#(later that gets better though... and then they have the handshake)

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

[inuyashaluver]

please write some more leah x reader being parents fics 😮‍💨

parents - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your wife go through life with your two favourite little girls

warnings: fluffy cuteness

a/n: i was feeling mrs williamson, you get me? i hope you all enjoy lovelies, i love you all!!!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

leah williamson knew from the moment she met you, there was no one else that would occupy her mind. that first time she laid her eyes on you, she knew that you were the one and it wasn’t even a question.

this girl was obsessed with you, and she knows that she always will be. she didn't think she could be more in love with you, not thinking it was possible.

but for the lack of better judgement, she was absolutely in love, and grows more in love each and everyday she’s with you.

and to leah’s surprise, that love grew tenfold when you gave her the greatest gift of all, two beautiful little girls.

–

you and leah originally met in the youth teams, both of you growing a fascination for each other from afar. you were from australia and her from england.

both of you happened to be captains for your respective teams and had a few, friendly interactions with one another, feeling the sparks fly from the moment your hands touched in a handshake.

yet, you both didn't do anything about it. instead, stolen glances and stalking on instagram seemed to be the backbone of both of your adolescent lives.

your relationship flourished when you joined arsenal in 2015, the two of you getting along like a house on fire, and in no time, it grew into a relationship and then into a marriage in 2019.

and later that year, you both decided to take the leap and have children. the second best decision the two of you have made other than getting married.

though the conversation came up early in the relationship, it was settled when leah found you sobbing on the couch one morning.

“baby?” leah called out gently, her hand patting your side of the bed, immediately disappointed you weren't in your spot. it was until she heard distant sniffles in your shared apartment that she went into crisis mode.

that's when she found you, sat on the couch completely bundled up in thick, fluffy blankets. you were crying, hard on the couch, eyes and nose red looking absolutely shattered.

“hey,” leah says softly, kneeling in front of you immediately, looking right up into your eyes as she took your hands in hers.

“love, what's the matter?” she frowns, scanning your tear stained face, you sniffle, taking in sharp inhales as you look at your concerned wife.

“i had a dream” you choke out, gripping onto her hands tightly as you recall your dream. leah’s frown grows, “a nightmare, love?” she questions, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath, you shake your head and leah’s eyebrow quirks.

“it was a good dream” you cry, leah stares at you for a moment, “baby, i’m a little confused here, you're sitting here crying before training over a good dream?” she clarifies, watching you nod along with her words.

“what was the dream about, love?” leah sighs, you wriggle in your spot, leah takes it as a sign to sit on the couch, pulling you to rest up on her lap, her hand seeking refuge on your thigh and your back, rubbing back and forth over the skin with her thumb.

“in my dream,” you say nervously, leah noticed you looked a little flushed, she nodded at you in encouragement.

“i had a dream where i was pregnant, and we had another little child as well, and you were kissing my belly while the little girl was on you, we were all laughing and it was sunny and warm” you smile, tears still glistening in your eyes.

“and you were so happy, and i was so happy, i just wish it was real, it was a lovely dream” you breathe out, leah stares at you in fascination, her smile unmistakable as she looked at you.

“lovey, you had a dream where we had kids?” leah chuckles, you nod looking embarrassed, “baby girl, i can give that to you” she assures, watching you turn bright pink under her gaze.

her smile immediately grows to a smirk. she presses gentle kisses along the underside of your jaw all the way up to the shell of your ear.

“let’s make your dream come true” she whispers, gently biting the lobe of your ear, you shiver as the words spread throughout your body. and that’s how you were both late to training. and long story short, your little girls came a lot quicker than expected.

your two children were exact clones of you and leah, it was uncanny how similar all of you were. your first daughter, ella, now 3 years old while your second daughter, lila, now 2.

the two little girls were inseparable and by the heavy influence of their mums (leah), they're absolutely obsessed with football, an absolute bonus that their mums were some of the best footballers in the world.

–

“mumma! mumma!” ella screams, little lila trailing along behind her, parroting her big sister’s words, “mumma! mumma!” lila giggles, both of the little girls sprinting towards your’s and leah’s bedroom.

the cute thing about your daughters is that they had a perfect mix between yours and leah’s accent, sometimes sounding more australian and sometimes sounding more english. you and leah loved it and everyone found it so fucking cute, how could you not?

leah grumbled, burying her face into the crook of your neck in an attempt to shut out the screeches coming from your girls.

“what could they want now?” leah groans, her lips brushing your neck, you card your hand through the top of the blonde’s hair, chuckling as the slightly older girl hid from her daughters. 

in leah’s defence, she just wasn’t really a morning person, especially on a rare weekday off, she loved her girls more than anything but she also really loved a lie in.

“mumma, mumma” you whisper in leah’s ear, making her squirm on top of you as you both giggled quietly before the storm that was your daughter’s came in.

ella makes it in first and effectively jumped on top of both of you, lila in the corner still struggling slightly to make it on the bed but getting there in the end and settling on your lap.

“good morning” lila chatters, making you and leah chuckle, leah flipping around to rest her back on the headboard to match your position.

“good morning bubbas, what did you need?” leah says cheerfully, contrasting her groans from two minutes ago.

“mumma, i have a question” ella says determinedly, leah’s eyebrows raise in surprise, all this fuss for a simple question, “okay, lovey” leah smiles.

lila on the other hand was not interested in her older sister’s questions, and so she cuddled up to you instead, resting her cheek on your chest as you both watched ella work up the courage to ask her question.

“mumma, do you have a crush on mummy?” ella says cheekily, you immediately snicker under your breath, she’s definitely learned this from preschool.

leah can't help but giggle as well, “do i have a crush on mummy?” leah clarifies, looking over at you with bright eyes and a cheeky smile before settling back on your oldest daughter.

“i have a big crush on mummy” she emphasises, watching ella’s face completely light up, not knowing she looked exactly the same, ella giggles, ultimately making you all giggle together, even little lila who was disinterested up until now.

leah leans down, whispering something in ella’s ear that you couldn't make out, until ella gives you a cheeky smile like she did to leah just before.

“mummy, do you have a crush on mumma?’ she snickers, you laugh immediately, trust leah to want confirmation from a child. “yeah mummy” leah smirks, sending you a sly wink, “yeah mummy” lila parrots, resting her chin on your chest and looking up at you in fascination.

you chuckle, pinching her cheek gently, “yes, i have a crush on mumma” you roll your eyes affectionately, ella now standing up in the bed and jumping up in down in the bed to show her excitement. 

lila scrambles from your lap, ella holding the little girl’s hand to help her up before they both jump up and down.

“kiss! kiss! kiss!” they chant, you can't stop giggling at your daughters, they are so much like you and leah.

leah wastes no time, smirking before her hand landed on the back of your head gently, pulling you in closer, you breathe out a laugh against her lips, “you heard them” she mutters, kissing you sweetly, keeping it extremely tame for the young girls.

the bright laughter from the two girls made you and leah laugh as well, you both found it endearing that they loved to see you both loved up.

–

you got up first the next day, both you and leah had a game today for arsenal, it was adorable how much your family bled arsenal through and through, much to the influence of your wife but who was anyone to complain?

“my babies, do you want chocolate chip pancakes or blueberry?” you ask the two girls, walking into the living room where they were both playing together and watching cartoons.

ella thought seriously for a moment, she was a little fussy like her mother but you didn't mind. if there was one thing that leah loved about you, it was your incredible patience. 

ella looked a little frustrated, looking between you and her sister, finding this a hard decision, oh if the big decisions in life were only this simple. “how about i make both?” you smile at them, ella nods enthusiastically, thanking you profusely as you giggled at her.

you get started on breakfast, knowing leah would be up soon, the game was in the afternoon so there wasn't too much of a rush. you make them into love heart shapes because you're not an animal.

you were in your own little world until you felt two familiar arms wrapping around your middle, “hi, gorgeous” leah mutters into your shoulder, gently swaying you side to side, “good morning, baby” you smile, leaning back into leah and relishing the contact. 

“look at you, baby, your little hearts are so cute” she says affectionately, kissing your cheek repeatedly, “do you like them?” you grin, looking up at leah sheepishly once you see her lovestruck eyes.

“i like this one a little more” she places her hand gently over your heart, leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly, “but these are a close second” she says cheekily against your lips before pressing her to yours again tenderly, giving your behind a quick smack before getting the girls to come to the table for breakfast. 

you all ate together before you all started to get ready for the game, helping both of your girls into their jerseys that said “mummies” on the back, something they both wore with pride.

once you all got to the emirates stadium, the two girls with much popularity amongst the team arrived with all of you. you had lila perched on your hip while ella was carried on leah’s back, yours and leah’s hand linked together as you walked through the hallways up to the change rooms.

up until warm ups, the girls would usually stay beside you until your families got there, then they would be passed off to watch the game from the stands, one of their favourite activities.

they loved watching you and leah do anything but there was just something so special about them watching you play football together.

–

the game was successful with a 2-1 win, one of the goals from you with an assist from leah, you swore you heard your little girls cheering from the other side of the pitch.

you and leah, after exchanging handshakes and hugs with the teams, you both sprint towards the friends and family section, extending both of your arms out to them. 

“mummy! you got a goal!” ella exclaims, hugging you tightly as you lifted her over the barrier, “just for my girls” you grin, nuzzling your nose against hers, making her giggle.

leah holding lila smiles at the both of you, peppering the little girl’s face with kisses, making her giggle as well, you all chatter amongst each other before you took them around to take photos and autographs with everyone.

almost every game, hundreds of people always had gifts for ella and lila, clearly loving to spoil them as much as leah did, and you as well but leah always went over the top, she's a williamson after all.

“look, baby, do you see the sign with our names on it? we’re going to sign it” you tell ella, the girl squealing excitedly as you ran over to the fans. you talk with the fans with leah, signing shirts and signs and posing for photos.

“mummy, can i sign it?” ella whispers in your ear, you chuckle with a nod, helping the girl sign her name while leah helped with lila, “you're naturals, lovies!” leah says proudly, pulling you closer with a hand on your hip to walk basically on top of her.

both of the girls are placed down on the pitch and immediately ran over to the middle of the pitch where a ball was being passed between beth and steph.

“auntie bethy!” ella cheers, lila following behind screaming a little “auntie stephy!” your teammates brighten immediately, “my favourite versions of (y/n) and leah!” beth teases, laughing as leah flips her off subtly from way back. the older girls pass the ball to the little girls and laughing while playing along to them.

“they're so cute” you coo, “who, beth and steph?” leah jokes, making both of you giggle, “yes, and our children” you laugh, leah pulling you into a tight hug, “they're very cute, and so are you” leah smiles, kissing your nose affectionately.

“so are you” you smile, kissing leah softly before resting your cheek on leah’s chest, both of you watching your little girls with a proud smile.

you and leah enjoy the intimate moment before the girls run up and hug both of your legs, making you and leah lay on the floor as they flop down on top of you.

“mummy, our girls are so strong!” leah fake groans, you nod in a agreement, “so strong, mumma!” you breathe out tiredly to keep up the act, ella and lila smile proudly, all four of you giggling in the middle of the pitch before it was time to go home.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by stephcatley and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: my three favourite girls in the whole world

view all comments

yourname: guys, leah cried over this photo after she took it

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you promised you wouldn’t say that!

↳ yourname: baby! i can’t help it, it was so cute!

bethmead_: how you produced two absolutely perfect children is beyond me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: so rude bethany

↳ yourname: they are perfect aren’t they

arsenalwfc: also our three favourite girls

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i am literally right here

↳ yourname: oops

[sophsicle]

the thing is, i do not have any interest in a hockey player who falls in love. i am interested in a hockey player who is utterly destroyed by the boy standing across the ice from him. the boy he met when he was 17 maybe, at juniors. and then 18 at the draft. who he hated because they were competitors. who he hated so much that he couldn't even think about anything else. until he didn't know who he was if he wasn't competing against him. wasn't fighting against him. wasn't thinking about him. wasn't pressing him into the boards. wasn't holding him too long in the handshake line. wasn't sneaking into hotel rooms with him. and having hushed conversations in corners. and less hushed conversations in beds where they were soft and young and childish in a way they could never be on the ice. until the day they stop. because, well, it's not like this can go on forever, right? because we've been playing this sport since we were three and we will keep playing it until our bodies are so broken they have to scrape us off the ice. because this is our life. this is our whole life. this sport. and it has no room for boys who are soft and young and childish. who hold each other a little too tight. so now this hockey player stands on the ice and he looks at this boy and he aches like his whole body is bruised even though the game hasn't started yet, even though no one has touched him. and he wonders "if we had different dreams, in a different world, do you think it would have been us? i know you have kids and a wife now but - but do you think it would have been us?"

later, after the game, a reporter will shove a mic in the boy's face and ask him about the goals he scored and the goals he didn't. about the hockey player who's been his rival since they were 18.

"17" he corrects.

the reporter blinks. "sorry?"

"since we were 17" smiling in a way that feels like a sob. "he's a fierce competitor," hand rubbing against a stubble rough jaw, thinking about something that started long before he could grow a proper beard. "he's my favourite guy to play against, someone you miss when he's not there," another smile that the reporter has to look away from. "he has beautiful hands." he can't say what he wants to, of course. which is that he looks forward to these games more than any other. counts down the days. marks them on the calendar. because there are pieces of himself that he gave away when he was too young to know better. that he asked the hockey player to keep. and he has, because that's the kind of guy he is. because no one ever taught him how to put shit down. so when they go out there on the ice together, the boy gets to be whole again, for a little bit. he gets to be whole.

"Thank you" the reporter says.

And the boy nods. "Of course."

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously / next plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

[writteninthebinds]

Teach Me

A Jayvik fic - Part One

Word-count: Not sure. It’s super short though,

Summary: Jayce and Viktor attend the last summer banquet.

Warnings: None for part one. Nsfw in later parts.

Notes: Pt. 2 ?? I have so much more to say about this so I definitely could. Also, this is my first long form writing in a really long time. There might be mistakes lmao. I’m still figuring out formatting and everything so it’s not the best but it’s something! 🫶🏼

It’s almost comical how quickly they get parted from one another. Large innate doors swing open, Viktor’s shoulder brushing his own, and then Jayce is swept into a crowd. It’s routine. It’s hell.

It’s the last banquet of the summer.

People from all over are present to talk guidelines and shipments, detailed plans for the winter months ahead. Handshakes, small talk, and shady partnership offers whispered into his ears all evening.

He has a partner already, one he will eventually find on a secluded balcony.

Vik isn’t hard to find. He’s like a plucked nerve, thrumming and humming beneath Jayce’s tan skin. A beacon of honey amber eyes already looking down at him.

Jayce could find him anywhere.

He slips away as soon as he can, happy to be from within the stifling wave of socialization. It’s warm tonight, even underneath the stars. A thin layer of sweat coats the muscles of his back.

“Jayce.”

Viktor speaks his name softly without turning around. His voice is a living contradiction. Like something wild and free was rendered and polished smooth. Dark. Rich. It sends a warmth spreading like fire through Jayce’s soft belly.

“And here you are,” Jayce breathes. Finally above the chaos, and underneath the weighted blanket of a dark sky. Viktor by his side. He’s at ease.

“You had fun, no?” Viktor asked. There’s a lilt to his accent, light and teasing. Jayce smirks, huffs even. A dramatic shift of his head towards Viktor sends his longer hair, shaggy and unruly, twisting that way. Hazel eyes catching golden, they burst into laughter.

“You know better than anyone that this is no more my scene than it is yours. I got so swept up in it before, the pressure of it all. Hmm, so no, but I did have fun stealing these for you,” Jayce declares.

Palm upturned, he showcases a stash of Viktor’s favorite candy, slightly melted from the heat of the night and his body on his trek to the room. A delicate rarity, a special shipment of rich fudge, wrapped around a creamy peanut butter center.

Jayce soaks in Viktor’s full attention finally. That nerve thrumming deeply. Vik’s body turned to him, smile fond and eyes bright. The only sounds to follow are candy wrappers unfolding.

Jayce watches Viktor turn back towards the crowd. His dark brows crease as he narrows his gaze, trying to see just what or who below them is keeping Viktor’s attention. He follows to the twirling sea of fabric and skin. People dancing in the moonlight.

Silence. Then -

“Teach me how to dance.”

Thrum.

Viktor’s eyes are back on his, ever clear and steady. Burning. Jayce’s skin is practically vibrating.

“That is the one and only thing about these events I envy,” Viktor continues. Voice scratching its way out of Jayce’s throat, he ventures, “So why aren’t you dancing?”

“Were you just not listening to me? I do not know how,” Vik huffs. Sass coats each word, dripping from them like molasses.

A beat.

Viktor’s hand drops from the railing to his thigh, knuckles rapping against the brace wrapped around his leg. Oh. Viktor’s gaze is unwavering. He’s not shy or ashamed, at least not here, not now, with Jayce. He just wants to dance. To learn.

Thrum.

“Okay. Yeah. Of course. Let’s, uh, more room inside,” Jayce says with all the confidence and conviction he doesn’t feel. He gestures towards the french doors leading into the suite, following Viktor and his smile inside.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not letting my husband have a say for the guest list of our baby shower?

I (21 f) and my husband (25 m) moved very quickly in our relationship, much to the judgement of my sister. We moved in with each other after a month of dating and she basically told me it was a stupid idea. We also got eloped with no family or friends there four months after that. When I texted my sister we got married (yes, I texted everyone instead of called) she asked if it was a joke and when I said yes then sent a picture of marriage license as proof, she didn’t respond for days. She called me later which I sent to voicemail, which was basically her crying saying she always imagined she’d be at my wedding and was hurt. I was upset because no one was invited or even told about the engagement; that was the point of eloping. The rest of my family was pretty happy for us though and I focused on that.

We didn’t talk for months because I wanted an apology, or at least a congratulations on getting married. She texted me a few times about nothing important (she sent a few memes). An apology never happened, but I started to text her again because I found out I was pregnant and wanted her to know about it. I called her about it eventually and she was supportive.

Before the Not Talking stage happened, her and my husband didn’t get along. She has made multiple passive aggressive comments about our relationship in the past. There was one time she visited us that made my husband upset because she showed up with little notice and also insisted on visiting again when our cat gave birth to her litter of kittens. She talked about helping and I didn’t really think anything of it. My husband later said he was upset she acted like she knew our cat better than us based off a couple of other comments she made and didn’t like how she invited herself over. I don’t think she meant anything negative about it, but it was annoying she insisted on one specific cat thing we told her we had under control and didn’t stop pestering until my mom called the vet to ask for advise and the vet agreed with my husband and I about how we handled the cat situation. I’m not sure if I explained that well but I honestly don’t know how to describe it without going into too much detail. This is just background info.

My husband and I wanted to do a gender reveal for the baby. We agreed on the theme and had a general date in mind. I invited my immediate family, best friend, and his immediate family that he talked to (which only consisted of three people). He said he didn’t want my sister at the gender reveal and this caused a huge fight. He said if she was there then he wouldn’t show up and I could tell him the babies gender on the phone. I cancelled the gender reveal because I didn’t want to uninvite my sister when she hasn’t made any bad comments in months and also wasn’t about to have my husband not be there. In my mind, there’s zero point in having one if both parents aren’t there. We found out gender by having our doctor write it down on a paper and we opened it later by ourselves. We told everyone over the phone what we are having.

Now, I am pretty far along in my pregnancy and my family wanted to set up a baby shower for me. I let them and we set up a date for it. My husband and I talked about the baby shower multiple times and looked forward to it. I Facebook invited the same people I invited to the gender reveal to the baby shower and he wasn’t happy when he saw my sister was again on that list. Him and my sister has only seen each other one time during these months, which was at a funeral. My sister initiated a handshake which he accepted and asked how he was. He answered fine and that was the end of it.

The baby shower argument was the same for gender reveal. He didn’t want her there and he didn’t want to come if she was there. He said I shouldn’t want someone who has done nothing but disrespect both of us in the past year to be at this event and should get a say in who comes and who doesn’t. There’s no excuse for the things my sister has done and said but it felt wrong to exclude her. If she wasn’t going to be invited to the baby shower, then what was his opinion on our son’s birthdays and other events? We couldn’t do this forever. She hasn’t been rude in months but we never got an apology. I’m also a little bitter about it but I’m trying to not be harsh. At this point, I didn’t say much when my husband said she couldn’t be there. This is because we just got done with a different argument about something completely different and he said he was done about certain things. I said ‘like what?’ and he told me he didn’t want my sister at the baby shower.

He said he wouldn’t have invited anyone that has disrespected me and I shouldn’t either. It sounds fair but it also sounds very black and white. I get along with the family he talks to outside of family events. I don’t get along with a couple of extended family members but he doesn’t get a say in who was invited to those events and never talks to them outside of those family events even before we were together. I didn’t really say anything for my argument because I knew he wouldn’t agree with it anyway. This sounds calm but he was very angry and I was crying pretty hard. He asked over and over again if she was coming to the baby shower and I refused to respond. If I say she’s not coming then I’ll have to follow my word and uninvite her, probably causing arguments within my family. If I say she is then he won’t come. (I’m not sure if this is relevant but my husband and I are both autistic and have been known to shut down and stim when we’re upset). He said he’s tired of being disrespected when I refused to answer for 30+ minutes and wanted a divorce. He crumbled up our marriage license and took my wedding ring off my finger.

He didn’t say anything about the baby shower and started asking questions about the divorce. ‘How much do you want in child support? When do you want to do visitation? Etc.’ I refused to answer for a while but he kept asking and I mostly gave vague answers like ‘whatever you want’ all while still crying. I didn’t say much except to say he was staying and we weren’t getting a divorce.

I don’t remember what happened next and what I said, but he eventually said that I had one more chance to choose him because he’s always chosen me. This is true because he has put me first. He works a lot while I’m not working this pregnancy and always makes sure I eat and everything. I’m not sure what’s going on with baby shower. I think he said that she can come if I put up boundaries about being nice otherwise she can’t come. I think this will start an unnecessary fight because she hasn’t done anything in many months so it seems insulting. I didn’t say anything though. We fell asleep and cuddled and he apologized the next morning before he left for work. He said he was more mad that I refused to talk. I, personally, was more upset about the marriage license he crumpled up. I still didn’t say anything but ok. He still hates my sister and expects me to tell her to be respectful.

I don’t know what to think really. I sound like a jerk for not letting him have a say for baby shower. It is his kid too. I also don’t want to divide my family by not inviting my sister, but he’s also my family. I know he acted like a jerk for the argument but that doesn’t necessarily means he’s wrong about the guest list and having a say. So would I be TA?

What are these acronyms?

[keehomania]

MARK LEE (마크리) — BBF (DRABBLE)

✧.* MINORS DNI (18+)

there was something so appealing about having something you couldn’t. in this case, someone. you didn’t spend too much time wondering, asking why things were the way they were, you knew you had to go to the flow. maybe it was wrong, maybe you lacked morals and the right mind. maybe you just liked the chase, the thrill of it. whatever it was, you were in for it. you were so fucking in for it.

MARK LEE was insatiable. you didn’t understand at first but, then again, you didn’t pay much attention, and neither did he. you were used to your older brother bringing him around, an entire group of his friends huddled together. whether it was in his room, the living room, or outside, they were constantly there, a joint nuisance during your pre-teen years. you were just as much of a nusiance, bugging them, pestering them with whatever seemed to be on your mind at the time. you’d get a couple laughs, even if they were forced, but it was only right. you were their best friend’s baby sister, and they didn't mind you too much. they thought you were adorable, like a cute version of your brother. no matter how it seemed to you, what you felt for mark was just puppy love. it wasn’t something anybody found weird, as obvious as it was. you clung to him, laughed at his shitty jokes, and everybody found it adorable. there was nothing serious to it.

those years flew by faster than any of you had anticipated. a few summers later and you had grown into a beautiful, mature woman. you had put all the more care into your body, your studies, and your career. your brother often joked that he couldn’t recognize you, that you had grown up way too fast. he wasn’t far off, actually. you had spent a few summers away, studying abroad in greece for shits and giggles. the distance wasn’t as ideal as the progress, but you didn't regret a thing.

you came back a changed woman, and you were more than pleased with yourself. you missed korea more than anything, even the less than pleasantries that came with it. your brother was the first to greet you, embracing you in a big hug the minute you came in. he hadn’t seen you in years, and he was more than stunned with the outcome. “wow, you've gotten uglier,” he joked as he ruffled your hair. you only rolled your eyes at him, slapping his shoulder lightly. “you haven't changed at all, i see.” he mocked your words, sticking his tongue out after to emphasize one thing—just because you had changed doesn't mean everybody else did.

when it was time for his friends to come around, you realized just how little everything else had changed. your brother and his friends stuck to their usual routine, just like when they were younger. you didn’t think much of it, even though the thought of mark still lingered in your mind. you did your best to push it aside, reminding yourself that whatever it was you felt—you felt it ages ago. you were a kid, it was puppy love, and you didn't know any better.

when they finally came around, they made themselves comfortable in the backyard. your brother had informed them of your return, and they were ecstatic to see you, to see how you were doing. to see if you had changed, to see if you were dating, thought one of them in particular. the first thing that you did was dash out of the house to greet them. there were whoops of approval, a few warm hugs and handshakes, all mingling in the air with a few cheers of, “we missed you” and “you've changed so much.” you were thrilled with the feedback, taking in every bit of what everybody had to say. all but one.

mark didn’t know what exactly it was that he was expecting to see when you walked out. your brother spoke highly of your change, saying it was like you had matured overnight, but mark took his words with a grain of salt. he managed to stay afloat despite his anticipation, until you had finally revealed yourself. his knuckled turned white with the force of his fingers clutching his seat, yet he couldn’t utter a word. everyone was able to say something, to greet you, everyone but him. the words were there, he knew exactly what it was he wanted to say, but they refused to come out.

you met his gaze swiftly, failing to realize the sheer tension behind them, even as everybody quieted down. “hey, markie,” you approached him with a soft smile, standing on your toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “missed you so much.” he felt as if time had come to a halt, his body growing more warm and more intense with every passing second. he felt the way your arms enveloped him, and all he could smell was you. it was a familiar scent, a comforting one tinted with vanilla and cinnamon.

he finally forced himself to hug you back, his arms snaking around your waist. “missed you more, (y/n).” fuck, was he grateful to have finally said something, anything. it was when you finally pulled away that he finally got a good look at you, at what he had been missing out on for years on end. your brother had sugarcoated his praise and approval, you had changed in ways that felt vulgar to say aloud. it was the way the european sun had done you justice, lightening your hair and tanning your skin. he found himself face-to-face with said justice, the white tan lines peeking under your tank top giving him all the indication.

he saw it in the way your eyes beamed with something foreign, something that wasn’t childlike nor pure. it was something dangerous, something intimidating that forced his gaze to lock with yours, decorated by black strokes of eyeliner. it was in the way the tank top hung from your body, hovering just above your belly button—no, something hovering just above your pierced belly button. fuck, he could feel it now, in all the wrong places. it was in the way he could see your hard nipples under the sheer top, visible with the cold air brushing over them. it was in the way your short were too tight and, well, too short, hanging just an inch below your ass. he felt disgusting for looking, and he knew it was obvious.

“i’m gonna go back inside,” you announced aloud to everyone, but yours eyes never left mark. neither did the stupid smirk playing on your lips, fuck, maybe not everything changed. “it’s getting a little cold for me.” everybody murmured hums of approval, nothing too special, but mark was frozen in his spot. he watched you as you turned back around and went back inside, his eyes glazing over everything—the way your hair shifted, your shoulderblades, the curve of your back, and your ass. he felt awful, but he couldn't help himself. everything that seemed cute years ago no longer seemed cute.

“you better watch yourself, mark lee,” your brother cut through the silence as he sipped his beer, his tone accusatory in a playful way. “she’s still my baby sister.”

you were his baby sister, that was the only thing that hadn’t changed. what really changed was mark. he held it off for as long as he could, telling himself it didn’t matter, that you were both young and didn't understand what feelings were. you still didn’t understand, neither of you did, but feelings didn't matter anymore. you didn’t have to understand feelings to understand hormones.

“it’s weird seeing you drink,” you couldn't bite back the smirk playing on your face as you heard his voice. you leaned forward, arms crossed against the kitchen counter as you sipped your beer. it was like you had anticipated his arrival from the second you walked back into the house, it almost felt calculated. you didn’t turn back around, you could feel his presence, his gaze. “really weird.”

you hummed in response as you sipped your drink. you looked up at the window in front of you, locking eyes with his reflection, the smirk never leaving your face. “i’m full of surprises, right?” you practically purred, leaning forward as the straps of your top spilled down your shoulders. he felt the strain in his pants, one he prayed you wouldn't notice as his gaze flickered between your eyes and the valley of your cleavage, now all the more visible to him.

he tried to distract himself, to stop himself from giving in. his eyes fell to the floor, falling on a can of beer that either could’ve fallen to the floor, or been meticulously placed there. mark didn't know better, he never knew better. “you dropped a can,” he didn’t mean for his voice to tremble as much as it did, but it was too late. he was like a mouse in a room full of traps.

your smirk didn't falter as your gaze dropped to the can that you had placed by your feet. “you’re right,” you murmured as you sunk down. your legs remained upright, upper body bending down as you grabbed the can. you didn’t hear the way he cussed under his breath, but you didn’t need to. you saw it in his eyes as they dropped to your ass, the material of your shorts stuffed in between the mound of flesh, giving him the view he had been silently praying for. “didn't even notice.”

he wasn’t sure what it was that finally did it for him, but he had just about enough. you had turned your back to him once more, as if you were oblivious to what you were doing, but he caught the smirk on your face. it was just about enough to piss him off. his footsteps were heavy as he approached you, his breath hitching slightly as he bent down. his chest was tight, his heart thumping against his ribcage like a drum. “you’re really pushing it, aren’t you?” he spoke, his voice gruff with irritation. you scoffed, your hand grabbing his arm for balance as you turned, your clothed breasts brushing against his forearm.

you finally turned to face him, a glint in your eye. “pushing what exactly?” your tone was playful, taunting even. you had always been a tease, but now it was different. it wasn’t the same playful banter from when you were younger, it was something more, something that had his blood boiling.

his eyes searched yours, looking for any semblance of innocence he might've missed. he found none. “you know what i’m talking about,” he breathed, his hand hovering over your arm for a second too long. your skin felt hot under his touch, and he knew you felt it too. “gonna do something we’ll both regret.”

you leaned in closer, your breath grazing his cheek. “you think?” your voice was a whisper, filled with challenge. “i’m not a little girl anymore, mark.” your hand found its way to his chest, feeling the thump of his heart beneath his shirt. his eyes narrowed, the reminder hitting too close to home. “you're my best friend's baby sister,” he practically snapped, his frustration reaching a peak. his anger was misdirected, and he was aware of that. what he should’ve done was remind himself of the facts, the same facts that seemed to fight the tent in his pants. you stepped back, feigning innocence as you sipped from your can.

his gaze dropped to your mouth, watching the way your lips wrapped around the can. he could feel his resolve slipping away, his body begging him to do something, anything, to get closer to you. “it’s wrong,” he said, the words feeling foreign as they left his mouth. you set your beer down, a knowing smile playing on your lips. “is it?” your hand reached up, playing with the strands of your hair.

his hand shot out, grabbing yours before it could reach your hair. “your brother,” he began, his voice strained. “your brother would kill me.”

you stepped closer again, your hand still in his grasp. “he’ll never find out,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. you leaned in, pressing your body against his. “no one’s gonna find out.”

his eyes darkened, his grip on your hand tightening. “we shouldn't,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. “you're playing with fire.” you leaned in even closer, your tits pressing against his chest. “maybe i like getting burned,” you murmured, your other hand reaching up to trace his jawline.

his control snapped. he crushed his mouth against yours, his tongue delving deep, tasting every part of you. his hands roamed your body, feeling every curve and dip. you moaned into his mouth, your body responding instinctively to his touch. the kitchen floor was cold under your bare feet as you stepped out of your shorts, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you. “mark,” you whimpered, pulling him closer. his response was to lift you onto the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. he didn’t hesitate, his hand reaching into your panties, feeling the wetness that had been building up since you saw him again. “so eager,” he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

you pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, revealing his muscular chest. your hands roamed over his biceps, taking in the warmth of his skin. “fuck,” you breathed as he kissed down your neck, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.

his hand found your tits, his thumb flicking over your hardened nipples as his free hand worked on your panties. you arched your back, pushing yourself closer to him. “mark,” you repeated, your voice needy. his mouth found your nipple, sucking and biting gently, making you gasp. his other hand found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “shit, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with disbelief as your juices coated his finger, leaving his nail slick and shiny.

you were lost in the feeling, your hips bucking against his hand. “please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whine. he complied, his hand moving faster, his teeth biting down harder. then, he pulled away, leaving you panting, your eyes glazed with desire. “not yet,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “i wanna see all of you.”

you didn’t argue, letting him pull your tank top over your head, revealing your bare breasts. “just like that, fuck,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over the flesh of your tits, stopping at the sight of the metal piercing that clung to your belly button. every bit of it helped him see you in a different light, a light that made his cock painfully hard in his pants. he took in the sight of you, so needy, messy and on display for him. it was wrong and he knew it, but he was too entranced to care anymore.

his hand snuck up to your mouth, his thumb pressing into your lower lip as he stared into your eyes. “you're so fucking tempting,” he groaned, the words slipping out despite his better judgment. you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly before speaking, “so are you.” it was all the invitation he needed.

his hand moved down to the button of his pants, the sound of his zipper echoing through the kitchen. he stepped closer, his cock springing free, thick and long. you took in the sight of him, licking your lips, your eyes wide with anticipation. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “more than you’ll ever know,” you replied, your voice just as breathless.

his hand moved behind your head, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer to him. your eyes never left his as he guided his cock to your mouth, the tip teasing your lower lip. you parted your lips, letting him in, feeling the warmth and hardness of him on your tongue. his grip tightened, his hips bucking slightly as you took him in deeper. your eyes watered slightly, but you didn’t care. you liked the way he felt, the way he filled your mouth. you liked the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes rolled back.

you moved your head back, letting his dick fall out of your mouth with a wet pop. “so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, his voice strained with lust.

his hand left your hair, moving to the small of your back, pressing you closer as he kissed you again. you could feel his length pressing against your stomach, leaving a wet trail against your belly button as it slid down to your pussy. your hand found its way to his cock, stroking him gently. “you’re gonna get me all dirty,” you murmured against his lips, your voice teasing. “you want it clean?” he responded, a hint of mischief in his tone. “maybe later,” you replied, your hand moving faster, your thumb smearing precum over the tip of his cock.

his hands moved to your ass, cupping the flesh, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer. you could feel his cock sliding through your folds, the head brushing against your clit. “mark,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist. “i know,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “i know you want it.”

he didn’t wait for you to respond, didn't wait for permission. he pushed into you, filling you in one swift motion. you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “fuck,” you whispered, the pain mixing with pleasure. he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “more,” you demanded, your voice needy.

his thrusts grew deeper, harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. the kitchen counter was cold against your back, but you didn’t care. all you could feel was the heat between your legs, the way his cock filled you up, the way his hands held onto you like you were his. “you're so fucking tight,” he groaned, his hips moving with a ferocity that had you seeing stars.

you met each of his thrusts with your own, your body moving in sync with his. “fuck me harder,” you begged, your voice strained. he complied, his hips slamming into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. you could feel yourself getting closer, your orgasm building like a storm inside of you. “mark, i’m gonna—"”

his hand came down, colliding with the flesh of your ass, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “not yet,” he grunted, his rhythm not faltering. “i’m not done with you.” you moaned, your body responding to his dominance. he reached around, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing it in circles as he fucked you. you knew it was risky, but the thrill of it only made you want it more. he was lost in the pleasure, the morbidly amazing feeling of your cunt milking everything he had to give you. his cock was big, hitting all the right places that had you clawing at his back. he held you in place, arms draped around your waist as he drilled into you. he made sure one hand toyed with the flesh of your ass, gripping and probing hard enough to paint bruises. his other hand roamed over your tits, kneading the flesh as his thumb tugged at your nipples, but his curiosity got the better of him.

he couldn’t help the way his hand dropped to your stomach, fingertips tracing the piercing. he loved the way the light adorned the material, it was like eye candy to him. he kept his hand there as he pounded into you, the realization of just how big he was compared to you dawning upon him. it had to do with how your cunt struggled to take him whole, the outline of his cock practically under the skin of your stomach. he was entranced by it, thrusting into you just a little harder to really see it. you were so small compared to him, yet there you were, taking him whole. he placed his palm ovee your stomach as he continued to tear your pussy apart, his hand clasped over the outline of his cock. it was like he was jacking himself off, while he was inside you.

the pressure grew as his pace quickened, your body tightening around him. “please, ’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain. “do it,” he urged, his hand pressing down harder on your stomach. your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it. he groaned, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his own release. “gonna fill this pussy up,” he warned, his voice strained. “please,” you moaned, your cunt clenching around him.

his cock swelled, pulsing as he came inside you, his cum filling you up. your legs tightened around his waist, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. your breath came put ragged and harsh, your chest heaving as his cum spilled down your thighs. he leaned into you, his forehead pressing against yours.

you could feel his heart racing against your chest, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. “what now?” he whispered, his voice filled with uncertainty. “now, we clean up,” you replied, your voice low and sultry, your hand reached down, wrapping around his still hard cock. “and maybe we do it again,” you suggested, your eyes never leaving his.

his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of regret or hesitation. what he found was a spark of excitement, a challenge. “you’re insatiable,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “a little bit,” you replied, your smile widening. “now, get me off this counter before i get a bruise.”

he chuckled, his grip on your ass tightening as he lifted you off the counter. your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. “where to?” he asked, his voice still thick with lust. “my room,” you murmured, your eyes half-lidded. “we have all night.”

✧.*

[blkkasa]

Basketball Player! Connie x Instagram Model! Black Oc

Summary: you being his number one biggest fan (🤭)

Contexts/Warnings: a short-long fic, modern, short smut, fluff, famous instagram model black oc (Aya), a well-known basketball player connie springer, etc.

Notes: i made this because i missed writing fics and stuff but keep in mind... this is my first time writing a fic on this app so don't expect it to be perfect in any way.

Word Count: 1232

"GO CONNIE! YOU CAN DO THIS"

He heard his girlfriend's voice and smiled while playing basketball. Everything about her motivates him to do anything, and all thanks to Sasha for introducing them to each other.

Aya and Sasha are sitting at the bleachers watching Connie from a distance but Sasha is having a problem getting no responses or answers from her other best friend.

"Aya, have you heard from Mikasa lately? Like... she isn't answering my calls or texts and here I am asking you where she's at" Sasha gets annoyed at her phone and looks at Aya like she's finna throw a fit at her.

"No girl. I haven't but if you do please remind me because... I need her to help me out picking outfits to wear for my next photoshoot next week."

"Oh don't worry bestie, I'll let you know but thanks for trying though. Ugh! Mikasa needs to answer her phone these days" Sasha whines.

Aya giggles at her friend's complaints about her best friend. She receives a message from her mom telling her to call her little sister at 5:00. "Okay mama..." She rolls her eyes while liking her mom's message and putting her phone back in her purse.

(2 hours later) The game ends and Connie's team wins.

Aya runs up to her boyfriend and gives him the biggest hug yet.

"Baby I'm so proud of you" She kisses him as she says this.

"Thank you mamas. I love you princess." He smiled at her and they both walked to the door by the lockers where the boys can grab their things out of their lockers.

"I'll wait out here while you grab your things."

"Okay beautiful" He winks at her.

Aya was worried about everything, her mom, her friends, and especially her boyfriend. She thought about what would happen tomorrow since it was going to be a long day. She scrolls on her phone looking at her friends' and celebrities' posts, liking them as if she hasn't been active on there since three weeks ago after her last photoshoot. Connie comes back with his things and sneaks behind her to give her a hug and give her neck kisses.

"Hey love, I'm back and I also have a surprise for you at my house" He smirked, loving everything about her.

" Oh? A surprise? For me?" She giggles

"Yes for you mamas" He chuckled and grabbed her by her hand and they walked towards Sasha.

"You're so sweet, you know?" Aya looked at him with glee and kissed him on his cheek.

"Yes princess" He kissed her hand and smiled.

"OH SHIT HEY GUYS" Sasha looked at them and hugged them

"Yo sasha wassup" Connie hugged her back and they did their little signature handshake.

"Hey sash" Aya winked at her

"Oh my gosh. You guys are would never believe what just happened to me"

"What happened?" The couple looked at her confused and interested at what Sasha was going to say.

"So... this beautiful man came up to me and asked me out on a date and bro. When I tell yall, i was screaming. I WAS SCREAMING but not to loud" Sasha was smiling so hard and cheesy about this dream boy.

"Okayyy boo" Aya cheered for her

"Oh shit sasha has finally found her a guy" Connie laughs

"Okay... not too much" Sasha rolled her eyes and smacked him by his arm

"No but in all seriousness he better treat you right or ill beat the shit outta his ass. Like i don't fucking play that shit" Connie huffed.

"Connie, chill... it's fine" Sasha chuckled

Jean and Eren came by them after communicating with the team.

"Wassup guys" The boys came towards them

"Oh shit is that Aya??" Eren looked at her and hugged her

"Heyyyy renn" She hugged him while jokingly slapped the back of his head and ran behind connie from him.

"OW???" He looked so shocked to the point that he didn't even process what just happened to him.

"my bad" Aya laughed

The group walked to the parking lot and said goodbyes to each other.

"Hey babe?"

"Yes mamas?" He turned to look at her while walking to his car.

"So... this morning after you left, my mama called me about something and i wanted to ask you... are you available next week? Because I asked my boss if you would like to participate in my photo shoots?"

"Really??? Yes, pretty girl, anything for you" He kissed her and opened the door for her.

"Yayyy omg" She hugged and got inside his car.

Connie got inside the driver's seat, buckled up, and drove home. He grabs her thighs and squeezed them while focusing on the road. Aya groaned a bit and moved his hand between her legs, letting him do the work. He gets to the red light and looks at her while putting his hand inside her pants. She groaned a bit louder after he rubbed her cunt, looking at her and smirked.

"You like this huh mamas?" He winked at her and rubbed her cunt a little faster.

"Ngh... yes" She moaned.

The light turned green and before he drove home, he drove into an empty parking lot where nobody could see them.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, removing his hand from her beautiful cunt while letting her remove her seatbelt, and got on top of his lap.

They made out for 10 minutes and removed all their clothes off. They switched places and he began to devour her.

"f-fuck! connie.... a-ah!" She gripped his neck for support while her legs were around his shoulders.

"You taste so good mama... shit! i could do this all day with you princess" He kisses and licks her up until she cums. He devoured her for 5 minutes. He kissed her thighs and bit them giving her bite marks.

"c-connie.... oh! you f-feel... s-so good... ngh!" She looks at him with teary eyes while he fingers her.

"ngh... mamas... you look so damn gorgeous crying for me, fuck...!" He fingers her faster until she cums on his face.

"FUCK" She cummed all over him.

They sat back to their seats and heavily breathed for 5 minutes trying to get their breaths back.

"Hey pretty girl, when we get home ill run us some bath water and order pizza. okay?"

"Okay babe." She blew him a kiss.

Connie looked at his phone checking any messages his friends or family sent him. He received 100 messages from the gc, 20 messages from his mom, and 5 messages from Jean.

"Shit. That's alot of fucking messages" He sighed.

Aya giggled at him and put her clothes back on while he did the same. They drove home without saying a word to each other.

(20 minutes later)

"Hey princess, I got your surprise in the room. go look" He carried her inside the house and put her down on the floor to take their jackets and shoes off.

Aya walked to their room and saw flowers, chocolate, candles, two presents, and an envelope on their king sized bed.

"OMG!! FOR ME?? THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY" She hugged so hard and gave him face kisses.

"Yes babe everything is yours, who else would i give it too" He laughed and kissed her face.

"It doesn't matter. all i know is that this stuff is mines" She smiled and closed the door.

@blkkasa

Notes: so if yall want visuals of Aya, Connie, and their fits in this whole fic then let me know cause I got yall. Also, let me know who i should write about next when i upload a poll, okay? thank you babes 💗.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Day 1 of @hprecfest - First fic you read/first fic you remember reading

I started reading in the early 2000s, before HBP was published, so this is a tricky one to start off with! I vividly remember reading along to Cassandra Clare's Draco Trilogy and Maya's Underwater Light - both WIPs at the time, and neither freely available now 💀 if anyone else was around then, though, I have compiled a reclist of Vintage Drarry Fics (2001-2006, including such classics as Irresistible Poison, Beautiful World, Seamus is Seamus, and Love Under Will).

The fic I've chosen to rec today is the one that brought me back into fandom after a decade out; indirectly I suppose it's the reason I'm here at all, and so perhaps the lesson for any creators reading this is that you'll truly never know the impact your works have, even decades down the line!

Transfigurations, by Resonant : E, 71k, 2003 (MCD warning, but not for Drarry)

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Excerpt:

"You're going to have to talk about it sooner or later, Harry," she said. "I know it's hard for you, but --"

"Hermione --" He looked over her shoulder, searching for something that would distract her.

He succeeded a little better than he would have liked. First he caught a flash of pale hair in the shadows behind the top table. Then the shape came clear. An expensively tailored robe, an expensively bejewelled hand, an expensively barbered head, an expensively curled lip --

Was he never going to be free of Draco Malfoy?

Hermione followed Harry's eyes, and then she straightened up suddenly, crying, "Draco!" and ran to clasp Malfoy. Harry stared dumbly after her. "Mother sent a book for you, and some biscuits, they're in here somewhere --"

"Never mind that," Malfoy said, hugging her roughly. Harry felt a pang of fury. Since when was Hermione so cozy with Malfoy? "What I want to know is, did Mrs. Spenser ever find Bratleigh's tooth?"

"Oh, yes, it turned out to be in his little brother's forearm -- but how are you getting on without mechanical pencils?"

"Musgrove's Magic Pencils are nearly as good, though not quite so satisfying to click ..." Harry watched their two heads bent together, the dark and the fair. They were exactly the same height, like a matched set of figurines. Something extremely strange must have happened while he was in Florida.

Malfoy was still affecting the look of a wizard-bard from a storybook, Harry thought scornfully: pale hair falling to his shoulders, deep-plum robe heavily embroidered in the same color around the collar, narrow hands heavy with silver rings. Harry hadn't remembered his mouth being quite so red.

He looked up and caught Harry looking, and something crossed his face that wasn't quite the expected sneer. Hermione was tugging him over by the arm. "Harry just got in today from America, Draco, he didn't tell anybody he was coming, I think he forgot how to write a letter --"

"He's forgotten a lot of things, I imagine," Malfoy drawled, but he offered a hand. "Potter. Welcome back."

Damn it, even his languid, lingering handshake felt as though there was an insult behind it.

Where to start with this fic? The premise is that following the war, Harry left for Florida, settling down with a group of Indigenous wixen as they worked to set up a new school of wizardry. He returns, five years later, to a Hogwarts in trouble, rife with traps and curses laid by Death Eaters long gone, and to his old friends, whose letters he'd mostly ignored during his time abroad. Many of the old faces are familiar, but the addition of Malfoy, now, inexplicably, best friends with Hermione and Professor of Muggle Studies, irritates Harry beyond belief. Worst of all, when it comes to Cursebreaking, Harry and Malfoy's magic works best in sync, so to their horror they find themselves paired together as they work to make the school safe on its reopening.

There are so very many things to love about this fic. The narrative tone feels very true to canon, as does Harry's voice; possibly a result of its being published while the books were still coming out, but unlike many of the other fics written back then, it has a very adult feel. It's set entirely in Hogwarts, and with a huge cast of supporting characters, including a sneering, dramatic statue of the deceased Professor Snape, sexy handyman Ron, COMC Professor Charlie Weasley, and some wonderfully endearing OCs. The writing's lovely and clean, sparing, but still very visual, and full of worldbuilding details so unique and rich you'll be thinking about them years later (trust me). And the relationship development is truly second to none; we come to love this Malfoy reluctantly, but so so deeply, along with Harry. Also, this fic has, to me, the original rushed sex in a bathroom stall scene, and one of the sexiest undressing scenes you'll ever read. I absolutely adore it, can quote huge chunks, and every single time I read it it brings back everything I love about the world of Harry Potter. Go and add it to your MFL, and you can thank me later <3

If you read it, and if especially you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

[two-white-butterflies]

fuck, rich people. fucks rich people. - h. strong and d. targaryen

Description: You visit the beach and find two men that you can't resist. In which, you end up fucking both men on the countertops. (modern au) Rating: Mature 18+ (double penetration, oral [m. recieving], threesome.)

Fuck, rich people. They always seemed to have a problem of their own - most of the times they're the ones who make the problem - which led to you being stressed about work.

The beach was your favorite place - hearing the sound of the waves crashing on the shore did miracles on your mental state. It was calming, and refreshing. It was a good thing that your parents bought this beach-house, as you were the only one enjoying this scenery. 

You lean into the chair - breathing in the scent of salt in the wind. This was where you were meant to be. You take a lazy sip of the diet coke in your hands - perhaps you’d go on a swim a little later. 

Someone moves from behind you, easing the thoughts off your head. You turn your head to look at the person - and it was Daemon, your childhood friend, and Prince of Dragonstone. “I didn’t think that you’d be here,” he chuckles, holding the foldable chair near his hips. 

“I don’t think I’m ever not here,” your lips settle into a thin line. 

You haven’t seen each other in ten-years, and by the gods was he hot. Handsome to the point that you’d expect him on the cover of Calvin Klein. He had that smile - that made you think that he just finished having sex. His hair is all over the place - but at the same time, it falls perfectly into place. 

“How’s work?” he asked, folding the chair so he’d be sitting beside you. “Shit, as usual.” you answer - a chuckle escapes his mouth. “How about you? Still bothering the King?” you tease, remembering his bad-boy streak during university. He hasn’t changed - but he’s done a great job hiding his dirty laundry. 

“Oh come on, Viserys loves me.” he defended himself, staring at you with lust. He was a fucking predator - a beast in heat when he’s around you. 

“Only because he has to,” you sip on the straw, placing your phone on your lap - open for a conversation. 

Just a conversation for now. 

He pretends to search for something in his pockets, taking off his sunglasses to see better. “Shit, I totally forgot to bring any drinks - do you mind sharing?” he inquired and you nod. 

Where was this going? 

He scoots closer, bridging the wall between you. His hands reach for the can on your hand - taking his sweet moment once his hand settles on top of yours. You couldn’t remove your hands - some special force was preventing it. 

He brings the can to his lips - coating the rim with his sweet saliva. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, he removes his hand away from yours - to your surprise he wasn’t returning back to his chair. His hands were now reaching to cup your cheeks. He gives you a small kiss, letting go of you with a smile. 

“I’ll see you sometime.” he whispers, standing up and retrieving his chair. 

Working as a lawyer sucked - especially when your firm is one of the highest rated offices in New York City. You had to get out - somehow. You were on the beach the next day, but Daemon wasn’t there. His roommate, Harwin, was though - but you were unaware of this relationship. 

“It’s nice here,” Harwin smiled, writing his name on the sand. He was a jolly person to be around - he seemed to uplift other people’s mood without realizing it. “I agree,” you breathe with a chuckle - now sipping on a glass of coffee. 

You lend your hand - waiting for a handshake. “I’m (Your Name), I live in that house.” you point at the four-bedroom bungalow. He smiles at you - joy reaching his eyes. “I’m Harwin. Harwin Strong,” he shakes your hand, quickly inspecting your face. “I live in that house - I have a roommate.” he points at Daemon’s house and you nod. 

He didn’t seem like the type of guy who gets a roommate. “It’s nice meeting you,” you smiled in return. 

The devil possessed you - he lured you in with his kind smile, and now you were about to suck his cock inside a house that you weren't allowed to be in. Gods, the news outlets were going to fuck your reputation. "She's pretty huh?" Daemon tilted his head sideways, acting like you weren't in the room with them.

Harwin responded with an amused chuckle, watching you with your hands on his knees. He opened his legs wider, giving you a clearer view of his hard cock dripping with pre-cum. He cupped your cheeks gently, staring deep into your lust-filled eyes. The tabloids would have to wait - this cock in front of you was fucking delicious. You leaned down slowly, pressing a gentle kiss on his thighs.

"Good girl turning us on," Daemon growls playing with your hair - he's loved you since he was eighteen. All of his fucking teenage fantasies replayed back to this moment - his goddess on her knees like a slave.

Your tongue swirled around, pumping the mass inside your mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed. He could hardly speak with the heaven that he was feeling. You swirled your tongue around - making sure to reach every nerve ending on his penis. He moans your name, forgetting himself in the middle of bliss.

Daemon watches the both of you - turning himself on with the sight.

"Keep going," Harwin pleaded, wrapping his arms around your hair and pumping you on his length. His dick tasted salty and metallic - a faint reminder that he was human and that he tasted like a human. You gag around his length, taking your sweet time in adjusting.

You swirl your tongue again, smiling in content as his eyes flutter. Harwin was a good little boy. You licked the stripe of his length, sucking on his dick like a lollipop - fondling with your clothed pussy. They both turned you on.

You swirl your tongue.

Again.

Again and again, until his breathing heaved and tightened.

You could feel Daemon's hand on your head, bobbing you up and down the length of his roommates' dick. It only took a few moments until Harwin was spasming around your mouth.

"Open," Daemon commanded and you obeyed him - opening your mouth slightly to reveal the milky goodness underneath your tongue. He bites his lips, forcing his finger inside your mouth and splattering the cum inside. He removes his hand, wiping it on your face.

"Swallow, baby." Harwin ordered - and you found yourself obeying everything that they say.

You rise from your kneeling position.

Daemon welcomes you on top of his lap. You could feel his bulge press against you. He stares at Harwin who was still trying to regain his stance from his orgasm. "You good?" he inquires, wrapping his hands around your ass. Bouncy and firm like he likes them.

"Yeah," Harwin replies removing his shirt. "Get around her," Daemon motions, freeing his cock from his pants with ease. "You ever had two men at once," he teased, and you shake your head. "Prepare to be mind-blown," Harwin giggles, pressing his cock on your anus.

You lean slowly against Daemon's chest, providing Harwin with more angle - and Daemon lesser weight. You let out a small whimper, feeling Daemon enter your pussy. He groans feeling your tightness clamp against him.

"Dae," you moan - bouncing against him.

His tip was barely missing your womb, trailing along your cervix - making your eyes roll back.

Thank god for birth control.

He keeps pressing his cock inside - leaving you a moaning mess. He filled you with so much pressure that your cunny couldn't bare another second. You cum - squirting around his cock and leaving a white residue on his thighs.

You were about to collapse into him, but the familiar pressure began building once you feel Harwin behind you.

"Time for me, baby." he hums.

taglist: @schniiipsel @areaderinlove @edum123 @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @rozendiors @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @naturallyspontaneous @feyreduarte @hc-geralt-23 @ethereallocs @tired-ninfa  

[saursoob]

bad game (aim) - nishimura riki

paring: niki x reader // drabble + smau // word count: 626

you simply couldn’t believe it. some fucking friends you had. what kind of friends invites you to your favorite arcade just to ditch you for some upperclassman they just met there?

whatever there’s nothing i can do anyways, im suck in an arcade with no ride. i don’t think even playing games with make me feel better.

still, you went to play a few games of basketball but couldn’t help get distracted by a black haired boy poorly playing your favorite shooting game, you decid not to do anything since its none of your business and you were already having a shitty evening.

later you play a claw machine but end up continuously losing but seeing the boy continuously lose as well made you smile and you couldn’t help but say something. i mean, you know you said you wouldn’t but he really was butchering the game, its just simply helping. right? its not like your doing this because he’s also somewhat attractive or something?- shaking off your thoughts you get up from the from the claw machine and make way to him.

“your aim is pretty bad” you say teasing the boy thats trying his hardest but failing to concentrate on his game “i can help you? not to brag but im pretty good at this game.”

he looks back at you for a moment, nodding while trying to focus on both the game and you at the same time. “yeah go ahead” he says putting his arm out in attempt to pass you the toy gun from his hand.

you shake your head “theres no need for that just put your gun up”

he looks back at you confused for a moment but does as he’s told. putting his gun up and aligning it to his targets once again.

you stand next to him holding his gun along with him, carefully aligning it so its better.

you and the the boy were so close you were sure he could hear your breathing. you were also hoping he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating in this moment. disregarding all this you continue being close, not backing away simply looking at him for a moment, admiring his features. that was until the buzzing sound of *you lose* from the game started going off. distracted the both of you were had forgotten about the zombies you had to kill.

backing away, clearing his throat awkwardly from the whole situation that just occurred. niki began speaking, “uhm y-yeah it looks great uhm- but can you help me a bit more? i don’t think i have the hang of it just yet. theres still another round?”

you chuckle to what he was implying “yeah sure” going back to your original placement but this time holding the boys hand to hold the gun simultaneously is making your stomach flip. the game countdown starts 3,2,1 still you manage to perfectly place the gun, go! shooting its targets gracefully.

you back away this time to look at the boy face to face introducing yourself, “im y/n by the way” offering a hand out for a handshake.

niki chuckles a bit at your formality, shaking your hand back “im niki, you’re really good. you should give me lessons sometime.”

you think about it for a moment but theres no way he’s getting a date from you this easily so you being you, decide to milk it. “i dont know… ill make you an offer though?”

niki reacts with a downturn smile, “mm, that being?”

“you have to get me that minion plush” you say pointing to the claw machine behind him that you were previously struggling with.

niki smirks raising an eyebrow “of course, i can do that easy. just watch.”

- smau under cut!

[putellasawfc]

gingerbread competition!

leah williamson x reader

-

christmas music sounded from the bluetooth speaker that had been set up across the room, the familiar jingle of all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey filling the apartment you shared with your girlfriend of four years with a contagious level of christmas joy. the days had finally began to get chillier, the nights getting darker earlier and that’s all it took for you to get into the christmas spirit, which is why you had a variety of seasonal based activities ready for leah and yourself to partake in during the three day weekend you both had.

originally, you had really planned for tonight to be the night that you unpacked all the christmas decorations that you had stored in the loft and begin decorating your house. but after a long day of filming for different youtube videos and tiktok’s with the other arsenal girls, neither of you could be bothered with lugging down the boxes and bin bags that were filled to the brim with tinsel, baubles, stockings and lights. so instead, you went with the second best option. decorating a gingerbread house instead!

leah had been very scrooge about it at first, whining and wittering on about how there’s no point because it never stays up, even calling the whole thing a scam at one point but you had just tutted, claiming she just didn’t know how to build them properly.

“i do know how to build them! they’re just all flimsy, stay up for about five seconds and that’s it!” she defended herself, her brows furrowed in frustration as you stifled a laugh at how much offence she had taken to your previous statement.

“alright, alright. i believe you.” you teased, continuing to empty the gingerbread house kits you had picked up the day before. “i bet i can make mine look better than yours though.”

you knew the leah williamson could never back down from a challenge, her competitive streak was too high.

she scoffed, leaning forward with her elbows on the wooden table. “yeah right. sorry baby, but you have no chance.”

“well i actually have full confidence in my gingerbread house decorating abilities, so.” you said, dragging out the ‘o’ as you spread the different icings and sprinkles amongst the table, between the two of you. “why don’t we put a bet on it?”

“what kind of bet?” she eyed you, and you thought about it for a moment.

“whoever wins gets to choose an ugly christmas sweater that the loser has to wear to the next event we go to?” you suggested, that being the first thing that came to mind.

the blonde thought about it for a second, her gaze falling to the items on the table before she pursed her lips and slowly nodded, her blue eyes finding you again as she held out a hand in your direction.

“you have a deal.”

you grinned, wrapping your hand around her own and giving her a firm handshake. “may the best woman win.”

now, here you were almost twenty minutes later trying your best to apply the white icing onto the roof of your house that had miraculously managed to stay up for longer than fourty-five seconds, after you had generously coated the sides in too much icing. you would never admit it out loud, but leah was definitely right about the whole thing being flimsy. you had almost given up at one point in frustration after the house caved in on itself a sixth time.

“maybe we should’ve decorated cupcakes instead.” you mumbled, licking off some of the icing that had smudged on your thumb.

“i hate to say i told you so .. but.” the lioness captain huffed, “i definitely told you so.”

“when have you ever not enjoyed saying that?” you shot back, taking a quick glance towards her own house that had yet to be built, the woman deciding it would be better to decorate the pieces first and then stick them together after.

“i have my moments.”

you shook your head in amusement, finally satisfied with the amount of white, red and green icing that coated the house to mimic snow and tinsel. you moved to pick up a small bag of sprinkles that had already been opened by leah earlier, looking into the bag with furrowed brows.

“could’ve saved some for me babe.” you frowned, not even a quarter of the bag was full anymore.

“oops, my bad.” her tone was anything but apologetic, an amused smirk sat on her face and you elbowed her gently.

“you sabotaged me? that’s a yellow card!”

“i didn’t sabotage you! i just had to make my house look good, you wouldn’t understand.” she sent a playful look of concern to your creation and you gasped in mock offence.

“you’re so mean! my little house looks great.” you pouted, “would’ve looked even better if someone hadn’t used all sprinkles but … it’s okay i can still win without them.”

she scoffed at that, before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, aside from the speaker that was still blasting out more christmas tunes as the night went on. you made do with the sprinkles you had left, carefully sticking them to the icing around your house, focusing on the outside of your roof to make it look like colourful christmas lights had been put up. you moved onto picking up different sweets, dotting them around the house wherever you thought looks best, just adding the finishing touches when a groan to the left of you caught your attention.

you raised a brow and looked over, not being able to help the smile that rose when you saw how much leah was struggling with putting the pieces together. she’d managed to get two to stick together, but then the other side would fall down, and then when she’d attempted to stick that side back together, another side would fall down, tangling her in a never ending cycle that was clearly annoying her with the way her brows touched and her jaw tensed.

“looks like your little sabotage was for nothing.” you chirped, revelling in the way it only made her more frustrated.

“shut up.”

you laughed, finally finishing the house before pushing it away slowly, relieved the whole ordeal was finally over. “ahhh, now i get to sit back and watch you struggle.”

“i’m breaking up with you.” she muttered under her breath, intense gaze not moving from her house.

“you’re not allowed.” you swiftly replied, leaning in closer to get a better look at the mess she was making. “maybe if you ask nicely, i could give you a hand.”

she didn’t reply at first, still attempting to finish the task herself, but when almost three minutes went by and she wasn’t getting any closer to completing it, she stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum and turned to you in annoyance.

“fine. help me.”

“uh, what was that?” you questioned, cupping your ear with your hand.

she rolled her eyes, throwing her head back in exasperation at your immaturity.

“please will you help me build my house?” she asked again, “before i throw it at a wall.”

you grinned, throwing an arm over your girlfriends shoulder and pulling her into your side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before nodding. “i’d love to.”

it took a little bit of work, the pair of you bickering back and forth when leah had accused you of putting too much pressure on it and you accusing her of letting go too soon, but eventually, the both of you pulled your hands away cautiously, giving it a few seconds just to make sure before you gave eachother a double high five, pleased that it had finally stayed put.

pushing it back slowly as you had done to yours previously, you both sat back and admired your efforts on both houses.

“think it’s gonna be a pretty close one love.” leah said, pulling up her phone ready to snap a picture for her instagram story, where you had planned to put up a poll to see who’d win.

“hmm, maybe.” you hummed in agreement, “but i think my gumdrops on the roof might just help me win.”

she rolled her eyes once again, but this time with less irritation now that the hard part was done with. “yeah, yeah. if you say so.”

the defender took a quick snap, moving her phone to show you her screen when not even second later did leah’s house fall apart, one of the pieces even landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“you’re having a laugh.”

[alyswritings]

High School Fight

JJ Maybank x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N gets into a fight at school.

Warnings: mentions of fighting, mentions of groping

a/n: got this from a comment on this post. so it's kind of a part 2, but not really. loved the idea, thank you to the commenter! hope y'all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

JJ is working on his car, just doing a routine check up. John B is over with his 5 year old son, the boy playing in the yard with whatever he can find while the two adults talk.

JJ's sentence is cut off as his phone rings. He quickly wipes the grease off his hands on a bandana and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He frowns at the number, answering it.

"Hello?" He asks.

"Mr. Maybank?" A woman asks.

"Yeah." He says.

"Hi. This is Alexandra Harrington. I'm the secretary at Y/N's school." She explains, though JJ already knows. "We need you to come down to the school and pick up Y/N."

"Why? Is she okay?" JJ immediately grows concerned.

"That would depend on the definition of okay." Alexandra remarks, only worrying JJ more. "She got into a fight and is facing suspension."

"What?" JJ scoffs.

"Please, just come down to the school." Alexandra tells.

"I-- yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there." JJ says before hanging up.

"Everything good?" John B asks.

"I don't know. Y/N got in a fight at school." JJ informs.

"Ooh. Mini Maybank strikes again." John B grins.

"Shut up." JJ rolls his eyes. "I'll see you guys later."

"Later." John B bids, the two doing the pogue handshake. "Come on, buddy!" He calls out to his son.

---

JJ walks into the school, having quickly changed into clean clothes so he wasn't covered in grease. He finds Y/N sitting outside the office, slouched in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

There's a boy and girl on the bench next to her, both quietly talking to each other. He notices the bruises and scratch marks on their faces.

"Hey." JJ calls making Y/N sigh. She doesn't respond, which slightly annoys JJ. "Y/N." He sternly calls, putting his hand on top of her head and forcing her head back. He freezes at her black eye, split lip, and the cut on her cheek. "What the fuck?" His tone immediately changes to anger as he cups her chin, moving her head to inspect the injuries better.

"Dad, I'm fi--"

"What the fuck happened?" He questions.

"The principal will explain it." Y/N rolls her eyes. "Stupid bitch." She grumbles under her breath.

"I want your side." JJ says before he goes into the office.

"Mr. Maybank. Wish I was seeing you under better circumstances." The principal says.

"Right. What the hell happened?" JJ questions.

"Your daughter's a little psycho." The mother of the girl sneers.

"Excuse you?" JJ glares at her. "You better watch it, lady, or you're gonna match your kid out there." He threatens. The woman's jaw drops in offense, giving the principal a look.

"Mr. Maybank, relax. Physical violence is not the answer." The principal quickly intervenes.

"Your kid is the one going around and beating up innocents." The father of the boy says.

"No. No, I know my daughter, she's always got a reason. So your kids are the fucking problem." JJ argues.

The other two quickly retaliate, throwing insults about Y/N, the three adults getting into an argument.

"Enough!" The principal shouts, effectively shutting the three up. "Now... we have two stories. Y/N's story and then Jason and Ashley's story."

"Y/N's a little liar." Ashley's mother states.

"You really don't wanna piss me off, lady." JJ seethes, his hand clenching into a fist.

"We don't have any evidence of which story is true, only our beliefs." The principal says. "Jason and Ashley's story is they were trying to talk to Y/N, make plans, and she just lost it and starting hitting them."

JJ scoffs, his eyes rolling into the back of his head out of disbelief.

"And these idiots believe that shit?" JJ asks, pointing to the two parents.

"Excuse you?" The woman glares.

"You wanna say that to my face, pal?" The man sneers.

"Didn't I just do it?" JJ retorts.

The three teens listen from the outside, Y/N's lips quirking up at her father's remarks.

"Calm down." The principal orders. "Now, Y/N's story is Jason was hitting on her and wouldn't leave her alone even after she told him no. She says she didn't throw the first punch until he grabbed her bottom."

"He what?" JJ fumes, using all of his strength to not go beat up the little boy himself.

"She says Ashley was there with him and taunting her, calling her a bitch and insulting her home life along with constantly tripping her and tugging on her hair." The principal explains.

"I'm gonna--" JJ seethes, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth could break.

"You won't be doing anything, Mr. Maybank. Unless you'd like to go to jail." The principal warns. JJ takes a deep breath, burying his anger.

"So what? She gets in trouble for defending herself?" JJ asks. "That's fucking stupid."

"Defending herself from what?" Jason's dad scoffs. "Jason didn't do anything wrong."

"He disrespected her boundaries. He touched her ass, that's pretty fucking wrong, you dumb fuck!" JJ's voice raises near the end.

"He was being persistent. She was playing hard to get." The guy argues.

"She didn't want him in any way, whatsoever! No means no." JJ states.

"Ashley did no wrong." Her mom insists.

"Aside from being a fucking brat." JJ scoffs making the woman give him an appalled look. "She should also be old enough to know that she should keep her hands to herself. Plus, that golden rule parents are always so insistent about. Nothing nice to say, shut the fuck up. She should learn that rule."

"You do not talk about my daughter that way." The woman sneers.

"She hurt my daughter. I'm not gonna stand for that." JJ says. "Or for your son being a little prick."

"He was just trying to get her attention." The man protests. "Little ass grab never hurt anybody, especially if the girl's a hottie."

Ashley's mother screams when JJ's fist connects with Jason's dad's cheek. The three teens jump at the noise, turning back to see the chaos.

"Mr. Maybank!" The principal yells, rushing over. "Enough! That is enough!" She gets between the two men before they can start a brawl.

"All three children are suspended for two weeks for violating the rules. And unless you want them expelled, I suggest you three take them home and try your best to avoid each other for the rest of your lives. Or at least until these kids graduate."

"If they all graduate." Ashley's mother rolls her eyes.

JJ starts to charge for her, but the principal holds him back.

"I especially advise you to leave, Maybank. For you and your daughter's own good." The principal says.

"No. No, I'm leaving for their own good." JJ points to the other two parents. "Cause if I don't, they're going six feet under a little younger than they anticipate."

The principal sighs as the other two parents start to complain about the threat.

JJ leaves the office, rolling his eyes out of frustration and anger.

"C'mon." He motions for his daughter to get up. He grabs her backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. Y/N gets up, JJ placing his hand on her back to lead her out.

"You're a little bitch, Jason." JJ calls back before the two exit the school.

They get outside and JJ manages to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You okay?" Y/N asks, looking up at her dad, not sure if she should be amused or concerned or both.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." JJ runs his hand over his head, messing his hair up. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't jeopardize your school like that."

"Not jeopardizing it anymore than I am." Y/N chuckles. "Plus, school system sucks anyway. Don't give too many shits."

"Are you okay?" JJ asks, his concerned father side overtaking him as he observes the injuries on her face. He brushes her hair back to get a better look at them, thumb lightly grazing over the black eye.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. They look worse." Y/N grins.

"Yes, they do." JJ proudly laughs.

"So, am I grounded?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, you're never grounded for standing up for yourself." JJ reassures. "Ice cream?"

"Rocky road." Y/N immediately lights up making JJ softly smile at her.

"Rocky road it is, princess." JJ promises, kissing her on the head.

He opens the passenger door for her and she climbs in, JJ shutting it after she's in. He throws her backpack into the bed of the truck, going over to the other side and getting in, starting the engine.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313

[shalomniscient]

kujou sara brainrotting and i saw the post about wanting kujou sara to have good parents just so she can learn how it feels to be loved. what if kjsr finds herself getting a family through r? r's mom fussing over her and she's so whiplashed cause usually when someone's mad at her (cough tayakyuki) it's for not being the perfect weapon, not for not eating enough. if r had younger siblings, they'd use her as a ladder to climb things. i see her easily get close to kids not because she'd be good with them cause she has wings, like what isn't cool to a 5 year old than a general with wings?

imagine the first ever meeting with r's parents and family, and she's so stressed out and worried. but they are so soft and she finds the family she never got to have. ☹️☹️ she's such an acts of service girlie so she'd prob try washing the dishes and get shouted at by r's mom.. ughh ok sorry for rant, the idea of her meeting her in laws has been a parasite in my head.

SOBBING i love this so much....... sara finding a real family what if i cried 😭😭😭 PLEASE she'd be so confused when your mom fusses over her criminally small portion like. this older woman clicking her tongue and frowning as she scoops more food to dump on sara's plate while saying "all skin and bones, you. here, eat more, darling," HSLJSDD and sara kind of sitting there so dumbfounded not knowing if she should apologise or thank your mom. if the food somehow tastes better, she doesn't say anything, but the tiniest smile tugs at her lips. AND KJSR LADDER SLDJHSDLJHSDL ik she's tall as fuck i feel it in my bones........... poor thing she'd be so awkward and a little stiff but your siblings treating her like a cool aunt would give her the little push she needs to be more comfortable. she makes sure to be very careful w your younger siblings ofc, always supporting them properly as they demand to be carried or clamber all over her. AND HER WINGS they'd be so so enamored by them like she wouldn't have to keep them hidden in your household EVER !!! and so many new people willing to help preen her wings ouhdflsjdfhls sobbing crying throwing up......... crows are social animals !!! social !!! sara would probably cry a little later in your room when it's just the two of you, sinking into your arms and just melting at the unfamiliar feeling of being so-- so loved.

first time meeting the in laws would be soooooo stressful for her like she's fixing her clothes every few seconds and fiddling with the box of persimmons she bought as a meeting gift. she can't help the smile that forms on her lips when you open the door, but it turns a little strained when she sees your mother behind you. she's ready to sink into a bow but your mother coaxes her into the house by her shoulder, already fussing about how it's cold outside, come in, come in, and once she's inside your mother's eyes gleam before she chuckles a little fondly, saying oh my, you're quite easy on the eyes. my child knows to go for the handsome ones, i suppose. and sara flushes bright red, while you groan and tell her to stop tormenting sara when she just got here. then she meets your dad, who takes her hand in a firm, but not unkind handshake. when she returns it something like pride takes over his features and sara almost flinches away, utterly unused to this kind of response. you keep her grounded with a hand on her back, though, and guide her to the dinner table. over dinner your parents and siblings bombard her with all sorts of questions, which she does her best to answer honestly. and sara deciding to help out and do the dishes........ god that's so her. you'd have to do some college level debating to get her to walk away from the sink; thankfully, your siblings are there to distract her. your parents probably insist she stays the night, since it's already late and they're sure you won't mind sara crashing in your room (you don't). sara isn't used to staying up late, so she heads off to bed early. but for the first time in her life she falls asleep not to the sound of a cold, silent, house but a warm, loving home. she sleeps better than she has in years.

[megamindsecretlair]

Camp Wanderlust, Part 1

Pairing: Camp Counselor!Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, one use of n-word, kissing, mentions of female and male anatomy. FLUFF.

Summary: Welcome to Camp Wanderlust! We're so glad you're here! Inner city kids have been granted the opportunity to spend their summer here, getting introduced to a new world. You and Franklin are camp counselors who can't seem to stop ogling each other.

Word Count: 6,966k

Part 2

A/N: I have no clue where this idea came from but I couldn't stop thinking about college Franklin and how adorable he is! I miss him! So enjoy this new mini-series. I'm also zooted so all mistakes are on me. Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @nerdieforpedro @bratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii

The cool cotton shirt was already starting to stick to your skin. You fanned yourself, wondering if you had enough time to make it back to the cabin before the bus got here. You couldn’t find your scrunchie and your braids were starting to itch as sweat threaded around the parts. 

Girls stood to your left, guys stood to your right, all nervous and full of energy. Orientation started three days ago as everyone met each other, went over rules and regulations, and then had real fun later that night as flasks and mini bottles of booze were passed around. 

The owners of the camp were a silly white couple who just loved to help inner city kids. They stood off to the side from the group of counselors looking like concerned citizens complaining about a large group of Black folk for no reason. They were nice and all, but funny how their compassion only extended to the kids. Every counselor here came from colleges all around Southern California. Not one street kid.

You had never been to camp though and you had to admit, this was a nice way to show inner city kids that there was more to life than weed and going to jail. You switched your weight to your other hip, looking behind you for the hundredth time.

“You lookin’ for your boyfriend?” Dana, your bunk mate, nudged you with her elbow. She was a really pretty, dark-skinned woman with good hair. Her afro was fluffed out and shining in the morning sun. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. 

“Franklin,” she said, drawing his name out in a song. 

You giggled and shook your head, nervously looking around to make sure no one heard her. Despite what she kept insisting, you were not going to throw yourself at Franklin Saint. Your eyes sought him out but if you looked any longer, it would be too obvious. You snatched your eyes away from your right side and looked at Dana.

“No,” you said. “Not happening.” 

Once everyone found out that nearly everyone was single, the energy shifted in the room. People started eyeing each other in a new light. Now hookups were dancing through people’s eyes, eyes drooping below the chaste limit, seeking out the most pleasurable mate for your time at camp. 

Where else were you going to find people who got you? Certainly not at your respective schools where it felt criminal to be seen consorting with your fellow Negro. If two gathered in a space, it was a warning. If three or more joined, suddenly you were a gang and there were board meetings and secret handshakes banning that sort of thing.

No, here, you were surrounded by woods and a lake. Here the predominant color was as brown as the earth and just as beautiful. Here, anything could happen. So people began pairing off and gossiping. Laying claim on the curve of a hip or soft shoulders to lay on, or perhaps the way a smile made your insides flutter. 

Looking over the men, there were certainly some fine specimens. Some tall and broad, skinny and lanky, rounded and thick as molasses. But there was only one for you. He was so dreamy. 

His dark skin soaked up the sun. Such a cute, kind of shy smile. But his eyes were low and mischievous. Like he had a secret in them about you. He had worn blue jeans and a striped green shirt, the collars popped open.  

When your eyes landed on him, you were ready to drool and fall all over yourself. You had never felt that way about anyone. No one in your neighborhood, no one in your schools, and definitely no one at your college. 

And it seemed like he saw all of this float through your brain as he locked his eyes on you and smiled, dipping his chin a bit. You gave him a small smile, in shaking fear that he could see the lust on you,  and you turned away from him. 

You were not the only one to notice him. Snippets of their conversation had floated to you about the cute boy on the left. No, the far left. Girl, the one who look like my next boyfriend! 

You were not going to compete for no man. But your eyes floated to the other men, some who looked your way with genuine interest in your curvy body, and they just weren’t doing it for you. They didn’t set your palms sweating or chest heaving or pussy throbbing. Well, there were maybe one or two you wouldn’t mind entertaining the next four weeks. Let someone else have that man.

Except he had made his way to you. He had introduced himself, voice low and full of dark promises. He had made you laugh and roll your eyes, twist your hair, and find ways to touch him. You had talked all night, completely ignoring everyone else who pointed and gossiped and wondered about you two. 

A bus horn honked twice and you flinched as your thoughts snapped back to reality. You did not need flashbacks of that night, finding out everything you could about each other. Bus after bus pulled into the turnabout to offload a flood of preteens. They brought a jittery nervous air to the balmy June day that were directly at odds. 

Your eyes scanned the kids as they clutched their little sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks too heavy for them. They weren’t quite that loud yet. The extroverts had already found each other, forming up groups and surpassing that line between the “popular kids” and the “weird” ones. You weren’t sure who was in your group yet, but you hoped they weren’t little shits. 

The owners of the camp, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman but you can call us Doug and Anne, erupted into excited giggles and clapped their hands. Some of the counselors began hiding smirks and smiles and giving each other the Look. 

“Welcome to Camp Wanderlust!” Anne yelled in the too quiet air. Nature hadn’t been encroached upon today and was taking its time waking up. The arrival of kids to run across the ground or play in its leaves were a new addition and nature needed a minute. 

Anne rushed forward and waved. “We are so excited that you’re here. How excited are you?” Anne continued. 

The popular kids cheered and threw their hands in the air while the shy ones stood there staring straight ahead like zombies. Maybe they just weren’t morning kids. Because you sure as shit wasn’t a morning person. 

Anne began to list off some welcome bullshit about learning and having fun and going swimming, supervised of course. About making lifelong friends because you could keep in touch with letters. Building bonds and telling some good stories while you’re at it.

She talked about how the cabins were divided. For their safety, girls and boys are in completely separate cabins and lights out at 10pm sharp. No one was allowed outside at night without a chaperone. They were free to go to the bathroom but it was straight back to bed. 

She told them the names of each cabin and the cabin badges were important to remember. Doug came forward with a clipboard and started to rabble off badges, cabin numbers, and their assigned counselors.

In unison, you all waved to the kids with bright smiles and held up mini signs you made yourself yesterday. It stated your name. Three guesses on who your partner was. Doug then rattled off names and numbers. Kids began to separate and walk toward you. 

A line of girls formed in front of you, bright eyed and cute in their little pigtails and afros and braids. Some looked so painfully shy, you vowed to make sure they felt included and had fun. You thrived in college but you were a shy girl just like them. It cropped up from time to time, but you felt more yourself now than you ever did as a kid. 

Doug finished and everyone had their group. The counselors began fanning out to gain some distance and introduce themselves without yelling over a nearby group. You stayed put, not wanting to walk unnecessarily in this heat. 

You had been lined up in numerical order, so Franklin was on the opposite end from you. He faced you and you swore you saw him smile at you before turning to his group of Cabin 5 boys. You turned to your own Cabin 5 girls and gave them your name, making them say theirs and their favorite color. 

You talked some more, trying to find areas of interest where they might all intersect. You doubted you could get total consensus, but it never truly hurt to be optimistic. You took your group of ten to the Raven badge house and let them decide how to pick beds. You weren’t going to help with that. You watched as they worked to decide which bed would be theirs. The assertive ones announced which ones they wanted and if no one objected, then that was fine. The shyer girls took their time trying to be polite and give up whichever one they wanted. The whole process was over pretty quickly and you were back outside, giving them a tour and dodging other groups. 

Your eyes immediately found Franklin coming out of the cabin next door. He moved between shadow and sun as he left the cover of the cabin. He lit up, that sun hitting him all over his gorgeous body. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt with Camp Wanderlust written across the back. You wore a similar shirt and let yourself picture being snuggled up with him. 

You shook your head and faced your group, leading them out and around Camp. You showed them the shower and bathrooms, mess hall, activity tunnel which was the bridge to the rest of the camp. You showed them the Traveler bridge which took them to the lake and boat house, and finally to Curiosity Hill which led to the woods. The hill was a long slope that led to the woods proper full of bugs and small animals. 

You looked at your watch, making good time. You faced your group and started answering questions so they could get to know you. They called you pretty and asked which school you went to, your favorite color, and the like. 

“I bet ya’ll hungry, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah!” They all said, loudly. You giggled and waved for them to follow you to the mess hall. Groups were following behind you, following the unspoken signal for lunch.  You made them line up, grab a tray, and move down the line.

You told them where to sit and told them to get to know one another. You grabbed your tray and went to sit at the counselor’s table.

Dana was already there digging into her tray all neat and polite. She smiled when you sat down and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were out of the hot ass sun, finally had some water, and could eat. Why did you agree to this again? 

“You know your boyfriend been checking you out all morning,” she said. 

“Shut up with that,” you said and began eating. 

“He has! Sharonda said he told Jason that you were fine as hell,” she said. 

“And how did Sharonda hear that?” You asked.

“Supposedly, Keisha and Jason are a thing which is a little funny because Jamika said the same thing. But Keisha and Sharonda are bunk mates,” she said. 

You shook your head. “Oh, you stay ear-hustling,” you said. 

“I like information. I don’t care how I get it,” she said.

“Okay, so then who you got around here?” You asked. 

“I’m still looking. They ain’t that fine compared to Mr. Saint,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll talkin’ about her boyfriend?” Jamika asked, coming up behind you. She dropped her tray onto the table and then scooted onto the bench.  “I swear them girls already getting on my nerves. They gave me the bad little mu’fuckas,” she complained. 

“Where are ya’ll getting this boyfriend from and why are ya’ll all in my business?” You asked.

“So there’s business to be had,” Jamika said and looked at Dana. “Told ya.”

Jamika sucked her teeth and sighed dramatically. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to Jamika. 

“Ya’ll betting?” You demanded. 

“I told her there was something between ya’ll. Ya’ll must’ve met before today or something because ya’ll literally can’t keep your eyes off of each other.” 

“I said that ya’ll ain’t even had an opportunity to do anything or spend time together,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll are so foul!” You could only shake your head at the two girls who instantly clicked with you. Both were similar to each other, favoring each other’s tone and speaking in nearly the same mannerisms. They had never met and yet bonded like sisters. Somehow you got scooped up between them and you were so grateful. 

“When he lookin’ that hard? There’s always something there,” Jamika said.

“What ya’ll betting on anyway?” You asked.

“We can’t tell you that. We can’t interfere,” Jamika said.

“Is everyone in on it?” You asked.

“Everybody but you,” Dana said, cackling loud and hi-fiving Jamika. 

You shook your head, looking over to your cabin kids. They were actually talking which was a good sign but a few were still too quiet. Jamika sighed loudly as she did the same. There were two girls fussing at each other.

“Ain’t you gonna help?” Dana asked.

“Uh-uh, I wanna see who wins,” Jamika said, a little smirk on her lips. 

On the opposite side of you, you felt a tug on your braid. You turned, ready to be mad when you saw Franklin’s wide grin and his pretty eyes. The heat died down in your chest as you sighed. 

“Boy, you was finna get hurt,” you said.

“I ain’t scared of you,” he said. He scooted onto the bench with you, making you scoot over since you were on the end. Dana and Jamika threw knowing glances at each other. 

“What are you doing, Franklin?” You asked.

“Came to see you. Ain’t had a chance all day,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, dabbing your lips with your napkin. Franklin straddled the bench, smiling at you. Just staring and smiling like he could do that all day long. It unnerved you when you looked at each other like this. But you watched him right back.

“Why are you really here?” You asked.

“We’re sitting next to each other at the bonfire right?” He asked.

“You pulled my hair just to ask me that?” You meant to sound playful and teasing, but your voice was quieter than that. Filled with some other emotion like expecting a different answer. As if hair-pulling was acceptable in a different context.

He seemed to see your thoughts and he smiled.  “Just say I get to sit next to you,” he said. He leaned over and took one of your chips. You popped his hand and he yelped, rubbing his hand.

“I don’t play about my food,” you said. He laughed and shook his head, diving in for another one. You tried to pop his hand again but he kept moving it just before contact. 

He gave you another panty-melting smile. “You are so pretty, did you know?” Franklin asked.

You rolled your eyes. He got on your nerves already and you had only known him four days. “I can’t control where you sit, but I wouldn’t mind it next to me,” you said.

Franklin knocked on the bench with a wide grin. He turned to Dana and Jamika. “Ladies,” he said.

He stood up and walked back to his table where the guys whooped and hollered from where they were sitting. You had a flashback to middle school, the same age as these kids, and you felt sick. You hated when so much attention was on you and now all of the counselors were gossiping about your so-called relationship with Franklin. 

“Fuck, where do I get one of him?” Jamika asked. 

“Right, like where his brother at?” Dana echoed. You all watched Franklin’s retreat and him talking to his buddies. 

The rest of lunch was uneventful as you spoke about your groups and how you hoped the first activity went well. You cleaned up after yourselves and began to lead your groups out of the mess hall and across the land towards the activity side. There was an obstacle course set up with things to make these kids stretch their legs and build some friendships.

You walked alongside Franklin and he nudged you with his elbow. You nudged him back. You had family, you were no pushover. You lightly pushed each other all the way down to the course. You were not setting a good example for the kids.

At the course, Anne and Doug greeted everyone and told everyone about the course. She announced prizes at the end of each activity and at the month to the team with the highest scores. Anne and Doug would score the kids with input from their counselors. So it was all about playing fair and working with each other to win. 

One of the counselors, Jason, showed how hard it was to get through the course alone. He was playacting for the kids. Jason was as tall as a tree with rich ebony skin and thick muscles. Basketball guy definitely. He was built for speed and agility but he struggled. 

He returned to his group and Doug and Anne stated that they went in cabin order. Being last in line, you told the girls that they’d have a chance to search for weaknesses. They loved that idea and got a lot more interested in the rules. First, the cabin mates would introduce themselves to each other.

The girls turned completely shy, backing away from the boys. The boys returned in kind, eyeing each other with slightly nauseous faces. 

“Come on guys, what do you say?” Franklin encouraged. 

Reluctantly, a boy stepped forward and held out his hand. One of your girls did the same and they introduced themselves. You looked at Franklin. “Did you teach them that?” You asked.

“They were nervous about being here. I gave them some tips,” he said. He slanted his eyes towards you with a smirk. 

You watched as the kids opened up and started talking. Anne and Doug got the course going with kids going through it and working off the food they ate. When everyone was done, prizes were handed out. That earned them a few hours to relax in the rec room. The counselors were free to rotate shifts and watch the kids. 

It wasn’t your shift yet so you went to hang out with Dana and Jamika back in the cabins. The heat was killing you and you needed to cool off somewhere. You immediately searched for a scrunchie to get the fresh braids off of your neck.

“So we just not gon’ talk about Franklin asking our girl out?” Jamika asked. 

You laughed with your friends up to the cabin while you dodged their questions about you and Franklin. Nerves bubbled in your gut thinking about the boy with the cute smile. You couldn’t describe this feeling between you but you knew that you wanted to explore it. If only you could do it in peace.

You stared up at the stars as you sat on your log. Anne and Doug were really going all out for the experience. These kids were in for a better treat than you ever got. You didn’t have fancy white people paying for your camp stay so they could pat themselves on the back. Selective performism wasn’t around when you were growing up. 

The stars twinkled overhead, spattering the sky with little dots of light. There were more stars than you had ever seen in your life. Too much pollution where you lived and went to school. 

You sat around the campfire with half of the larger group. Anne was with your group, asking the kids about what they thought of the camp so far. Some were excited and they went around in a circle saying what they liked about it. 

You were among the first to get there. By the time Cabin 5 boys made it down, Cabin 2’s counselor was already sitting next to you. 

“No!” Franklin said when he approached. “Aye, switch places with me,” he asked.

The girl, Michella, rolled her eyes and stood up with a smirk. She hi-fived her counterpart. He smirked at the two of you. Ugh. This was so fucking childish. 

Anne missed all of it as she focused on getting her free feedback. Franklin was overwhelming. He wasn’t a big man, but he felt big. He felt larger than anyone else there. He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and listened to every kid speaking.

Every now and then, your knee would brush his. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but it only made you ache and shiver. When he stretched, you couldn’t help ogling him. Those skinny but powerful arms. The groans he made when he went a little too far. 

You licked your lips and hung your head. It wasn’t normal to be this attracted to someone, right? You wanted to snuggle into him and never leave. He could be annoying, but there were times where he seemed to be undressing you with his eyes. 

While Anne was distracted, Franklin turned his eyes to you. “Meet me later?” He asked. 

“Where? Lights out at 11 or didn’t you hear?” You asked.

“Break the rules with me, c’mon. They know we gon’ break ‘em,” he said.

You shook your head, fighting down little deranged bubbles of laughter. He wasn’t being intentionally funny, but you weren’t used to such persistence. You had your fair share of men interested in you. But it was hard trying to find worthy Black men among the sea of white people. 

“I wanna see you, alone,” he said. 

You tuned back into Anne who was giving some background on the camp and why it was named Camp Wanderlust. 

“You know everyone is talkin’ about us and taking bets,” you said.

“So? I’m trynna bet on us too,” he said. 

You shook your head. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You weren’t a goody-two-shoes but you were just as excited as the kids at being here at camp. Your mother never wanted you to go, hiding behind excuses like she thought you would be boy crazy after. Which was ridiculous. You were already married to Marcus Murray. You just knew he was going to be your husband forever. Until he moved away in second grade and you never heard from him again. You didn’t want anything to jeopardize you being here. Not even for the likes of Franklin Saint.

He smiled at you and turned to Anne.

“Of course, that’s nothing compared to…” Anne looked around her dramatically. “No, I can’t say his name. Anyone who says it gets taken in the night!” 

You shared the Look with Michella and shook your head. You didn’t know who Anne thought she was fooling with this routine, but you supposed that it wouldn’t be a proper bonfire without scary stories. 

You stood up with Franklin and went over to the cooler. You opened it, grabbing bags of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Franklin helped you, somehow managing to reach across you for everything. His arm grazed your tummy and you sighed. You tilted your head at him.

“Will you stop?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, innocent as a button. You were not fooled. He smiled at you, tilting his head back in response.

“You keep…you know,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said and stepped closer to you. 

“Oh, you get on my nerves,” you said. You smiled at him.

“Meet me at Traveler,” he said.

You shook your head as you brought back the supplies towards the group. You began passing the bags around, picking up sticks that you had collected earlier. Anne continued her tale of the leader of the lost kids. 

You were pretty sure she was talking about an evil Peter Pan but the kids didn’t seem to mind. Some were really engrossed in the story, looking over their shoulders towards the pitch black night. 

She spun the tale of kids who got lost wandering in the dark by themselves. Snatching up anyone who calls them by name. She wasn’t going to say it for their safety. They absolutely must not go looking for his name on the plank where people had been signing their names for years. One signature is not like the rest and they must never seek it out. 

The kids promised but you already saw some sneaky faces. Faces that screamed trouble. You fought a smile. 

You took turns, trying to keep up the legend of this mysterious leader. No one knew who it was, it could be anyone out there. They could be right over someone’s shoulder and you wouldn’t know. 

A few girls squealed. The boys were trying to seem cool, but you saw their eyes darting around as well. You munched on smores as tales were told and laughs were shared. The entire time, you were in sync with Franklin. If he moved, you moved. If he shifted, you did so as well. It was maddening. 

The kids were dismissed to their cabins to unwind for an hour before bed. You walked your cabin back, Franklin walking beside you. He asked you about what you were studying. You told him your favorite subject and your face practically lit up talking about it. 

You asked him what he was into. He said business. “Business! Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I got a mind for numbers. I can do something with that,” he said.

You really needed to get control of your dirty mind. When he said that, your mind instantly went to his lips. The moon poked through the trees and you were able to see him glow faintly silver. You licked your own, wondering what his lips would taste like. What his hands would feel like on you. 

You dragged your gaze ahead of you. The overhead camp lights shone a giant spotlight on you and your group. You walked to each respective bunk and bid farewell to the kids. You crossed paths with Franklin once more as you walked to the counselor cabin. 

Franklin’s hand brushed against yours. Your fingers tingled. As if it could already feel his hands tangling with yours. “Tonight?” Franklin asked. 

“I’ll think about it!” You said and shook your head.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. You went to your cabin, flopping onto your bed with a soft sigh. You brought the pillow to your face and squealed, questioning the butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t a teenager but, fuck, you felt like you were back in high school. Possibly earlier. Back to middle school where you couldn’t stop thinking about Chris Johnson and how sweet he was. 

“Ugh, ya’ll need to go on and make it official. I need to win some real money around here,” Dana said. She emerged from the closet on her side. 

These cabins were much smaller, big enough for two people and set up like a dorm room. You didn’t have that much money for school, it all went to books and classes. You weren’t able to stay on campus and you took the bus to and from the bastard. 

“Stop,” you groaned.

“I don’t know why you leavin’ that man hanging like that,” she said. She was already dressed in her pj’s: sweats and a tank top. Your pjs were similar but you still weren’t sure if you were going to meet Franklin later or not. 

It made you delirious to think about it. Sneaking off in the night. Wings took flight in your stomach. You flipped onto your back and placed your hands against your tummy. You had to see what he wanted, right? 

It wasn’t to talk. You knew that much. He could be a gentleman all he wanted, but you weren’t that oblivious. You saw the way he looked at you or the way he found little ways to bother you. It was so childish but it grew on you as you formed an instant connection. 

“I’m not trying to,” you told Dana. 

“Look, we only here for four weeks. May as well have some fun and have something to tell your future grandkids,” she said.

You laughed and leaned onto your elbow to face her. “Why would I tell my grandkids I had something with some random boy at camp?” 

“Because grandmas are always talkin’ out the side of they neck. I wanna be like my Grandma Sadie. She told us all kinds of things when my parents weren’t around,” she said.

“That’s why you’re so wholesome now,” you told her. 

You talked and joked while Dana spread the latest camp gossip. You weren’t the only subject of people’s comments. People were already finding themselves tangled up with each other. Try as you might, you couldn’t get Jamika to see what a fuck nigga Jason was. She lost her collective marbles with him. 

As it got later, your nerves got the best of you. You were hovering outside of the door, peeking out to see the distant house where Anne and Doug went to bed. There were still lights on in the house. Across from the house, there were similar bunks with the camp staff. Kitchen, groundskeeper, the like. Other volunteers who agreed to help watch the kids. 

Your foot tapped against the wooden floor, your Converse beating a steady rhythm. Dana had explicitly told you to go while she drifted off to sleep. You took a deep breath and left the cabin. Your curiosity was going to eat you alive.

You scurried across the open courtyard heading toward Traveler bridge. The bridge itself crossed a small creek on a curve. You stopped at the entrance, under the light. You waited there, the chilly night and insects chirping making the woods seem creepier. Like Jason was going to pop out at any moment and go on a murdering spree. You should have brought a jacket. You rubbed your bare arms, feet shifting back and forth as you looked around you for any sign of Franklin. He wouldn’t tell you to meet him and then just not show up right?

“Hey, it’s Franklin,” Franklin whispered, making enough noise to let you hear him approach. You turned to face him, smiling softly at him.

“I’m glad you came. Took forever for my bunk mate to fall asleep,” he said. 

He held out his hand and you took it, going over the bridge with him. There was a stretch of woods here, the trees loomed over you. Gnarled branches twisted and arched overhead, blocking out bits of the artificial light. 

You reached the edge of the woods, where the trees broke up and allowed for a wider entrance towards the lake and the water supplies and equipment. Franklin stopped you from heading towards the dock.

He paused while the moon hit you two perfectly. You saw his face and how nervous he seemed. Franklin? Nervous? 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“You’re pretty cute too,” you said with a smile. He moved his hands to your hips, fingers sliding down your sides to loop his fingers through your belt loops. He pushed you backwards until your back gently hit a tree wide enough to accommodate you. 

Franklin stared into your eyes. “I ain’t the only one feeling this, am I?” He asked. 

He threaded his hand through your left one, watching as the pale light played over your combined hands. You swore your hand was electric from touching him. Little zips of energy flowed between you. Your body was learning him. Learning how he moved and spoke, resonated with his energy to match. 

“No. Is it crazy?” You asked.

“Absolutely crazy. I like talkin’ to you,” he said. 

He leaned down but didn’t kiss you. His lips hovered just there, just out of reach. He was so tall and broad, your hands came around his shoulders. You couldn’t stop grasping him. Your body heated up from the inside out. Your mouth dried feeling him beneath your fingers. 

He let you explore his body. You were too shy to go further, to truly explore him. His hands stayed respectfully on your hips. 

“I want to know everything,” he said. 

You giggled. “We’d be here all night,” you said.

“Shit, I can lose some sleep,” he said.

You shook your head. “Are we going down to the dock or not?” You had did this yesterday too. Sneaking out while everyone was supposed to be sleep. You were sure that other couples were doing the same thing. Finding hidden spots that no one would stumble across at this time of night. 

“I just wanted to look at you,” he said. He smiled and you couldn’t help smiling back. He didn’t even have to say anything and he had your lips curling, your tongue sliding across your teeth, and your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. 

You were lost in the world of Franklin and you didn’t mind. You would gladly stay in his orbit if he kept looking at you like that. Like he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, listening to you speak. 

He finally moved away, allowing oxygen to flow to your brain once more. You shook off his subtle clean scent. He tugged you by the hand towards the dock. Your shoes clanged against the loose boards. It was a wonder the damn thing didn’t collapse by now.

Franklin let you sit down first. You took off your shoes and socks, dangling them over the dock. The water was a little out of reach. Only your toes graced the surface of the icy water. Franklin joined you, taking off his own shoes and socks. He sat back a little, his legs a bit longer than yours. 

He sat close, close enough for you to feel every rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders grazed against yours and you had to sit on your hands to keep from reaching out and touching him like you owned him. 

You spent an hour or so there, talking and learning about his aunt and uncle. His momma working for a piece of shit real estate agent. How he wanted to find a good paying job where his mom could retire and he could take care of her.

You didn’t bother asking about his dad. From the way he spoke about his mom, it was clear he wasn’t in the picture. You told him about your family, your schoolwork, and how hard it was to always be on stage while at school.

You bonded about how students and teachers alike didn’t know what to make of you. They didn’t know what kind of Negro you were. The loud type? The ignorant type? The quiet, good ones that they were comfortable reaching for your hair or asking intrusive questions? It felt good to bond with someone over these things.

Franklin was able to stay on campus but he hardly spent time in his rooms. He could be found in the library somewhere, doing his work like a true little nerd.

“You won’t hold it against me, will you?” He asked. 

He sounded so adorable when he asked you that you shook your head. You leaned back, resting on your hands, as you looked at the stars above you. They were breathtaking. The air was clearer. You wished you could afford this much land. That you could have a place to yourself where no one else was allowed. 

A private lake where you could do anything you wanted. You could swim naked for all you wanted and no one would be around to stop you. Perhaps not such a big land though. You wouldn’t know what to do if a psycho killer came crashing out of the woods. 

“Nah, you good,” you said. He matched your stance, looking skyward. He then turned his head. You turned to look at him as well, not realizing just how close you were. His eyes dipped towards your lips. 

You licked them absently and his eyes tracked the movement. You found yourself leaning forward, closing the distance towards those lips of his. They looked so big and juicy and were probably warm. 

He rested his head against yours, smiling against your lips. “Let me kiss you,” he said.

It wasn’t a question but you smiled and nodded. He crossed that final distance, that tiny gap keeping you apart, He sighed against your lips. His big, warm hand reached up to cup your neck. 

His fingers feathered across your pulse points. You felt your heartbeat there, beating wildly against his fingers. His lips were even more heavenly. His other hand cupped the other side of your neck. His long fingers slid through your braids.

You were lightheaded. Dizzy with pleasure as your lips tingled against his. Shivers ran down your spine. Your hands rested on his forearms, holding onto each other as you gave in to this thing between you. This all consuming thing that made you push forward, press against him, trying to get closer than what you already were. 

Your harsh breaths seemed to echo in the still night. The sounds of the woods were muted here, lending itself to a type of quiet that you never experienced. There was always a plane or helicopter overhead. Some type of siren or dog barking. 

It was hard as hell to go to sleep in a place so quiet. It was eerie. You kept expecting to hear a gunshot disguised as a firework. Here, there were just your loud and racing thoughts picturing this exact moment. 

Franklin’s tongue danced with yours. Sweeping across your lips and diving back into your mouth to taste more of you. His breath was faintly minty. Even after dinner and the smores. 

Your pussy throbbed. Beating in time with your wild heartbeat. You felt him everywhere. All over your skin. Every kiss had an answering call in your tummy. Every squeeze around your neck you felt down to your toes. 

You reluctantly drew away at the same time, panting and turning drunk eyes on each other. “I’ve been dreamin’ about that,” he said. His head rested against your once more. You huffed, breathing each other in. 

“Same here. I felt like that should've helped dull this,” you said.

After your taste, you wanted more. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to lay you down and unzip your shorts. Or makeout with you while his hands explored under your shirt. To rub your aching nipples that were straining beneath your bra for any type of stimulation. 

“Ain’t gon’ happen,” he said. He pecked your lips. But a quick peck turned into two and then three until you were moving into his lap. You straddled him and kissed under the stars. It was just you and him.

Him gripping your thighs and squeezing them for dear life. You running your hands around his back. Your lips crashing against each other over and over, like waves crashing against a shore. You felt weightless in his arms. He hadn’t looked all that sturdy under that skinny frame, but he handled you with ease.

He squeezed your ass and you groaned, couldn’t help yourself from grinding on his crotch. He was thick, warm, and solid under you. He was pressing against your core but there wasn’t enough friction. 

You found a natural break again, opening your eyes to look at him and smile. It still was nowhere near enough but it would have to be. You had already been out too late. You were going to be so tired in the morning.

“We should get back,” he whispered. 

You licked your swollen lips and nodded. Fuck, you wanted to keep going. Wanted to know how far he would push you. 

“Will you meet me tomorrow too?” He asked.

You bit your lip but nodded. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, too,” you said. The other counselors be damned. It wasn’t like they weren’t around, confessing their own feelings. Or already hooking up. Clothes flying in the heat of the moment. 

“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said.

His hands slowly slid from your hips to your sides to help you maneuver off of him. You stood and he stood up after, taking your hand and walking with you back to your cabin. His cabin was further down and you thanked him for the sweet gesture.

He tapped his cheek for a kiss. Your cheeks hurt from trying to hide another smile. He got on your damn nerves. You pecked his cheek, your lips lingering for a fraction too long. “Good night, Franklin,” you said. 

“Good night,” he said. Your name fell from his lips softly, sacredly. 

You gave a small wave and went inside, closing the door and resting your back against it. You were still so lightheaded. Drunk on his kisses and needing more. Dana was still fast asleep so you changed and slipped into bed as quiet as you could. 

You didn’t know how you were going to sleep tonight but you hoped that Franklin would dream of you too.

There's always more Franklin to explore: The Secret Franklin Saint Files | Part 2

[generic-sonic-fan]

Metamy? Please 🥺?

(I'm curious how you would write these two as a couple!)

I always struggle to write purely romance, so here- have a drabble where Sonic points out the irony of Amy's choice in partner, for better or for worse.

Weird Pick, Don't You Think?

Sonic shrugged from his seat on the couch, before getting up and stretching his legs. “I mean, Ames, I’m glad that you stopped chasing me and found someone who gets you, but it still is just a little weird that you went for my copy instead.”  

“He’s not a copy of you.” Amy replied. 

“Metal Sonic. Sure. Whatever you say-”

“He’s not a copy! He’s his own person, and I won’t hear you talk that way about him anymore.” Amy snapped. 

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry.” Sonic stopped where he stood. “I didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t. I’m glad he’s put the work in to have a personality outside of murder.”

“Good.” Amy crossed her arms. 

“Still, you gotta admit, it is pretty funny that you ended up with-”

She stood from the couch. “Would you stop that?!”

“Woah, woah, seriously, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Don’t you get it? He’s everything I wanted you to be!”

Sonic’s mouth snapped shut. 

“He’s quiet and thoughtful and patient! He writes me poetry. He gets me roses because he knows I like them and sets up dinner dates to spoil me. He’s letting me teach him how to bake and even though he gets frustrated that he’s not good at it right away, he’s not overly competitive about everything all the time! He loves hearing me talk about my ‘girly stuff’ like clothes and tarot and he has so much patience with me whenever I get like, like,” she gestured to herself, “like this!”

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes when Sonic didn’t move, didn’t even blink in response. 

He eventually pointed to the kitchen. “Want some water?”

“Well?” She replied. 

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Except it’s not your fault that you’re not all that. You’re not all that. That’s not you.” Amy choked back her tears. “And it’s not fair for me to want that from you, so I found someone who could.”

Sonic looked at her, then to the door. But he didn’t run. “Yeah, yeah, I mean, I guess. . . that makes sense.”

“It’s not that you aren’t, aren’t like that at all, not that you don’t have patience because obviously you do because you’re still here even though I’m yelling at you.”

“Here, I’ll get us some water. Be right back, I promise.”

Three seconds later, he returned with two paper cups from Tails’ kitchen. He set one down on the coffee table. She picked it up and took a sip. She then took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry-”

“-I’m sorry.”

They paused and looked at each other. 

“I’ll go first. I’m sorry. I’ll stop joking about it. I didn’t realize it bothered you so much.” Sonic said.

“Okay. And I’m sorry. You’re still my friend.”

“I’m glad.”

“But yeah, it was pretty rude. Thanks for the apology.”

He gave a small, close-lipped smile. “Honestly though, jokes aside, I’m really glad that you found someone who makes you happy.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in return. 

Sonic once again glanced to the door, before pausing. “Do you want a perfectly platonic make-up hug?”

“Huh?”

“I know how much you like hugging our other friends, so if you want a hug, I’ll give you one?”

“Thanks, but, I also know how much you don’t like hugs. How about a handshake instead?”

He rubbed the back of his quills before extending his hand. She took it, and they shook. 

“I can picture it already!” Sonic grinned. “The lovely bride, Amy, walking down the aisle. . .”

“Maybe not for a while yet. I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Amy Rose? Not rushing into a relationship?”

She playfully swatted his hand away. “Oh, stop that!”

They smiled at each other.