#and she went out and then came back with a friend??? and i could hear them talking and shit??

[leah-lover]

Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Summary: new job, old friends , and memories your tried to forget. Will you be able to dodge the past as you navigate your new job?

“ More news arrived from the RFEF who have promised that they were going through a systematic change after the Luis Rubiales scandal. They have announced this morning the arrival of a new head coach to lead the women’s team in the upcoming euro cup which will be held in switzerland. The 33 years old coach came from the united states where she led her team to victory in the nwsl. Her name may sound familiar to you because she was a part of Vilda's coaching staff until she decided to step away for unknown reasons. Although she has never coached a national team before, the new RFEF president is confident she will heal wounds left by her predecessor mostré tomé and restore the team to its winning ways.” says the reporter on the TV. you were sitting on your couch listening to her talking about your new job with player’s files in your lap. The international break was in 7 days and you needed to get familiar with everyone and have a clear plan of your strategy. 

Being back in Spain brought back so many memories. You haven't come back since everything went down and you quit your job. You swore you would never come back to work with the RFEF however seeing everything unfold in the news you knew that agreeing to come back was more of a necessity than a choice. You loved the girls very much and you knew that they deserved better than what they got and you were adamant on giving them the best. Moreover, the new president was a woman you knew and was friends with. You trusted her and agreed to give her a chance. Besides Barcelona was the best city in the world, you couldn't pass up the chance to come back home. 

As soon as you accepted your position, you contacted old colleagues, ones that you knew you could trust,  and combined them with some of the existing staff that you were 100 percent sure were a safe fit for the new environment you were hoping to achieve and formed your new staff and announced it to the media. The fans were shocked at the amount of changes you made and their comments were very supportive of your decision which gave you a boost of confidence. 

All you were thinking about was this team. You held and attended meetings all day long. You practically lived on your desk but it was all worth it because it all led to this phone call you were pursuing since the day you got to barcelona. You waited in front of your laptop anxiously waiting for your star player to join the zoom call. Shortly after you see her face pop on your screen. 

“ hola.” you say enthusiastically. “ hola.” she replies. She looked much older since the last time you saw her, which was 4 years ago. 

“ Thanks for agreeing to this call. It  truly means a lot.” you say playing with a pen in your hands. 

“ yeah it wasn't easy but i thought why not hear you out.” she replied. 

“ So I am gonna get right to it. I want you to be back in the national team. You are the best center back i know, i want you to be in the te am, and you deserve to have a place in this team.” 

“ I see you haven't changed, you are still as honest as you were but I would have to decline.” responded mapi. 

 “ I am turning things around maria. You know me, you know my story, you know everything. This time is different. I came back to make things different. You watched everything happen in front of your eyes. Do you truly think I could make someone feel the way I felt back then?” 

Mapi stayed quiet, she was perhaps thinking about that night you decided to leave everything behind. The night the idea of las 15 was created. 

“ okay.” you hear her say. “ I will come to this camp.” you are overjoyed “ you wont regret it leon.” 

 Your happiness was cut short because you remembered that you had to do this 2 more times with pina and leila. After 2 very long phone calls you got them to trust you and to agree to the return to the national team. You then drafted the call up list and sent it to your assistant. 

The days leading up to camp went by quickly as your plans of the first steps towards rebuilding were coming to fruition. 

You were sitting in your office when  you heard a knock on the door, it was your assistant coach informing you that the players began   to arrive. A wave of nerves watched over you but that was to be expected. You were a part of this team before and you hoped they would welcome you back with open arms. You were wearing casual clothes so that you won't be seen as authoritarian. You settled for a white t-shirt, black pants and shoes, and you wore your hair down. Your objective was to appear normal and friendly to the members of the team you weren't familiar with. You headed straight for the conference room and waited for the first people to arrive. Shortly after that Irene walked through the door. You were instantly transported back to 4 years ago which is the last time you and the captain have spoken. You closed your eyes briefly to try and get the bad memories away and open a new chapter with the captain. You shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with her and the rest of the barca group but quickly moved on to the other members that had joined. After they were all settled in their chairs you noticed the absence of the person you were most afraid to see, alexia putellas. Before you accepted the job you wrote down a pros and cons list. The first reason you put on the pros was the paycheck and the glory. However for the cons the first thing you wrote down was alexia putellas’s name. Seconds after you thought about her she appeared. She was just as beautiful and charming as you remembered. She immediately came to you but without sharing eye contact with you. She went in to kiss your cheek as a way to say hello and you did too. She still smelled like before and her smell still had a magnetic power over you. She then took a seat next to Irene and you pulled yourself together again and started your presentation. 

“ Hello everybody and welcome. You all heard of me, some of you even were a part of my team when I was working here which feels like a lifetime ago. But in that lifetime this team has risen from the underdog to the most favored and feared team in the world. I am here to continue that legacy and help the team strengthen its roster. But I am also here to create an environment, a culture, and a safe space for you all.  You all are the best in Spain and you deserve to be treated like it. This culture I am trying to create involves no tolerance for homophobia, transphobia, racism, or sexism. I urge you to report any case of abuse or mistreatment from my staff or your teammates. I tried my best to employ people I trust and are advised to report anything that made you uncomfortable.  So Without further or do let's talk strategy.” 

You go over everything you expect from the team and how the strategy is going to change. You then instruct your team to go rest so that training may begin tomorrow at 9 am. 

On their way out you called for the captain to have a word with them. Once the room is empty you quickly say ” so you heard everything i said, i just want to make sure that you two know that i mean Plus the captaincy is going to change. Obviously, you two are the captain and vice. You can come with me with any concern or question about anything.my door is always open.  I am appointing jenni as the 3rd captain.” 

“ That wouldn't go over well with the federation,” said irene. 

“ Well, I don't care. They knew who they hired. Plus I don't play by their rules.” you respond. The captains share a satisfactory look with you although you haven't looked at either of their eyes, then leave. 

Your transition to head coach seemed to be seamless. The players were responding to your advice and strategies. The media seemed to be happy with the changes you made and especially with the arrival of mapi leon. The vibe of the club overall was great, and you were getting comfortable in your new spot. However, it was all about to change at the pro match press conference. The conference itself went great. You and the vice captain answered all the questions given to you without any mishaps. But once the media left and you were left alone with alexia,  you felt yourself suffocating so you quickly got up to leave.  

“ You can't avoid me forever,” said Alexia calmly. 

“ Who said anything about avoiding you?  The conference is done, so I am leaving. If you want to talk to me about anything, my office door is always open.” you say with a cold tone not bothering to look at her. 

“ You don't talk to me like you never do. Besides you won't even look at me." Alexia sounded sad. All you wanted was to take away all her pain but you couldn't. 

“ I talk like this to everybody.” you hear her get up and see her in front of you. Not looking her in her eyes  would prove her point, and doing it would rip you to shreds. You suck it up and look at her hazel captivating eyes. “ Happy now?” you respond. “ We can't continue like this, we have to talk about that night.” 

“ alexia there is nothing to talk about. I forgot everything that happened ,I moved on. I am your coach right now. If you have a concern about anything football related, come to my office.” you were lying straight to her face. You didn't move on or forget what happened. You just hoped your tough girl act would hold with her. 

Game Day was always fun for you but this time around it had a little nervousness attached to it since it was your introduction as the new coach. You started your day witha call from the RFEF board wishing you good luck and re-stating their confidence in you. You revised your strategy, confirmed you starting 11, and headed to the bus so that you would head to the stadium. You decided on a blue suit and let your hair down. You looked both masculine and feminine   which summed up your personality perfectly. 

Once you arrived at the stadium you gave the girls a motivational speech, headed to your seat in the sidelines and waited for the game to begin. You weren't a loud manager. You just sat there, observed the play and took notes. You trusted the girl’s judgment and gave them some autonomy when it came to the style of play which rewarded you with a goal in the 8th minute by aitana bonmati. The 1-0 unset turned into 6-0 by the 76th minute which made you proud of your debut. However it all turned into chaos when alexia putellas fell on the field. You panicked as the paramedics ran to her. You watched  intensely as they examined her and waited for the signal that informed you that you needed a substitution which you got almost immediately. Your heart broke for the recently healed midfielder but you had other things in mind. You called for Teresa Abelleira and subbed her in. The game ended in a 7-0 win. You shook hands with everybody, did an interview but the thought of alexia didn't leave your mind.  As soon as you were done you semi sprinted to the locker room. Once you got there you found irene. 

“ Is it the acl again?” you ask worryingly. 

“ No, it's just a muscle strain and her knee is acting up again.”  you breathe for the first time in an hour. 

“ This is happening because of you.” she says harshly.

“ Excuse me.” you couldnt believe what you heard. 

“ You shouldn't have come back here. You taking this job was a mistake. You have opened up an old wound and this is just the beginning.”

“ I am going to have to stop you right here. First,  I am your boss not your buddy from back in the day so you are going to have to take a step back and show some respect. Second, you have the nerve to talk to me about making mistakes  knowing that you ruined my life not too long ago.

“ She didn't sleep last night. That's why she got injured today. I am worried about my friend.” 

“ You should have thought about your friend 4 years ago.” you say as you enter the medic’s room leaving her behind. 

You found alexia with tape on her knee and achilles. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see you come in and sit next to her. 

“ I am willing to talk about that night this time only. Say everything you need but once I leave this room you are never going to bring it up again.” 

The only way to make it out is through. You thought.

[connorsui]

Gojo Satoru x fem! Reader || Imagine ||

"He's not that bad!"

♡♡ The room was filled with a sort of palpable tension,

one that made your skin prickle under the weight of Utahime’s burning gaze. Her brown eyes, usually reserved and steady, were now wide with a mix of disbelief and disgust as they bore down on you. It was almost enough to make you want to shrink back and disappear entirely, though you held your ground as best as you could.

“You cannot be serious,” Utahime’s voice was low, cold, and full of judgment. She continued to stare down at you, her disbelief practically radiating from her.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat resounding in your ears as you averted your eyes, unwilling to meet her gaze. How did it come to this? You thought telling your friends about your feelings for Satoru would be an awkward conversation at best, but you hadn’t expected this level of intensity. You fiddled with your fingers, unsure of how to respond.

The silence stretched painfully between you all, until Utahime suddenly backed up, her expression shifting from disbelief to genuine shock. “Oh my god, you’re being serious…” Her voice wavered with disbelief before she exclaimed, “Out of all people, you choose him?!”

Mei Mei, lounging casually nearby with an ever-present air of calm superiority, let a small smile curl at her lips. “Utahime, lower your voice,” she chided softly, her voice smooth and cool as always. “At this point, he’s going to hear you.” She then turned her gaze to you, her smile fading into a frown. “Though, I must admit, (Y/N)… when we asked who was the man keeping you up at night, we didn’t mean for you to choose the most mundane and idiotic out of the bunch.”

You frowned at her words, heat rising to your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and mild frustration. “Oh c’mon, he's not that bad!” you tried to explain, but even you could hear the defensiveness in your tone. “I actually think he's pretty cute…”

Utahime visibly recoiled, her expression a perfect display of disgust. If she could have physically vomited in the corner, you were sure she would have. “But really!? I would be fine if you chose Nanami or even Haibara! Hell, I’d be fine if you dated an ugly curse rather than him!”

You pouted at Utahime's dramatic reaction, but before she could say anything, you continued.

“You’re talking about him like he’s some annoying, egotistical guy,” you mumbled, trying to find some kind of defense. Satoru had his faults, sure, but he wasn’t that bad… right?

At that, both Mei Mei and Utahime responded in unison. “That’s because he is.”

Utahime shook her head. “He’s stupid.”

Mei Mei added, “You’re far better than him.”

“He thinks he’s superior to everyone,” Utahime went on.

“And he’s definitely not worth it,” they both chimed in again, their synchronized complaints making you feel small and foolish.

You opened your mouth to protest to defend Satoru in some way, but you hesitated. They were your friends, and in their eyes, you were making a huge mistake. But they didn’t see what you saw. They didn’t see the moments when his guard came down, the subtle ways he showed he cared.

Before you could muster the courage to respond, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

“Heyyyy laaadiesss, guess who’s baaack,” Satoru called out as he sauntered into the room, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets, a smirk plastered across his face.

Beside him, Geto walked in with a much calmer demeanor, giving you all a casual nod in greeting.

Utahime’s eyes narrowed immediately at the sight of Gojo, and Mei Mei raised an eyebrow, her expression unchanging. You, however, felt your heart flutter involuntarily. Despite everything, despite all the complaints and warnings, the sight of him still made your pulse race.

Satoru’s cerulean eyes flicked to you, and his smirk widened. “Did we miss something? You all look like you’ve been talking about us,” he teased, his tone light and carefree as always.

Utahime rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed by his mere presence. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Geto chuckled softly, clearly amused by the situation, though he stayed out of it, leaning against the wall and watching the scene unfold.

Satoru didn’t seem fazed by Utahime’s hostility, his attention drifting back to you. His smirk softened, just slightly, into something more genuine as he tilted his head. “You weren’t talking bad about meee though riiiight?” he asked, the playful glint in his eyes making your heart skip a beat.

You blushed, unable to stop yourself. “Of course not,” you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.

Mei Mei’s frown deepened as she glanced between the two of you. “Oh dear, she’s hopeless,” she said with a resigned sigh. “She’s actually smitten.”

Satoru, ever perceptive despite his airheaded persona, raised an eyebrow at Mei Mei’s comment, but his focus quickly returned to you. “Smitten, huh?” he mused, his grin turning more mischievous by the second. “Well, who can blame you?”

Utahime groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if this conversation was physically painful for her.

You shot Satoru a glare, but it was half-hearted. His cocky attitude always grated on your nerves, but it was also part of what drew you to him. That, and the moments when he let the façade slip. You saw the way he cared, even if he was a pain in the ass about it.

“Toru,” you sighed, exasperated but fond. “Stop making it worse.”

He laughed, carefree and utterly unbothered, as he stepped closer to you. “Worse? I’m making it better. Admit it, (Y/N), you can’t resist me.”

As much as you hated to admit it, part of you knew he was right.

I had this one in the back burner for a while oops-

[hiiikiko]

001: ‘She’s in a band’

TW: Light smut, Ellie being a jerk tbh. (Not proofread bc I took my meds and I’m feeling lazy :P)

Moving to Seattle wasn’t your first choice, I mean, you were perfectly happy in Arizona. You had friends, family, and most importantly, a band but some drama happened and you wanted to get away from it all. Your first choice was going to California but you had no money, no stable job, and no place to crash so, you reluctantly went to Seattle. At least you’d be closer to the music scene and you haven’t seen your favourite cousin in awhile..

Gazing out the window as the amtrak came to a halt you see Jesse sitting on a bench, legs obnoxiously sprawled out and a toothpick hanging on his lips.

“Can take the boy outta the country but can’t take the country outta the boy,” you chuckle as you gather your luggage and make your way off the bus

“Hey, y/n/n,” Jesse drawls, grabbing your luggage with ease and slinging his arm around you.

“Ugh, get off me you reek of axe and cigarettes,” you tease with a smile playing on your lips as Jesse ruffles your hair and throws your things into the back of his truck.

Jesse’s place was a lot nicer than you though, I guess being a welder does pay off. It was a little messy and could use a homey touch but it was rather nice but you would never admit that to him. Your room was nice too, a little small, but had a great view and even had access to the balcony. The room was bare, plain white walls with a red brick wall on one side, a bed and one singular lamp sitting in the middle of the room.

You settle in while Jesse rifles through your things and rants about his current situationship, “She’s just insane like who asks for your credit score on the first date? Don’t get me wrong, my credit score is so good that it would make ANY girls parties drop.”

You scrunch your nose and throw a hoodie at him as he continues “Hey, I’m just say—“ he begins before hes abruptly interrupted by a call, “Yeah?.. right now?… Alright, alright, alright… on my way, doll.”

“Hmmm, I wonder who that could be,” sarcasm practically oozes off your words.

“It’s Dina,” Jesse winks as he rushes to put his boots on, “Don’t expect me to come back tonight,” he winks.

“Oh, come on,” you trail after him, “It’s my first night! Can’t you stay? We can, like, get dinner and maybe go to a bar?”

‘Nah, I’d rather get laid than hang out with my dorky little cousin,” He says, the door cutting off his voice.

Asshole.

And that’s how you find yourself all alone, sitting at a bar and cheering on the local bands when two girls sit next to you. The girl with short hair remarks, “Those guys were so ass, ‘The Serpahites?’ What the fuck kinda name is that,” her friend laugh at her joke.

“Sounds like a cult,” you mutter under your breath, not meaning for them to hear you but the girl with auburn hair laughs, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop—“ you begin but are quickly interrupted by the girl resting a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude,” a soft smile on her lips.

Fuck, she’s so cute. The way the dim bar lights dance over her facial features and the way her short hair falls softly over her green eyes. She was wearing a flannel but you could tell she had one hell of a body.

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s all good,” she smirks, crap, did she notice the way you were staring?

As you’re debating on whether or not you should call it a night or get on your knees and start apologizing profusely for ever thinking lewd thoughts in the presence of an angel, she gets up, grabbing her friends hand and heads into the back.

Crap, I should’ve asked for her number..

Just as you take another sip from the fruity drink you ordered, you hear the announcer introduce another band called “the Infected.” Sounds pretty cool, you think as you get up from your seat and make your way into the crowd of people.

Must be a popular band.

The curtains are pulled back to reveal the girl you met at the bar earlier, she’s taken off her flannel and is now wearing a form fitting black tank top, low rise jeans, and a pair of worn converse, on her shoulder rests a beautiful black guitar littered with stickers of stars and planets, cute. Along side her is a girl with piercings, long black hair, looks like the lead singer, and oh. my. god. IS THAT JESSE?? He’s no longer wearing a flannel but a plain black tee, denim jeans, and of course, his boots, he’s on drums.

“Jesse!” you cheer as his head whips around and shoots daggers at you, you’ll never let him live this down.

The band plays a wonderful set and gets a lot of cheers from the crowd. Some fans, mostly girls, approach the band afterwards to gush over them, the girl with the auburn hair seems to have the most fans.

You make your way towards the stage to find Jesse, hoping to tease him about what you just witnessed.

“He’s in the back changing,” a voice rasps from behind. “Ah, I see,” turning around, you see the bassist towering over you.

“Heyyy, I know you, we met at the bar, yeah?” She says while looking you up and down.

“Yeah, at the bar,” you manage to get out.

“You’re Jesse’s cousin? Huh, didn’t know you were coming out tonight, if I had known, I would’ve put on a better show,” she smirks as a light blush sweeps over your face. How could such a small comment illicit this small reaction from you? Maybe it was the way she said it, her voice raspy from singing on backup.

“That show was really great, I enjoyed it a lot. Seems like y’all are popular,” you glance over at a small crowd of girls shooting glares in your direction for talking to their bassist.

The auburnette chuckles and glances back, winking at the girls, “Yeah, we got a few.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the faux humility, unfortunately, she catches this.

“What was that?” She laughs, studying your face.

“I can tell already, you’re such a cliche, right? I bet you sleep with all your little fangirls, give them the night of their lives then leave them in the dust, right? Just so you can feed your ego and make yourself feel better for whatever attachment issues you got going on.”

She looks awestricken. You knew her type all too well, I mean you were in a band and you’ve encountered A LOT of band mates are like that. Hell, even rock’s beloved dad, Dave Grohl, did something similar.

“Touché,” she smirks and leans up against the stage, her green eyes hungrily taking you in, “You’re interesting, let me buy you a drink.”

About half an hour later, you’re in the back of her van, panting with her lips on your neck and her knee pressing up against your aching cunt. She’s whispering sweet things into your ear which causes your hips to involuntarily buck up against her hand.

“So fuckin’ needy f’me, aren’t ya?” She mumbles against your neck, “All that talk just for you to melt into my touch,” you can feel her smirking against your neck.

“Shut up,” you say, barely getting it out through desperate whimpers and pants.

The next morning, you wake up in her apartment, alone and half naked, only wearing your panties and a shirt you didn’t recognize. You groan as you stumble out of bed, this hangover might actually be the death of you. You make your way over to the kitchen for some water only to find a sticky note next to some tylenol and water, it reads ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’

What the actual fuck. Not even a good morning or at least a hi?

You crumple up the note, leaving it on the counter to hopefully get the message across.

“Typical bassist,” you mutter before leaving.

Later that evening, you facetime your friend, Lila.

“So… she basically told you to get out? What the fuck! You should’ve totally wrecked everything, stolen her shampoos, bleach wash her clothes, pour glitter all ov—“

Laughing you say, “Okay, okay, Lils, I get it but seriously? Glitter is going a little too far.”

“Not far enough, I’d say,” she mutters, “So…. was it good, at least?

“Good? It was total ecstasy but I mean, that’s to be expected.”

Lila cocks her head to the side, obviously confused, “Wha?”

“She’s in a band, meaning, she obviously has a lot of experience.”

“SHE’S IN A BAND???????” Lila’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, “Wait, nah, girl, this is all on you. Rule number one, never sleep with a girl in a band, they will totally ruin your life. They’re good at giving head because they have to hide how evil they are somehow.”

You groan, “Ugh, I know., I know!” but your mind goes back to last night, the sight of her between your legs, the feeling of her hot breath against your ear, the sight of her on top with your legs draped over her shoulders, the way—

Fuck.

(A/n: This is my first fic since I was like 16 so be nice lol next one will be better, I promise, I just really suck at writing intros)

[aplaceinme]

Tommy tiptoed out of the room, being careful so as not to wake up Buck. They had arrived from Eddie’s place a couple of hours ago, and while Buck had fallen asleep rather quickly after Tommy left him completely satiated, Tommy found that he couldn’t sleep. 

He went down to his basement, where he kept his studio piano. It was in there, hidden, for a reason. 

Turning on the light, he approached the bench and sat down. He touched the fallboard softly, it was almost a caress. 

The piano was old, but it still sounded good. It had belonged to Tommy’s mother, who loved music. Everything about her had been musical. She loved to sing and would do it while cooking, washing the dishes, folding their clothes, and in the shower. She knew how to play the piano, the guitar, the clarinet, and the violin. Her voice was melodic, and even her laugh chimed like silver bells. 

She would always sing lullabies to get him to fall asleep. And she had also been the one to teach him how to play the piano. 

Being at Eddie’s place today made him think of her. Just like Chris, Tommy lost his mother when he was also a little kid. 

Tommy knew that Eddie made a lot of mistakes and that Chris had legitimate reasons to be mad, but he also knew that Eddie was trying to be a good parent. And that was something that Tommy never had. 

After his mom had died, Tommy’s dad turned into a cold man, whose only joy in life was drinking everything he could get his hands on. Music no longer had a place in their home. 

His father had forbidden Tommy to play the piano and had sold it to a neighbour. All the rest of the instruments had a similar fate.  

During high school, Tommy had started to work for one of the town mechanics and had saved every single dollar of his paycheck. Once he had gotten enough, he had knocked on his neighbour’s door and had begged him to sell him the piano back. His neighbour had refused the money, and Tommy had been devastated. He had run back to his house and had sobbed on his bed, which ended up earning him a beating. A circumstance that had turned into a daily occurrence.

Years passed and one day, when he was back in the States and waiting to be deployed, he got a call from a lawyer. His neighbour had died and had left him a piano. Tommy’s knees had bucked up and he had gotten all choked up. It wasn’t until he saw the piano, and touched it again after years of not doing it, that the tears came. 

Ever since then, the piano had been with him whenever he lived, but in a place where he wouldn't see it all the time.

Over the years, he started to play again but only occasionally. Playing it was always a bittersweet situation. He would get wonderful but painful memories of his mom.

Now, Tommy opened the fallboard and positioned his hands above the keys. 

He thought about today. About how Eddie had tried to make a home for Chris, and how he was still trying little by little to make a better one for him. Tommy had lost the feeling of having a home when his mother was gone, and no matter how hard he had tried since then, with friends, with co-workers, and with previous relationships, he never got that feeling back. But maybe now things could be different. Maybe now…

Sighing, he started to play a random tune, just letting his fingers move where they wanted.

Soon, he started to play a song that he had heard a while back while on a date with Buck and that had resonated deeply with him. 

Closing his eyes, he began by just humming the lyrics, but then he started to sing softly. 

“I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain

We all need someone to stay

We all need someone to stay

Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?”

“I didn’t know you could play.”

Buck’s voice startled him, making him jump and stop playing abruptly. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Buck said, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

Smiling and feeling breathless at the adorableness of one Evan Buck Buckley, Tommy replied, “It’s ok, I was just lost in my head, and in the music.”

“Can I?” Buck pointed at the bench.

“Of course,” Tommy said, making room for him. 

“So, you know how to play piano?” 

“Yeah, my mom taught me when I was a kid.”

“That’s nice. I’ve always wanted to play an instrument but I’ve never learned,” Buck admitted sheepishly. 

“Well, no time like the present,” Tommy reassured him.

“What?” Buck squeaked. “No, no. Maybe another day, now I want to hear you. It sounded beautiful. Please?”

“Ok, ok. Don’t give me that look, it’s not fair! You know I can’t say no to your baby blues.”

A blush started to creep up from Buck’s neck but he smiled that sweet and loving smile that seemed to be just for Tommy. 

Tommy breathed deeply and started to play once again. 

“You were alone left out in the cold

Clinging to the ruin of your broken home

Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me”

Opening his eyes, which had closed once he had started singing softly, he looked directly at Buck. 

Buck’s eyes were glistening with tears, but they also reflected what they had yet to say to one another. Those three little but powerful words. Tommy was sure his eyes were reflecting the exact same thing.

With his heart in his throat, Tommy continued the song, never breaking eye contact with Buck.

“Hear the fallen and lonely cry out

Will you fix me up, will you show me hope?

The end of the day and we're helpless

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?

Can you keep me close, can you love me most?”

He barely finished the song, his voice hitching at the end.

Silence reigned in the basement. 

They looked at each other intently, saying with their eyes all the things they wanted to say to each other but couldn’t because they were still afraid, and insecure given their previous life experiences. 

If they could, they would be saying, “You could be my home. Can I be your home?” and “I want to be loved, can you love me? Because I love you.” 

They weren’t there yet, so instead, Tommy lifted his hand to Buck’s jaw and kissed him. It was a tender, loving, and deep kiss. 

Yes, they weren’t there yet, but they were going to. Tommy was starting to believe it more and more. Buck might just be the one who could stay and make a home with him.

Song: Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART XI

Summary: the situation complicates further as Tommy’s stay in Sicily nears its end. It’s time for conversations, and things that have been buried for too long are brought to the light.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, angst, English is not my first language. This chapter is 18+, smut (I’m still not used to writing it but here we go). This is set between season 1 and 2.

Like in some previous chapters, some conversations are supposed to be in Italian but for obvious reasons I kept them in English.

A/N: sorry this is really long. I hope it makes up for the wait!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dividers credits

Tommy’s proposal to Agnese had brought quite the hustle in the Ferrante’s property. A stream of relatives and friends had been coming to congratulate the new couple in the past few days, and people continuously came and went to make the arrangements for the wedding - or simply pry in the family business. And with the engagement party being held that night, it was impossible for Nina to step out of the house without bumping into some caterer or seamstress or, if she was particularly unlucky, some cantankerous old aunt who would stray away from her as if she were the Devil incarnated.

Her mood, which was already dark to begin with, had considerably worsened, forcing her to withdraw into isolation to avoid all possible conflict. She was easily irritated, she couldn’t stand her mother’s complaints, her father’s deceitfulness, her brothers’ haughtiness, and she couldn’t help herself from talking back or snapping when something bothered her. She could tell they were fed up with her insolence, that she was treading on thin ice, but she drew a twisted satisfaction from getting on their nerves. It was the only way she had to get back at them for the hell they were putting her through. Her role in the family, the impossibility of being something more than she was expected to be, the threat of a forced marriage with Stefano that was becoming less of a prospect and more of a certainty with each day that passed. And now that. Having to watch as the marriage between Tommy and Agnese took form, pretending with her cousin she was genuinely happy for her.

It was tearing her apart from the inside. At this point, Nina couldn’t wait for them to get married, so that Tommy would leave her house, her country, and set her free from the deep ache she felt every time he was near. It would be difficult, at first, but in time she’d forget about him, about the way he made her heart race, about how safe she felt in his arms.

“I’m going over to aunt Rita,” her mother hastily walked into the kitchen, holding a sewing box in her hands. “I’m helping her embroider the bedsheets for the trousseau.”

“Mhm.” Nina merely raised her eyes from the book she was pretending to read. Hearing about bedsheets and trousseaus was the last thing she needed in that moment, especially if it had to become yet another excuse to reproach her for not having the intention to get married anytime soon.

All of a sudden the book was soon snatched from her hands. When she raised her gaze, her mother was looking at her with a stern look on her face.

“Your friend has been invited to the party,” she said bitterly, as though the matter was somehow her daughter’s fault.

Nina’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. It didn’t take a genius to understand who said friend was.

“The whole Spinietta family has been invited,” Maria went on, slamming the book on the table.

She swallowed harshly, the implications of that gesture rapidly sinking in. “Are you serious?”

“I warned you,” her mother pointed a finger at her. “If you had listened to me, maybe it would’ve been Angelo, not him.”

Nina rolled her eyes. Again with her friend’s son. What did she want, to put a death sentence on the poor man? She grabbed the cup of tea that had grown cold in front of her, and got up to pour its content in the sink.

“Did I tell you he’s a teacher?” Maria started again. “I bet he acts all intellectual just like you.”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll intellectualise away from me. Unless he wants to get on the Spiniettas’ bad side, that is. Or dad’s.” She started to aggressively scrub the cup, taking out her anger on the fragile item. “And who says he’d be interested in me anyway?”

Her mother looked at her as if a second nose had grown on her face. Despite her unusual behaviour, Nina carried herself well, looked nice, had an education that most girls could only dream of. Her Italian was outstandingly clean, almost devoid of dialectal influences, and clear. Her brain worked incessantly, she had complex thoughts, and it was often difficult to keep up with her. Not to mention how she managed to give even men twice her age a hard time with the sole power of her words.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’d find me ugly,” Nina shrugged, “or stupid.”

“You’re my daughter, you can’t be ugly or stupid.”

Nina let out a sigh, drying her hands on a towel. There was no point in arguing. In those situations, it was better to let her mum vent until she got tired of talking with a stone wall and gave up.

Maria dropped the sewing box on the table with a thud. Once she had her daughter’s attention back in her, she started speaking again, a grave expression on her face. “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in. If your father says yes to Stefano, then he won’t be able to say no anymore,” she said lowly. “You need to act before he says yes.”

“He can’t force me.”

If her father really decided to go through with it, she’d drop the bomb on him that she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe she could do it in front of Stefano, for the pleasure of watching his smug grin disappear from his face. Would she be irremediably deemed as a whore? Yes. Would she bring shame upon her whole family? Absolutely. It would still be better than being Spinietta’s wife.

“You can’t change my mind on this, mum,” she concluded in a tone that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Her didn’t mother didn’t reply, but the disapproval was clear on her face.

“You know what?” Maria picked up the box from the table again and put it under her arm with a nervous gesture. “I don’t care. Do what you want,” she said sharply, leaving the kitchen.

As soon as she heard the front door closing, Nina exhaled deeply. That was another issue she’d have to deal with, apparently. She wasn’t sure her mother would give up so easily, and she was scared she’d try to act behind her back like her father was.

Her father. Her blood boiled in her veins as her mind went back to the reason why the argument she had just gotten out of had started in the first place. It was time to talk to him, to make it clear that she would never accept to marry that bastard, that she didn’t need time to decide cause she had already made up her mind. The sooner they had that conversation, the sooner all that would end. Hopefully.

Animated by a fiery resolution, Nina strode through the house with large, quick steps. She didn’t pay attention to her brothers, who were heading to the kitchen to have breakfast, nor to Tommy, who was waiting in the large hallway for her father to let him in, and was now looking at her with a puzzled look on his face.

She stormed in her father office, slamming the door behind her. He raised his head from the papers he was signing, looking at her questioningly, but not without a hint of reproach for bursting into his private room without even knocking.

“What does this mean?” Her voice came out more high-pitched than she intended. She stopped in front of the dark wooden desk, forcing him to pay attention to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Her father leaned back in his chair, rolling his cigar between his fingers, keeping his oblivious facade. A new wave of rage ran through Nina, but she was careful to contain it. “You invited the Spinietta family to the engagement party,” she explained through gritted teeth.

Unimpressed by her accusations, he stubbed out his cigar, then folded is hands on his lap. “The Spiniettas are close friends of ours,” he said calmly.

“Right,” she let out a humourless laugh. “You became pretty close over the last month.”

“Business is growing.”

“Ah,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Business.”

Her father clenched his jaw, and from the way his shoulders had stiffened she could tell he knew exactly where the conversation was going. And that he didn’t like her mocking tone.

“Is there a problem, Nina?”

“You tell me. Is there something going on that could be a problem for me?”

She wanted to hear it from him. She wanted him to admit it out loud. She was tired of being treated like she was crazy, like she was imagining things. She wanted honesty.

Vincenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if hit by a sudden headache. “I need to talk to Mr Shelby, can we-”

“You’re talking to me,” Nina said firmly, raising her voice.

Her father straightened his back, leaning with his elbows on the wooden surface in front of him. He fixed his gaze on her, his features hardening with austerity. “Mind how you speak to me, I’m your father,” he warned her.

“So I should stay quiet while you make decisions about my life,” she spat out. The way he was trying to impose his authority on her just because he had no arguments to defend himself made her stomach churn.

“I’m not making decisions.”

“You are,” she slammed a hand on the the desk. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Her father reached his hand out, keeping his voice still low. “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down!”

Ferrante took a deep breath, raising from his chair to properly speak to his daughter. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was disrespect, but getting angry wouldn’t work, not now, at least. It would only make Nina more stubborn. If he wanted her to listen to him, he needed to get his point across nicely.

“What do you want to do with your life?” he asked her, apparently changing the subject.

Nina furrowed her brows, taken aback by his question. She could sense he was trying to direct the conversation somewhere, and she was quick to pull herself together.

“I want to study,” she said steadily.

“You’ve finished school,” he countered.

“There’s university.”

“Women don’t go to university.”

Nina squinted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then I want to work.”

“Poor women need to work. Do you want to ruin your hands in a factory?”

A glimpse of irony flashed across his face. Once again, his purpose seemed to be to make her feel stupid, or naive, like she had no idea how the world worked. The thing was, he was right, to some extent. Nina had little experience, she didn’t know everything. But there were things she knew, things she didn’t like, and she wasn’t going to accept them just because that was how life was.

Vincenzo walked around his desk to approach her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his expression softening. “I’m only worried about you,” he said. “About what your life will be like if you go on like this.”

“It’s my life, dad,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes against her will. “Maybe you’re right, and I’m ruining myself with my own hands. But the choice is mine to make.”

Despite everything, she thought she could make him understand. There had to be a way to get through him, to make him see, she didn’t want to ruin the bond they had always had. Because she would make her own decisions either way, and she wished for him to support her. She needed him to support her.

“You’re my daughter. I can’t stand back and watch you do that to yourself,” he shook her slightly. “Let go of these fantasies, Nina. Real life is something else.”

Of course. How stupid of her to imagine that he could even try to understand. She shrugged his hands off, forcing back her tears. “You’re wrong.”

Her father nodded to himself, taking a step back. “We’ll see,” he simply said. “As for Stefano, I told you already. The choice is up to you, I’m not forcing you to do anything,” he reassured her, but his condescending tone had the opposite effect.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, but that son of a bitch is always around.”

“Language.”

Nina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. He didn’t see the point. He didn’t want to see the point. He only cared about business, about power. Why was she wasting her time?

She made her way towards the door, but she stopped in her tracks when her hand grabbed the handle. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke again, but she didn’t around to look at him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

Tommy watched as Nina strode out of Ferrante’s study with a face like thunder. He had heard the screams, but he hadn’t been able to make out what the fuss was about, the long sequence of Italian sentences unfamiliar to him.

Those kinds of arguments had happened frequently, over the last three days. Nina had become unmanageable - not that she had ever been the manageable type. But she had gotten worse. If someone so much as glanced at her the wrong way or said one word too many, she’d turn it into an excuse to fight. She was sensitive, and snappish, and she seemed to have lost the ability to put on her mask of coolness and indifference. As a way to heal his wounded ego, which still burned from the things she had said to him, he told himself it was a good thing she had rejected him. If she had the gall to talk back to her father like that, there was no doubt she’d act even worse with her husband, and he had enough headaches already. And for sure, he would’ve never wanted to be at the receiving hand of her temper.

Nina stopped in front of him, recollecting herself, and Tommy couldn’t not notice she radiated the same frigidity as when they had met for the first time. “My father wants to see you, Mr Shelby,” she said coldly.

Ah, now she called him Mr Shelby. As if she hadn’t been whimpering his name in his ear a few nights before.

“I think we’re way past the formalities, sweetheart.”

His remark was enough to make her falter. She blinked up at him, shocked by his bluntness.

“Way past,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Will you lower your voice?” she hissed, taking a look around to make sure no one was near.

Tommy held back a smirk at her flustered state. Her usual frown had deepened, and a tinge of red had crept up her cheeks. Had the situation between them been different, he would’ve gladly went on. He had to remind himself he wasn’t in the position to tease her anymore. Nina had said it very clearly, she didn’t care about him. What had happened between them had been a mistake, she regretted it. She regretted him.

Then why were her eyes telling a different story?

Nina huffed, tucking a rebel strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s waiting for you,” she murmured.

Her arm brushed against his as she walked past him, sending a spark of electricity through his whole body. Leaving him wondering when he had gotten to the point where the slightest contact threatened to make his self-control crumble.

Nina examined her figure in the mirror, a niggling uneasiness taking over her. She wasn’t used to doll herself up like that. She had put on a beautiful dress for the occasion, done her makeup, managed to tame her long hair, and she had half-hoped she would be happy with the result once she was done. However, in her silk dress, in her makeup, with her hair away from her face, Nina felt like a fraud. Ridiculous, even.

She had always been the ugly duckling of the brood. When her cousins had started to bloom into beautiful women, she was still all elbows and knees, drawing the petty comments of her aunts, poorly hidden behind harmless jokes. She remembered all too well the embarrassment she felt every time they pointed out her flat chest, joking about how if she cut her hair she could be mistaken for a boy. She was ashamed to admit that even though she wasn’t that gawky kid anymore, those words had stuck with her. She tried to convince herself she didn’t care about being pretty, that her mind was her primary concern, but the truth was, sometimes she wanted to feel pretty.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just pretend, she told herself, straightening her back. It was a little exercise she had trained herself to do over the years. Head high, impassive face, don’t let them get to you, act like you know exactly what you want, walk like you know exactly where you’re going. It worked, most of the times. Maybe if she pretended long enough one day she’d be able to convince herself as well.

Once ready, she crossed the upstairs floor of the house, reaching the separate corridor in which her parents’ bedroom was located. Her mother was standing in front of a full-length mirror, fixing some pins in her hair. Nina leaned against the doorframe, and allowed herself to stay in her company for a while.

Out of the comfortable clothes she used to wear, out of the kitchen, out of the restraints of her role as a wife and a mother doomed to annihilate herself, she looked years younger. The dress she was wearing was modest, elegant, and the dark blue shade perfectly complimented her complexion. The shadow of a rare genuine smile grew on her face as she put on her pearl earrings, mixed with an emotion Nina couldn’t quite recognise. She could almost swear there were tears in her eyes. Nina realised she didn’t even remember the last time she had seen her mother taking care of her appearance like that, and that finally having the chance to do it must be a source of melancholy as well as joy. Was that what a life dedicated to the care of a whole family had done to her? Had she forgotten herself to that degree?

“What are you looking at?” Maria asked gruffly, glancing at her daughter through the mirror.

How sweet. Nina pursed her lips to hide a sly grin, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Nothing.”

Her mother frowned, smoothing down her dress, then she turned around to face her. She looked at the ground for a moment, then back at Nina, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “How do I look?”

A pang of sorrow spread in Nina’s chest at the thought that her mother might feel anything else but beautiful. “Stunning, mum,” she said truthfully.

“Is this too much?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

The older woman turned to the mirror again, her features softening. “Go downstairs, tell your father I’m almost ready.”

Reluctantly, Nina mustered up the courage to get out of her hiding, mechanical step after mechanical step, like a man facing the gallows. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to feel her relatives’ judgmental stares on her. She didn’t want to see Stefano. She didn’t want to watch Tommy and Agnese be officially presented as a couple. Husband and wife. It made her feel sick. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Tommy standing on top of the staircase, checking the time on his pocket watch, handsome in his formal attire.

His head shot up upon hearing the sound of her footsteps, and for a while it felt like the whole world had stopped turning just for him to have that moment. That moment to look at her, to take in the sight of her in her long, light blue dress that enhanced her tanned skin; with her ebony hair pinned up, exposing her delicate neck and cleavage, instead of hiding her as usual.

“You…” Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, his mouth dry. You’re beautiful.

He didn’t dare say it.

“Hi,” Nina murmured, fidgeting with her own fingers. She had no idea of what to do or say. Standing there and staring at him like an idiot was clearly not an option, so she decided to approach the stairs. But one look at the long series of steps was enough for her to understand that there was no way she could descend it in her heels without making a fool of herself. Had she been alone, she would’ve gripped the railing like her life depended on it and ungracefully stomped her way down.

As if he had read her mind, Tommy offered her his arm without uttering a single word. He limited himself to peering at her, his gaze indecipherable, intense. Nina accepted his help, trying not to think about how natural it felt to have her hand in the crook of his elbow as they climbed down the stairs. Her legs were shaking, probably not because of the shoes, and she just hoped she wouldn’t trip over her feet and ruinously fall on her face. When she walked down the last step, she realised she had been holding her breath the whole time.

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting go of his arm.

Tommy nodded, taking a step back.

He needed a drink - or possibly two or three - to give him the strength to get through the night. Now more than ever he felt like he was putting handcuffs around his wrists rather than a ring on his finger. He had been telling himself that everything was going reasonably well, that following the plan which had been made over a month before was the best thing to do. He was going to marry the woman they had chosen for him, a beautiful woman, who would make him look good. Agnese was sweet, and gentle. She would take care of the house, of him, give him children. He would have a good life with her. She would bring him peace, turn his house into a safe place away from the wickedness of his business.

Nina would’ve brought him the storm. With her, a life of confrontation, of compromise, maybe even conflict would’ve awaited him. He would’ve had to answer to her, to accept her sharp edges and the sides of her that weren’t easy to deal with.

No, he was lying to himself. Confrontation, compromise, conflict had been his daily bread since he was a kid. His restless nature had never cared for peace. His skin was thick enough not to get cut on her edges. And pain had never scared him anyway. But that didn’t matter. The wedding would be in two weeks, then he would leave that place behind. Leave Nina behind. He’d forget about her like he had forgotten about Grace. He had done it once, he could do it again. Even if he’d prefer to rip his heart out of his chest.

For the engagement party, Agnese’s family had chosen to celebrate in the garden that surrounded the two houses. Everything had been planned with the outmost care: there were tables, flowers, candles, waiters balancing trays of champagne, musicians playing mesmerising tunes. A whole team of chefs had been hired for the delicious dinner. Nina had been pleased to find out that she wouldn’t have to share the table with Stefano, this time, who had sat with his family and other guests far away from her. Nevertheless, she had barely touched her food. Her stomach was still twisted from the events of the day. Now she was standing aside, watching as some couples gathered to dance. Including Tommy and Agnese.

They were both beautiful. Exceptionally so. Agnese was radiant in her ivory dress, she glowed with the happiness of a girl who was about to see all her dreams come true. Tommy held her in his arms with great gentleness as they swayed to the rhythm, and despite the vicious bites of jealousy, Nina was unable to look away. He’d fall in love with Agnese, of that she was sure. Her cousin was stunning, and sweet, and caring, all things Nina was not. Tommy would fall in love with Agnese and realise how blind he had been for ever setting his eyes on someone like her.

A tall figure came to stand by her side, and she was engulfed by the smell of a strong cologne mixed with cigar smoke. The man exuded an aura of power, dominance, along with a calm that was nothing more than a cover for something far more dangerous, unpredictable. Vito Spinietta. Her body tensed, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Sending him a sideways glance, she was met with his calculating gaze. He was inspecting her, assessing her, searching for any weak point as though he could read into her.

“Good evening,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.

“Good evening.”

A heavy silence followed. Nina wasn’t a fool, she was aware that if Stefano’s brother had taken the trouble to go speak to her it wasn’t to make small talk. The heir to the Spinietta empire was too practical a man to waste his time on pleasantries, and certainly wasn’t there for the pleasure of her company.

“I know there’s no point beating around the bush with you,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “So I’ll be direct. I’m here on behalf of my brother.”

Nina tilted her head in amusement. Had it really become a family matter? Had a no on her part caused such commotion?

“Stefano’s a good guy,” he announced solemnly. “It’s just that sometimes he acts the wrong way.”

Nina had to hold back a dismissive laugh at his statement. A good guy. It was almost as pathetic as the excuse he had made up for his behaviour.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?”

“He cares about you.”

“So you’ve taken it upon yourself to play Cupid,” she said bitterly, with a little edge of sarcasm, earning herself a stern look. “It doesn’t suit you,” she shook her head, mocking him behind an expression that was meant to feign innocent honesty.

Vito raised his chin, reacting with silence to her insolent replies. “It would be good to unite the families, considering the circumstances,” he said instead. “And a rejection could be seen as…” he paused, searching her face. “An offence.”

His words had Nina knitting her eyebrows in a frown. He had pronounced them in an ambiguous, vague way, but she hadn’t missed the gloomy undertone. “Is this a threat?”

“What do you take me for?” he asked, clearly just pretending to be offended. “I’d never threaten a woman.”

He was playing the card of the man of honour. As if he and his brother hadn’t done even worse to the girls of the town. She had to say something now. Too long had she let Stefano scare her, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with Vito. The Spiniettas weren’t the only ones who got power, she came from a tough family as well, and she would no longer forget who she was.

“Listen,” she started, turning to properly look at him. “I’m not scared of you, or your brother, or your threats.”

Vito clenched his jaw, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Nina took a step towards him, further decreasing the already short distance between them. “You two think you can do as you please because I am a woman?” she narrowed her eyes. “Think again. Cause one word from me and you’ll see your whole organisation fall around your ears.”

“Is this a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Nina wanted to see his mask slip. She wanted him to reveal himself, like Stefano had revealed himself not so long ago, when he had put his hands on her in her own house. She wanted him to give her a reason to draw her knife on him, there, in front of everyone. But Vito wasn’t Stefano. It would take a lot more to make him lose his composure.

Vito took a step back, observing her. He could see why his brother was so adamant on having her. Stefano had always loved a good challenge. He didn’t want someone obedient by nature, someone who would listen to his every command. He wanted someone difficult, someone he could take his time to bend. Or break. It would’ve taken way more than a few slaps to break that one.

Their conversation came to an end when Stefano walked up to Nina, holding out his hand to her. “Wanna dance?”

Nina took a look around. Her situation hadn’t gone unnoticed: most of the guests had been peering at her and Vito, trying to figure out what was going on, and now that Stefano had entered the picture, they were sending them subtle glances, waiting to see if Nina would’ve accepted his invitation. Her first instinct was to say no, but leaving him there in front of everyone would cause quite the stir, and surely take the attention away from the new couple. That was Agnese’s night, and she didn’t have the right to ruin it for her. Not after what she had already done. So she placed her hand in his, and unwillingly let him lead her to the dance floor.

His hand was light on her waist as he lead the dance, yet that contact felt heavy, violent. It made her skin crawl. She focused on the ground behind his shoulders, trying to ignore the weight of people’s stares on them. She was afraid to raise her head and find out Tommy was watching too.

It didn’t take her long to detach herself from her surroundings. She didn’t hear the music, she didn’t see the couples dancing around them, she was only uncomfortably aware of Stefano’s proximity, of the heat of his body, of the burning marks his hands seemed to leave into her flesh. He had the predatory eyes of a raptor as he scrutinised the uncovered parts of her body, taking on the appearance of a beast waiting for the right moment to bite.

“I love you, Nina,” he whispered in her ear, his tone pleading. “I want to make you happy. I want to give you everything.”

Nina could read it on his face. He did think he loved her, he was truly convinced that his sick obsession was love. It’s wasn’t merely a matter of wounded ego, he was sincerely hurt in his own, twisted way. And that was something that could potentially make him even more dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself not to shy away, and she let him speak without interrupting him.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you, and I want to fix them. Let me make it right.” His arm tightened around her as he brought her even closer. “I can be good to you.” There was desperation now in his voice. Nina tried to put some distance between them, but he didn’t let her. “I can be good to you, and you can be good to me. I’ll teach you how to be good to me.” His fingers curled around her hand in a painful grip. “Think about what we could be together. Say yes.”

Nina squeezed her eyes, overwhelmed by his insistent touch, his urgent words; disgusted by the image of them living in the same house that had forced itself into her mind; repulsed by his eagerness to mould her.

The music ended, bringing them back to reality. Nina was relieved to be able to pull away from Stefano, whose grip had finally loosened. He was out of his mind if he thought she could ever forget what he had done to her. A wave of rage ran through her, but she was careful not to let it show. Straightening her back, she looked him dead in the eyes, and just one word left her mouth.

“No.”

Stefano’s face fell, disappointment and anger battling in his irises, and his fist clenched by his side. However, Nina didn’t stay there to wait for a reaction. She turned on her heels and walked away from him, from the dance floor, from the crowd of nosy guests. Her inner turmoil grew with every step, and her state of panic was such that she didn’t even realise she had entered her house. With an irritated huff, she hastily fumbled with her impractical shoes and left them at the entrance, then sought refuge in her bedroom.

She took some deep breaths, rubbing her face. It felt like the more she tried to fix things, the more she made them worse, and there was no way out of that endless cycle. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to act? Who was she supposed to beg to drag her out of that situation? Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that she wouldn’t be able to make it by herself. When had things taken that turn? Had there been a mistake, a single, fateful mistake she had made that had caused all of that? Or was it someone else’s fault? Or was it no one’s fault?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Racking her brains to find a pattern, to put order to the events was useless. They were too tangled, too intricate. It hadn’t started when she had made love with Tommy, nor when he had kissed her, nor when he had appeared in her life. It hadn’t even started when she had pointed a knife at Stefano’s throat, nor when she had let him get close to her all those years ago at school. Had it started, perhaps, when she had insisted on studying? Was it her punishment for wanting more than she could have? More questions, still no answers. The worst thing was, she couldn’t see a way out.

There was a soft knocking on the open door, and when Nina turned around Tommy was there. He looked exhausted, as if the evening had drained him of all his energy. It was unusual to see him like that, he wasn’t the kind of man who let his distress show. For the first time, she realised how much the whole marriage situation had taken a toll on him.

If the reasonable part of her wanted him to leave, the other - the one she seemingly had no control over - needed him close to her. It was absurd how reassuring his presence felt. Maybe that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. When everything around her was swirling, when there was nothing certain or reliable, Tommy was stable, solid. Something to hold on to.

Nina forced those thoughts away. She was losing her mind. Tommy was the least stable thing in her life. He wasn’t there to stay, he would leave in two weeks time and she would never see him again, except for a few occasions, like Christmas or maybe weddings. Indulging in that kind of fantasy would only make things harder.

“Is this your plan?” Tommy suddenly asked, a hint of accusation leaking out of his neutral tone. “Say yes to Spinietta?”

Nina felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her, and her musings disappeared to give way to pure surprise. “What?” she asked in disbelief, widening her eyes.

“You heard me.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’d never do that.”

“Is that why you were dancing with him?” he raised his eyebrows, pointing at the door with his finger, as if Stefano were outside the room.

Nina shook her head, still not believing they were actually having that conversation. “You shouldn’t mix whiskey with champagne,” she said dryly, her voice coming out harsher than she had intended. But Tommy didn’t seem fazed by it.

“You looked rather intimate,” he noted with a touch of contempt, too upset to realise how preposterous his assumptions sounded.

Nina’s mouth fell agape. She hadn’t missed the inflection in his voice. Was he… jealous? She squinted her eyes, taking a step towards him. “What’s this?” she inquired.

Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He wavered, and an emotion difficult to define flashed across his features. It was more than simply pain. It was like all the resentment Tommy had harboured since that fateful afternoon was flowing out, inexorable, making him unable to think with a clear mind. Biting back was the only way he had to protect the feelings he had foolishly let show. Guilt ate at her stomach at the sight, and she had to remind herself she had done what she had done for him, before anyone else.

As if finally coming back to himself, Tommy clenched his jaw, and took on his usual, impassive expression. “I can’t believe you,” he murmured. “After everything he’s done to you.”

Nina nervously fidgeted with her fingers, not knowing how to make him see that he couldn’t be more wrong. Did he think so little of her? “I’m not..” she trailed off, torn between her sense of guilt and her pride. The latter took the upper hand. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have no right to lecture me.”

“True,” he nodded. “I have no right. Cause what happened between us was a mistake and you don’t care about me.”

That was the point. That had always been the point. Tommy thought she had cruelly played him, maybe even used him, just to discard him when she didn’t want him anymore. She exhaled deeply, not meeting his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that,” he let out a humourless chuckle. “You said it, you’re taking it back now?”

“Stop it.”

“Eh?” Tommy’s voice raised, overlapping hers. “Are you taking it back?”

“I said stop.”

“You said-”

“I lied!” she snapped.

A tense silence fell in the room. Tommy blinked, and all the bitterness faded from his features. “Wha… what?” he stuttered, a confused frown forming on his face.

Nina didn’t regret her admission. She was so tired of pretending, of lying, of hurting him, and saying it out loud lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“I lied,” she repeated, more softly. “I never meant to hurt you. I…” her voice cracked. “I did it to protect you. To protect both of us.” There was no going back now. Her walls had been breached, and the words she had fought hard to keep to herself were leaving her lips before she had the chance to measure them. “Do you have any idea how much we’re risking? I’m risking? We talked about it, I told you how these things work.”

Tentatively, Tommy broke the distance between them, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. “Is this what you’re scared of?” he asked incredulous, searching her face frantically, his frown deepening. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you. You hear me?”

Nina believed him. He would stand between her and harm’s way without a second thought. But that was the problem. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over it before pulling it away from her face. “And what about you?”

“What?”

“Do you really think you could’ve changed your mind? That they would let you, at that point? You made your decision when you started courting Agnese.”

“Maybe they would’ve understood-”

“No. Her father would’ve wanted your head for humiliating his daughter. The deal would’ve been off and you would’ve been six feet underground in a matter of hours.”

And I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, she wanted to add.

Tommy didn’t reply, but the pain in his eyes spoke for him. He knew she was right.

Nina gently stroked his cheek. “We never had a chance,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not worth starting a war over.”

Tommy squeezed his eyelids, shaking his head as if to chase that unbearable thought away. Then, impetuously, he kicked the door shut and crushed his lips against hers. The force of the kiss knocked Nina’s breath out of her lungs, but she was quick to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together.

Tommy backed her towards the dresser behind her, then he hoisted her up in his strong arms and sat her on it. A groan left his lips when Nina hooked a leg around him, bringing him even closer. His hands roamed down to her hips, gripping, squeezing, his tongue exploring her sweet mouth. He relished her warmth, her scent, her soft hands caressing his face, trying to imprint every little feeling into his memory. He wanted her, in the most raw, primal way. Because it was the only way he had to have her. Or at least, to delude himself he did. She was like water in his hands, she slipped through his fingers again and again, never letting him hold her, never letting him keep her. But with his fingers digging in her skin, she almost seemed real.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Tommy dropped his forehead into her neck, grabbing her waist. “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Tears began to stream down Nina’s cheeks. She felt like the worst person alive. She was causing so much pain, to him, to herself. She gently stroked the back of his head, sniffling. “You should go,” she compelled herself to say, although in that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to stay. “They’ll notice your absence.”

“They’re all drunk, they won’t,” he contradicted her.

“Agnese will.”

“She’s with her sisters.”

“But-”

Tommy’s head shot up to look at her, silencing her with his icy glare. “Fuck them,” he husked, wiping away her tears.

Fuck them.

Their mouths collided again. Blood rushed through Nina’s veins as Tommy kissed her hungrily. She could feel him everywhere, she was completely enveloped by him, by his smell of soap, whiskey and cigarettes, by the feeling of his rough hands, and yet she wanted more. She wanted to crumble and be brought into a new existence, to melt in his arms and become one heart, one body, one soul.

They only parted so she could help Tommy get free of his jacket. He was back on her right away, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck down to her chest, his teeth grazing the soft skin from time to time, making goosebumps ripple down her skin. He impatiently lifted her dress, fingers brushing against her smooth legs. More free to move, Nina allowed him more space, and her insides clenched with desire when she felt the bulge in his trousers against her.

Tommy’s hand ghosted over her clothed sex, making her squirm in anticipation. “Tommy,” she moaned, urging him to touch her where she needed the most. Pushing her underwear to the side, he slid two digits into her wet entrance, coaxing a sinful, beautiful sound out of her lips. Nina held onto his shoulders as he started to move his fingers, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Tommy commanded, cupping her chin with his free hand. Her eyelids fluttered open, showing him her glossy eyes filled with pleasure, causing his cock to painfully twitch.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her, working her open, eliciting small gasps from her that threatened to make him lose his mind. His thumb went to stroke her clit, the unexpected motion making her yelp.

Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“Tommy, please…” she whispered, clutching the soft material of his shirt. “I need you.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. Wasting no time, Tommy slid his fingers out of her to get rid of her knickers, discarding them somewhere on the floor, then fumbled with his trousers, finally freeing himself from all restraints. He grabbed Nina’s thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the dresser so he could position himself between her folds, then he entered her with one swift thrust, burying himself inside of her. Nina hid her face in his shoulder, one hand coming to cup the nape of his neck, the other clutching the fabric of his shirt. Tommy began to rock his hips, firmly yet slowly, giving her the time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching her walls.

Nina clung onto him as if he could shield her from the unknown, as if he were a shelter, a place where she could forget, even for a moment, the uncertain future that awaited her. A future she tried to escape from, but the more she ran, the more she found it on her heels, ready to catch her, to drag her into the darkness that had been threatening her for years.

Tommy’s pace quickened, becoming more desperate, almost brutal, arms wrapped around her waist, bringing every inch of their bodies together. Nina was surprised to find that was exactly what she needed in that moment. It kept her anchored to him and only him.

“You feel so good,” Tommy growled, digging his fingers in her flesh, and her cheeks burned at his words.

He set a merciless rhythm, pounding into her with sharp thrusts. Nina barely recognised the sounds that were coming out of her, but she was too lost in her pleasure to be worried about them. Breath hitched in her throat when he reached a particular spot that made her see stars, and he hit it again and again, drawing shaky whimpers out of her. With each minute that passed she felt closer and closer to her release, and Tommy must’ve been aware of that too. She let out a strangled noise when he brought a finger to her swollen clit, the fire in her abdomen too much to bear.

“C’mon, love,” he rasped. “Cum for me.”

He drew small circles on her sensitive bud, pushing her over the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, shockwaves gripping her body as she came undone. Tommy kept on thrusting into her, hips ruthlessly snapping as he chased his climax, until with a last, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside of her, grunting in her ear.

For a while, neither of them moved. They stayed in each other’s embrace, panting, savouring that ephemeral semblance of peace. Nina nuzzled her cheek against his, the comforting scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils. Neither of them seemed to intend to let go first.

God, she didn’t want to let him go. Before she could control them, tears filled Nina’s eyes again, and she tried her best to prevent them from falling. Why did it have to be so hard? Why did she have to fall for the one man she could never have? Why did her happiness have to cause so much damage? The most irrational part of it was that despite all of that, being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world. They perfectly moulded together like they had been created just fit into each other’s arms, to fill each other’s voids. Nothing she had ever felt could compare to it.

Eventually, they moved apart. They fixed their clothes in silence, pulling themselves together as best they could. Not that Nina cared at all. There was no way she was going back to the party. No one would notice anyway.

“Go,” she whispered, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “They must be looking for you.”

Tommy gently cradled the back of her head, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll come to you later,” he promised.

Nina nodded, forcing herself to smile. But tears started flowing as soon as she watched him walk out the door.

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@emotionalcadaver

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

@caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

@kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list:

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Sorry for late response, got distracted. But yea I do! I was wondering if you could do headcanons of his crush who is like very dorky cute and just very kind to him whenever she sees him with Mk and Mei. Like the first time they met and he blows up like fire when angry they said “ you’re so beautiful.. ” and every time they see each other it’s like a golden retriever so excited to see him lol and actually has a obvious crush on him. Doesn’t hide it at all and is blunt about thier feelings.

Redson x blunt!golden retriever!reader who is dorky cute and just very kind

The first time you met Red Son was when he tried to take over the weather station and you were in the station surfing in the water area when you saw him stomping around angrily, finding him curious and letting the wave bring you to the shore. It was no shock that you found him gorgeous with his fiery red hair and attitude to match and seeing him made you stumble on your board when you first saw him.

When he did take over the station you hid and grabbed your board, hiding behind one of the pillars as another group of people came in trying to fight him. From listening in you learned that they were Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei, and MK who you recognized to be the Monkie Kid. However, things quickly went south when everyone was either captured or forced out and you were one of the only ones left. hearing footsteps approaching you and reflexively smacking the attacker with your board.

Lo and behold that person or demon rather was Red Son who looked pissed off and hair bursting into flames, blushing at the cute demon in front of you and snapping out of it when he went to chase you. “I’m sorry! It was a reflex and technically it’s your fault for sneaking up on me but you’re pretty cute so I was staring.” You heard some shouts of support and someone hyping you up; unfortunately, he caught you and left you with the other until MK came and freed you guys. Mei apparently was the one who was hyping you up and both MK and her quickly became your friends.

As Red Son showed up more and more you always were obvious about how you felt, complimenting him or his impressive inventions and machines. A couple of times he blushed because of how nice and happy you were to always see him either asking about his work or how he was doing, finding himself dealing with his newfound crush on you and trying to suppress the bubbling excitement he felt whenever he saw you.

Both MK and Mei caught on quickly to his crush and knew you liked him so they ruthlessly teased him and you hinting at the love you both shared. Red Son was still deciding if you liked him back even after all he’s done and working up the courage to confess to you compared to you who is waiting for the right moment when a disaster isn’t hitting the city.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Tale Told in Three Parts (Lydia Deetz x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Each of the Deetz women gets a glimpse into your relationship with Lydia.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, angst

i) Astrid

After the disastrous wake for her grandfather, Astrid was doing her best to avoid Rory and her mother. She wanted to return to school and not be forced to watch the farce of her mother’s life. By extension, she was doing her best to avoid you too. Another one of the people caught up in her mother’s world, she hardly wanted to give you any more thought than she had to.

Still, when she came upon you being so careful as you packed up her grandfather’s possessions, it was hard to hate you.

You’d been in her mother’s orbit for a few years now. She’d never quite been sure of your purpose. Caught somewhere between assistant and friend, you were always in the background, watching and listening, but staying out of the fray. She couldn’t blame you. It’s not as if she wanted to be involved with anything her mother was doing.

But unlike her mother, you would smile and let her sit in silence, and not ask her probing questions in an attempt to force emotional intimacy she didn’t want. Unlike Rory. She could do with less attempts to be her friend from him.

“Hey, did you need something?” you asked, noticing her lingering in the doorway.

“No,” she said.

“Okay.”

You went back to the box, delicately placing an object wrapped in bubble wrap inside. With both hands on your hips, baggy jeans and old worn t-shirt, you looked out of place in the house and in the family. You looked… normal. She couldn’t work out why you were still there, with her mother, letting your life be ruled by such insanity.

“There you are.”

You glanced up again, a smile spreading over your face. Your eyes focused on something over her shoulder, your entire face brightening. Astrid rolled her eyes, turning away, brushing past her mother. Lingering for a moment, she could hear your soft voice, answering whatever it was her mother was saying.

“He said something about getting more boxes,” you said, your voice hardening for a moment.

Maybe that was part of the reason she found you less insufferable than her mother. You made it no secret that you didn’t respect Rory or even particularly like him. She’d heard enough snide comments under your breath to know that, in least in that respect, you were on the same wavelength as her.

Slipping away, she left you to your own bad life decisions. It wasn’t anything to do with her. Not really. She had no interest in whatever was going on.

Even if the way you’d smiled upon seeing her mother was the way her dad used to smile at her too.

A few hours later, as she haunted the upper levels of the house, she happened to glance out the window. Wrinkling her nose at her mother standing on the grass, staring down at the town, she was ready to turn away and go back to ignoring her existence. She paused, a shadow rippling across the grass towards her mother.

She jumped, turning with a disgruntled look on her face. Your smile was wide enough for her to see it from her perch in the upper levels of the house as you approached her mother. A similar smile broke over her mother’s face and she felt something uncomfortable shift under her skin. That smile was almost familiar. One she could almost see as if a dream running through her fingers, hazy from childhood memories.

You said something that made her mother’s shoulders tense again before she seemed to make a concerted effort to relax them. You took another step forward, entering into her personal space, the way so many people never seemed comfortable doing with her mother. Herself being one of those people after everything.

She lingered, an ache in her chest, a bittersweet feeling dripping through her veins. The longer she watched, the more it grew. It wasn’t as if the two of you were doing more than talking. But the way your bodies were curved towards one another, seemingly unaware of anyone else on the property made it seem like it was more.

She watched, almost in slow motion, as your hand reached out, finger gently tapping the tip of her mother’s nose. It wrinkled and your head tipped back as you laughed. Even through the glass from so far away, she could hear it, bright and sunny and so full of joy. Her mother’s face melted into something soft, her lips tugging up in the corners into a small smile. She hadn’t seen that look in so long.

Her heart gave a pang and she turned away. It shouldn’t matter what her mother did with you. You weren’t the one she was choosing to marry. You weren’t the one leeching off her family. You weren’t the one that was ruining her life.

Yet, the feeling lingered long after she’d stopped watching you with her mother.

ii) Delia

Grief was a many pronged thing. Sitting in it was incomprehensible. The house, a constant reminder of all Delia had lost. She could use it. As an artist, exploring her inner feelings was as natural as breathing. Something good could come from all the pain she was forced to feel.

Only the house was full of people and she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Astrid was a relief in many ways, and Lydia was no longer a thorn in her side, but Rory was an active dark cloud on there periphery. You, in amongst all that swirling angst, were a breath of fresh air.

She’d met you a number of times before. One of her step-daughter’s entourage, you were a nice balance to the absolute bullshit that came spewing out of Rory’s mouth. Softer spoken, kinder, straightforward and caring in a way that spoke to the warmth of your soul, she appreciated your presence far more than her soon to be step-son-in-law’s. You offered more comfort in her moment of need. You were happy to take a backseat to her own grief, to let her art shine the way it deserved.

It would be wrong to say she hadn’t developed a soft spot for you. It would be hard not to when compared to Rory. It helped that, while the sleaze of a fiancee Lydia had ended up with tried to ingratiate himself in the family, you offered a steadying force without announcing your intention. In their time of need, you were a rock she was happy to have in the house.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of you as you sorted through a large collection of books she hadn’t wanted to touch. Piles surrounded you, carefully wiping dust off each one with a gentle touch. It’s like you knew everything of Charles’ was precious, that a part of him remained in what he left behind.

It was something Rory would never be able to understand.

You looked up, eyes widening before settling into a small smile when you saw her lingering in the doorway. Head tilted up to watch her walk into the room, you placed the book in your hand into the open box in front of you.

“Did you need something, Mrs Deetz?” you asked.

That was another thing. You were always respectful towards her, a trait that had seemed to have passed by Rory without his notice. She definitely preferred your presence in Lydia’s life than the oaf of a man she’d hitched her cart to.

“No, no. I’m merely passing through in an attempt to capture the wistfulness of a life lost,” she said.

“I can give you the room, if you want,” you said, already rising to your feet to give her the space you thought she needed.

“You stay,” she said.

“Alright,” you said, but you didn’t resettle on the floor again.

As she floated through the room in an attempt to feel the way Charles had seeped into the foundations of the house, you made your way to another bookcase, pulling the tomes down. You worked in silence, not interrupting her communion with her husband.

Another thing Rory would never be able to manage.

“Do you have- oh.”

Delia glanced up. Lydia had managed to find her way into the room with the two of you, the familiar expression of anxiety and frustration on her face. You were careful as you placed the books down on the closest surface.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“I was looking for… it’s not important,” she said, already backing away again.

You stepped forward, lowering your voice as you drew closer to her.

“Lyds, come on, what is it?” you asked.

She shook her head and you sighed. Your hand rested on her shoulder, drawing even closer.

“Front pocket,” you murmured, “and I have the prescription hidden amongst my things if he throws them out again.”

Lydia seemed to relax, her eyes slipping closed as she let out a long breath. You squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” you said.

“I can’t…” Lydia raised an unsteady hand to her eyes, pressing it in.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said, “whatever it is, we can get through it.”

“He’s back,” she said, almost a whisper, “he’s in the model.”

This again. Delia was tired of hearing of the demon who had terrorised her poor family all those years ago.

“We’ll get rid of it,” you said, your hand rubbing along her arm, “it’ll be okay.”

“Why won’t he leave me alone?” she groaned, turning away from you.

The way you looked at her was like you you could understand why someone would become fixated on her. It was such a look of longing she wanted to capture it for all to see. An ache, bittersweet, yearning in every line of your face. It was such an open expression of vulnerability, the exact kind of emotion she was trying to capture in her art. And it was all there on your face, for anyone to see, except the person it was directed at.

It was art in its purest form.

“I need a moment,” Lydia said, striding out without looking back at you.

She watched as your body almost crumpled in on itself, spine curling and shoulders hunching. One deep breath then another before you straightened. You turned, blinking when you saw her standing there, watching you with pity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” you said, returning to the books.

“What are you apologising for? Emotion is the fabric of humanity and it is an artist’s job to capture it,” she said.

“Please don’t capture this,” you said, “it will only end in disaster.”

“Are you sure? It’s rather potent on you,” she said.

“I’d rather play out my heartbreak in privacy, if it’s all the same to you,” you said.

“There is no reason for heartbreak,” she said.

“I’m completely smitten with Lydia. How can it end in anything but my heartbreak?” you asked, “she’s marrying someone else tonight.”

“The curtain has yet to be drawn. Tell her. I’d much prefer you join this family than Rory,” she said.

“It’s not really about what you’d prefer though, is it?” you said, the note of resentment clear in your voice.

“She might prefer it too,” she said, “you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I know enough,” you muttered.

You lingered a little longer, finishing up your work with the books before slipping away. The front door slammed and she considered watching you from a window, to luxuriate in the pain and longing and consider how she would express it in her work. Instead, she turned back to her own project.

A nice distraction could never end the ever suffering of her grief.

iii) Lydia

There was something to be said for a wedding interrupted. The aftermath was always something to behold. Still, two weddings aborted in a single night was a record, even by Lydia’s standards. A second trip into the Neitherworld had reminded her of the joy of life, the way her blood pumped in her veins and the time she still had left on Earth. To share it with her daughter, coming out of it with the gap between them beginning to be bridged, was full circle with her teenage self returning with a new outlook on living.

By the next morning, the overwhelming feelings were crashing into her again. Delia was gone, Rory was gone, Beetlejuice was still lingering in her unconscious mind. Astrid was more opening to her attempts to talk. You were doing your best to give her the space you thought she needed. In the space of one night, her entire world had been turned on its head, and she was trying to adjust.

She didn’t want the space you were giving her. She didn’t want that one thing to change. She’d never wanted that thing to change.

You slid a plate of food in front of her, pancakes drizzled in some kind of fruit syrup. Astrid had taken hers into the living room, curling up on one of the old armchairs that would be coming with them to their home when they left. She had taken up space in her father’s study.

“You didn’t have dinner last night so don’t fight me on this,” you said.

She sighed, taking the cutlery from your hands. Your finger under her chin tilted her face towards you, seemingly taking her emotional temperature. You gave her a small smile as you let her go.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need something,” you said.

She caught your wrist, keeping you from leaving.

“Stay?” she asked.

You looked down at her, considering her request before you nodded. You sunk into one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Fiddling with your phone, she wondered if there was a reason you were avoiding looking at her. Your eyes flicked up and you looked stricken at being caught before you relaxed into a smile.

“I haven’t poisoned that, you know,” you said, nodding at her plate.

She took a bite, your eyes lingering before you nodded again. It wasn’t often she couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, usually so good at reading you. The longer you’d been in this house, the less she’d been able to. She didn’t want to think about it.

But then you looked up again and something in your face softened, fondness in every line of your face. Something in her chest broke open, delicate warmth spreading through her body. It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds, illuminating every inch of her psyche she’d kept locked up and hidden in the shadows.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, bruised and battered, and yet still beating. Your lips spread in a smile, the kind that was tired and soft and spoke to the years of intimacy you’d built with her. It was the kind of look she’d been searching for for so many years. How had she never noticed when it was right under her nose?

It had crept up on her so slowly there’d been no reason to pay attention to it. The way you were a steadying hand, keeping her upright, helping her through every moment when she was worried she’d break apart. The way she sought you out when the anxiety got too bad, her eyes scanning the room until they found you. The way you made everything easier without fanfare or an expectation of gratitude.

The way she breathed easier around you.

Blinking at you, it all crashed into her. The events of the last few days should have left her weary and broken, but this was the moment something in her snapped. This was a step too far.

To have fallen in love without even noticing was not meant to be the conclusion to two disastrous weddings, a funeral, and a trip to the Neitherworld.

She turned her attention back to the stack of pancakes you’d made her, brought to her, thinking about her needs even after everything. When was the last time someone else had done that?

“These are good,” she mumbled.

“My grandma’s recipe. She made them every Christmas morning. They taste like childhood joy to me and I figured we could all do with some of that,” you replied.

Her heart squeezed at that. It was so simple. You wanted to give her a bit of your childhood joy, to share with her something that might lift her spirits, to give her something beautiful without asking for something in return. And wasn’t that just a wonderful metaphor for her entire relationship with you.

You shifted in the chair and she realised she was staring at you. Looking away, she took another bite, the warmth of your kindness doing more for her than the actual food. There was no indication you felt even a fraction of the same thing she did. This was how you’d always been with her. You’d always been so soft with her. She hadn’t always deserved it.

“Thank you,” she said, voice quiet, staring down at her plate.

“Any time,” you said, “you know I’ve always got you.”

She was beginning to realise exactly how true that was. Later, after you’d drifted away to give her that space you seemed so sure she needed, she found herself sitting in Delia’s chair, staring out at the town spread out down below. Astrid was keeping close for the time being while you were exploring the surroundings. She lent back, looking up at the sky, hoping Delia had found her father in the Neitherworld and moved to the Great Beyond. The thought of them together for eternity had to be some comfort in the face of her own lose.

Laughter floated towards her on the breeze. Turning her attention down, she found you in your old jeans and soft t-shirt walking through the grass. Your head was tipped up and you paused, a smile stretching over your face as you sought out the sun. The long line of your neck was on full display and she felt her mouth grow dry.

“You might want to wipe the drool away.”

She startled, not having heard Astrid appear in the doorway. Her daughter seemed unimpressed with whatever she saw on her face.

“I don’t,” she began to say.

“It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain,” Astrid interrupted.

“Could you keep your voice down?” she asked.

She turned back to make sure you hadn’t heard anything her daughter had said. Your eyes were closed and your face was still tipped up to the sun but you seemed to be taking time to breath deeply. Her eyes lingered, staring at you in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to ever do before. Even before she’d realised her own feelings it had felt dangerous to look too long.

“You should just tell her,” Astrid said, leaning against the side of the house.

The tableau was hauntingly familiar, the same as just a few days ago between herself and Delia. Was this the cycle she was bound live for the rest of her life? Reliving her own relationship with Delia? There were worse things to live through, she supposed.

“I’m not doing that,” she said.

“Why not? You obviously like her. And she’s better than Rory. Even Delia thought so,” she said.

“You talked about this with Delia?” she asked, something uncomfortable sitting in her stomach.

“In passing. Shockingly, we had other things to talk about than your abysmal love life,” she said, “but we both liked her more than him.”

“I didn’t-“ she tried to say.

“Look, you should just tell her. Life is short and you never know when it’s going to end. Look at Delia. Look at Grandad. Look at Dad. No one expected them to die but they did and we were lucky to see Dad and Delia after they were gone to say goodbye properly but most people don’t get that. So tell her,” she said.

“We’re not talking about this,” she said, turning away again.

She couldn’t tell you. There was no possibility it would end well. The thought of having to go on without you, especially after everything that had just happened, made the panic rise in her. And if she told you that perhaps her feelings were more than what they seemed she was certain you’d pull away from her. She’d rather sit in the feeling with you in her life than lose you.

“I’m not enjoying it any more than you are but she makes you happy and I’m trying to be nice,” Astrid said.

“I’m not risking ruining what I have for more,” she said.

You were slow to lower your head, eyes squinting open. Raising a hand, you shaded your eyes as you looked up at the house. Your hand raised in a wave, hers automatically raising in response without thought. Astrid snorted.

“She likes you too. Just talk to her. It’s not that hard,” she said.

“Says the teenager who’s first date led to her almost giving up her life to let a dead murderer return to the world of the living,” she said.

“We’re all allowed to make mistakes. I haven’t given you shit for Rory,” she said.

“You gave me nothing but shit for Rory,” she replied, looking up at her.

“Rightfully so,” you said, coming up to them without her noticing. Her attention was severely lacking, it seemed, continually being snuck up on by the two people staying in the house with her.

“What?” she asked, on the wrong foot from the surprise.

“No offence, Lyds, but you deserve a bit of shit for Rory. He sucked and you were the only one who couldn’t see it.” You took a seat on the steps, looking up at her with one of those smiles that felt intimate and warm and fond, “sorry but you’re a total badass and you put up with that whimper of a man? You deserve some shit for that.”

“You never said anything,” she said, taken aback. You’d never been this open about your feelings on Rory.

“Yeah, because you were in love with him. It’s a dick move to do that to your friend. But now he’s your ex…” you said.

“I wish you had said something,” she said.

“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.

She paused a moment.

“I don’t know.”

You gave her an indulgent smile, your chin tipping down as you looked up at her from under your lashes. Her heart skipped a beat. She was no romantic but there was no other way to describe the feeling in her chest.

“Am I allowed to be critical of him now?” you asked, voice softening, “if you’re not okay with it I’ll stop.”

“You can,” she said.

“Okay.” Your shoulders relaxed, “because he was awful. You’ve always been too good for him.”

“Who would you pick for me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Someone kind,” you replied.

Such a simple answer and yet it felt like a shock to her system. Could it really be that simple? You were kind. So maybe her heart was on to something already.

“Do you know someone?” she asked.

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of finding someone yourself,” she said, “after all, you found me.”

“I did,” she said.

She braced for some kind of comment from Astrid, caring wrapped in sarcasm to get her to say more. But when she looked around, her daughter was gone from where she’d been, slipping away in silence. Something about you seemed to ruin her perceptive abilities. You distracted her from the rest of the world.

You stood and she had the sudden fear that you’d heard more than she’d intended in those two words and were about to leave her alone. Instead, you lent against the railing beside her, fingers plucking the sunglasses off her face and dropping them onto your own. Her heart stuttered and she froze.

“If you had to pick someone, who would they be?” you asked, and she had the desperate wish to see your eyes.

“Someone I’m safe with,” she replied, “someone I trust.”

“That seems like the bare minimum in a relationship,” you said, but you weren’t smiling anymore.

“Clearly I’m not good at finding that,” she said.

“Lyds,” you sighed, pushing the sunglasses to the top of your head, keeping your hair out of your face, “I hope you already have those things. With me.”

“I do,” she rushed to say, that familiar anxiety growing.

“So you’re not bad at finding it,” you said.

“Yes but you…” She wasn’t sure she could finish that thought.

“I…?” you prompted.

“You wouldn’t be interested in being with me like that,” she eventually said.

“I wouldn’t?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Would you?” She couldn’t look at you as she asked.

“I suppose that would depend,” you replied.

Her eyes darted back up to you. The way you were looking at her was so gentle, like she was something special, something wonderful, something you couldn’t believe existed.

“On what?” she asked.

“On if it was something you were interested in,” you said.

“And if I was?” she asked.

“Then I would be very interested in you like that. In fact, it’s possible I’ve been interested in you like that for a while now but thought there was no chance you’d be okay with that,” you said.

Lydia stood from the chair, stepping into your personal space. You fidgeted until she reached out, hands laying over yours to still them. Your expression was so open, so vulnerable and all she could think about was how special it was to be given permission to see this side of you. Her fingers brushed over the pulse in your neck, feeling it jump under her touch. Your breath hitched and you swayed towards her. When your teeth sunk into your lower lip, her gaze was drawn to it, heat seeping through her veins.

“Then maybe you should know I’m thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” she whispered.

iv) You

Reader, you kissed her.

[sequinsmile-x]

A Lot of Lonely Places

She used to be good at being alone. 

-x-

Hi friends,

Truly could not tell you where this came from. Opened my laptop, opened google docs and started writing and here we are.

I hope you enjoy it, and as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She used to be good at being alone. 

She used to pride herself on it. Full of false bravado about how she excelled in her own company that was borne out of necessity, a side effect of her mother’s job that had left her with no other choice. She was good at being alone and she enjoyed it. She’d painted a lonely picture as a kid, something that had followed her into her teenage years and early adulthood. It was only in college, when she spent four years in one place - the longest she ever had - that she started to make stronger connections. Threads of convenience and coincidence that tied her and her friends together during that time, holding them close until drunken promises before graduation that they’d always have each other turned out to be lies. They’d drifted apart, seeing each other only at reunions and organised events, and she knew she wasn’t blameless. She hadn’t been great at keeping in contact, not entirely used to having people to stay in contact with. It was something that slipped away entirely when she’d joined Interpol, her work not something that allowed the connections she had once treasured. 

Even though she’d barely spent time alone when she was eventually with Ian, something he ensured by always having people around her, she’d felt lonely. At first, it had been drowned by the ever-present fear she’d be caught. That he’d see through her practised lies and kill her before she could call for backup. As that faded, as time made it clear he’d fallen for her charm and the skills she’d honed at a young age, the loneliness took over. The strange desire to hear someone call her by her actual name one that never quite went away. 

Returning to her actual life was overwhelming. She was suddenly surrounded by people who knew who she really was. Every single one of them telling her she’d done an excellent job before it was all classified, anything she’d done a secret to anyone who didn’t already know. It made the loneliness bone-deep, so much a part of her she wasn’t sure she’d ever be without it, but it also made it easier to pretend it never happened. To file it away into one of the boxes in her head, the lid of it liable to slip away whenever she heard an Irish accent or smelt expensive whisky and cigar smoke. 

When she joined the BAU, her sense of self pieced back together after her time as Lauren Reynolds, and a fake background typed out on a piece of paper, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. A small part of her hoped she would make friends, something that felt childish and misplaced after everything she’d seen and done, and even that had been dashed by some of the team's initial reaction to her. The mistrust she’d since learnt was a defence mechanism, particularly on Aaron’s part, more painful than she cared to admit even to herself. 

She never expected that she’d find a family, that she’d find people who felt like home. People she would, and eventually did, die for. It made the loneliness in Paris even sharper. Nights that would have once been spent drinking with JJ and Penelope, or watching kid's movies with Aaron and Jack, long and painful as she lived under a name they did not know. She treated the loneliness like a penance, something she deserved for the lies that had led her there, the choices she could never regret but wished hadn’t happened. She got used to it again. The loneliness. The silence that came with it.  She got used to it but every now and again it would weigh heavily on her chest, crushing it inwards until it became unbearable. Gasping sobs would steal the air from her lungs until she’d eventually cry herself to sleep, ready to be tortured by dreams of everything she had lost. 

When she came home, unsteady and unsure of her place in the life she’d built herself, she was overwhelmed again. Everyone’s desire to see her, to spend time with her they thought they’d never get again, almost too much to take. She’d sought out time on her own, would issue white lies that tasted bitter as she told her friends she was tired or had other plans just so she could sit on her couch alone, the television and radio off, the silence a comforting blanket as she tried to learn to be herself again. 

As time went on, she found her footing. Found her new place in her new life, the broken pieces of her old one at her feet no longer a tripping hazard, but the very thing she used as a foundation for what she had now. 

Loneliness became a thing of her past, something she knew she could thank Aaron, and by extension Jack, for. The day after their conversation on the jet, when she kept her side of the deal and admitted she was having a bad day, Aaron showed up at her apartment. He was casually dressed, or as casual as she’d ever seen him at the time in jeans and a polo shirt, and he said he was there to help her unpack. To this day, she had no idea how he knew she hadn’t unpacked, how he knew that her meagre belongings that hadn’t been sold on after she died were still in boxes. She’d let him in, too tired to argue with him, and she’d let him help without argument - something she now knew was a sign of just how much she trusted him even when she wasn’t sure she could trust herself. He’d turned her mood around that day, had arrived to her on the edge of a panic attack and left her laughing, her smile shining with adoration as he dryly told her about something Dave had done whilst she was away. 

He’d come back the following weekend, with Jack and breakfast from their favourite diner in tow, matching smiles on their faces as they told her they were there to cheer her up, and it had been a tradition ever since. Something that followed her and Aaron from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and now husband and wife. 

She was never alone now and if she ever was, she was terrible at it. On the rare occasion she was in the house alone she’d struggle. She was used to Aaron’s laugh, or the low timbre of his voice that would travel even through closed doors. She was used to Jack’s excited chatter, or the sound of his video games or cartoons he loved. When it was just her, it was too quiet, something she’d try and counteract by turning on the television or simply calling her husband and asking him when he’d be home. She’d feel nothing short of absurd for it, and she knew a past version of herself would mock her for it, but she loved having him near. Loved the reassurance of his presence, and the only thing that stopped her from chastising herself for it was that she knew Aaron was the same. 

The team made fun of them for it. They’d gently tease them for how they would gravitate towards each other, never able to be too far away as if they felt unsteady if they were. In the same breath as they made fun of them their friends would tell them they were happy for them, that they both deserved what they had now.

___

She sighs contentedly as she wakes up, stretching her limbs as she rolls onto her back, a yawn escaping her as she reaches for her husband's side of the bed. She furrows her brows when she finds it empty, the sheets cold to the touch, and she sits up, her eyes flicking to the also empty bassinet on her side of the bed. A quick glance at the alarm clock, and the lack of daylight streaming in through the curtains, let her know it’s 3.35 am, that she’s likely been pulled from sleep by the cold emptiness of her bed as well as the dull ache starting to build in her breasts. 

Even though she knows that they’re safe, that Aaron will have taken their little girl downstairs to give her some more rare and precious sleep, she’s still met with momentary panic. It greets her like an old friend as it wraps its hand around her throat, stealing the breath from her lungs before she can reason with herself, memories of when she was alone and being hunted by the man who had killed her briefly overwhelming. She shakes her head and blows out a slow breath and she shoves the covers off her as she climbs out of bed. 

“Get it together, Emily,” she mumbles to herself, grabbing Aaron’s robe from the back of the bedroom door as she passes it, wrapping it around herself to warn off the slight chill in the air. 

She checks in on Jack on the way past, takes a moment to rearrange his bedding around him and kisses his forehead before she sneaks back out of his room, not wanting to wake him on a night when he’d somehow slept through his baby sister’s cries. She finds Aaron and the baby exactly where she knew she would, snuggled up on the couch together with only the light of a single lamp in the corner of the room illuminating them. She can’t help but smile as she walks into the living room, her chest aching with love at the sight of her little girl fast asleep on Aaron’s chest, her cheek squashed against his t-shirt and a line of drool visible even in the low light. 

“Can I join this party, or is it invite only?” She asks, careful to stay quiet, to not startle him or wake up their daughter. 

Aaron turns to look at her, his smile soft and sleepy, and he removes one hand from Violet’s back to tap the couch next to him, “You’re always invited,” he replies, just as quietly as he presses a kiss to the dark hair on the newborn’s head, “Right, Vi? Mommy can always join us.” 

Emily crosses the room and sits next to him, immediately snuggling into his side, sneaking under the blanket he had draped over his lap. She rests her head on his shoulder and reaches out to run her knuckles up and down Violet’s soft cheek. “Is she okay? You could have woken me up.” 

“She’s fine,” he says, turning his head to kiss her temple, smiling when she tilts her head to capture it, his lips slightly chapped against hers, “She was fussing, but I think she just wanted to cuddle,” he smiles as he pulls back, “Now I may lack the facilities to feed her, but I’ve got it on good authority I give amazing hugs,” his smile gets wider as she lovingly rolls her eyes, “So I thought I’d let you rest until she did need feeding.” 

Emily hums gratefully, kissing the corner of his mouth before she rests her temple against his cheek, unable to tear her gaze away from the sleeping baby, “Daddy really does give the best hugs, sweet girl,” she says, her words disappearing into a laugh as more drool lands on Aaron’s t-shirt, “Although, I used to be the only girl allowed to drool on him,” she strokes her daughter’s head, following the swirl of dark hair. It was the very first part of her that Emily had touched, encouraged to reach between her legs by her doctor and feel the top of her little girl’s head when labour was starting to feel like it was too much, “I guess I can share him with you though.” 

Aaron chuckles and wraps his arm around her, tugging her closer as he securely holds Violet close with one arm, “Did we wake you?”

Emily shakes her head, “No, I think it was because the bed was empty,” she mumbles, reaching for his hand and unhooking herself from under his arm so she can hug it to her chest, his hand sandwiched between both of hers as she tucks them under her chin, “I’m not good at sleeping alone anymore. You ruined me.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “I’m…sorry,” he says, his tone teasing and she squeezes his hand tighter. 

“As you should be,” she replies dryly, feeling sleepiness take over, the warmth of him and the sound of Violet’s breathing slowly pulling her under, “There’s only one way to make up for it.”

He kisses the top of her head and then hides his smile in her hairline, “Oh yeah, what’s that then?” 

“Sleeping next to me forever.” 

He chuckles “You drive a hard bargain, but I’m sure I can manage that,” he says, and she leans into him, his voice something that calmed her, something that pulled her in, “You should get some sleep, sweetheart.” 

She grumbles, trying to fight him on it even though it was a losing battle, “But you’ll be trapped here with both of us sleeping on you.” 

“There are much worse places to be trapped, Em,” he assures her, his words murmured against her forehead, “And Vi will wake us up soon anyway,” he kisses her forehead, “Get some sleep, and I’ll be here for you both.” 

She hums, no longer able to fight it, exhaustion and the comfort of him washing over her, “Love you.” 

The last thing she hears before she falls asleep is his reply, his I love you too whispered against her skin, and she knows that not only would she never be good at being alone again, but that she’d never have to be. 

[permanentreverie]

if nobody’s got me i know a large vanilla latte got me can i get an amen

[immortaljai]

Good Talk.

1.5k Words, Smut, dirty talk, 3some, asshole behavior, porn w plot.

It was a weird family but it was your family. The amount of times the X-men tried to recruit you was sickening, Wade always in your ear about unicorns and his “Golden babys” all that you were used to. You never expected Wade to come home after his disappearance let alone with someone who seems to hate everyone. Logan was snarky, a drunk, and overall an asshole from the moment you met him.

He had this “lone wolf” batman shit going on with him, it confused you seeing Wade and him interact let along him living with you guys. You tried to avoid him as best as you could getting cursed at less then Wade but it irritated you how he hated you when you did nothing primarily to Logan other than have your tomfoolery jokes with Wade.

You really should have noticed the heated gazes, the close proximity and the borderline degrading words, Logan wanted nothing to do with you for a reason. With Wade it was different he was always..touchy always close especially when he was hurt one smaller cut off healing arm waving at Logan and one hand on your waist a bit close to your bottom as you faced him cleaning the blood off his face. If only you looked behind you to see the irritated flustered mess Logan was, truly explains why Wade laughed louder.

You’re a clueless thing indeed, how could you not have noticed Logans brushing up against you as you argue about how onions should be cut “You know what fork hands maybe if you pulled weight around here and cooked your own fucking meals you wouldnt have so much to complain about” the chopping board making loud noises as you slides irritatedly Wade was long gone getting the “Powdered donuts” for Blind Al so he really had no idea what was going down Al decided long before to leave the apartment.

“You have knifes for hands use them” you snarkily said with an eyeroll “You got a fuckin’ smart mouth you better watch it” he growled in your ear still hovering, he snatched the knife out of your hand standing behind you cutting the onions himself “Ya’ see? Maybe if you didnt run your fuckin’ mouth so much you’d learn something” that made your anger flare quickly exhaling through your nose “Maybe if you didnt fuck up what you had, you wouldnt be here and id be asshole babysitting free” the kitchen went silent as the slicing ceased you could hear him breathing lightly behind you. The knife clatted on the cutting board as he leaned down his nose touching your shoulder, his breathing on your lower back “Ya wanna repeat that?” 

You nearly shat yourself as you stuttered out or tried to stutter out an apology, however that was cut short due to Wade coming through the door “MARVEL JESUS IS BACK” you never thought you'd be so happy to hear that name quickly and swiftly moving from Logans trapped arms and running to the door “Heeeey red” you said side smile on your face as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding “Hi sweet face, where is Whiskey dick” a grunt came from behind you knowing it was logan you paid no mind to him, as Wades eyes widen “Theses my muscle man oh you look angry i think my bone is rising” you rolled your eyes a smirk on your face as you turned to look at logan “M’ not pissed, not in the slightest” he said gruffly a beer in his hands leaning on the doorway his heated gaze on you.

Wade's eyes widened as he raised his non-existent eyebrows “Ohhh what happened while i was gone- clothes are still on” that made you scoff lightly folding your arms as you walked away from the kitchen “Dinners nearly ready” Logan said staring at Wade as you disappeared. Wade smirked walking up to Logan quite closely “So..what happened between you and sweet cheeks” Logan looked at Wade with slight uninterest “She’s got a mouth” “That can be used properly” Wade replied quickly with a smirk “Your disgusting” Logan said pinching his nose “And yet here you are a boner cause of an attitude- you pervert” 

Dinner was as usual loud, friends over as if it was a celebration, Logan in the corner watching keeping a close eye on his self proclaimed daughter a drink in hand as usual, he manspread slightly catching your gaze landing on his lap before away again, his eyes however were already on you, maybe it was the buzz, maybe it was his hormones but you looked..nice..better then nice even. Throughout the night he moved closer to you, from the chair, then next to Laura, then in the end you were in the middle of him and Wade.

Wade's arm around your waist from the moment he closed in, his eyes moving from the cleavage your shirt gave as he talked to you, his eyes taking in you completely licking his lower lip, he noticed Logan moving in and he smirked to himself. “Go get my board game for me sweet cheeks” Wade whispered to you winking to Logan, he gave Wade a blank face before taking a long swig of his drink.

You entered his room, it was cluttered as you huffed looking through his things, tossing things behind you “Where the fu-'' your sentence  was cut short as you were pushed and pinned agaist the bed a heavyweight pushed against your back before a hand came to cover your mouth “Smart mouth..” Logan whispered in your ear you blushed deeply at the bulge pressed against you and the husky voice behind you “M’ gonna need you to listen to me, there's about 6 people in the house..i'm gonna need you to be quiet” you didn't need to be told twice nodding your head slowly.

That was all he needed his hands moving up your pants pulling them down slightly his fingers reading you through your underwear “L-at that, soaked been thinking bout this?” you were pre occupied your face pressed into the sheets whimpers coming from you, that made him chuckle his pants swiftly being pulled down as his tip nudged between your core and your underwear making him sigh deeply before pulling back your slick being pulled with each drag of his hips “This- jus’ gonna have to do for now” he said fucking your thighs, his hand moving to grab your throat to lift your head, the door opened making your eyes widen as you looked back seeing Wade. 

“Fuckin knew it- you guys left me out” he frowned as he started removing his pants quickly “Dumbass- you gave me the hint” Logan groaned into your ear his pace not slowing, his tip brushing your clit perfectly with each drag of his hips, your ass jiggling each time. Wade smirked as he sat in front of you his legs opening “Hi sweet cheeks- im sorry to ask this..given your state but-” he grabbed your hair using your open mouth as a fleshlight as he sighed in content “Yeah..thats better” Wade was bigger then any male you sucked off and it didnt help thst Logan wasnt letting up, you quickly found a rhythm from sucking Wade using your hand to stroke what couldnt fit sucking his tip harshly making his eyes roll back “F-fuck yea- like a lolipop sweet face” his head thrown back as he softly rocked his hips in your mouth, Logan hand reaching up to grab his balls “There you go smart mouth, make the idiot cum” he said whispering in your ear speeding up his precum coating your cunt. Your eyes rolling back as you tried your best to deep throat Wade while stroking his cock “Ohh-Ohhh yea im about to paint the entire room white like marble-” Wades eyes squeezed shut as he held your head down moving it once, twice, three times before blowing his load down your throat and falling back his chest heaving as you swallowed it all licking his tip clean. 

Behind you, you heard a snicker as your face was pushed down into the pillow and a dick was inserted into you Logans pace started off uncaring as he used you as if you were a doll slamming you up and down as his hand rapidly rubbed at your bud “Yea- I don't see you talking now do I?” he chuckled at your muffled moans crudely his chest making contact with your back as he groaned “Fuck..cmon cum doll, cum for your asshole” he whispered in your ear making your mouth fall open as you screamed in the pillow your vision going white as you painted his cock white, triggering his own orgasm as he stuffed you full thrusting a few more times before pulling out pulling your underwear up making sure it all stayed in. Wade’s eyes crinkled into a smile seeing your fucked out face “We gotta get up doll- they gonna start speculating” however you could barely hear let along talk so you nodded dumbly 

That made them chuckle lightly as they stood up Logan stuffing his cock into his pants as Wade put back on his pants “Guess we tell them she fell asleep?” Wade asked “I don’t give a shit” Logan said walking out with a smirk leaving you in your slutted out state 

“Good night sweet cheeks” 

Still feral thanks for cumming.

[bpmiranda]

DBF Logan is awaking something within me lol need something like you having to stay with Mr. Logan and he goes feral hearing you in the shower thinking he's not home yet 😮‍💨 🫠

Be My Guest (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: neighbor!logan, age gap, 18+ f!reader, voyeurism?, shower sex, pulling out

“Thanks again, pal. We really appreciate it.” Your dad said over speakerphone to Logan.

While your parents were away on an anniversary trip, the water and lights in your house had gone out and you didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, your mom had the wonderful idea of calling dad’s friend Mr. Logan from down the street to ask if he wouldn’t mind you spending the night so you can finish your paper due tomorrow. The water and electric companies would be called in the morning and they assured you it would only be one night, so no harm, right?

“No problem, brother. She’s in good hands.” Logan says with a wink that makes you smile shyly.

That’s what you thought.

Mr. Logan was incredibly attractive to be your father’s age. It gave you butterflies when he smiled at you and greeted you with ‘sweetheart’ while he was over helping your dad with some backyard project. You were a flustered, smiling mess when you’d hand him a glass of lemonade your mom sent you out with, watching him down the whole glass right there in front of you. Arms glistening from the sweat and bulging out of his tank top, his beard giving him a rough look that you came to learn you liked in a man. You knew it wasn’t appropriate to think of him in this way, but you couldn’t help yourself.

And tonight it was not any easier to keep those thoughts at bay as he fed you and doted on you now that you were in his home. He was very fatherly in his own way and you wondered why he never had children of his own. What woman wouldn’t want to spend her life with him? “Thanks, Mr. Logan,” You smile kindly as he sets your dinner plate in front of you. “I appreciate you letting me spend the night.”

“It’s my pleasure,” He smiles at you, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners and you feel your heart flutter. “What’s this big project on?” He asks as he sits across from you.

As you’re yapping about your schoolwork, all Logan can think of is how nicely you fill out that top. How your breasts move with every animated hand gesture and how your lips are so full he just knows they would look so pretty wrapped around his cock. It’s hard to concentrate on a word you’re saying and by the time he tunes back in he realizes you’ve finished eating and he’s barely started. “Would you mind if I went ahead and took a shower?” You ask timidly and he nods, wiping his hands and mouth with the table napkin before he shows you where the bathroom is and how to work the knobs.

“I’m going to run out to the store for some cigars, alright, sweetheart?” Logan says as he leaves you in the guest room and you nod, giving him a thankful smile as you’re gathering your toiletries.

The trip to store cooled him off and he tried to linger so that you’d have enough time to finish up. When he came back to his house, however, he could still hear the shower and he groaned softly to himself, about to sit in the backyard to smoke until he heard something else.

“L-Logan,”

It was you. You were pressed against the shower tile facing the shower head, one hand pressed against your mouth while the other was tucked between your thighs. Two fingers working the wet, small bud at the crest of your labia. Through the fruity shower products, Logan could smell your arousal as he stood outside the bathroom door. It was a scent unlike any he had ever smelled and he knew he simply had to get a taste or he’d go mad with hunger.

“Oh, shit,” You mewled quietly, biting your index finger as you got close and then you heard the bathroom door push open. A small gasp left your lips as you could see his tall stature approach you and he pulled the shower curtain back making your face grow furiously hot with embarrassment as his eyes scanned over your body in a predatory manner. “M - Mr. Logan!” You breathed out, crossing your arms and shielding your breasts with your hands.

“C’mon now, sweetheart,” He smirked as he stepped into the shower with you, holding your hips with his large hands and pressing you into the wall. His grey shirt was darkening with the water hitting his back, but he seemed to be only focused on you. “You can call me Logan,” He murmured as his nose nuzzled yours, inhaling your scent and growling as he realized you were far more aroused now. “Just like you were doing.”

His lips pressed into yours and you moaned softly against this mouth, dropping your hands and wrapping them around his neck as he lifted you up. Your wet, bare legs wrapped around his waist and you gasped as the hard, damp bulge of his jeans pressed into your core. “Mm, Logan,” You moaned as he pinned you to the wall so he could rub his cock against your pussy. “Please, fuck me.” You groaned into his kiss, your hands running through his beard as you kissed him hungrily.

“Yeah?” Logan asked, keeping one arm around you and undoing his belt with the other, pulling it out of the loops and tossing it on the bathroom floor. “Want this old man to fuck your little pussy?” You whine as you nod eagerly, using his shoulders to lift yourself up as he lines his cock to your drenched cunt.

“Ah!” You gasp, your eyes shutting tightly as you cry while sinking onto his thick length. Your body trembles in his arms as they slip underneath your thighs to hold you by your ass and he fucks you roughly down onto his cock which is slick with water and your juices. You are unable to control anything in this position except for how tightly you hold onto him, how weakly you kiss him as he fucks you stupid on his shaft. “Mm! Hm, oh, fuck, Logan! I’m gonna - gonna cum-m-m!” You cry out, shaking violently as he merely grunts and groans, eyes fixed on your pretty little face screwed up with pain and pleasure.

Logan growls as your pussy clenches tightly around him and you scream out his name again as your orgasm hits you like a truck. “Goddamn,” He hissed, grunting as he shuts the water off behind him and leans back against the wall so that you are more or less sitting on his pelvis. Your mouth falls open as he forces you to bounce on his throbbing cock, his grip painfully tight on your waist while you claw at his chest. “You look so damn pretty, sweetheart.” He groans, your wet hair falling over your shoulders, sticking to your bouncing tits as droplets fall on him. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Not inside!” You squeak and he quickly lifts you up, sitting you on his abdomen as he ejaculates onto the shower floor with a shudder coursing through his body, vibrating underneath you as you’re breathing heavily from the sight of him drenched in his clothes, too desperate to fuck you to have undressed first.

Logan straightens up and sets you down outside the shower so you can grab your towel and he pulls his soaked shirt off. “Thanks.” He winks as you hand him a towel and he pushes his pants off.

“Did we get clean or dirty?” You ask with a bashful grin and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Wanna take a proper shower?” He asks, one hand holding the towel over his cock as he leans an arm against the shower wall, looking at you with a casual smile. You nod your head and drop the towel. “Hop in then, sweetheart.”

I, myself, now require a shower as well🙃

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.” 

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting. 

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips. 

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet  you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment. 

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.” 

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[chososlilprincess]

pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.

You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,

You.

it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.

But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”

And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.

When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.

“hello?”

“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,

“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,

“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.

He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.

He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-

oh. fuck.

Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…

a pair of your used panties.

he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.

he picks them up.

He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.

what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.

He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,

he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.

And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.

how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?

He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.

he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader

a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3

cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.

If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.

Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.

It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.

Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.

“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”

If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.

That had been twenty minutes ago.

It was becoming torturous.

Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.

Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.

“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.

Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”

“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”

She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”

She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.

“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”

Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.

“Yeah.” She whispered.

Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”

He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.

Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.

Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”

Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.

It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.

She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.

“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”

It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.

“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”

She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.

“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”

She nodded again.

“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”

She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.

[gojoest]

BEDTIME STORY (about love) — gojo satoru

in which satoru tells his daughter the story of how you met. those of you who’ve read this already know, but your now 4-year-old daughter is yet to hear it

girl dad satoru, father-daughter time, she/her pronouns used for reader, wc: 1k, not proofread, just a silly little thing

“papa”

“yes, my life?”

“how did you and mama meet?”

“oh my, i never told you the story?”

“no, papa. you didn’t”

“well—"

one thing gojo satoru never fails to do, no matter how busy his schedule, is reading bedtime stories to his 4-year-old daughter. even when he’s swamped with missions, he would make sure he is at home by the time his daughter had to sleep — after tucking her in, he would sit beside her with a book in hand and read her a story until she’s fast asleep.

but tonight, your daughter asked for a different kind of story — the origin of your love, how the two of you met — and truth be told, satoru was more than excited to talk about it (as he always is whenever the topic in question involved you).

his eyes glowing with the same old dreamy glint anytime your name was mentioned, he puts the book on the nightstand and makes himself comfortable next to his little one in bed. slightly scooching her over so he could sit with his back leaning against the headboard, he cradles her in his arms and takes a deep breath before starting.

“it all happened on my birthday, 7 years ago”

“december 7th!”, your daughter excitedly points out.

satoru chuckles, his chest swelling with joy that his little daughter remembers his birthday. “that’s right, my life. your mother came into my life like a birthday present”, his lips curl into a gentle smile as he reminisces about the night that changed his entire life.

“was mama invited to your birthday?”

“no, but we just happened to be in the same restaurant that night. while i was celebrating with friends, she was there, on another table, with her coworkers”

your daughter hums, “i see”

“she was so beautiful, i noticed her the moment she walked in. and i couldn’t take my eyes off her for the rest of the night. i knew i had to go and talk to her before she left. something in me knew she was the one, you know?”

your little one tilts her head up to look at satoru, eyes curiously blinking, “but how did you know, papa?”

“my heart whispered it to me, beating relentlessly the entire time. it was like this unknown force was pulling me towards your mom and the whole time i was trying to come up with a plan, an excuse even, to go talk to her without coming off as a weirdo”

“and did you succeed?”

“well, by the looks of it—”, he points at her and gently boops her nose, “i did”

she chuckles sweetly, “no, papa—i mean did you manage to not be a weirdo?”

“hmm, i’ll let you decide on that one. so pay attention, okay?”, to which she silently nods. his hand rubs the top of her head softly before continuing.

“you see, i couldn’t think of anything but nor could i wait any longer. i decided i’d just go and say hi. so i stood up and made my way towards her table. i had to know her as soon as possible, because every second of inaction felt like it was taking away from my future with her. any second was precious, you know? if i could be with her sooner, be it even a planck time earlier, i had to take it — as it would only add up to the time spent with her”

“what is planck time, papa?”, your daughter cuts him off.

“it’s theoretically considered to be the shortest measurable time”

“is it less than a second?”

“waaaaay less”

“woah, papa you were down bad for mama”, your daughter gasps in amusement.

an audible laugh breaks through satoru’s lips, “yea, i was. and i still am”

“and what happened when you went over?”

“i said hi but she wasn’t having it at all, didn’t even bat me an eye. tried to chase me off before i was able to introduce myself. but i was already determined to make her mine, i knew it deep down that she was my person. so i forced my way and introduced myself”

“papa you’re a stubborn one”

“yea, but your mother turned out to be even more stubborn. she dodged all my attempts at her. so, i had to make it very clear to her, let her know that the man standing before her was the one to be her boyfriend, then her husband, and then the father of her children — therefore, in order for all this to work, i asked for her number”

“you really said all that?” — satoru nods to her question affirmatively. “papa, that’s so bold of you, honestly”, another gasp leaves your 4-year-old’s mouth. “and then?”

“and then she got mad at me, thought i was playing around with her”, satoru chuckles, brushing a hand across his face at the memory, closing his eyes to replay that very scene in his mind. your reaction is still pretty vivid to him, how your eyes grew wide in disbelief after what he had just told you...

i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children — and you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children…

…and then how you narrowed your eyes and gave him a good lecture.

is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?

“to be honest, i was slightly panicking internally — this was my best move, you know? and it was failing. but luckily, your uncle suguru came to my aid. he convinced your mom to give me a chance before blatantly turning me down. and she did — i got her number by the end of the night”, a soft smile painted on his lips again. “look at us now — wasn’t i right about all that?”

“papa, you’re a hopeless romantic”

“you bet i am”, he smugly confirms.

“…and a bit of a weirdo”, she cackles quietly.

“oi”, satoru furrows his brows. his hand softly tickles the side of her, incurring a loud laugh on her end. “shhh, time to sleep now or else mama will scold me for keeping you up past your bedtime”

“but, papa — you did well, being a weirdo paid off”

“yea, it really did — it gave me a home and a family”, his eyes soften observing the treasure in his arms.

[be4chywritez]

cat-sitter | max verstappen

max verstappen x roommate!reader

You’re Max’s cat sitter but maybe you were than that.

prompt: Fixing each other’s clothes (+ saying “you look good.”)

beachy’s masterlist🐚

request are open!

Max was always on the move, his busy schedule keeping him away from home more often than not. Jimmy and Sassy, were his babies, but their care became difficult with his constant travel. After a series of unreliable pet sitters, Max decided to find a live-in cat sitter, someone who could provide consistent care and companionship for his beloved kitties.

You, an animal lover with loads pet care experience, stumbled upon Max’s ad. The idea of living in a luxurious apartment while taking care of two adorable cats was too good to pass up, especially given the high cost of living in Monaco. After a successful interview and trial period, you settled in.

Jimmy and Sassy quickly bonded with you. Your affectionate nature filling the apartment with warmth. Over time, You and Max developed a close friendship, sharing stories and experiences from different worlds. The arrangement was perfect, and you were more than just a cat-sitter —you were what Max considering a close friend and maybe he developed a crush on you, but you didn’t know that.

- ✰ -

Max was getting ready for an important gala. The apartment was a mess multiple dress shirts and shoes thrown around, you lounged comfortably in your comfy clothes, enjoying watching TV with Jimmy and Sassy. Max emerged from his room, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt, his cheeks flushed from anger, you assumed.

“You look like you could use some help,” you teased, noticing his frustration.

He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, these buttons are impossible.”

You walked over and began to button his shirt, your fingers moving deftly over the fabric. Max watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks,” he said as you finished, adjusting his collar.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You look good,” you muttered quietly, almost to yourself, as your hands smoothed out the chest of his shirt.

Max’s gaze softened, his expression warm. “You look good too,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

For a moment, you both stood there, the air between you thick with tension. Your heart raced, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. Both of you jumping apart hearing Sassy yowl, you smile softly.

“I should let you finish getting ready and go check on them,” you said, turning to walk away.

Max watched you, disappointment in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the gala? It could be fun.”

You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No, thanks. You go have fun.”

As you walked away, you could feel Max’s eyes on you. He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. The gala was a prestigious event, but the thought of going without you felt strangely hollow.

You sat down looking at Sassy and Jimmy who know stare at you, bored looks on their faces, “cockblockers,” you mutter turing back to your show.

Max came out, clearing his throat you and the cats turn around, Sassy scans him up and down then goes back to sleeping in your lap.

“So how do I look?” he asks, messing with his watch you scan him swallowing deeply, “Uh you look good, you’re going to have women all over you.” you say giving him a smile, his eyes light up you both stand their looking at each other before his phone rings, “it’s Yazmin,” he says, your heart drops to your ass.

Yazmin was a girl Max went on a few dates with but they never made it official, “She’s going by to the gala too?” you ask trying not to sound jealous.

“Uh yeah, great PR y’know.” he chuckles awkwardly, your smiles fades, but you nod.

“You should get going Max, traffic is going to be bad.” you say monotonely facing the TV.

“Right, you sure you’re good here?” he asks you only give him a nod, he sighs giving one last glance before closing the door behind him.

Max attended the gala, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mingled with the who’s who of the racing world, smiling for the cameras and making small talk. Yazmin clung to his arm, her laughter loud and her comments superficial.

“Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” Yazmin whispered to Max, pointing discreetly at a woman across the room. “quite hideous, don’t you think?”

Max forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

As the night went on, Yazmin’s became more apparent. She wrinkled her nose at a charity auction for an animal shelter. “Ugh, why would anyone waste money on stray animals?”

Max winced, thinking of you and your gentle way with Jimmy and Sassy. He excused himself and checked his phone, hoping for a message from you. There was nothing. Yazmin noticed his distraction.

“Max, are you even listening to me?” she snapped.

“Sorry, Yaz. I just… I need some air,” he said, stepping outside to clear his head.

Back at the apartment, you tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept replaying the earlier moment with Max. The way he looked at you, his soft compliment, and the unexpected tension between you left you feeling confused. Jimmy and Sassy sensed your unease and cuddled closer, their purring a soothing comfort.

You wondered how Max was doing at the gala. A part of you regretted not going, but the idea of seeing him with Yazmin had been too much to bear. You sighed, deciding to make the most of the quiet evening.

The gala finally ended, and Max found himself eager to leave. He looked around for Yazmin and was met with the sight of her sucking faces with a boy way younger than her. Upon closer look, he realized the boy was an F2 driver. Max grimaced but said his goodbyes and made his way back to the apartment, feeling a sense of relief as he stepped through the door.

The quietness of the place felt like a balm to his soul. Jimmy greeted him with sleepy purrs, his warm body weaving around his legs.

Max looked around, hoping to see you. He found you in the living room, the TV still on, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly, feeling a surge of affection. You looked peaceful, one hand resting on Sassy, who was curled up beside you.

He approached quietly, not wanting to wake you, but Jimmy beat him to it, meowing loudly. You stirred, blinking up at Max with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “How was the gala?”

Max shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. “It was okay. Missed you there, though.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. “I didn’t think it was my kind of scene.”

Max nodded, understanding. “I get it. But it would have been more fun with you there.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by a warmth. Max took a seat beside you, his proximity sending a flutter through your stomach.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at you, his gaze intense. “When you said I looked good. It meant a lot coming from you.”

You smiled shyly. “Well, you did. You do.”

Max reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “And you look good too. You always do.”

The air between you thickened again, but this time, it felt different—more certain, more intimate. Max leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Max,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. Max responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. The kiss quickly grew more intense, and you found yourself laying back on the couch, Max’s body hovering over yours.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The feel of his weight on you, the taste of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. You stared up at Max, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What about Yazmin?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Max smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “She found an F2 driver.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Max brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“You sure you don’t want to come to the next gala?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled up at him. “I’ll go with you anywhere.”

He grinned, leaning down to peck your lips, both of you smiling softly at each other.

“Good to know.” he murmured, nestling himself into your neck.