those meetings are private and you know it,”
“You won’t even tell your own mate?” He asked in a mocked tone of hurt. You could only stick your tongue at him and poke his side, feeling him tuck you in with one arm, “I am a bit hurt. But I also know how Rhysand works and what he keeps secret in his own meetings,”
“Thank you for not interrogating me then,” You replied as you propped your own feet on the ottoman. Once again your toes touched, and this time his toes were no longer feeling like icicles as they were moments before. The temperature was up a bit with his skin, you’re sighing in relief as Azriel couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Better?” He asked you playfully as he kissed your hair.
“Way better. Don’t ever let your toes freeze again,” you mildly scolded him, yet you are still keeping your tone light and never mean. Azriel hummed as your legs were tangled comfortably. The sounds of the fire in the fireplace were ringing in the air, the cool air along your skin brought down the heat that was in the room, and most of all being able to be close to Azriel. The mood was perfect, even after a long day with Rhysand and having to deal with several of his meetings with other Court High Lords. You did love your role in the Inner Circle, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. But you would rather enjoy a quiet evening with your mate.
“Never again, my dear,” he hummed as your foreheads touched.
The End.
September Prompt Session
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#fanfiction#writing#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x oc#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#acomaf
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