#back and settled after the holiday weekend with my family

[magnifiico]

We have this king named Magnifico ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* [. . .] with lightning for hands and eyes that can glow—

No, no, no, I’m totally kidding! unless ???

please like/reblog if you're interested in interacting with king magnifico of disney's wish. heavily headcanon-based, spoilers present but tagged accordingly. (see my rules page for further information)

canon tied in with my remarkable queen amaya, written by casi (´⌣`ʃƪ)

[lipglossanon]

Red Flags and Long Nights

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x daughter fem!reader (one shot)

hello hello 👋 this is the fic written for the milestone celebration poll winner (real dad taking accidental viagra); big big thanks to all of you who have gotten me here!! 💜 💜 I’m so thankful everyday that you guys choose to read/like/share/interact with my fics and just me in general! 🥰 so without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one shot!!!

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, INCEST, dead dove content, dad/daughter incest, groping, slight cnc, dirty talk, breast play, oral (m receiving), kissing, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread 😅 some of it was written while sleepy so hopefully it makes sense haha

title from Red Flags and Long Nights from She Wants Revenge

<<prequel: Oh By Gosh, By Golly>>

One day, your mom calls you up out of the blue wanting to talk about planning a family vacation this year. Somewhere with sandy beaches and clear blue water. Something over an extended weekend once everyone can take off work. She’s already talked it over with your dad and he’s agreeable as long as it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. 

As she talks, you pull open your calendar and look over your work schedule. Once you find a date that works, she promises to text you the details of the Air B&B she plans to book. You bid her goodbye and hang up the phone, quietly excited about a beach trip even if it is with your parents. 

You keep busy as you slowly count down the days; long graduated from college but still struggling to find work in your major, you’ve had to settle for any job opportunity that will pay the bills. Luckily enough, you were hired to work at the local post office. It’s not a glamorous job by any means, but you do get federal holidays off and your boss is pretty lenient with you. It’s a cinch to put in your PTO for the extended weekend you plan to spend with your parents. 

The morning you drive down to the beach house is pleasant; it’s early enough you miss out on a bunch of traffic which helps you save enough time to splurge a little and grab some coffee. Following the GPS, you get to the beach house in the afternoon with plenty of sunshine left to enjoy. Your parent’s car is already parked outside so you don’t have to worry about figuring out how to unlock the joint.

You grab your small suitcase and make your way into the lovely three story home. As you walk up the gravel sidewalk, you take in how secluded the area truly is and how lucky your mom was in getting such a nice place. You’re pretty sure it cost out the ass, but hey who’re you to deny such generosity?

The door swings open before you touch the handle and your mom pulls you into a hug. 

“Oh honey, I’m so happy you could make it!”

Breathing in the perfume embedded into your brain from childhood, you give her a quick squeeze back before pulling away. 

“Me too,” you smile, “this place is amazing!”

She laughs and moves further into the house, looking back as you follow along behind after closing the door. 

“A friend of a friend owns this place so it was pretty easy to get. Even your father can’t throw one of his little hissy fits about the cost,” she rolls her eyes and you breathe out a laugh. 

“Where is he?” You look around but only see the open kitchen leading off into the dining room. 

“Down at the beach,” she points to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the living room, “I told him I wanted to stay up here for when you arrived.”

You nod and smile at her again, “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m gonna go put my stuff up and change then we can head down ourselves.”

She nods, “There’s a handful of bedrooms on the second and third floor. Your dad and I are staying in the master down here so you have your choice of rooms.”

“Nice, be back in a sec,” grabbing your luggage, you climb the stairs to scout out where you want to sleep. 

You pick a cute room on the third floor; it has a little balcony with a couple of chairs that gives you a fantastic view for miles around. You toss your clothes into the dresser and quickly change into your swimsuit. Grabbing a towel and some sunscreen, you slide on your sandals and make your way back downstairs. Your mom, wearing a big floppy hat, is already standing outside the sliding doors. 

You chatter with each other, just catching up on your day to day, while you both make your way down the little path that leads out onto the beach. As soon as your sandals hit the sand, you see a huge beach umbrella. 

“Glad to know he won’t burn,” your mom laughs, toeing off her own sandals to walk barefoot over to your dad. 

Following her lead, you take off your sandals and carry them over to the blanket underneath the shade of the umbrella. 

“‘Bout time,” a groggy baritone meets your ears. 

“Shush, Leon, it didn’t kill you to nap on the beach now did it?”

Your dad just mumbles a reply to your mom before raising up. He squints over at you, eyes heavy lidded from sleep as you set your stuff down. 

“The drive okay?”

You laugh and finally look over at him, “It was fine.”

His blue eyes sharpen as they read your expression before darting down to give you a once over. Your nipples tighten against your will and his gaze seems to linger there for a split second before flicking back up to your face. Plastering on a fake smile, you sit down and grab your sunscreen. 

“Want some help with that?” Your dad nods to the little bottle in your hands. 

“S-sure.”

You kinda hope the ground splits open to swallow you whole, but instead you just move over to where your dad is sitting up on the blanket, hand outstretched to grab the sunscreen. 

“Well while you two do that, I’m going to go take a dip,” your mom beams at you, completely leaving you alone to wallow in this newfound awkwardness. 

Keeping your back to your dad, you feel his broad calloused palms drag the slick lotion all over your back and shoulders, deftly massaging it in. For the last few years, there’s been a line of tension between you and Leon. An accidental kiss under the mistletoe where you both used too much tongue to be appropriate (any tongue isn’t appropriate but you’re blaming the alcohol everyone had been drinking).  

Since then, you’ve both watched the other. Glances too heated to be innocent, brushing against each other unnecessarily… and now with his sun warmed hands rubbing across your back, your brain empties as your body buzzes with arousal.

It’s why it takes a second for you to realize that your dad has moved on to rubbing in the sunblock across your ribs and over your clavicle. His hands come up and cup your breasts, stiff nipples showing through the fabric. 

“Gotta make sure to get everywhere,” his breath gusts past your ear as his hands slip under your top and massages the fat of your breasts. 

“Ohh,” you whimper quietly, cunt pulsing warmly in time with your heartbeat.  

He squeezes and rubs across your soft skin, fingers plucking at your stiff peaks until you moan brokenly. 

“Dad,” your breathy exaltation has him pinching and twisting your nipples before groping your breasts roughly in his hands. 

“‘M almost done,” he licks the shell of your ear and your thighs twitch, “you’ve got such nice tits, princess. Don’t want’em to burn.”

You press your hand over your mouth to muffle the whine you let slip. With one last harsh pinch to your nipples, he lets go, scooting back away from you. 

“Should be good to go,” he grins at your dazed look, “don’t keep your mom waiting.”

Shaking your head, you blink rapidly and slowly climb to your feet. As you pass by Leon, his hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard. 

“Be a good girl, okay?”

“Y-yeah, dad.”

You pad out to the ocean, waving to your mom as she looks for seashells in the shallow water. Wading out far enough for water to hit your chest, you finally let yourself sigh out loud. 

“What in the fuck?!”

You rub wet hands over your face as you gaze out onto the horizon. Flirting is one thing, but getting felt up by your dad is definitely crossing the line. You shiver, clit still throbbing as you reach down to press your palm against your cunt. Even as messed up as it may make you, you wish he would’ve slipped his hand down and fingered your pussy. 

The sun glaring off the water makes you squint even as you enjoy the scenery, trying your best to squish all the other thoughts and feelings you’ve had in the past half hour down into a little box you can open later. It works for a time, until the squinting becomes too much and the glare is driving sharp little needles into your brain. 

Leaving the water, you make your way over to your mom as she scoops up more shells with a net. 

“I’m gonna head in, got a bit of a headache,” you wince as the sun bounces off her watch into your eyes. 

“Let me walk with you,” she frowns, “you’re looking a little washed out.”

You nod and follow her back up to the beach blanket, eyes skirting over where your dad’s lounging reading a book. 

“We’re headed up to the house, do you need anything?”

Your mom grabs her bag and your stuff as your dad sets his book down onto his lap. He looks at you then back to his wife. 

“No, once I finish this, I’ll be heading up, too.”

She hums and takes you by the arm, helping guide you back to the house since the pain beats a tempo behind your eyes and makes your vision a little blurry. Once in the house, she helps you upstairs to your room. In doing so, she makes sure to stop in at the bathroom on the bottom floor to point out the migraine medicine in the cabinet.

Entering your room, she sits you down on your bed. She tucks you in and makes sure to close the blinds before walking back into the hallway. Turning, she gives you a concerned look.

“I’m going to head into town. It’s about an hour's drive from here so I won’t be back til later. If you need anything, call, okay?”

You hum in reply already drifting to sleep in hopes you’ll feel better once you crash for a few hours. The nap helps and by the time you come to, your headache is completely gone. Waking up is a chore however; it takes you a minute to realize where you are, eyelids sticking together, gummy with sleep. 

Raising up on your elbows, you reach over to the side table and grab your phone. Eyebrows pinching together, you blink sluggishly until you can read the time. It’s only late afternoon even if it feels like you’ve slept through the night. Climbing out of bed, you change before leaving your room with a plan on grabbing some water from the kitchen. 

It’s noticeably quiet as you finally step out on the bottom floor. Your mom must still be gone since you don’t see her shoes by the front door. 

“Fuck.”

You hear the muttered curse from the half open bathroom door that you’re walking past heading to the kitchen. 

“Everything okay?” 

You slowly press the door all the way open and your dad fumbles with a towel before placing it over his lap as he sits heavily down on the edge of the tub. 

“I thought you were out with your mother,” he bites out, tone sharp.

“No,” you frown, leaning against the doorjamb, “I had a headache and took a nap. Are you alright?”

He blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. 

“I’m fine. What time did she say she’d be back?”

You shrug, “Couple of hours I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Should I call—“

“No,” Leon nearly shouts, “no, don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“Dad, I can help I just need to know what’s wrong,” you step closer into the bathroom. 

He laughs without any humor, “Sure.”

You go to ask him why when your eyes catch on the bottle sitting by the sink. It’s similar to the migraine medicine you saw in the medicine cabinet earlier, the one your mom pointed out if the nap didn’t get rid of your headache. Who knew your dad needed help getting it up?

“Did you..?”

You trail off, feeling awkward and nervous and disgustingly turned on to think your dad’s dick is hard underneath that flimsy towel. 

“Yes,” he sounds tired, “I thought it was the other medicine.”

“Ohh,” you bite your lip, brain completely in the gutter as your eyes drift down to his lap, “I mean, I can still help.”

It seems insane but your dad’s not stopping you as you shuffle closer to stand between his legs. His blue eyes stay steady on yours as you kneel in the floor, knees digging into the soft rug in front of the tub. Leon tugs his briefs down and his cock slaps against his stomach, precum drooling from the head. He’s so hard, the foreskin has drawn back from the tip showcasing how red and swollen his cock has gotten from the medication. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, eyes greedily taking him in.

“Fuck, don’t look at it like that,” he groans, hands gripping the tub so tight his knuckles blanch.

“You’re just really big,” you press the dough of your thighs together, trying to put a little pressure on your throbbing clit, “you’ve got the fattest cock I’ve ever seen, dad.”

You watch as precum blurts from the tip to drip all down his length while he moans low in his throat. 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth,” his pupils are blown as he gazes down at you, “since you like how big my dick is, sweetheart, why don’t you show me, hmm?”

Your tongue licks up all the precum leaking down his dick before softly suckling on the head.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, “suck that cock.”

Moaning, you bob your head down, tongue tracing the thick vein you can feel on the side as you sink down inch by inch. Your dad pulls out to trace your lips with his drippy tip, smearing precum across your mouth like sticky gloss. You moan and press a kiss to his dick, tongue lapping at the crown until he’s rocking back into your mouth. Humming low in your throat makes his cock kick in your mouth, precum coating your tongue.

“Damn, so good,” he groans, hand smoothing across your jaw, cradling it as he pulls his cock out, “never get head from your mom anymore. Feels so good.”

More slick wets your panties as you mewl, throat clicking as you swallow around his thick length. You hungrily suck his cock, tongue circling his head before dipping into the slit to taste more of his precum.

“Like sucking me off, sweetheart?” he tosses the fringe away from his eyes while he rocks his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat with smooth strokes until you gag heavily. 

“Love that, choke on it a bit more and I’ll be spilling down your slutty throat.”

Thick strands of saliva bridge between your mouth and his dick like shimmery spiderwebs as he slips out. You moan when he ruts his cock across your tongue. Leon groans and reaches down to tap his cock against your lips before feeding it back to you. Whining, you suck him deeper into your mouth, licking across the head before messily bobbing your head further down his thick length.  

“I'm about t’cum, swallow it all up, princess,” he thrusts a few more times before pulling out until the tip is sitting fat and heavy on your tongue. 

Leon grunts and moans as hot thick spurts of cum fill your mouth. Swallowing quickly, you try to keep his cum from spilling out around your lips, but it ends up leaving a sticky mess to drip down your chin in thick strands. 

You watch as he groans, stomach flexing while you suckle on the head of his dick, making sure to not miss any of his hot jizz as his balls empty into your mouth. After giving the tip of his dick a kiss, you pull back and wipe the spend from your face with the bottom of your shirt. 

Your cunt feels soaked, panties sticking to your pussy lips as you shakily stand onto your feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Your dad stands up beside you, cock still hard and leaking, making you whimper. Pulling his briefs back up, he leaves his shorts and shirt lying on the floor. He grabs you by the forearm and leads you out of the bathroom and all the way upstairs into your room.

“No surprises if your mom comes home early,” he informs you, pushing you further into your room followed by closing and locking your door. 

Heat radiates from your cunt, more slick dripping into the already soaked gusset of your panties. Leon shoves you back onto your bed before climbing on top of you, kissing you heatedly as he sinks down onto your body. You wrap your legs around his waist while you run your hands through his messy hair. You're so turned on you can’t think straight anymore. 

“Thatta girl,” he coos, pulling back to drop kisses across your neck, “can’t wait to feel your wet little pussy, baby.”

You whimper and pull him back up into another kiss. This time he licks into your mouth messily, spit dripping from the corners of your lips to slide down your jaw. You feel him grind his cock against you before pulling away. 

He sits back on his haunches and slips his briefs off, maneuvering until he can toss them into the floor. Next, he leans forward and grips the bands of your panties and shorts. You help him, shimmying to move your clothes down off of your legs. As he moves those into the floor, you slip your shirt off and let it too fall onto the pile of clothing. 

“God, love your tits,” he groans, shoving his face into your breasts, mouth licking and biting every inch of skin they come across. 

His mouth suctions around a nipple, tongue teasing the stiff bud as he tweaks the opposite one with his fingers. 

“Dad,” you moan, nails digging into his scalp.

“What?” He coos, “your dad can’t show his appreciation?”

A whine rasps from your throat and Leon laughs meanly before biting the swollen bud he was sucking. With a grunt, he moves across your sternum, leaving hot open mouthed kisses across your chest until he can suckle and tease the other nipple, fingers plucking and pinching at the now wet one. 

Your hips writhe, leaking cunt dragging against his stomach as his cock grinds against the cleft of your ass. 

“Gonna let daddy stuff your tight wet cunt?” He chuckles as your eyes flutter as he lathes your nipples with broad swipes of his tongue. 

“Yes,” you whisper, “wanna feel you split me open. You’re so big.”

Whining on the last word, you rock down, feeling his tip catch against your pussy lips and driving you crazy. 

He growls and sits back on his heels, taking his cock in hand to smack it against your clit. 

“So slutty,” his pupils swallow the blue of his eyes, “want daddy to stretch this little hole out? Show you how a real dick feels?”

Nodding along with his words, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into the plush skin.  

“Goddamn,” he mutters, spitting in his hand to slick his cock before pressing the head against your soaked heat. 

Using his thumb, he presses his cock down so the tip slides into your hole. Keeping it there, he rocks against your hips, sinking inch by inch into your pulsing cunt as his thumb keeps his cock steady. Pulling halfway out, he flexes his hips and thrusts forward faster than before. 

“Even your mom doesn’t let me go raw anymore,” he chuckles, bottoming out so fast you choke on air, “so this is a real treat, sweetheart.”

“Ohh god, dad,” you moan, voice high as he starts sliding his cock in and out of your pussy, rough thrusts that make your breasts bounce. 

You whine when he grinds against you, his pelvis rubbing over your swollen clit just right. His balls smack against your ass on every thrust, the loud plap plap plap of skin driving your arousal even higher. 

“Dad, fuck, s’too much,” you gasp out another whine, head feeling dizzy as your blood rushes, arousal making your pulse feel heavy in your throat. 

He groans and drops his weight down on you, bare skin sticking together from the sweat building between your bodies. Leon kisses across your neck, mouth grazing your skin with barely there nips that makes your pussy flutter around his cock. 

The thatch of hair at the base of Leon’s cock grazes your sensitive clit, sending little electric shocks of pleasure that brings tears to your eyes. You feel so good, you can’t stop the slutty noises from leaving your mouth. Rutting into your body, your dad’s fat cock grinds against the spongy spot along the front of your cunt. Slick gushes from your pussy as he hammers your g-spot so perfectly you can’t help but squeeze him tighter and tighter. 

“Princess,” he murmurs in your ear, “is this little pussy gonna cum? You’re so soft and wet— I can feel you tightening up around me. God so much tighter than your mom, can’t believe I’ve been missing out.”

His words push you over the edge. You babble out little chants of dad, dad, dad until a guttural moan spills from your throat, thighs jumping as your pussy clamps down on Leon’s dick like a vice.

Your low moaning twists into a scream as his hand sneaks down to rub and tease your clit. Instead of your orgasm tapering off, it ramps up, gaining speed until it hurtles you into cumming again. 

“Aww, she’s gripping me so tight,” Leon mocks sweetly in your ear, “yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.”

“Dad,” you whimper, tears clumping your eyelashes, “dad, please.”

A moan rumbles from his chest and he humps your cunt faster, cock never pulling completely out as he ruts inside your slick pussy walls. Half a dozen thrusts more and he’s growling down at you, pressing his cock balls deep into your cunt, thick cum spurting from the tip of his dick to stuff you full.  

“Oh so tight, baby,” he sighs, hips pressed against yours as he spills inside your snug little cunt, “your little pussy fits me like a glove.”

Shuddering, your walls milk another small load of cum from his heavy balls and he pants noisily against your clavicle. He presses up onto his forearms, hips swiveling to pull his cock halfway out before sinking it back inside, a mix of your creamy arousal and his spend making a ring around the base.

“Good, huh,” his laugh tinges on mocking, “don’t worry, ‘m not done with my daughter’s cute pussy, gonna keep you here for as long as it takes.”

After that, it’s all a pleasurable blur. You're unsure how many orgasms your dad has given you at this point, but you know he’s only had three and his cock is still so thick and hard. 

“Think this one will be it, princess,” he grunts, hoisting your limp thighs up, the bend of your knees slotting perfectly over the bend of his arms. 

You can only pant in reply, mouth as dry as cotton. He notches the head of his drooling dick at your entrance, dragging the tip up to smear the cum from his last creampie all over your used cunt. 

“One last load for your greedy little pussy,” he grins down at you, “then we can take a shower.”

He sinks his cock into your sore pussy at the same time he leans forward, pressing your sweaty bodies together. Your eyes roll back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, thighs shaking against his arms. 

“So deep,” he groans, “best cunt I’ve ever fucked and to think it belongs to my sweet daughter.”

Your pussy spasms and clenches down on his thick length as you cry out. Brain melting pleasure seeps down your spine as he pulls out to grind across your g-spot before fucking back into your cunt roughly. 

“S’good, dad,” you mewl, mouth drooling as he hammers his cock into your sensitive hole, “so good.”

“I know,” he croons, “I feel good, too. Not g’nna be able to give up this sweet little pussy. She grips me too good, baby, I’m gonna want her all the time.”

Another orgasm slams into your body, pussy pulsing and sucking his cock into your hole as your head thrashes against the bed. Leon’s hands grip your wrists to push them down against the bed so you don’t scratch him. 

“Fuck, milking your dad’s cock like you’re made for it,” he groans, humping into your pussy with deep strokes until you’re crying from overstimulation. 

“Shh, shh, just take it a little more, ‘m about to cum,” he licks into your mouth, biting on your bottom lip before pulling back, “that’s it, take it, take your dad’s dick deep into that hot, greedy little pussy.”  

Hiccuping a sob, your cunt steadily milks his cock as he buries himself all the way, as deep into your pussy as possible. He grunts against your skin as he grinds his dick against your cervix, spilling rope after rope of cum to paint your walls white. The sticky heat makes your clit throb even as your body aches, wanting to succumb to exhaustion. 

The distant question of how your mom isn’t back yet buzzes at the corner of your consciousness. You must slur it out loud cause Leon laughs as he pulls his softening cock from your puffy leaking cunt. 

“She texted you to say she got stuck in a traffic jam and the road’s blocked for a few hours,” he sighs as he slaps his cock down onto your messy pussy, a wet splat that makes you wince. 

“Dad, ‘m sore,” you pout.

“So sorry, baby,” he coos, a grin overtaking his face, “want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Chest fluttering at the thought, you go to agree when your phone buzzes with an incoming call. Leon grabs it to silence it but turns to look at you. 

“It’s your mom,” he chuckles, handing it over to you, “better see what she wants.”

Sliding it open, her voice rings out clear in the quiet of your room. 

“Hey honey, your dad didn’t answer but I wanted to say I’m about five minutes from the house if you wanted to preheat the oven for this frozen pizza I picked up,” she laughs to herself, “well, it was frozen.”

Your dad sits down on the edge of the bed, listening in to the conversation. 

“Okay, sure, we’ll see ya when you get here,” Leon nods at you, “bye, mom.”

After she says goodbye, you put the phone back on the side table. 

“Well we should get cleaned up,” Leon helps you stand on weak legs, “I’ll help you to the tub and I’ll head downstairs.”

“Thanks, dad,” you smile up at him and he drops a kiss on your cheek. 

“Of course,” he leads you out into the hallway, helping you inside the little bathroom next to your room. 

He sits you down onto the toilet, turning on the shower to allow it time to heat up. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your temple, “I know it’s all kinds of fucked up, but I still love you.”

Heart beating double time, you give him a crooked smile, “I love you too, dad.”

He presses his lips together, looking like he wants to say more, but he blows out a harsh breath and walks back out into the hall. 

“I’ll handle the oven and your mom, you just come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you say as he swings the door shut. 

Sitting there with your thoughts, you let yourself feel. Satisfaction filters through followed by a smidgen of guilt and shame. You hate that your mom is an innocent party in all of this, but you don’t regret letting your dad fuck your brains out. And since this is a complete one off, it’s just a little family secret that you’ll both be taking to the grave. 

Once steam wafts from the shower, you stand up and step into the warm water. You whimper as the heat works on your sore muscles. By this time tomorrow, this will all seem like some really deranged fantasy you dreamt up. Finishing up in the shower, you dry off and make your way back to your room. Getting dressed, you descend downstairs, the smell of pizza growing stronger. 

“Oh there you are! Feeling better?” 

Your mom comes around the counter to feel your forehead. 

“Yeah, I just slept it off.”

She ushers you to sit down at the table and brings the pizza over, your dad following behind with the drinks. Your mom sits to your right and your dad sits across from you both. He catches your eye and winks, making you look down at your plate out of shyness. 

“Eat up, I’m sure you’re wore out from the hard day,” his mirthful tone draws your gaze back up. 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat and take a drink, “it’s been a hard day alright.”

[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Love You Like A Love Song - Part Two :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part One

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Pierre Gasly

- Lover - Taylor Swift

The winter break in the F1 yearly calendar was possibly your favourite time of year, any time that you didn't have to miss your boyfriend for days at a time was time you cherished. During the season it was common for you and Pierre to pass each other like ships on the ocean. His early morning starts meant that you were waking up just as he left for the gym and with your days being spent in the studio you wouldn't arrive back to your shared home until long after he had eaten dinner, walked Simba and spent some time on the simulator to prep for that weekends upcoming race.

But winter break meant a few different things, the first being just over two months of freedom between the end of one season in Abu Dhabi and the beginning of testing before Bahrain kicked off the next. The second being that you and Pierre would spend a week visiting both of your families to spend some time with them before the two of you holed yourselves up in Strasbourg for the Christmas period, your apartment there playing host to the most wonderful time of year until New Years called you both down to Monaco for the annual celebration with your friends.

But tonight was more important than thoughts of the upcoming season, Christmas Eve was here and after you both got back from touring the Christmas market with Simba, the front door was locked and the curtains mostly drawn, the fireplace lit and the croon of old records on your player sealed you all inside your apartment for the night, wrapping you up in your own little snow globe. It was a picture perfect scene, you on the couch with Simba curled up in your lap, Pierre grabbing the wine and pasta that you were eating for dinner, with Miracle on 34th Street playing on the TV, snow falling past the window.

Every Christmas followed this routine since you and Pierre first celebrated the holiday together as a couple, and you couldn't picture a better way to spend it.

But of all of the traditions you followed there was one that seemed the most special, as a child Christmas gifts were locked away never to be opened until the morning, but being adults who made their own rules, you two always sat under the tree on the evening of the 24th and opened your gifts for each other. This year you could feel yourself on the edge of your seat because of the wrapped record that sat at the bottom of his pile, a surprise that you had been working on for about a month.

"qu'est-ce que c'est?" his goofy smile made you giggle as he got to the last gift in his little stack, a stack which had also contained a new watch, a silly t shirt with a photo of him and Charles when they were kids in their little karting suits (a matching one sat in a gift bag with the Monegasque's name on it) and a Cartier chain that now sat in its rightful place on his neck. The flat square was wrapped immaculately in the same gold and silver paper as his other gifts but once the paper was ripped off Pierre was met with a simple brown cardboard record sleeve, completely blank besides a polaroid that had been glued to the front, it was from your first Christmas together, taken in that very apartment when it was empty bar the Christmas tree and sofa you were currently sat on. One word decorated the bottom border of the photograph "Lover" written in your familiar handwriting.

Your own smile only grew when he immediately abandoned all his other gifts to swap out the current song for his mystery gift. Smooth guitars filled the room as he pulled you up to dance with him, your own voice echoing through the room as you settled into a slow sway.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Lover

The songs end was met with the muffled crackle of the needle but you couldn't pull your eyes away from his. without breaking away from your gaze Pierre pulled a small box from his pocket and knelt on the spot. Love and admiration never leaving his eyes.

Your Lover, Forever.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Charles Leclerc

- Feels like This - Maisie Peters

There were a select few honours that you had managed to have in your life this far, the first being the music you were able to give to the world. Since you were old enough to babble you held a tune and the passion you had for music translated to the songs you wrote and shared with the world as your career.

The second being the honour you had to be the long time girlfriend of the most amazing man you had ever known. Charles met you when you were traveling in Italy a few years ago as a well deserved treat to yourself after finishing university. A coffee shop in Maranello played host to your meet cute where you sat in a cosy corner next to the most beautiful piano, when the owner saw you eyeing the instrument she insisted that you play something, and among the crowd of café patrons stood a transfixed Charles Leclerc. He was still in his first year of racing with Ferrari at the time, and once you finished playing a song that you had written the patrons applauded while he worked up the courage to ask you for your name, and eventually your number. The relationship that followed was nothing short of a fairy tale and as his career in formula one grew so did yours in music, both of you growing into notorious and respected individuals in your respective fields.

All this to say that your third and most recent honour came in the form of a request 6 months ago. It was inevitable that Charles brother Lorenzo would eventually propose to his long time love Charlotte but when the day finally came it was magical. This exciting chapter in their lives came with a very special request from the future groom himself, as he pulled you to the side at the family dinner held to celebrate the upcoming nuptials and explained that he wanted to surprise Charlotte with a song for their first dance as husband and wife, and he wanted you (renowned artist and his brother's girlfriend) to write and perform it.

Which led you to tonight, mere hours before the wedding, where you were sat at the piano in the ballroom of the beautiful historic mansion in the Italian countryside that would play host to the reception the following day. You were so engrossed in your secret rehearsal that the footsteps of your love went unheard until you felt him sit with you, the both of you sharing the piano stool. Charles made a successful distraction as your fingers left the keys and you turned to look at him, joy dancing in his eyes as he took you in, sat in your happy place.

"So this is what you have been working on? It sounds beautiful."

Charles was just as much in the dark about your song as the rest of the family, the only one who had heard the song being Lorenzo when you sent a voice note to him three weeks ago for final approval, the phone call you received minutes later held his glowing admiration and you could almost swear his voice was heavy with emotion as he thanked you what must have been a hundred times, citing the songs perfection.

"Enzo asked me to write it, its his gift to Charlotte for tomorrow, their first dance."

You fiddled with the keys absentmindedly before launching into the full song, this time with the vocals which echoed through the empty room, the world coming to a standstill as Charles watched you with eyes full of love.

Who cares about star signs? I'm hardwired to be with you You're like a sunrise and I'm scared that I'll never get enough of you Nobody called it a starfall Come out the blue I'm all butterflies I'm sky-high for you When it feels like this, like a light came on And you look at me like I'm all you want I got everything at my fingertips How can I resist when it feels like this?

The final notes echoed through the room as you met Charles' gaze for his approval, you were met with his hazel gaze staring into your soul.

"How do you do it?" He whispers in awe.

"I write them about you."

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Carlos Sainz

- A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

You and Carlos never fought, in the three years that you have been lucky to love him it had never happened.

You were convinced that you were soulmates, twin flames that slotted together like puzzle pieces, your personalities fit in a way that you had never seen before, not in the love your own parents shared, not in the movies you grew up watching or the books you read, not even in the love you saw everyday between strangers on the streets that you would never meet again. Since the day you met Carlos Sainz you were convinced that he was the answer to the wishes that the little girl inside you once made on stars looking to find a handsome prince to love her forever.

Couples fight, it was normal, healthy even. The words bounced around your head, hitting the walls of your empty home in a never ending loop. Couples fight, but you never did.

Which is why you were so frazzled, why you sat in a trance in your living room, alone in your big empty house while your fiancé was on the other side of the world. Because you and Carlos never fought, until you did.

The argument became insignificant the second it ended, you couldn't even remember what it was about or what had started it in the first place, but it was enough to leave you in tears as Carlos picked up his keys and left two days before he was set to leave for Singapore. Your phone lay on the table in front of you, screen dark and notification bar empty. He had yet to reach out, no calls or texts since he walked out the day before, but neither had you. You didn't know what to say, and it wasn't for lack of trying, but every time your finger hovered over his contact you froze, what if he didn't want to speak to you? The Singapore Grand Prix was a difficult race in its essence, it was held at night in blistering heat and it was dangerous if the driver couldn't command their full focus, so the idea of distracting him before he raced left a pit in your stomach.

You were brought out of your thoughts when your phone finally lit up, the screen coming to life with a feint buzz, heart leaping into your throat you scrambled to open it, hoping for a message from him, but it was instead from Lando, one of Carlos' closest friends on the grid. His message was simple, a brief 'saw this on twitter' followed by a video.

Opening the attachment you were met with an edit, clearly made by a fan, of moments that the media and other fans had caught in your relationship. Clips and photos from the last three years of you and Carlos strung together in a video that captured the story of you both, from early days to the many races that you were in attendance for, snippets from interviews where the other was mentioned to the photo that had announced your engagement to the world. Every public moment of your love captured in a two minute video that had you smiling and filled with warmth.

The song took three days from start to finish, your extensive training in as many instruments as you could get your hands on let you compose the piece in record time, and the final product sat nestled in your phone as you boarded the flight to Singapore, the sixteen hour flight let you catch up on the sleep you had lost and when you landed on Sunday evening you were an hour away from the start of the race, you wouldn't make it to the track before Carlos was in the car but the audio file was sent as you settled into a taxi.

When you reached the paddock the race was well underway and a staff member from Ferrari waited at the gates with your pass. There were 10 laps to go when you finally made it to the garage, Alexandra waving you over as you both watched your boys in the final stint of the race, when the checker flag waved to signal the end of the race you accompanied the rest of the crew out to the parc ferme barriers, Max, George and Lando settled into their podium spaces and between them you could see him.

Your eyes met, and the world stopped.

As he jogged over the crew around you began their congratulations for his P4 finish, but your eyes never left his, not until he reached you and his lips crashed onto your own. The frozen world around you began to speed up, lights brighter and sounds louder as you poured you entire being into the kiss.

"mi para siempre" were the words that he mumbled, breaking the kiss with your foreheads pressed together like if you were to separate the world would end.

Couples fight, you and Carlos fought, once, and never again.

And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

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Daniel Riccardo

- Enchanted - Taylor Swift

It was official, you had finally lost your mind.

"I hope you guys are enjoying the show tonight" you spoke into the mic as the stadium crowd cried out in deafening screams, your usual tour costume had been swapped out for the most gorgeous purple gown of your dreams, this entire section of the show was brand new to debut tonight and close out your Sydney show. A new song that had never been heard by the crowd, or by the man who stood with your friends and family in the VIP tent.

You and Daniel had been friends for as long as either of you could remember. Attached by the hip all your lives you were best friends, well, you were his best friend, you were madly in love with him, which was inconvenient.

As the crowd died down you continued "It's so special to be back in Australia, this has been a pretty epic welcome back to my home so thank you all for coming out tonight." You could feel the love pouring back at you from the crowd, which was giving you courage to do what you were about to do, if this whole thing blew up in your face like fireworks then at least you knew that they would have a new song.

"So I have this song, its a new song that I wrote for my next album but I think that tonight is the perfect night to sing it to you all for the first time." Your eyes bounced between the floor and the section of seats to the left of the stage, where you knew Daniel was watching.

Yep, you had finally gone insane.

"This song was written with someone really special to me in mind, He is someone I have known all my life, and he just so happens to be the person I love most in the world, so I hope you enjoy."

The band played the intro to the song, guitars ringing through the venue which riled the crowd up once again into cheers, there was no going back now.

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy Vanished when I saw your face All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

Thousands of lights began to erupt around the stadium, looking like the fireflies that you and Danny used to chase in the summer. This song contained your entire being, all of your feelings, memories, and dreams condensed into six minutes. Years of neighbouring desks in school, sneaking out to watch the stars, lounging on the sofa in his garage while he fiddled with his kart. It spanned all the cities that you followed him to, watching him race, every victory and every loss, different formula categories and varying teams over the years as he made a name for himself. All the years of talent shows and sleepless nights on porches with your guitar and your notebook, to the sold out shows that led you to tonight. Every single moment shared with him.

This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you

The consequences of your extremely public declaration of your feelings were glaringly obvious, it could all go horribly wrong. You knew that Daniel wouldn't exit your life if he didn't feel the same, but no matter the outcome, either he returned your feelings or you just publicly humiliated yourself on stage and you weren't entirely sure that you could live with the rejection that you would face if he didn't love you the way you wanted to be loved by him.

Daniel Riccardo held a tight grasp on your heart and he had the power to shatter it into a million pieces.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Your voice rang out to a final deafening cheer from the crowd as the lights went dark. The show was over, and now you had to face the music.

As the venue began to empty you paced the length of the backstage area, Daniel always met you back stage after a show if he was in attendance, and as the minutes ticked by and the tulle of your dress brushed the floor with every step dread started to seep into you.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Before you could wish for the earth to swallow you whole pounding footsteps came to a sudden halt behind you. When you turned to see him he looked out of breath, like he ran to get there. His expression was unreadable and a final strike of dread sent a shiver down your spine.

This was a mistake.

Before you could say anything, before you could fumble for the words to explain yourself, make up any excuse to save your friendship from the catastrophic end that your mind was envisioning he marched up to meet you.

The kiss was unexpected, you would have thought you were dreaming but even in your dreams, Daniel never kissed you like that. It lasted what felt like forever and as you both eventually came up for air the unreadable look in his eyes suddenly became glaringly clear.

"I'm not in love with anyone but you."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Part two as promised, This one was a lot of fun to write so I hope you enjoy.

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[blueskrugs]

I Love You (It's Ruining My Life) | Nick Blankenburg

this is a christmas fic. in july. for demi @wyattjohnston's birthday. which was in june. does the earliness of one make up for the lateness of the other? uh. happy birthday/happy holidays, I guess? fear of commitment / secret admirer / stranded / high school sweethearts / exes to lovers length: 6.4k words

Nick Blankenburg is the boy Olivia will never get over. 

There’s a framed photo in her mother’s living room from seven years ago of Nick and Olivia at senior prom. Nick’s tie and boutonniere matched Olivia’s red Sherri Hill dress and corsage. In her heels, she was a couple of inches taller than him. Olivia sees it, sees them nestled in between the rest of their family photos, every time she’s home. She loved that photo; Nick is smiling softly at her, hand on her hip as she laughs at something one of her friends was doing off-camera. There’s a blooper of that photo, of Nick making faces to keep Olivia laughing, because “her smile is better that way.” That was her phone lock screen for months after that day. 

Sometimes she wishes she could hide that picture frame now, or throw it into the fireplace and watch it burn.

But that would be dramatic. 

Dramatic like Nick breaking up with her two months after high school graduation, saying he needed time to “figure some things out.” Dramatic like Nick hardly talking to her for weeks before he dumped her, after they’d been dating for three years. 

Olivia had cried for weeks. Nick had been her first boyfriend, her first love. Washington was a small town, and almost everyone Olivia knew had married their high school sweetheart and settled down. She’d thought that would be her and Nick, too, until Nick decided to set his sights on bigger things. 

Olivia pretended to get over it and moved to Ann Arbor in the fall. Nick seemed like he was always over it, and he moved to Detroit to join Victory Honda. 

Olivia threw everything she had into school. She joined a sorority, joined clubs, started coaching a local girls’ soccer team. She was doing well.

By the time she was in her third year and one of her sorority sisters was telling her about the cute overage freshman named Nick who had joined the Michigan hockey team, Olivia is doing her best impersonation of a girl who finally got over her high school boyfriend.

It doesn’t stop her from dropping her phone on her face when her friend Paige leans over from her perch on the end of Olivia’s bed to show her the newest member of the hockey team. Nick Blankenburg’s smiling face stares back at Olivia from Paige’s phone screen.

“It says he’s from Washington, d’you know him?” Paige asks, oblivious. She’s already resumed scrolling.

“Yeah, uh,” Olivia says. “I think we went to high school together.”

“Oh, cool,” Paige says, continuing her blithe scrolling again. 

Olivia thinks that’s the end of it. Hopes it’s the end of it. She doesn’t frequent hockey games these days, and since Nick spent two years in juniors instead of heading straight to Michigan, it’s unlikely they’ll be crossing paths on campus any time soon. 

Then the football game against Ohio State rolls around. Olivia’s boyfriend Austin had traveled from Ohio to Michigan for Thanksgiving with Olivia’s family, and he stuck around through the weekend to go to the game at The Big House. Austin sticks out like a sore thumb, decked in all red, in a sea of maize and blue, but he good naturedly kisses Olivia at kickoff, ignoring the jeers of the crowd around them. 

Michigan loses. It’s a bit of a blowout. 

Someone from the next section over shouts something at Austin. He turns to shout back, tightening his arm around Olivia’s waist as they try to make their way out of the stadium with the rest of the crowd. Olivia’s not sure who starts it, but someone starts shoving. Olivia gets caught in the middle of it, jostled to the side as a fight starts. There’s more yelling. Someone pushes Olivia from behind, then from the side, and she falls. 

Or, starts to fall, until someone catches her. It’s oddly reminiscent of the time Olivia met Austin, at another Ohio State versus Michigan football game her freshman year, and someone had bumped into him, causing him to spill a soda on Olivia. 

She looks up into the face of the hands that caught her. “Nick?” she blurts. Nick’s grip on her elbows gets tighter, before he realizes he’s squeezing and lets go. He helps Olivia to her feet again. The crush of the crowd shoves them together, and Nick’s hands slide to Olivia’s hips to steady her. She’s still staring at him in awe, as if she’s never seen him before. 

Nick still hasn’t said anything. Through the crowd, someone takes Olivia’s hand. Austin. She turns to find him, following as he tugs her away from Nick. 

“Who was that?” Austin asks, leaning in close to speak in Olivia’s ear. Olivia cranes her neck around, but Nick’s lost to the crowd again. 

“No one,” Olivia says. “It was no one.” She’s not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or Austin. 

It seems impossible to continue to avoid Nick around Ann Arbor after that. Michigan’s campus has never felt so small. She sees him in the library, studying intently with his headphones on. She sees him walking across campus, always with a few other rowdy hockey players. She sees him waiting in line for coffee at Sweetwaters in the student union. Nick tries to talk to her, once. 

They were crossing paths on campus, and Nick reached out a hand. He was alone, for once.

“Liv, hey,” he’d started. Olivia takes a second to look at him properly for the first time. He’s grown up a little since they left high school, but he still looks like the same sweet Nick she used to know. She pulls her arm away from him.

“I’m late for a class, sorry,” she said. She was heading in the opposite direction of the Education building, and she thought Nick might know that. She walked away before Nick could get another word in. He never tried to talk to her again after that. They share smiles every once in a while; Olivia’s always feel fake.

The years pass. Olivia graduates, gets a job as a fourth grade teacher in Detroit. Austin moves in with her. She finally stops thinking about Nick.

When Nick signs with the Columbus Blue Jackets, Paige takes the liberty of forwarding every single Instagram post about him to Olivia. Olivia FaceTimes Paige just so she can flip her off. Paige spends the next year and a half making it her personal responsibility to keep Olivia updated on her ex-boyfriend—every injury, every goal, every time he’s sent back down to the AHL. 

Olivia tries not to pay any attention to it. Keyword: tries. 

Austin and Olivia drive back down to Ohio a few days before Christmas to visit his family in Columbus. Olivia very carefully doesn’t mention that Nick had been called up a few weeks back the entire drive. It had caused a fight, once, when she mindlessly dropped into a conversation about the Blue Jackets that she knew Nick. She’s never talked about him around Austin again. 

Later that night, when Olivia is standing on the curb outside of Austin’s parents’, her bag by her feet, tears drying on her cheeks in the freezing air, she’s briefly grateful for Paige’s incessant updates on Nick. At least she knows that the only person she knows in this awful city isn’t actually two hours away in Cleveland. She pulls out her phone with shaky hands. 

God, she hopes Nick hasn’t changed his phone number. 

The phone rings for so long that Olivia thinks Nick won’t answer. She swears under her breath and starts to pull her phone away from her ear to call an Uber instead when she hears a muffled, “Hello?” on the other end of the line. It sounds like she woke him. 

“Nick?” Olivia asks. A car drives by, kicking up dirty slush, and Olivia flinches. There’s a moment of silence. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just—” Olivia goes to hang up the phone again, but Nick cuts her off.

“Liv? Hang on, what’s wrong?” There’s shuffling on Nick’s end of the call. He sounds wide awake now. “Where are you, are you in trouble?”

“Can you come pick me up?” Olivia whispers. 

“Text me your address, I’ll be right there.” Nick hangs up.

Olivia’s numb by the time a car pulls up to the curb in front of her. A familiar figure jumps out of the driver’s seat and runs around the front of the car to pull Olivia into a tight hug. Olivia lets herself hug Nick back for a brief second, before he’s pulling away again and reaching for her suitcase.

“Liv, it’s freezing, what the hell are you doing standing out here?” he asks. He ushers her to the passenger seat and throws her suitcase in the back of the car. The heat’s blasting, and Olivia thinks Nick turned on the seat warmer for her. Her teeth are chattering. 

Nick pulls away from the curb. Olivia settles back and lets the suburbs of Columbus turn into a blur outside the windows. Nick allows her to wallow in silence for a few minutes before he turns to Olivia at a red light.

“You didn’t tell me what happened, or why you needed me to pick you up in the middle of the night from the fucking Columbus suburbs,” Nick says. He doesn’t sound angry, just worried. Washed in the red glow of the stoplight, Olivia can see the way his eyebrows crease. 

“Never gave me a chance,” Olivia manages. Nick shoots her an unimpressed look, but the light turns green again, saving Olivia from Nick’s gaze. 

Nick’s CarPlay is softly playing Taylor Swift on shuffle. Olivia lets it cycle through a few songs before she speaks again.

“Austin and I broke up,” Olivia says. 

Nick, to his credit, doesn’t ask who Austin is. Olivia’s pretty sure he never unfollowed her on Instagram. He’s probably seen all of her sappy posts from the last six years. 

Nick just clicks his tongue and says, “Sorry, Liv, that’s shitty.”

Neither of them say anything else for the rest of the drive to Nick’s apartment. Olivia gawks out the window as they approach what is, apparently, Nick’s building.

“What?” Nick asks, pulling carefully into a spot in the parking garage.

“Nick, this is bougie as hell.” Olivia has never felt so far from Washington, Michigan in her life.

Nick shrugs as he puts his car in park and climbs out. He pulls Olivia’s suitcase out before opening her door for her. “It’s not that fancy.”

Olivia smacks him on the chest. She’s struck, suddenly, at how solid Nick’s become now that they’ve grown up. Now that they don’t know each other. The reminder of how different they are, how far they’ve come since high school, shocks Olivia into silence as she follows Nick up the elevator and to his apartment door.

He shoots her another worried look over his shoulder as he unlocks the door. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you still cold?” He pulls Olivia by the wrist across the threshold and over to his couch. He turns on the gas fireplace, which Olivia raises her eyebrows at.

“Not that fancy,” she murmurs. Nick’s still bustling around, turning his heat up, disappearing into his bedroom and re-emerging with an armful of blankets, dressed in sweats and a ratty Michigan T-shirt. He throws a blanket at Olivia’s face. She rips it off, sputtering, before she realizes what it is. “You still have this?” she asks, incredulous.

The blanket in question is a T-shirt blanket, emblazoned all over with Romeo High School—dozens of Nick’s high school T-shirts, cut up and quilted together by Olivia’s mom after they had graduated. Olivia has a matching one, laid across the foot of her bed back in Detroit. 

Nick looks sheepish for the first time since he picked up Olivia. “My mom, uh, helped me move in here, and she wanted to make sure I was never cold, I guess.”

The blanket looks worn, like it’s been used and washed dozens of times since they were eighteen. Olivia doesn’t call Nick out on it. 

Nick settles on his couch next to Olivia. “I’m, uh, driving home first thing in the morning if you want to come with,” he says awkwardly.

Olivia chuckles wryly. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go,” she says. Her mother is going to be so shocked when Olivia shows up on the doorstep in the morning. Olivia was supposed to come back from Ohio with a ring on her finger, not lugging back a broken heart. 

“Oh. Right,” Nick says. They lapse into stiff silence, until Nick yawns.

“You don’t have to stay up on my behalf,” Olivia says.

Nick looks over at her. “Nah, I’m fine.” 

He pulls out his phone, so Olivia does the same, content to scroll in silence for a while. Until Nick starts laughing quietly at something on his phone. Olivia stretches out and pokes him in the thigh with her toes.

“What’s so funny?”

Nick locks his phone sheepishly. “Nothing.” When Olivia raises her eyebrows at him, he relents. “Kent keeps sending me these tweets about me, they’re kinda funny, I guess.” 

Olivia feels her heart skip a beat, but she tries to mask it. She nudges Nick with her foot again. “Tweets about you? I need to see these.”

Nick blushes and tries to hold his phone farther out of Olivia’s reach. Her eyes narrow. That’s as good as a challenge, in her mind. Before she can think better of it, Olivia lunges across the couch for Nick’s phone. Nick jerks back, laughing, but Olivia manages to grab ahold of his wrist. 

“Liv,” Nick says, but then they’re wrestling for the phone. Nick’s still laughing. Olivia’s struck, again, at how much bigger Nick is than when they were still in high school. In the scuffle, Olivia ends up halfway in Nick’s lap, but she’s also successfully clutching Nick’s phone in her hand.

Olivia says a quick prayer that Nick is too sentimental to change his phone passcode. (It’s his mom’s birthday.) Nick half-heartedly swipes at the phone as it clicks unlocked.

God bless Karin Blankenburg. 

“Liv, c’mon, you don’t—” 

Olivia isn’t sure what the next words out of Nick’s mouth are going to be, because she cuts him off by bursting into laughter. She’s swiping quickly through the photo gallery in Nick’s message thread with Kent Johnson. Tweet screenshot, tweet screenshot, random golf photo, another tweet screenshot. They’re mostly innocuous, or vaguely thirsty, or rants about how Nick is underrated by the Blue Jackets organization and how he should get more playing time.

“Liv, what’s so funny?” Nick complains. He sounds put-out, and Olivia glances up from his phone to look at his face. He’s blushing again.

“Nick, like half of these tweets are mine.” From an anonymous Twitter account no one in her life knows about. Nick gapes at her. “I thought I had it locked down, but I guess some have slipped through.” She should check to make sure that account is still private, actually. Nick gapes at her. “What?” Olivia asks. Satisfied, she locks Nick’s phone and hands it back. 

 “I didn’t know you still paid any attention to me,” Nick says. Olivia hasn’t moved from her position in Nick’s lap. 

“A lot of it has been against my will,” Olivia admits. A lot of her tweets were posted under the influence, as well. Nick raises an eyebrow in question. “My friend, Paige, has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play of your entire career. Guess I was more invested than I thought.” 

Nick’s gaping at Olivia again. She wishes he wouldn’t look at her like that. She shifts uncomfortably back to her end of the couch.

Nick doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I use your shower?” Olivia asks, trying desperately to break the awkward silence she has created. “I’m still a little cold.” In truth, she’s warmed up a bit, but she doesn’t think she could bear to sit in the same room as Nick for another moment. 

Nick seems to shake himself. “Oh, yeah, of course.” He points towards his bedroom. “The, uh, bathroom’s through there. There should be a couple extra clean towels and stuff in the closet. Use whatever.”

As Olivia stands to root through her luggage for a change of clothes and her toiletry bag, Nick does the same but slips into the kitchen. Olivia feels a tightness in her chest she didn’t realize was there ease. She sighs. 

When Olivia emerges from the shower twenty minutes later, smelling of Nick’s soap and only feeling marginally more like herself, Nick’s still hiding in the kitchen. He’s eating Christmas cookies, and he looks sheepish when he sees Olivia, like he’s a little kid caught sneaking into the cookie jar.

“Are those your mom’s cookies?” Olivia asks. Karin’s Christmas cookies were practically legendary back home in Washington. Olivia has missed them every year since Nick broke up with her.

Nick smiles. “Yeah, she sent me some a few days ago.” Olivia doesn’t bother pointing out that he’ll be home the next day. He holds the Tupperware out to Olivia. “D’you want one?”

“Is that even a question?” Olivia says, snatching the Tupperware. She slides onto the stool next to Nick at the counter, digging for a gingerbread cookie. Nick’s knee nudges hers. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever had. I thought I would die without ever having them again.”

Nick chuckles and gently slides the Tupperware away from Olivia. “That’s a little dramatic.” At Olivia’s skeptical look, he continues, “My mom loves you. She would make you cookies if you asked.” 

Olivia takes another bite of her cookie instead of responding. Olivia’s on her fourth cookie when Nick yawns. 

“Dude, go to bed,” Olivia tells him. Nick opens his mouth to protest again. “You’re the one driving back to Michigan tomorrow, and I’m obviously keeping you up. Go to bed.”

Nick rolls his eyes but gives in. “Fine, I’ll see you in the morning.”

The door to his bedroom is shut before Olivia can figure out what happened. 

Later, Olivia’s most of the way to sleep when Nick’s door creaks open again. Olivia hears Nick’s quiet footsteps as he creeps over to the couch Olivia’s laying on. She cracks her eyes open.

“Sorry,” Nick whispers. “I just wanted an extra blanket.” 

There’s four blankets Olivia isn’t using piled at the end of the couch. Nick carefully pulls one off. In the dim light, Olivia watches as he wraps it around his shoulders like a cape. She shuts her eyes again as Nick’s footsteps recede. 

“Liv?” Nick whispers. Olivia can barely hear him.

“What, Nick?” 

“I thought you hated me,” he says.

“I could never hate you,” Olivia murmurs sleepily. She’s asleep before Nick's door even shuts again. 

The next morning, Nick’s up early. Olivia groans and rolls over, burying her face in one of Nick’s throw pillows. She rolls back over when the scent of fresh eggs and toast reaches her nose.

“You made breakfast?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Nick replies, the duh implied. “Come over here, and eat while it’s still hot.”

Olivia reluctantly drags herself off the couch and takes her place at the counter next to Nick. Nick’s knee bumps hers again as he slides a plate towards her.

“No coffee?” Olivia jokes.

“We can stop for Starbucks before we hit the road.” 

For some reason, Olivia wasn’t expecting that answer. She can’t come up with a witty response, so she eats her breakfast in silence.

Nick clears both of their plates when they’ve finished, starts the dishwasher, wipes nonexistent crumbs off the countertop. Olivia looks around Nick’s apartment. It’s pretty much spotless, except for the nest of blankets Olivia left on the couch. Nick’s bags are packed and stacked next to Olivia’s by the front door. The apartment’s nice, but it doesn’t feel lived in. Olivia guesses it really isn’t much, since Nick’s been grinding down in Cleveland most of the season. 

“Ready?” Nick asks, jolting Olivia out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, sure, just lemme—” grab my bags, is what she was going to say, but Nick’s already hefting his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of Olivia’s suitcase. “Uh, yeah, let’s go.”

Nick leads the way back down to his car. Olivia watches as he tosses their bags in the trunk, then steps over to the passenger door to open it for Olivia. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he tosses his phone to Olivia. 

“Order yourself some Starbucks,” he says. “My order’s marked as a favorite, add that in, too.” 

Olivia sticks her tongue out at Nick as she unlocks his phone. “Like I would not order you something.”

She taps in her order while Nick drives to the nearest Starbucks. He makes a face when he hands Olivia her drink.

“How do you even drink that? Is there any coffee in there? Also, it’s iced, and it’s December.” Nick takes an appalled drink of his own hot coffee as Olivia sips her own very light, very sweet, and very iced coffee.

“Maybe you’re the one with shitty taste in coffee,” Olivia retorts, zero heat behind her words. When they were still in high school, neither of them drank coffee. Just another thing about Nick that changed without Olivia knowing.

Coffees in hand, they finally get on the road towards Michigan for real. Olivia had slept poorly on Nick’s couch, so she’s looking forward to dozing for a little while. Except, Nick chatters nervously for the first forty-five minutes of the drive. He even drowns out the Christmas playlist (her own) that Olivia cued up on his CarPlay. 

Olivia fights off a yawn. “Nick, you can just ask.”

Nick cuts himself off mid-sentence. “I don’t know what you mean.” Olivia gives him a flat look. Nick blushes and stares out the windshield instead of glancing over again. He sighs. “Why’d you and what’s-his-face break up?”

“Austin,” Olivia replies automatically. She notices Nick shake his head at her. She hesitates. “I thought he was going to propose this week,” she admits.

There’s a pause. “I don’t get it.”

“Austin told me that if I wanted a ring, I’d have to move to Ohio,” Olivia says. 

“What?” Nick asks. His immediate outrage is a little funny. “Liv, I’m sorry, that’s so shitty.” 

Olivia shrugs. “There was a fight about me wanting to stay in Michigan when I graduated a few years ago,” she says. “He never wanted to live in Detroit. I guess I sorta always knew this would happen, and I was just delaying the inevitable.” 

Nick clicks his tongue at her. “You love Michigan. Even in high school, you always talked about how you never wanted to leave.” 

Olivia can’t believe Nick remembers those conversations they had about the future. “I can’t believe you remember that,” she says.

Nick looks away from the highway for a moment to give Olivia a disbelieving look. “Why wouldn’t I remember that?” he asks.

Olivia doesn’t have a good response to that.

They’re both quiet for another few miles. 

“My turn,” Olivia asks, over the sound of The Carpenters playing on the car’s speakers. Nick makes a face, but doesn’t protest. “Why’d you break up with me?”

The question had been plaguing Olivia for years. She had thought she’d finally outrun it, but it followed her all the way to Nick’s car, all the way down I-75 towards Michigan. Maybe if she could get Nick to answer her now, she could finally truly move on. As soon as she could get out of this fucking car, that is. 

Nick sighs. “Liv, that’s not fair.”

“How is that ‘not fair’?” Olivia snaps. “You got to ask me a question, now I’m asking you.”

“Because I never liked that asshole you were dating, and I wanted to know what he did to break your heart.” 

“You never even met Austin!” Olivia says. 

“I didn’t need to,” Nick says. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. “He got in that fight at the football game, and let you get pushed around.” “Nick, oh my god,” Olivia laughs. “It was a game against Ohio, all kinds of shit gets started at them.”

“He never should have let you fall,” Nick argues.

“Dude, that was like four years ago, how are you still upset about this?”

“He never deserved you,” Nick says.

“You never even met him!” Olivia says again. “And why do you even care so much? You dumped me after graduation.” Nick winces. “Why’d you break up with me, Nick?” she asks again.

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” Nick says,

“Hold me back? From what?” Olivia asks, but Nick talks over her.

“You were going off to Ann Arbor, I wasn’t even going to college.”

Olivia scoffs. “Nick, you moved to Detroit. That’s, like, 45 minutes from Ann Arbor.” Nick shakes his head. “And you ended up at Michigan a few years later, anyway. And you’re literally in the NHL now!”

Nick sighs again. “You’re not getting it, Liv. I worked my ass off to get where I am. I walked on to the team at Michigan. I never should have made it all the way to the NHL, but people took chances on me. I didn’t want you waiting around on some kid who wasn’t even good enough to get a second look from anyone for years. Would you have really wanted to be a senior, dating some stupid sophomore?”

“I don’t know! You never gave me the chance to decide that for myself. I never cared about the hockey, Nick. I just really loved you,” Olivia says quietly. “Wait, we’re literally the same age. Just because you were a sophomore by credits doesn’t somehow make you two years younger than me.” “That’s what you focused on?” Nick asks, but he’s laughing. His face becomes serious again. “I wasn’t ready to start thinking about the future. I was just trying to hold onto hockey for as long as I could back then. I knew everyone expected us to settle down like everyone else in town does, but I couldn’t do that.”

“I did think we would get married one day,” Olivia admits.

“See!” Nick says. “I felt like everyone had this idea, this plan for us, but I wanted to make my own plans. I don’t know, I guess I got scared of the idea of my future being written by someone who wasn’t me.” 

Olivia looks out the window, at the dirty snow along the highway. She thinks she gets it. She had this idea of what a perfect life with Nick would have looked like, and when she didn’t get it, she tried to mold Austin into all the gaps in her life that Nick had left behind.

“We were just kids, Nick,” she says softly. 

Nick chuckles wryly. “And when have you ever known kids to be good at talking about big things?” he asks. 

Olivia has lost track of how long they’ve been driving. She’s not even really sure how far of a drive it is back to home, but Nick seems to know the way. His GPS isn’t even on. They lapse into silence for the duration of another song, then two.

Finally, Nick breaks the silence. “So, now what?”

Olivia huffs out a laugh and scrubs at her face. “Cry. Delete the Pinterest board I had for wedding planning.” 

Nick shoots her a sideways look. “People actually do that?”

Olivia laughs again. This time it’s more real. “Dude, I’ve been working on this board since we were in high school.”

Nick doesn’t respond to that, though his cheeks look a little pink. Olivia wonders if she went too far. Nick had just admitted he had been scared off by everyone basically planning their wedding when they were eighteen. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize, to take it back somehow, when Nick speaks again instead.

“We’ve still got a ways ahead of us, I can shut up so you can get some rest if you want.”

Although Olivia had been planning on napping in the car when this little road trip started, Nick’s sentence makes her sit up straighter. 

“Nicholas, why would I want you to shut up?”

“I don’t know how you don’t hate me, Liv.”

Olivia could smack him. “Would you stop that? I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate you, dumbass.”

“But I broke your heart—”

“When we were eighteen! I was never angry at you, Nick, just confused, really.”

Nick falls silent. He’s quiet for long enough that Olivia does start to doze off.

“I missed you more than I hated you,” she whispers before she falls asleep. 

It takes Olivia a moment to reorient herself when she wakes up again. The car has stopped. Nick’s still sitting beside her in the driver’s seat, Christmas playlist still playing over the car’s speakers. Olivia looks blearily out the passenger window.

“This isn’t my house, Nick,” she says warily.

Nick gives her a sheepish look as he pushes open his car door, at the same time the Blankenburgs’ front door opens, and Karin appears.

“My mom wanted to see you,” he says. 

Olivia huffs and pushes her car door open, too. Karin is still standing on the front porch. Nick makes his way up the stairs, but his mom is focused on Olivia as she trails after him.

She reaches to pull Olivia into a hug. “Oh, Livvy, it’s so good to see you.”

Olivia stiffens, but hugs Karin back after a moment. “You too, Mrs. B.” She probably hasn’t seen Nick’s mom since before they broke up. “Merry Christmas.”

“Olivia, you know you can call me Karin.”

Olivia is physically incapable of that, actually, but she grins at Karin, anyway. 

Nick reappears on the front porch. Olivia hadn’t realized he’d stepped inside, but the door wafts all kinds of delicious smells from inside the Blankenburgs’ house as it swings shut. Olivia’s stomach grumbles. They must have driven through lunch.

“Okay, Mom, you got to say hi,” Nick says, stepping to Olivia’s side. “We should let Liv go, I’m sure she wants to see her own family.”

“Oh, they’re already all inside! So are your brother and sister, we’ve just been waiting on you two!” 

“What?” Nick and Olivia ask in unison. They share a bewildered look.

“Well, when you told me you were bringing Livvy home, I just invited her family over for brunch.” Nick and Olivia must still look confused, because she continues, “You know I always make too much food. And right now it’s all getting cold, so c’mon!”

Karin leaves Nick and Olivia on the porch.

Olivia looks sideways at Nick. “D’you think she made cinnamon rolls?” Olivia used to love it when she was allowed to sleep over on Saturday nights (in Katrina’s old room, while Nick slept in his own) and Karin made them fresh cinnamon rolls Sunday morning. 

Nick rolls his eyes, but he grins at Olivia. “All you care about is my mother’s cooking, huh?”

He pulls open the door for Olivia, still grinning. Olivia elbows him as she slips through the front door. She follows the smell of food and sound of laughter down the hall to the Blankenburgs’ formal dining room, Nick trailing after her. Every inch of the house is decked out in Karin’s Christmas decorations, and the dining room is no exception. The only thing Olivia is really focused on, though, is the table, piled high with food, and the two empty chairs at one end that are clearly meant for Nick and Olivia. They share another look, but everyone is waiting for them, so they take their seats. 

Brunch is great, if a little awkward. Nick’s brother and his girlfriend are home, so are Katrina and her husband. It’s nice to catch up with them, in between Karin grilling Olivia on her life over the last seven years. Karin’s cooking is as good as Olivia remembers it. She eats two cinnamon rolls. 

Olivia is in the middle of cuddling Katrina’s little boy when Karin says, “Oh, Livvy, it was such a surprise when Nick told me he was bringing you home. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me you two got back together!”

Nick and Olivia say, “Oh, we’re not—” at the same time Olivia’s mom says, “No, Olivia’s been with Austin, oh, what, six years now?”

An awkward silence falls over the table. Olivia realizes she probably should have told her mom the real reason she was coming home early from Ohio. Nick clears his throat as Olivia pushes her chair back from the table. She hands Katrina her squirming toddler back. 

“Mom,” Nick starts, but Olivia cuts him off.

“You know, Mrs. B, thank you so much for having us all over, but I’m pretty tired. Nick’s couch isn’t the most comfortable to sleep on.”

Nick shoves his chair back, too. “I’ll take you back home, Liv. I’ve still got your bags in my car, anyway.”

Karin stands, too. The dining room suddenly feels too small. She gently takes Olivia by the elbow. “Here, Livvy, let me pack up some leftovers for you.” Olivia follows her to the kitchen.

She overhears Katrina hiss, “You made her sleep on the couch?” as they head into the kitchen. Olivia waits obediently while Karin plies her with Tupperwares of leftovers and Christmas cookies. 

“It really was nice to see you, Livvy,” Karin whispers. “You know you’re always welcome here, remember.” She looks like she wants to say something else, or maybe hug Olivia, but Olivia’s too busy trying not to drop anything. 

“Thanks, Mrs. B,” Olivia whispers back. 

Arms full of food, Olivia bypasses the still-awkwardly silent dining room and sneaks down the hallway to where Nick is waiting for her by the front door. He looks upset, still, but his face relaxes when he sees Olivia. 

“Geez, did my mom give you enough leftovers?” he asks. He takes a few of the Tupperware containers off the top of the stack. When Olivia doesn’t crack a smile at his teasing, his face morphs back into something like concern. “Liv, you okay?” he asks.

Olivia forces a smile. “Yeah, just ready to go home.”

It starts to snow again on the way back to Olivia’s childhood home. Nick doesn’t need a GPS to get there. He pulls into the driveway and puts his car in park. Neither of them make any move to get out of the car. Nick turns the radio off and turns to face Olivia.

“Liv, you okay?” Nicks asks again. 

For the first time since she stood on the freezing curb the night before, Olivia starts to cry. 

“No, I don’t know—” She takes a shaky breath. “When we were together, I used to think I had my whole life figured out, then we broke up, and I was so lost. I started dating Austin, and I could finally see a plan for the future again, and I clung to that idea of a perfect happily ever after with him for so long, but it was all just a lie, and now I’m 26 and single again—”

“Hold on,” Nick interrupts, “26 is not that old, Liv, oh my God.” He sounds like he’s about to laugh, which makes Olivia giggle, too.

“I thought I was going to be married to you by now!” she protests. 

To her surprise, Nick doesn’t shut down. Instead, he laughs for real. “Liv, if you’d married me, you’d still end up living in Ohio, babe.”

Olivia makes a face. Nick laughs harder. “Okay, but, like—” She doesn’t have a good ending to that sentence. In a desperate attempt to avoid Nick’s knowing gaze, she flings open the passenger door and dashes up the front steps to the door.

She distantly hears Nick swear and throw his car door open as well. He runs up the stairs after her, putting himself between Olivia and the door. 

“But what, Liv?” he asks, breathless.

“Nick, I don’t know.” She does know. “I think a part of me always knew Austin wasn’t the right person. I guess, maybe, Ohio wouldn’t be too bad with the right person.”

It’s freezing outside. Nick’s warm breath fans across Olivia’s chilled cheeks. 

“And who’s the right person, Liv?” Olivia doesn’t answer, refuses to meet Nick’s eyes. Nick huffs. He captures Olivia’s chin gently between his finger and thumb and tilts her chin up until she has no choice but to look him in the face. “How ‘bout this: do you think we could try again, Olivia?” he asks. 

Olivia swallows hard. “I don’t know, Nick—”

Olivia thinks about desperately calling Nick the night before when she needed help. Thinks about the blanket her mom made him years ago still laying on his bed every night. Thinks about brunch at the Blankenburgs’, the inexplicable feeling of home, there with her family and Nick’s. 

Thinks about Nick, standing in front of her now.

“They say long-distance can be pretty hard, Blankenburg,” Olivia says. 

Nick scoffs, eyes warm. “Who cares what they say?” Nick’s leaning in now. “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

Olivia laughs and winds her arms around Nick’s neck. “I guess I’ll allow it,” she teases.

“Fuck’s sake,” Nick says under his breath. “You guess.” Then he’s kissing Olivia, both hands tight on her hips, fierce and sweet at the same time, years of unspoken words passing between them.

Olivia makes herself pull away. Nick pouts at her. “Knowing our parents when they get together, we probably have a few hours until Mom and Dad come home.” Nick grins, already knowing what Olivia’s going to say next. “Would you like to come inside?”

Nick kisses Olivia again, quick, before dashing off the front porch to his car. Olivia watches as he hurriedly pulls her bags out of the trunk. 

“Liv, I thought you’d never ask.”

Olivia watches, a smile on her face, as Nick excitedly makes his way back to her. Long-distance may be hard, but with Nick, Olivia thinks it’ll be worth it. Besides, everyone always says that “home is where the heart is,” right? Olivia thinks home is wherever Nick Blankenburg is. And maybe one day, he’ll sign a contract with Detroit, and they’ll both get to come back home to Michigan.

[w2soneshots]

Guernsey -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: none.

summary: you meet Harry’s parents for the first time.

notes: I finally wrote something I like and it wasn’t a request🫢. I hope you enjoy lovelys🫶🏼.

Liked by wroetoshaw and 501,348 others

y/username: umm hey😉

Tagged: @faithloisak @eatsides

-comments-

faithloisak: beautiful beautiful girl

-> y/username: 💋💋

y/nfanpage21: the last pic!!🤭

eatsides: supportive queen🍗❤️

user15327094: OMFG IS THAT W2S??

user89130243: herb what r u doin here

Me and Harry have been together for almost five months now. We met through instagram, he followed me, liked my posts, then finally sent me a message. Since then we've been inseparable, texting every day and it feels like I practically live in his apartment since he doesn't want me to leave, saying “no… don’t go, just one more night?” Along with his best puppy dog eyes. I get along great with Harry's friends, especially Tobi since he was so welcoming. After meeting Faith at Tobi's birthday party we became quite close and have had many great conversations. I feel as though I can always go to her if I need someone to speak to or if I just need some advice.

Today Harry's talking me to Guernsey to meet his family for the first time. We woke up early and threw on a comfy outfit then headed to the airport. When we arrived we went through security and waited around for a little while before actually getting onto the plane. After just over an hour we were landing in Guernsey.

y/username just posted a new story!

"Oh my god, this place is fucking beautiful." I stared out the plane window in awe of the island. Harry chuckled at my giddiness. I'm so excited to meet his family, unfortunately Rosie is at uni and Josh is on holiday so ill have to wait a little longer to meet them but ill get to see his parents. He's met mine multiple times but our schedules have never been clear enough to spend a weekend here, so when we got the chance we immediately booked the flights.

Once we'd collected our bags and were making our way out of the airport we spotted Harry's dad stood leaning against his car. I took a deep breath. "You have nothing to worry about. They're gonna love you." Harry whispered into my ear. I looked up at him "ok let's go."

"Hello, nice to finally meet you. I'm Harry's dad but you can call me Adrian." He spoke in a very cheery voice. My nerves instantly calmed. "Hi, I'm y/n." I introduced myself. "Yes I know. Harry don't stop talking about you." He chuckled. I looked over to Harry, his face was bright red and he'd gotten all embarrassed. "Does he now?" I teased him. Adrian laughed once again "well we better get going, Sue is desperate to meet you."

When we arrived outside of Harry's home my jaw dropped, it's practically a mansion. We hopped out of the car, Adrian and Harry grabbed our bags and I headed inside to introduce myself to his mum. Harry told me that the door was unlocked so I pressed down the handle and pushed it open. I was immediately bombarded by Herb, who seemed very excited to see me. I'd spent quite a lot of time with the dog since Harry had brought him with him back to London a few times.

"Hello! Come on in." Harry's mum Sue pulled me into a hug. I smiled "It's so nice to meet you." She walked me through into the kitchen "Are you hungry? I just made lunch." My eyes lit up "I'm starving and that smells amazing!" She smiled "great." Harry burst into the room seconds later and came to stand next to me. "You hungry Harry?" His mum asked. Harry nodded. "Alright, food will be ready in ten. Why don't you to go and get settled in." Harry gave me a quick toor of the house then showed me to his room. "See I told you they'd love you."

After lunch Harry wanted to take me on a walk to show me one of his favourite places on the island. So we put on our coats and shoes then he put a harness on Herb. "Come on let's go, Herbert!" Harry shouted and seconds later Herb came running towards us. I opened the door. "So where are we going?" I asked as we walked down the street. "My favourite beach." He replied.

"Wow, I can't believe you grew up somewhere like this." I admired the waves as Herb played in the sand. "I didn't appreciate it enough when I lived here, but now that I don't come here as often I realised how much I miss it," Harry said without breaking eye contact with the view. I placed my head on his shoulder and let out a breath. "I love you." "I love you too Haz."

y/username

Liked by faithloisak and 702,539 others

y/username: weekend in paradise💗

Tagged: @wroetoshaw

-comments-

taliamar: pink is your colour🌸

-> y/username: 🤗

wroetoshaw: ❤️🐶

y/nfanpage21: omg there so cute together!

user80163294: she actually posted harry🙊

user28945110: she met the fam they're definitely serious

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 4 || 641 Words || Read on Ao3 —

4 October 1985

Harry bounces between his parents, one hand clasped in each of theirs as they walk through the streets of Hogsmeade. “Can we go to Honeydukes after lunch?” he asks eagerly, grinning a gap-toothed smile.

“How else would we round out our Hogsmeade trip?” James asks, lifting his arm up a bit and causing Harry to kick and giggle.

“We should stock up on Peppermint Quills for the holidays,” Lily grins down at him, stepping through the door to the Three Broomsticks that James holds open for them.

“Happy birthday!” Harry shouts into the room, and Lily and James both look up to where Minerva McGonagall sits at a booth not too far from the entrance. A serene smile spreads across her face as the small family makes its way towards her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she nods, accepting the hug he offers her as his parents echo his sentiments before sliding into the booth across from her.

“I didn’t see many students milling around,” Lily muses, craning her head to look out the window. “Is it not a Hogsmeade weekend?”

“The first Hogsmeade trip for students is next weekend.”

“Well thank you for stepping out of the castle to meet us,” James says with a smile. “You know how much I hate to cause you trouble.”

This earns a laugh from the older woman, whose brows raise in interest as James slides a large envelope across the table.

“I know I could’ve owled it, but there’s something more satisfying about handing it to you directly.” He watches as she opens it and scans the first page. “I’ve been focusing on the intersection between Transfiguration and Charms theory the last few years, and would love to discuss it with you. Maybe Filius, too, if you think there’s enough merit there.”

“We brought a real present for you, too!” Harry chimes in, pushing a small, wrapped box across the table.

“My, well…” Minerva’s eyes flit between the box and the research in her hand, before settling on the small boy in front of her. “Thank you for the gift. All of you,” she adds, gaze wandering up to the parents. It lingers there, shifting from Lily to James and back again, and something in her eyes softens as she looks at them—two of her pupils, years out of school, with a horrible war behind them and a happy family.

“The thesis on this looks good, Potter,” she acknowledges, shaking the parchment and herself out of her nostalgic stupor. “Term is in full swing right now and I want to give this the proper attention. I likely won’t get to it until the students start revising for end-of-term exams—perhaps we can discuss it in detail around the holidays once I’ve had a chance to read?”

James nods. “Of course, at your pace.”

“We’d love to have you over to the cottage for some Christmas tea again,” Lily invites, raking her fingers through Harry’s hair as he fidgets in his seat.

“I’d like that,” Minerva nods, eyes darting down to the young boy. “Besides, I imagine I should be enjoying all my winter breaks while I can. With this one starting Hogwarts in a few years, I’m sure I’ll be needed at the castle over the holidays to undo his messes, if he’s anything like his father.”

A warm grin breaks out on Lily’s face as she looks down at Harry. “He’s not that much of a troublemaker. I like to think there’s a good bit of me in there.” She looks across at her old professor as her hands slip to cover Harry’s ears. “Though we do have to contend with the Sirius influence,” she adds in an exaggerated whisper.

This earns a laugh from both Minerva and James as Madame Rosmerta sweeps up to the table to ask for their order, and the birthday lunch truly begins.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Playing Pretend (Part 2)

Drinks before dinner get uncomfortable- and exciting- quickly.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.1k words

Warnings: Language, alcohol, a smidge of angst because that's what happens when your sister marries your ex

Series Masterlist

“I thought the big fancy dinner was tomorrow,” Roy mumbled as he pulled a dress shirt out of his suitcase and held it up to check for wrinkles.

After settling into the room you’d be sharing for the weekend, the two of you had spent about an hour laying on the bed next to each other and reading the books you’d each brought before you informed him that it was time to get ready for dinner.

“Oh, it is,” you agreed, pulling out a dress from your own luggage. “Tonight’s just family. My parents and sisters, Jim’s parents.” You paused, looking up at Roy. “You, apparently.”

Roy rolled his eyes and tugged off the Richmond sweater he’d worn on the drive. You blushed, averting your eyes from his wooly chest to focus on the dress in your hands. “Fucking rich people,” he muttered.

A scoff escaped your lips. “Roy, you’re rich,” you reminded him. “You drive a car that costs more than I make in a year.”

“Hey, you told me you like that car.” He buttoned up his shirt and posed. “How do I look?”

You couldn’t help but melt a little as you looked at him in his black dress shirt and equally black jeans. “Perfect.” Realizing you’d been staring for a moment too long, you tightened your grip on your dress. “Be right back.” You stepped into the bathroom attached to the room you’d be sharing with Roy- something you tried not to think too hard about- and changed into the dress. Frustration crossed your mind when you realized you couldn’t quite reach the zipper. “Roy!” you called.

“What?” came his gruff voice.

You poked your head back into the bedroom. “Can you help me with the zipper?”

An expression you couldn’t quite read crossed his face. “Can’t you, I dunno, go ask your mum or your sister to help you?”

“Come on, Roy.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. This is a boyfriend job. How would it look if I go ask my mum to help me with my dress when you’re right there?”

“Fine, fine.” He crossed the room and spun you around, so your back was to him. You were sure you were imagining the shaky breath he let out and the trembling you felt as he slowly zipped up your dress. Roy had no reason to be nervous; you were just the silly kid who used to beg him to play Barbies with you and his sister.

But still, the domesticity of the moment made your heart sing a little.

“Thank you,” you hummed. You slipped on your shoes and gave a little spin. “Now, how do I look?”

His face went all soft, your favorite look in the world. “Perfect.” He held out his hand. “Ready?”

With a deep breath, you took his hand, not sure if you were more anxious about the first event of the weekend or the simple act of holding Roy Kent’s hand. Maybe a bit of both.

The walk to the drawing room felt weirdly familiar; you’d been here many times with Jim, for weddings and anniversaries and birthdays and holidays and just-for-fun. A sad part of you wondered how many times Lauren had been here. An even sadder part of you realized that she was probably sleeping in the same room you used to sleep in.

As if he could feel the sudden pang in your heart, Roy gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’m probably going to repeat myself all fucking weekend,” he whispered, “but I’m right here. I’ve got you. Don’t you fucking forget that.”

Some of the sharp pain in your chest evaporated as you squeezed back. “I know, Roy.”  

“Roy! Darling!”

As soon as you stepped into the drawing room, you mother made a beeline for the two of you, throwing her arms around Roy. Your dad followed behind, eyebrows slightly raised as he gave you a small hug and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Hello,” Roy said, genuine cheer in his voice as your mother released him. He shook your dad’s hand warmly. “Hope I’m not intruding on the weekend.”

Your mum shook her head “Absolutely not. You’re always welcome with us, you know that, dear. Especially-” She shot you a look. “-if what we hear about you and our little duckling is true?”

Roy wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to himself. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s grand,” you dad assured him. “Always had a good feeling about the two of you.” He gestured towards the room. “Come on in, we’re doing the whole cocktails before dinner thing.” Your dad wrinkled his nose at you; even when you dated Jim, he was always uncomfortable with how posh Jim’s family was. However, he never said no to the chance to drink good alcohol, as evidenced by the glass in his hand.

Roy guided you to one of the elegant couches, tenderly placing a hand on your knee once you were seated beside him. Despite your agony surrounding this weekend, part of you hoped it would never end, if only so you could always have all this attention and affection from Roy.

As if determined to ruin any bit of happiness you got this dreadful weekend, your sister and Jim appeared, drinks in hand. Lauren had that plastic smile you knew she’d be wearing for the next three days.

“You two get that alone time?” she teased, shooting you a mocking wink.

You just smiled and leaned closer to Roy, treating him like the lifesaver he was. He planted a soft kiss in your hair that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Lauren,” he hummed, raising those thick eyebrows that you loved.

“Fathers prefer no kissing,” your dad chimed in with a dry chuckle. “But I can make an exception for Roy.”

Roy’s smile widened. “Appreciate it,” he laughed. He loved the way your dad treated him; even when you dated Jim, your dad treated Roy like a son. His sister had even confided in him that it was a point of contention in your relationship, what with your dad never being as warm with Jim.

Gripping his drink rather tightly, Jim gestured between the two of you. “Alright, so I got interrupted earlier. How’d this happen?”

Shit. You’d forgotten to get your story straight with Roy. The two of you had spent the whole drive up chatting about childhood memories, movies you wanted to show each other, stories from work, and even one enthusiastic duet of You Belong With Me when it came on the road trip playlist you’d had blasting from your phone. It hadn’t occurred to you to make sure the two of you knew what to say when everyone inevitably wanted to know about your “relationship”.

You prayed only Roy could see the panic in your eyes as you looked up at him. “D’you want to tell the story?” you offered.

He didn’t skip a beat. “Well, about what, two months ago, babe?” He looked down at you, and you quickly nodded in agreement. “We were hanging out, and my sister had canceled so it was just us. I took over kebabs, and we were watching His Girl Friday, this one’s favorite.”

Everything he’d said so far was true; the three of you were supposed to hang out, but Roy’s sister had backed out at the last second, so Roy came over anyway. And he’d claimed not to care what movie you watched, so you put on an old Cary Grant movie that you’d seen a million times (and Roy had been forced to watch about half a million times). It had been a perfect night, sitting next to Roy while Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell danced around their feelings before finally coming together.

Roy continued, “And I looked over and saw just how absolutely beautiful she looked, with the light from the television glowing on her face and that dreamy expression she gets when she watches old movies.” He looked down, all bashfulness, before turning his gaze to you. You were amazed by his acting. “And I just fucking asked if I could kiss her, and she said yes. So, I leaned over and…”

It was the kiss you’d waited your whole life for. His hand came up to tenderly lift your chin, tilting your face to his. His barely parted lips were soft, gentle, his beard just barely tickling your skin. Every daydream you’d ever had about Roy Kent was nothing compared to the tiny kiss that ended far too soon.

Bashfulness reappeared on Roy’s face as he cleared his throat, remembering all the eyes on the two of you. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled. “We’re still in that lovey-dovey phase where we can’t keep our hands off each other and make everyone around us want to get violently ill.” His eyes focused icily on Jim. “You remember that, don’t you Jim?

Jim nearly choked on his drink.

“With Lauren,” Roy clarified, nodding towards your sister, whose face was twisted in annoyance. “How’d you two kids meet anyway?”

“Why don’t I get you a drink, Roy?” Jim offered quickly, his face void of all color. “Beer?”

Roy’s hand was back on your knee, gripping it a bit tighter now. “Whiskey. Neat.” He turned to you, his face softening. “And you?”

Jim shook his head. “I remember,” he assured you, shoving his own drink into Lauren’s hand and heading to the small bar off to one side of the room, the bar you remembered experimenting behind with Jim and his cousins once the older folks had gone to bed. You could still taste the disgusting combinations Jim had concocted for you to try. You could still hear the laughter that had filled the room as everyone took shots. You could still feel the sloppy kisses that tasted of expensive alcohol.

Sensing the tension oozing off of you, your parents excused themselves to go talk to Jim’s parents; they didn’t exactly need introductions, considering how many times they’d met while you were dating Jim.

Always perfect in her timing, your older sister, Jen, strolled into the room, shaking you out of your wistful reminiscing. She lit up when she saw the two of you and made a beeline for you, her husband, Paul, in tow.

“Well, well, well, what have we here? And there? And every-fucking-where?” she teased.

Roy laughed and stood, wrapping his arms around your older sister. “Hello, Jenny.” He turned his attention to your brother-in-law. “Paul, how the hell are you man?”

Paul shook Roy’s hand enthusiastically, the way he always did. “Great. Clearly you’re doing quite well yourself.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I owe your dad forty quid. I had figured the two of you’d be dancing around this thing for the rest of your lives.”

“Paul!” you gasped, smacking your brother-in-law’s arm playfully. Behind closed doors, he loved to tease you about your painfully obvious attraction to Roy.

“I knew you two’d get together eventually,” Jen bragged, giving you a squeeze before you resumed your seats. “I mean, come on, we all could see the way you look at each other. Someone was bound to crack eventually.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned close to Roy, whose arm rested casually around your shoulders. Lauren watched you, eyes narrowed, as Jim returned. His hand shook slightly as he handed you your usual drink, the one he’d heard you order a million times. He handed Roy his whiskey and returned obediently to Lauren’s side, taking his own glass from her hand and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“We better go make sure things are ready for dinner,” Lauren hummed, grabbing Jim’s hand and pulling him out of the drawing room. You couldn’t help but notice Jim’s gaze lingering on you; neither could Roy, whose arm tightened around you.

Paul let out a low whistle. “This is going to be a tense weekend,” he muttered, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. He turned to Jen. “We should start taking bets about when this one and Jim come to blows, eh?”

Roy let out a dry chuckle and sipped his drink, relaxing slightly. “We wouldn’t want me making Lauren a widow before she’s even married, would we?”

“Play nice,” you warned him playfully, poking his nose. Fake-dating Roy felt deliciously natural. At least, when Jim and Lauren weren’t around.

“Yes, dear.” Roy’s voice was light and teasing. He leaned forward and kissed your lips again, a smidge deeper this time. The taste of his whiskey sent your head spinning. “Whatever you say.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

BabySister (2)

It been asked, it's here ladies and gentlemen!

I didn't realize that there is so much people asking for Leila's content but here it is!

You can find the requests here and here and here and here too

It's the part 2 of "Babysister*t that you can find here :) Please enjoy!

TW : Jealousy

______________________________________________________________

Despite the fact that your sister is aware of your relationship with Leila, you both decided not to make an official annoucement for now. Your friends are starting to be nicely made aware, but you’ve never been for the big announcements and you just talk about it to people who are interested in you and your personal life.

Shortly after the revelation, Jenni had to go back home. Two days later, it was Leila who had to return to Manchester and you are back alone in Barcelona. Even if you have friends and family here, their departures aren't easy. Especially Leila’s, of course. Seeing her go through airport security after one last long hug will probably break your heart every time.

Your week then went on, between work, a few drinks with your friends and the routine that settled back after the holidays. You regularly called Jenni during the week and every night you call Leila, but it’s clearly not enough compared to being able to see them every day while they’re in Barcelona.

"Is everything okay?" Leila asks you Friday night, having noticed your morale at half-mast.

"Yes" you answer simply by shrugging your shoulders.

Leila is preparing herself something to eat, you see her stop to look more closely at the screen of the phone. It's true that you are less local than usual, something that was obviously quickly noticed by Leila. She knows you well.

"I can tell when you’re lying, you know?"

You sigh softly, letting yourself go on your back on your bed. Of course she can.

"I’m fine. I miss you, that’s all"

"I miss you too, Cariño. What are you planning for your weekend?"

"Tomorrow we go out for a drink with my colleagues probably. And Sunday afternoon I watch my girlfriend play on TV"

"I like the second part, but the first? Will there be Aida?"

You roll your eyes when you hear her. You don’t understand why Leila reacts every time she hears that name, you already have had a few comments about her from your coffee with Jenni. All turned around a jealousy that absolutely doesn't deserve to exist.

"She wasn’t sure she could come" so you answer honestly.

"Perfect. Let her continue like this"

********

The following weekend is a little more glorious, since you have the opportunity to fly to Manchester to see Leila play. With Manchester City at home, you can enjoy Leila’s apartment while she’s at training before joining her at the stadium to be on time for the game. You’re happy to see her start the game, just like Laia Aleixandri, your compatriot.

The match ends with a draw and you quickly notice the disappointed look of Leila. She likes to win when you come to see her, probably to add pride.

"You were perfect" you smile at her when she comes up to you after the game.

"We didn't win" Leila objects but you smile tenderly while shrugging her shoulders.

"Not everyone can be as perfect as you."

An amused smile appears on her face when hearing you and you know that her morale isn't as low as you might have feared.

"The girls want to go out tonight, you want us to go too?"

You willingly accept, freeing Leila so that she can go to take a shower and warm up a little. You have time to go home for a while before going out again and you enjoy having her only for you for a few hours. You can imagine that once in the evening, things will be a little less easy.

You spend a little more time than usual in the bathroom getting ready, wishing to impress Leila. Now that your sister knows about you two, you’re a little less afraid of getting caught by someone and ending up on social media. And you can say just by seeing Leila’s look when you come out that it’s successful.

"Do you like it?" you ask Leila, looking down at your outfit.

"You are to die for" Leila assures you, eyes wide open.

You can't hold a small smile and you gladly accept her hug even if her hands are a little wandering on your body.

"Be good, we have to go" you remind her by laying a kiss on her cheek.

Despite a grunt of protest, Leila finally lets you go and drags you to the bottom of her building. Both planning to drink, you preferred to use an Uber rather than taking risks on your way back home. Maybe one of Leila’s teammates can take you home if she doesn’t drink, but you’ll have plenty of time to check in later.

Most of Leila’s teammates are already at the bar when you get there, your hand in Leila’s. You greet them or you greet them again, even if you are easier to communicate with those who speak Spanish. Your English is great actually and that's a good thing.

The evening goes well and you have a good time, dancing or just chatting and talking with the girls. After a long time of dancing on the dance floor, you went back to sit with Leila and other girls.

"I’m going to the bathroom, I’m coming back" Leila whispers in your ear before getting up.

You nod, smiling as you feel her letting a kiss on your neck before shifting your attention to your glass, to see that it's empty. Given the heat, you don't hesitate long before getting up to go get another one.

You take the time to ask those around you if they want something and you refuse the proposal of Laia who asks you nicely if you want her to accompany you, despite the arms of her boyfriend passed possessively around her.

The crowd is dense and you have to go around the dance floor to reach the bar. But you finally get there, leaning on the corner of the bar waiting patiently for someone to come and serve you. There are a lot of people so it takes time, but you wait while looking at your phone. When you feel a hand on your shoulder you turn around smiling, expecting to see Leila. But it's actually a smiling blonde you’re facing, who you absolutely don’t know. The surprise must be read on your face since she apologizes almost immediately.

"Hi! Sorry, but I saw you’ve been waiting for your drink for a while. I’m not working today, but I work here, so I’m gonna put you in front of the others."

"Uh… thank you?" you mumble.

You look at her hand still positioned on your shoulder but you are quickly turned away from it when she shouts what you imagine to be the name of one of the bartenders. And indeed, in two seconds he's facing you to take your order.

"You’re not from here, are you? I can hear your accent"

There was a time when her hand got off your shoulder while taking the order, but she continues to smile cheerfully at you.

"I am Spanish" you answer simply with a slight smile.

"Oh so great. I’ve never been to Spain, but I’d love to."

You smile at her and don’t know what to answer at that. Unlike your sister, you’ve never been very comfortable interacting with other people. It's always much better for you when you are introduced into a group by someone you completely trust. The way Jenni quickly attracted people’s sympathy has always been something you admired about her.

Fortunately, however, you are saved by the bartender who comes in front of you with the glass you asked him for.

"I’m offering it to you" says the blonde, watching you grab your purse, putting her hand on yours. "Sorry about the question, but you’re a lesbian, right?"

"What?"

The surprise can be seen on your face again in front of the question she just asked you. Yes you are and no you never hid it, but you don't understand why this question was asked to you now.

"Don’t take this the wrong way" continues your smiling interlocutor "But I don’t know, it’s just something I can see. You’re like very gay, right?"

"She’s also very in a relationship" makes an icy voice behind you.

You turn around and see Leila and her black eyes. She really doesn't seem happy about the situation but tries to remain cordial. And now that you see her behavior, you finally understand that the girl was hitting on you.

"And I’ll pay for her drink thanks."

Her voice is calm when she grabs her bank card and her other arm slips around your waist to squeeze you against her. But you know perfectly well that inside her, her brain must be exploding.

"Lei" you whisper to try to get her attention.

Talking normally would have been enough, given the ambient noise, but you especially wanted to prevent the blonde from hearing you. You study Leila’s gaze at length when she puts it on you. You don’t have a lot of time together this weekend and you really don’t want to waste time arguing.

But before you have time to draw conclusions, her payment is accepted and she leads you to the table you left a few minutes ago. It's now almost empty, there is in truth only Laia and her boyfriend who discuss by looking tenderly the other in the eyes, probably forgetting the rest of the world. Moreover, Leila chose to sit opposite them.

"I told her not to leave you alone" Leila groans, glancing at Laia.

"I told her I didn’t need her to come" you explain, not wanting her to blame Laia.

"Well, she shouldn’t have listened to you" said the brunette, raising her voice.

"Leila, please"

You give her your best little sad puppy look by laying your hand on her knee. Leila is looking at you and it seems to work even better than you had hoped. She finally sighs softly and you take the opportunity to lean against her, kissing her elbow.

"That’s exactly why I don’t like it when you go out without me. It already happens when we are together, I prefer not imagine what happens when you're alone"

"Believe it or not, this kind of situation only happens when I’m with you. It never happens in Spain, I guess people are more used to the Latin charm there" you smile softly.

"Maybe it’s not a good idea that I suggest you come and live here then"

You freeze suddenly, your brain recording what she just said. You take off from her to observe her, falling face to face with her amused smile.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. My contract is coming to an end, and I don’t know where I’m gonna go next, but I don’t think you’re gonna have a hard time finding work around here for some months. And even if you don’t, you don’t have to spend a dime since I’ll be there. Now that Jenni knows, it makes things less complicated, no?"

You can’t help but smile softly as you imagine Jenni’s face when you will announce her that you're leaving Barcelona to join Leila in Manchester. You know your parents aren’t going to be against it, you’ve been living alone for a long time now. And anyway, you’re an adult and vaccinated.

"What do you think?" Leila asks after you’ve been quiet for a few seconds.

"I’d say yes, but you said it wasn’t a good idea" you joked mischievously.

But the joke doesn't seem to be Leila’s taste since, after pouting, she imprisons your lips with hers for a long and tender kiss.

"Come and live with me" Leila whispers against your lips after your kiss.

"I’d love to" you answer with a smile.

This will probably require a lot of adjustments, but you don't hesitate a single second. You know Leila won’t be against you going back to Barcelona whenever you feel the need. But the idea of waking up every day at his side is already filling you with happiness.

[wreckedandpolemic]

DAD!MATTY THOUGHT OF THE DAY!!!

Girlie going away for a little trip with Charli, so Matty is looking after baba for four whole days!!!

And it’s just him looking after them and letting them sleep in Matty and Girlies shared bed when they get fussy 😭😭😭😭

i’m not even lying i felt myself well up reading this it’s so CUTE… you have a sweet little family breakfast (matty cooks, obvs) then you kiss your babies and your husband goodbye and hop into charli’s car. vera’s lower lip is already trembling, ever the mama’s girl, and if she cries, fiona cries. and if the twins cry, alanis pitches a fit for attention, and that’s a headache matty would rather nip in the bud lol.

right, my girls, he says, scooping vera up before she can cry. what do you girls get up to when dada’s not home, hmm? alanis cocks her head, and he can literally see her scheming, the expression so reminiscent of you that he almost laughs. mummy lets us have chocolate for dinner and stay up past bedtime, she says, smiling like butter wouldn’t melt even as she shoots vera a death glare when she opens her mouth. fiona agrees emphatically and he laughs.

matty shakes his head fondly, still idly bouncing vera in his arms. her thumb is in her mouth and she tucks her head into his shoulder, his heart melting as she cuddles in close. i don’t know about chocolate for dinner, but i’ll see what i can do about bedtime, okay? how’s that sound, baba? she considers it deeply, and then nods. d’you wanna build a fort in the lounge? watch some films? and he makes it so sweet and soft and cosy, all your expensive throw pillows and blankets spread out on the floor, string lights wrapped around the chairs propping up the sheets, and despite his bad back and dodgy knee, matty gets on the floor with them, climbs into the fort and lets them crawl over him to get comfy before he starts the movie. he snaps a couple of pictures to send to you of the girls all cuddled up together around him, all smiling faces and curly little heads, and it’s so adorable that you almost want to turn around and go home and snuggle your husband and daughters on the living room floor.

matty ends up with a spread of picky bits for lunch/dinner, popcorn and crisps and frozen pizza galore, and he does let them stay up past bedtime, carrying them carefully up to bed once they pass out in the lounge. of course, he has to deal with three grumpy five- and seven-year-olds who haven’t yet figured out how to sleep in at seven a.m. the next morning (after getting off the phone with you at two teehee) and regrets everything. still, he’s determined to muscle through and maintain his status as a fun dad through the weekend, so he drags himself out of bed and makes them smiley-face pancakes to start the day.

alanis is sulky, fiona sullen and vera withdrawn, and matty’s like you know you could just go back to bed? there’s no law that says you have to wake dada up by pulling on his hair and jumping on the bed at silly o’clock in the morning? but of course, there’s no reasoning with them, so he tries a different tactic, bundling them back into the fort and spinning a slow, soft record until they fall asleep. his sweet, energetic girls are back when they wake up, and fiona pads into the kitchen to find him and excitedly asks to play tea parties. he obliges happily, indulging in their fantasy game with gleeful yes-ands.

it’s only a few minutes after matty’s settled down to sleep himself that vera shuffles into your room. what is it, baba? it’s a school night, you need to get good rest, he murmurs, frowning when he hears her quiet little sniffle. i miss mummy, she says, i want her to kiss me goodnight or i can’t sleep.

oh, sweetheart. mummy’s still on holiday with auntie charli, but she’ll be back before you know it, promise. he lifts her from the floor and pulls her into bed with him, kisses the top of her head and brushes away her tears. i miss her too, baba. come here, darling, just go to sleep, you’ll be okay. she tucks herself into matty’s chest, eyes fluttering closed, and his heart swells.

and ugh i could go on and on and onnnn this is the cutest fucking thing in the world oh this dilf why is he not fathering my children right neow…

[allthemeniveloved]

It Will Come Back - Part 6

Summary: As the tension within the gang at Shady Belle grows heavier, you confront John about your fears for both of your safety and the dangerous path Dutch is leading everyone down.

wc: 2.9k

ao3 link

a/n: This is definitely a "bridge" chapter, so a little more fast paced and shorter, apologies if it feels rushed. I plan to write my ass off tonight and then schedule the next few chapters to be posted so I don't have to stress myself out going into the holiday weekend. Stay tuned! <3

The ride back to Clemens Point was peaceful, the calm of the weekend still lingering between you and John. The memories of quiet moments by the waterfall and the easy laughter you shared made the looming reality of camp feel distant, almost unreal. As you crossed into the clearing, the usual hum of the gang’s activity greeted you, but something felt different—tenser. John barely had time to dismount before Dutch appeared, striding toward him with purpose, his expression sharp and full of determination.

“There you are, Marston,” Dutch called, his tone brisk as his eyes flicked to you for the briefest of moments before locking onto John. “No time for rest. The Braithwaite mansion is ready to be hit, and we ride now.” Without waiting for a reply, Dutch clapped a hand on John’s shoulder, already pulling him toward the group of men gathering their weapons and mounts.

You stayed frozen for a moment, still holding Dahlia’s reins, your stomach twisting as you watched John get swept up into the chaos without so much as a chance to catch his breath. “Dutch, we just got back—” you started, but the older man waved you off with a dismissive gesture.

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” he said, not even looking back at you as he continued toward his horse. “We need every man for this.”

John gave you a fleeting glance, his lips parting like he wanted to say something, but the urgency of Dutch’s call left no time. Before you could even protest, he swung back into the saddle, sparing one last look at you as he joined the others.

A heavy weight settled in your chest as you stood there, helpless, watching him ride off into the trees with the rest of the gang. Your mind swirled with worry, the image of John charging into the unknown���into danger—haunting you. The thought of losing him, of something going wrong, made your stomach churn, and though you tried to steady your breathing, the fear wouldn’t leave. You paced anxiously near the edge of camp, your heart racing with every passing minute as you waited for any sign of their return, praying silently that he’d come back to you unscathed.

-

The acrid stench of smoke still clung to the air as the gang rode hard away from the burning Braithwaite mansion, its roaring flames lighting up the night like a second sun. The cries of Miss Braithwaite echoed faintly in the distance, mingling with the hoofbeats pounding through the muddy roads. The job had gone south fast—what was supposed to be a final blow to the family that had crossed the Van der Linde gang turned into a fiery spectacle that left no doubt the Pinkertons would be close behind.

“Damn it, Dutch,” Arthur muttered under his breath as he rode alongside John, his revolver still drawn and his eyes scanning the treeline for trouble. “You really think this was the smart play?”

Dutch, riding ahead with Hosea, twisted in his saddle, his face lit by the faint glow of the distant fire. “Sometimes, Arthur,” he said sharply, “you have to make a statement. The Braithwaites thought they could cross us, and now they’ll think twice before anyone else does.”

Arthur scoffed, but his attention shifted back to the road as he tucked his revolver into its holster. Riding just in front of Lenny, Bill, Javier, and Micah, John’s jaw was set tight, his gaze flicking back toward the mansion every so often to reassure himself that no one was following.

“They’re gonna be after us now,” John muttered, his voice low. “Law, Raiders, whoever’s left of the Braithwaites—we can’t stay at Clemens Point.”

“Dutch knows it,” Arthur replied, though the weight of the situation settled heavily on his chest.

-

The sound of hoofbeats breaking through the dense evening air pulled your attention to the edge of camp, and your heart leapt at the sight of John riding in with the others. His shirt was smeared with soot and dirt, his face streaked with sweat, but he was upright, whole, and alive. Relief flooded through you as you rushed toward him, barely giving him a chance to dismount before you threw your arms around him. He held you tightly, his breath warm against your hair as he murmured, “I’m alright, darlin’. I’m alright.” His voice was steady, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the weight of whatever had happened still clinging to him.

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your arms as he looked down at you, his expression softening at your worried gaze. “It got messy,” he admitted, his voice low but firm. “The Braithwaites didn’t go down easy. They had people everywhere, fightin’ to the bitter end. We torched the place, but… there was more blood than Dutch let on.” He glanced away for a moment, his jaw tightening, before his eyes met yours again. “But I’m here, and I ain’t hurt. Just… tired.” His thumb brushed lightly against your arm as he tried to ease your concern.

You hesitated, your voice soft but firm as you looked at him, worry etched across your face. “John, I don’t like the things Dutch has been askin’ y'all to do lately—it feels like we’re crossin’ lines we shouldn’t be. Inserting ourselves where we don't belong."

John sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you, his voice low but steady. “I get it, darlin’, but Dutch—he’s got a plan, a way outta all this mess, and we just gotta trust him a little longer.”

You nodded slowly, the tension in your chest tightening as you tried to meet John’s earnest gaze. “Alright,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended. “If that's what you think, I’ll follow your lead.” But even as the words left your lips, doubt crept into your mind, twisting uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. Something about Dutch’s plans had been unsettling you for weeks—the way his schemes seemed to grow riskier, more reckless, as if he were chasing something he couldn’t quite catch. You wanted to trust John, to believe in his unwavering faith, but deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this path was leading you both somewhere you might not come back from.

-

By the time the gang reached the swamp, the adrenaline from the night had worn thin, replaced by exhaustion and unease. The route was slow and winding, the horses uneasy as they picked their way through the misty bog. It wasn’t until the broken silhouette of Shady Belle appeared through the haze that Dutch finally signaled for everyone to stop.

“There it is,” he announced, his voice carrying through the night. “Our new home.”

You stared at the crumbling mansion, its windows broken and vines creeping up its sagging walls. The place reeked of abandonment and decay, its shadow looming over the swamp like a ghost of better days.

Arthur rode up beside Dutch, shaking his head. “This is what you had in mind? Looks more like a tomb than a camp.”

Dutch turned to him, a sharp glint in his eye. “It’s hidden, Arthur. Out of the way, quiet. We’ll make it work.”

John sighed heavily as he dismounted, helping you down before tying up the horses. “Don’t look like we’ve got much of a choice,” he muttered under his breath, his hand brushing against yours briefly as you both turned to assess the place.

Arthur pushed open a door, his revolver raised as he scanned the dim room.

“Squatters,” he muttered, his gaze falling on the scattered belongings and rotting food on the floor.

“Least they’re gone,” John said, nudging a broken chair aside with his boot.

“They didn’t leave it like this on their own,” you said quietly, pointing to the bloodstains smeared on the walls.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, but there was no time to dwell. Room by room, the gang secured the mansion, dragging debris outside and clearing a space for the camp.

By the time the sun began to rise, the worst of the mess had been dealt with, though the place still felt far from safe.

As everyone gathered near the front of the mansion, Dutch stood on the steps, his figure framed by the foggy dawn.

“This,” he said, his voice carrying over the group, “is not what I’d call ideal. But it’s what we have—for now. We’ll rebuild here, lay low, and plan our next move. They may think they’ve pushed us to the edge, but they’ll see… the Van der Linde gang isn’t so easily broken.”

The gang murmured their agreement, though the unease was palpable. Arthur stood off to the side, muttering something under his breath, while John lingered near you, his presence steady. As the others scattered to unpack and settle in, John turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “You alright?” he asked quietly, his tone softer now that the chaos had died down.

You nodded, though the exhaustion of the night weighed heavily on you. “I’ll be fine,” you said, offering a small smile.

His hand brushed against yours, a fleeting but reassuring touch. “We’ll make it work,” he said, echoing the sentiment Dutch had tried to inspire—but his words carried more weight, because they were for you alone.

This wasn’t home, but for now, it was all the gang had. And as you looked out at the dense swamp surrounding the mansion, the reality of the road ahead began to set in.

-

The move to Shady Belle brought no relief, only a deeper sense of unease that seemed to cling to the gang like the swamp’s heavy mist. The decaying mansion, with its creaking floors and eerie silence, felt more like a tomb than a refuge. Everyone was on edge, the relentless pressure of the Pinkertons and the gang’s dwindling fortunes gnawing at whatever unity remained. The turning point came with the grisly death of Kieran Duffy. When his mutilated body was dragged into camp, tied to his horse, it shattered what little sense of security anyone still clung to. The haunting image of Kieran’s lifeless form, a brutal message from the O’Driscolls, left the gang shaken. Even the usual bravado from the likes of Bill and Micah faltered in the face of such savagery, and for a brief moment, the infighting paused as the gang mourned one of their own, however quietly. But the fear lingered—if Kieran wasn’t safe, who was?

As the weeks dragged on, Dutch’s plans became more erratic, his once-charismatic confidence feeling more like desperation. Angelo Bronte’s dealings, initially promising a path to wealth and safety, proved only to deepen the gang’s entanglement with dangerous, powerful people. Bronte’s betrayal stung sharply—handing John, Arthur, and the others over to the law during a supposed “opportunity” shook Dutch’s trust in anyone outside the gang. But instead of reevaluating his approach, Dutch doubled down, spinning grandiose tales of salvation through bigger and riskier schemes. The trolley station job in Saint Denis found its way into Dutch's psyche, a chaotic, poorly executed heist that left innocent people dead and brought even more heat on the gang. Each step forward felt like walking deeper into quicksand, and the growing tension within the group became harder to ignore. Whispers of dissent began to ripple through camp, and even those loyal to Dutch couldn’t help but wonder if the man they followed was starting to lose his way.

John’s loyalty to Dutch had always been steadfast, but the cracks were beginning to show. Over the past few weeks, he’d watched Dutch grow more erratic, his plans becoming more reckless and his speeches less inspiring, more desperate. Late at night, as the swamp around Shady Belle hummed with the sounds of crickets and frogs, John found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, questioning everything. But even with his doubts, John clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, Dutch could still turn it all around.

It was you who broke the silence one evening as you sat together in the quiet of your shared room upstairs. “John,” you began, your voice quiet but firm, “we can’t keep living like this. Dutch isn’t the same, and he’s draggin’ us all down with him. We need to leave—while we still can.”

He looked at you sharply, his brow furrowing as his grip tightened on the edge of his seat. “Leave?” he repeated, his voice low and hesitant. “Where the hell would we even go? You think Dutch is just gonna let us walk away?”

You reached out, your hand resting on his arm as you met his uncertain gaze. “We don’t have to tell him, we don't have to tell anybody. We just go."

John’s jaw tightened as he looked at you, his voice low but sharp. “Ain’t you just a little ungrateful for what Dutch has given you? You’d still be back in that O'Driscoll hellhole if it weren’t for him, or worse."

You shot him a glare, your tone firm as you replied, “I’m not ungrateful, John, but what he gave me back then doesn’t excuse the things he’s doing now—you know that as well as I do, and it's insulting that you'd suggest otherwise!" Your cheeks were burning up, your heart rate erratic as your frustration threatens to boil over.

John exhaled sharply, his jaw still tight as he avoided your gaze. “Alright, fine—I shouldn’t’ve said it. But damn it, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

You reached for his hand, your voice trembling but full of conviction as you whispered, “John, I love you, and I can’t keep watching this life tear you apart—we can leave, start fresh, and finally have the future we deserve.” His eyes searched yours, torn between the weight of his loyalty and the hope shining in your words, as you tightened your grip, pleading softly, “Please, come with me.”

John froze, his breath hitching as your words sank in, his usual calm unraveling into something raw and uncertain. His eyes widened slightly, flicking between yours as if searching for a hint of jest, but all he found was sincerity. “You… want that? With me?” he asked, his voice low and tinged with disbelief, like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea. The vulnerability in his tone, so unlike his usual confidence, made your chest ache. You brought your hand up to run your fingers along his jaw, grounding truth into your answer.

He sighed, shaking his head as if trying to push away the thought, but you saw the flicker of agreement in his eyes. “I don’t know, darlin’. Leaving, it’s… dangerous.”

“Staying is dangerous,” you pressed gently, your voice softening. “And you know it.”

For a long moment, he sat there, his jaw working as he weighed your words. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained grim. “Alright,” he said quietly. “We’ll start thinkin’ on it. But if we’re gonna do this, we gotta be smart about it. No mistakes.”

You squeezed his arm, a glimmer of hope sparking in your chest despite the risk. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

John didn’t smile, but his hand covered yours, a silent promise that he’d see this through—for you to finally be free. “And for the record,” John murmured, his voice low and filled with his usual tender warmth as his hand moved to cup your cheek, “there’s nothin’ I want more than a future with you, too."

-

The next morning, you awoke to the faint rustle of camp already bustling around you, the space beside you in John’s bedroll cold and empty. A sinking feeling settled in your chest as Miss Grimshaw passed by and casually mentioned that John had ridden out early on one of Dutch’s errands, his return time uncertain.

Later, you sat on a stool in Sadie’s corner of the mansion, her fingers deftly weaving your hair into a neat braid as the smell of coffee from your mug and damp wood lingered in the air. “I just don’t know what we’re doing anymore,” you said quietly, breaking the silence, your voice barely rising above the soft creak of the old floorboards. “Every plan Dutch has feels like it’s getting us deeper into trouble. It’s like he’s trying to chase something we can’t catch, and I’m scared we’re all going to pay for it.” Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you stared out at the foggy swamp, your chest tight with unease.

Sadie hummed thoughtfully, her hands pausing for a moment before she resumed braiding. “You ain’t the only one who’s worried,” she said, her tone calm but sharp, like the edge of a blade. “Dutch talks big, but it don’t feel the same anymore, does it? Here’s the thing, though—you don’t owe him every piece of yourself. You got people who care about you, and you gotta think about them—and about you.” Her fingers moved steadily, the braid coming together as she spoke. “When the time comes, you do what you need to do, and don’t you feel bad about it for a second. Loyalty’s a fine thing, but it don’t mean throwin’ yourself into the fire for some bastard who’s already lost their way.” Her words hit you like a jolt of clarity, and as she tied off the braid, you couldn’t help but wonder if the time to make those choices was coming faster than you’d hoped.

[junekissed]

mistletoe inn

member — inn owner!seungcheol x reader genre — fluff word count — 1.2k warnings — none! notes — requested by anon — for my winter wonderland event: seuncheol + "mistletoe inn"

read part 2 here - minors dni

"last stop, the mistletoe inn!"

you step off the bus with your luggage and sigh, pulling out your phone to check your messages.

as a surprise, you’d decided to spend your winter vacation with your parents– the only problem was, they’d decided to spend their winter vacation in hawaii, leaving you alone in their quiet mountain town with no place to stay and no way to get back until your flight home next weekend.

it’s been years since you’ve been home for the holidays, so you’d planned on staying with them and having a nice, quiet week at your parent’s house. but with them out of the state and you with no way to get in, you’re forced to find a hotel to stay at for the next week.

but in a town as small and rural as theirs, there are no major hotels; just small, family-owned bed and breakfasts, squished between cafes and family restaurants.

after calling your mom for recommendations, you finally settle on mistletoe inn, a cute little place at the edge of town that’s been in the choi family for generations.

stepping inside, you smile at how well the inn lives up to its name. a sprig of mistletoe hangs from the doorway, and the front desk is decorated in floral green and red.

“be right with you!” a voice calls from the other room, and you peer across the hallway to see a man in a brown cardigan putting a stack of books on a shelf. the room is a small library, complete with floor to ceiling bookshelves and tall stained glass windows that cast colorful patterns across the area rug on the floor.

you stand in the entryway, shifting back and forth on your feet as you wait for him to finish.

“i’m seungcheol,” the man says with a smile, finally coming into the room and walking behind the desk. “what can i do for you?”

“do you have any rooms? for the next week?”

he grins. “sure do! you prefer upstairs or downstairs?” he says, flipping open a large, leather bound book.

“um, downstairs is fine,” you reply.

he asks a few more questions about your stay, and you answer them politely, trying to avoid staring at him as much as you can. he’s unfairly attractive, to say the very least; fluffy brown hair hangs around his eyes, and crinkle lines appear when he smiles.

he moves back around to the other side of the counter to grab your bags and take them to your room for you. you follow him down the hall, taking in the decorations and paintings hanging on the walls. you pause in front of what looks like a family photo, looking at a dozen tiny smiling faces, no older than teenagers.

"is this your family?" you ask, pointing.

seungcheol laughs. "kind of. they’re just my buddies, but they're like family to me."

"who owns the inn, then?"

he pauses to think. "well, technically i do. it's really my grandma’s, though; it was her dream to own a bed and breakfast. my mom took it over, and when she moved it got passed down to me.”

you nod and continue following him down the hall until he stops in front of a door. “this is you,” he says, twisting the doorknob to reveal a gorgeous, cozy-looking room. “breakfast is at 8. let me know if you have any questions.”

you watch him enter the room, hoisting your bags onto the chair with ease, muscles clearly bulging through his thin cardigan that you pretend not to notice.

screw it, you’re only here for a week. maybe now is finally your chance to have a holiday romance.

he’s just about to leave when you call out his name. “hey, seungcheol? i, um… i actually do have a question.”

he turns back and looks at you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waits for your question.

you shuffle your feet awkwardly, mentally building up the courage to ask him. “do you know any good cafes around here?”

he smiles. “yeah! there’s a little one down on fourth street that has a really great breakfast menu. and they have good coffee, too.”

“would you wanna go with me, maybe, like, tomorrow?” you ask. “if you’re not busy.”

he grins. maybe you’re imagining it, but you almost see his cheeks turn a little pinker. “tomorrow’s great!” he says.

he starts to walk away again, but at the last second he pauses and turns around. “i’m upstairs in room 13,” he adds. “if you… y’know, happen to find yourself in need of company.”

you feel your face heat, and you pray you aren’t misreading his intentions. “i’ll do that,” you answer with a smile.

he grins and shuts the door, leaving you alone to squeal in your room. maybe this disaster of a trip won’t be such a bad thing after all.

when you wake up, you’re surprised to see it’s still snowing- heavily. you call your parents to say good morning, then begin getting ready for the day.

a little while later you hear a knock on your door, and you get up to see who it is. opening the door reveals seungcheol, standing outside, scratching the back of his neck.

“hey, good morning!” you greet him, grinning.

“hey,” he says. “sorry it’s so early, but i needed to tell you something.”

“don’t worry, i was already up,” you giggle. “did something happen?” you ask, wondering why he’d be at your door barely past 8 in the morning.

he looks at his feet. “um, yeah,” he says. “the snow was really bad last night, and the whole town is snowed in. so we won’t be able to leave the inn today.”

“we’re… snowed in?”

“yeah,” he says apologetically. “i’m sorry if you had plans that got ruined.”

it’s disappointing, sure, but coming from the weather you’re used to at home, where it hasn’t snowed in decades, the thought of being snowed in is kind of exciting.

you smile. “actually, i don’t have any plans at all while i’m here, besides getting breakfast with you. but i’m fine if you wanna do something else today instead. if-if you’re not busy, that is.”

his face brightens. “i’m not working today, so… we could, cook something, if you want? i could show you some of my grandma’s christmas recipes.”

“we could have a picnic in my room, maybe?” you suggest.

“yeah, that would be nice,” he says, grinning. “sorry for bugging you so early on your first day, by the way. i swear we’re really nice to our guests here.”

you laugh. “i believe you. and it’s fine. i… like talking to you,” you admit shyly. even though you’ve known him for less than twenty four hours, you already get the feeling that he’s fun to talk to, and the more time you spend talking to him, the more you find yourself wanting to spend your entire trip with him.

your plans may have changed because of the weather, but you don’t doubt your trip will still be one of your best memories yet.

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[chibrary]

ARTICLE: "How to stay friends when you're F1 rivals" (Autosport Plus, 2019)

There's always one, isn't there? Just after you've comfortably settled into your seat, clicked the seatbelt across your lap, and are scanning for a decent film on the seat's screen in front of you - someone asks you to move.

It was on the late-night flight out of Bahrain after this year's race that F1 Racing became aware of such a scenario unfolding: passengers being politely asked if they wouldn't mind moving seats so two chums could take up seats together. The architects of this kerfuffle, the two friends who became reunited at 30,000 feet, were none other than Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc.

"We grew up together," explains Gasly. "We first met in 2005, when I was about nine and our parents became really close. As families, we spent holidays, staying on boats together in the south of France and five years later we became team-mates in karting. That year I probably spent more time with Charles than I did with my own parents.

"One of my first F1 memories was when I went to visit Charles at his Monaco home during the grand prix weekend. His parents' house was miles away from the track and yet I could hear the cars, 3-litre V10s, in morning practice. We were so far from the circuit - yet it was super impressive."

Perhaps it was no surprise Gasly was so enchanted by the sound of a racing engine, as he comes from a family steeped in motorsport. In fact, he is the third generation of Gasly to become successful on four wheels.

"I don't think a lot of people know this, but my grandmother, Yveline Gasly, was a karting champion. My father was also a racer in karting, rallying and in endurance events - and a French champion too. I also have four older brothers and three of them raced in karting.

"So, from three years of age, my mother used to take me in a buggy that she pushed around and I would make engine noises. From a very young age, I was always part of motorsport."

Gasly won the French karting championship in 2010 driving for Sodikart when he was team-mate to his younger friend Leclerc, who was runner-up that year. It is the pictures of the two of them together (aged 14 and 13) that Gasly has shared with F1 Racing this month.

"We had a really good fight for the championship and it was a good time testing on tracks together and racing," says Gasly. "Although I moved on to single-seaters before Charles, we still have a very close friendship as he's a nice, kind guy."

Fifteen years after they first met the pair find themselves racing together in Formula 1, and following their recent graduation to Red Bull and Ferrari, they could easily find themselves sharing a podium once more.

In the early part this year, it's been Leclerc that has made more of an impression with his assured performances for Ferrari, while Gasly admits he still isn't yet fully comfortable behind the wheel of the Red Bull RB15.

Pre-season was blighted by two large accidents in testing and it's taken him time to get up to speed.

"It's fair to say that I don't feel as comfortable in the Red Bull as I was in the Toro Rosso last year," concedes Gasly. "In a way I found a direction quickly in the Toro Rosso to get the best out of it.

"But I've found it's a bit tricky in the Red Bull. I don't feel I can have the input I want inside the cockpit - it's quite inconsistent. It doesn't do what I expect it to do in one corner and then in another it's different again. The main thing is trying to drive the car as I would like it to be."

The environment at Red Bull is notably pressurised, as former drivers and power unit suppliers will attest, but Gasly hopes he will be afforded the time to adapt. Before the season began, team boss Christian Horner admitted Gasly has been "elevated 12 months before we'd ideally like" but more recently suggested his confidence had been growing.

"He had a tough pre-season, with the two incidents in testing putting him on the back foot, but at each grand prix he's got stronger and stronger," says Horner.

"I think more seat time will be extremely beneficial to him and as we come back to circuits that he's more familiar with, I think we'll see him make further progress."

The continuity for Gasly after his first full season at Toro Rosso has been the Honda power unit - which Red Bull is using for the first time in 2019. In addition, his engine engineer has moved over from Faenza to Milton Keynes with him.

Gasly has a familiarity with the Japanese manufacturer's working practices and culture, learning much when he spent most of 2017 racing in Super Formula in Japan.

Gasly made a surprise F1 debut in Malaysia that year when Daniil Kvyat was dropped by Toro Rosso, and he was surprised again when he was promoted to Red Bull for this season when Daniel Ricciardo made his unexpected decision to quit the team for Renault.

"When [Red Bull consultant] Dr Marko called me I could not believe it," says Gasly about the turn of events last August that led to his drive at RBR.

"I was so sure he [Ricciardo] was going to stay at Red Bull. At first Marko told me they were going to take their time and look at the options for next year - he said to enjoy the summer break and to try and disconnect from everything.

"Of course, it's not possible when you have something like a Red Bull drive in your mind.
I was waiting and there were two clear options, either to stay at Toro Rosso or move to Red Bull. Then Helmut called me back about two weeks later to say they had decided to take me for this year and that they thought I was the best option for the team for 2019."

Gasly's promotion has pitched him as a direct rival to his old friend Leclerc, but don't expect their on-track duel to come between their friendship. Indeed, don't be surprised to see the pair holidaying together again this year.

"We still text a lot, although it's harder now with our agendas to organise things, but every year we try and plan a trip away together in the summer," says Gasly. "It didn't happen last year, but we'll try again this year."

Better make sure they book the plane tickets at the same time then, to avoid any more last-minute seat-swapping...

[sofasoap]

Interlude two : Everyone deserves happiness.

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( OC aka “Mini” MacTavish ) + Simon " Ghost " Riley

Summary: Bit of family moment. Family love all round. Takes place just after "Thank you for everything."

Warning: T to M theme, slight swearing. A/N : Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background, while you are there, go read her wonderful CoD fics too!

 “masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“.. You are like a brother to me and Johnny. This will always be your home. I want us to stay as friend. I am so sorry.”

“ I will not hurt her. I love her very much. In fact, I am here today to ask for permission for marriage in the future.” Your head is still reeling from all the events that happened over the Easter weekend at your parent's family farm. A "pre-proposal" and breaking someone else's heart at same time.

"OH I am so happy you are settling down, I was losing hope on your brother to bring me a grandchild or a partner. He is not getting any younger!" Your Ma gushes as you two were doing dishes.

" Ah Ma, you know Johnny... I doubt he can settle down anytime soon with his flirtatious nature.. Just let him be." You know Johnny too well. The Casanova. While he is very respectable towards his interest, you doubt your brother will find his ONE anytime soon. He seems to be enjoying all the attention. " He is just like your Da when he was younger.. Chasing all the girls around their skirt.." Your Da? the calm and quiet and serious Da? You can't imaging. You burst out in a fit of giggle.

"How about you Simon? Anyone caught your eyes or interest?" Your Ma being a nosy body. Ghost hand paused in the air putting the dishes away, and you two look at each other. ' Ma, don't be so nosy. I'll make sure to find a nice lady for my big brother here." you bump his bicep with your head after finishing rinsing the last dishes, trying to end the subject. Ghost smiled down at you. The pain is still there, but you can see the slight change. " I think your cousin Alex's older sister is still single the last time I was talking to her Ma during Christmas gathering..." " MA PLEASE." Both you and Ghost rolled eyes. "Fucken Steaming Jesus, why is it still so cold outside." You heard Johnny complaining as the men coming through the back door. Your Da and Johnny was showing König around the farm. " Languages Johnny!" " Sorry Ma." You put on a kettle to get ready to brew some tea. You push Simon to the table to sit down with the boys. " Go. Thanks for helping." Walking over to your.. boyfriend?fiancé? (technically he hasn't propose to you yet) you gave him a kiss on the cheek after waving him to bend down a little. Still not use to PDA , he blushes and pick your hand up and give it a kiss. " Hello teddy bear, how was the tour?" "Good.."

" I am surprised he is pretty knowledgeable how the farm runs." Your Da mentioned.

" I.. I use to spend summer holidays at my Oma and Opa's farm up in the mountain... I use to... um, still do help them with works when I go back...." "OH good, extra pair of hand to help around so Da won't work me overtime like a slave everytime I come back." " Don't be so lazy Johnny." You smack your brother on the head as you serve up tea and scones. " Be nice to your brother." " Yae be nice to me Mini." "I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!"

Ghost sits there, sipping on his tea and observe the family interaction. He feels like an outsider intruding this intimate moment. He longs to feel the love and bond that he never really get to experiences as a child. "Come on, Simon, help me out here. She's being nasty to me." " You asked for it." Taking another sip of tea, Ghost shows absolutely no sympathy towards Soap. " See? Even he agrees." you stick your tongue out.

" You should hear him in action. Wouldn't shut up over the com."

" Pahh. this crabbit is even worse. The bad jokes I had to endure." " ... I .. I think those jokes are funny.. " König pips up timidly.

" Three to one Johnny." You fold your arm across the chest and puffed. Ghost is going to miss all this when life goes back to normal.

" Got everything?" You look around your bedroom, checking for anything you forgot to pack. "I think... So." " Alright let's go." König picks up both of your luggages and heading towards the front door. Simon and Johnny already there at the front, your Ma was in deep talk with Simon while your Da and Johnny was checking something out on the phone beside them. You see Simon listening intensely to what your Ma had to say, as she has serious expression on her face and patting his hand makes you wonder what they were talking about. Finally she pulls him down for a hug which Simon returns with slight hesitance. The boys heading back to work immediately for next mission, you had to say goodbye to all three of them before you leaving on different flight, back to London while they flying over to the continent. You tearfully say your farewell to König, as is everytime for long distance relationship, saying goodbye was never easy. He promise to visit you again as soon as possible, with even prospect of visiting his family in Austria and show you around his grandparents' farm. König glancing side way, noticing Ghost and Soap is talking amongst themselves and not looking at your way, he bend over, pull his mask down and gave you a quick kiss, while wiping your tears away. " I will see you soon Liebling, I promise." He whispers. He hates seeing you cry. you nodded your head, he pull you in for one last tight hug before you went for final hugs with Ghost and Soap. You have no idea the next time all three of you see each other again was in dire circumstance. "...What did my Ma say to you?" " ... She said I am welcome anytime to your house..." " You know you are always welcome." " ... she said she sees me as another son that she didn't give birth to." " Simon, I respect you as a commander , a colleague and also as a brother from different mother right? Mini loves having you around as well. You ARE part of my family." " Thanks Johnny." " Besides, I need someone to help me to keep an eye on König." "... I think it might be the other way round. König probably get hassled by Mini than he does to her." "... That is true."

Farout I am making this chapter more into broken heart Ghost than König x reader fic lol ooops. I just want to round off his feeling for Mini, moving on from unrequited love onto family big brother love.

I am slowly easing Ghost into the MacTavish family household...trying very hard not to make it too forced. This boy deserves happiness and i WILL GIVE HIM HAPPINESS even in this König route ( and even though I hurt the poor boy with rejection...) I am imagining both König and Ghost are comfortable enough not to wear mask/face covering in private setting with their family.

[toomuchracket]

he would want to rent a cottage/cabin or something like that (cotswolds/Joshua tree/nice/Yosemite) and play house with you when you’re not already living together. just cooking, exploring, fucking, sleeping and talking alllll day

combining with I feel like the vibe would be to get out of the city and just have some decompression time in the countryside. Regardless of AU, girly is working in a major city, Matty is jet-setting and both are likely city fatigued and need to spend some alone time with a beautiful view and about that holiday thing… i’ve had a really fluffy & romantic brainrot about driving to the english countryside with matty :’) not thinking about that one video OR maybe ireland?? i think it would be the cutest either during summer of autumn. don’t really have anything too specific in mind. (except they’d obviously have a lot of sex lol and if they’re staying at a cute b&b place they’d have to try and be pretty quiet because the walls are sooooo thin) just super cute, domestic cottage core/english murder mystery vibes and That’s so funny you should say that abt going away bc i’m on my way home from a weekend up at my family’s cottage up north and i would have loved to bring him along like a little lapdog in a purse 😭 like lazing around riverbanks, cuddling up and sharing a joint by the bonfire, finding cute little trails and having impromptu picnics sksndkdnfb

this to me feels quite birthday party coded, quite early in the relationship before you move in together, and before both of you busy little bees have properly developed the rhythms of being together and working and whatnot! anyway, it comes about because both you and matty are finding london exhausting, and you have the same week in late june free, so matty's like "fuck it. let's just go away for a few days, just us and mayhem and nothing and nobody else. i'll drive, we'll get a cottage somewhere nice and we'll just... relax", and you're like "that sounds dreamy let's do it". and in my head you literally stay in kate winslet's house from The Holiday (despite the fact it is not real), that cosy little cottage in the middle of a literal field - as soon as the door is opened, mayhem bolts in and settles himself somewhere unknown, which makes you both laugh (you find him later on a chaise longue in a spare bedroom snoring his sweet head off), and matty takes the opportunity to be like "i'm being so gratuitous here but just let me have a moment" before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you in, kissing you as he sets you down on the kitchen counter. you're like "we've been here five seconds and you're already acting like some austenian romantic hero. this is amazing. hitting several of my fantasies if i'm honest", and matty giggles like "give me five minutes to bring the bags in and then i'll carry you to bed and hit some more of them, if you want" - you're like "ok but if you take your shirt off while you bring in the bags you'll have hit another one already", and matty rolls his eyes but does it anyway because tbh his one goal in life is to turn you on (and oh, watching his biceps flex and back muscles ripple does it to an insane degree). so yeah, that's the first of many sex sessions in the cottage, after which you get cleaned up and redressed and walk hand-in-hand into the little village nearby to get some shopping; fancy wine, cheese, bread, fruit, all that good stuff, and ingredients for a proper cooked breakfast for the next morning, before heading back to just sit in the garden and watch the sunset together with your little cheeseboard dinner and a bottle of wine and honestly a joint too. matty abandons his "i am not letting you fuck up your lungs" bit so you can get high with him, and you sit giggling and kissing until you're sleepy and the two of you decide to go to bed - you fall asleep almost instantly, because of the wine and the weed and the fresh air.

the next morning, a lie-in after a great long sleep - more sex, then a shower, then matty cooking breakfast while you sit on the sofa with mayhem and coo at him (which makes matty go all gooey lol). it's not too hot or sunny, so you decide to spend the day taking mayhem for a loooooooooong walk along the river; he goes in for a swim and its the happiest you've ever seen him. naturally, matty considers moving out of the city then and there lmao. the three of you end up in a pub beer garden for dinner, you and matty chatting nonsense over your pints, before heading back "home" and having a bubble bath together with some wine, which inevitably leads to yet more sex. it's a perfect few days, which is something matty addresses when you're cuddled into his chest, listening to the birds and watching the sunlight stream through the curtains, on your final morning in the cottage - he's like "this has been perfect, waking up and spending my days with you. don't wanna go home", and you're like "neither do i. want to just be with you all the time". and then matty has an absolute eureka moment and says quietly "will you move in with me, please? really don't think i can go back to living alone and making breakfast by myself. s'a lot better when you've got your arms wrapped around me lol", and you kiss him softly and say "yes, i will", and you do!! i also think you write a little free-form essay about the trip when you get back to london, with an epigraph from another of your fav classic romantic female authors that perfectly describes how you feel about your own love interest: "whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" <3

[nowandajenn]

Blue Christmas- chapter 12

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

Series warnings: angst (like a lot), mentions of infidelity, language, family drama, pregnancy, sexual situations.

Author’s Note: I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings

February 16

Some surprises aren’t all bad. Like getting a day in the middle of February that’s almost 60 degrees. Even at almost 10pm, it’s still in the upper 40s, so I’m taking advantage and sitting on our front porch in the swing desperately trying to battle my nausea, which sprang up out of nowhere like a wrecking ball, determined to take me down. 

I hear the door open and quickly stub out the joint and hide the rest of it on the bottom shelf of the little table next to me. Fuck, a lot of good that’s going to do since it reeks of pot out here, dumbass I think to myself. 

“Kelly?” 

I sigh in relief as I realize that it’s just Lisa. She closes the front door and walks over to where I’m sitting in her pajamas and slippers. 

“Take a load off.” I say softly. I pull the blanket back so she can sit down and offer it back to her once she’s settled. 

“Were you smoking weed out here?” she asks. 

“What? No. Absolutely not.” I tell her, trying not to grin. 

“Please. I raised four kids. I know what weed smells like. You’re busted.”

“Trying to combat the nausea. I don’t even get the relief of throwing up. I’m just stuck in that shitty state of feeling constantly nauseous where I’m like ‘God, either let me just throw up so I can feel better’. It’s awful.”

“I don’t miss that. The first four months I was pregnant with Chris, my head was in the toilet bowl.” 

We sit for a few minutes, just enjoying the slight breeze and sway gently in the swing. It’s one of the few moments of absolute peace I feel like I’ve had in months. Plus, there’s something about Lisa that is just so damn comforting and warm that it’s impossible not to feel good in her presence. 

“Have you told anyone else?” she asks softly, looking over at me. 

I shake my head. “I just…..I don’t want anyone to know until I figure out….”

“This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. All that time we tried and we tried and nothing was happening…..I prayed so hard for it. It just seems like having it happen now….it’s like the universe is laughing at me.” I turn my body a bit to face her. “On one hand, I AM happy. I want to be excited and tell people and get my hopes up. I want Chris to be happy and know that he’s finally gonna get his wish and be a dad. But on the other….I’m terrified. Even if everything goes right and we have a healthy baby….what if Chris and I can’t make this work? Am I going to be a divorced mom shuttling my kid back and forth every weekend and splitting holidays?”

“Kel, I wish I could see the future so I could have all the answers for you and tell you that everything was going to work out. But I know this; even if, God forbid, you and Chris can’t work this out, I know for a fact that you both would do everything in your power to make sure that this baby would be so incredibly loved and protected. You will always be a part of each other’s lives. You two are so deeply intertwined with each other. I think you’re trying too hard to focus on the future and you’re imagining all these scenarios that may not even happen. And I know it’s hard not to do that. You’re a planner; it’s what you do. Don’t make this decision based on what might happen or what you’re scared of having happen. Make this decision based on what YOU feel is best for you. I know how scared you are of all the unknown, but you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, honey.”

Lisa opens her arms and I snuggle into her, letting the tears flow down my cheeks and into the woven fabric of the blanket. It’s a perfect mom hug. 

A week later, Chris and I are in his Audi, navigating the morning rush as we make our way to our first marriage counseling appointment. My stomach has been in upheaval all morning long, and I can’t even totally blame it on morning sickness. I feel like this is the thing that’s going to make or break us, and the thought makes me break out into a cold sweat. I reach over and grab my cup of tea out of the cupholder and take a sip, making a face. I really wanted coffee, but I didn’t think that was going to help my stomach any. 

Chris looks over at me and rubs my leg. “You okay?”

“I feel like I’m gonna puke.” 

I almost want to laugh at the look of alarm he gives me. “Hold on, I’ll pull over.”

“No, I- I’m just nervous and anxious and…..it’s not doing my stomach any favors.” 

Thirty minutes later, Chris pulls into a parking spot outside the nondescript brick building that our therapist’s office is housed in. He puts the car in park and exhales. It’s God Doesn’t Love You cold outside, and neither one of us are looking forward to getting out of the car. 

“Should we wait? 

It takes my brain a second to catch up with what he’s saying. 

“I’d rather just go in there and get this started. If we wait, I’m just going to get more and more anxious and build it up to be this big monster of a thing and freak the fuck out. I just….I wanna get to work.”

“I know…I just don’t want you to stress out more than you already are. I know this is going to be decidedly not awesome in any way.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m nervous.” he says in a shaky voice. 

“I know. But I honestly think…..as much as it’s going to fucking suck at first….I think it will be good in the long run. I think it will help. I’m just not really excited to rehash everything.”

Chris rubs his hand over his beard, mentally flogging himself for being such a fucking idiot. He reaches over and grabs my right hand and squeezes it. “I love you. I love you so damn much. Thank you for doing this with me. I don’t…..I don’t deserve you.”

I take a deep breath. “I love you too.”

I decide that I’m a little bit in love with our counselor about ten minutes into us sitting down with her. She’s younger than I thought she would be, and not at all what you would picture a marriage counselor to be like. Shelley Gray is a force of nature with smoky lavender hair, a blunt tell it like it is attitude, and an insanely cool office filled with interesting art and kick knacks. When we had set up the appointment, her office had emailed over a worksheet of sorts for Chris and I to fill out with basics about us, why we decided to start marriage counseling, and what we hope to achieve in the future. So, she pretty much has the broad strokes when we come in for our first session. She greets us both with a firm handshake and a friendly smile and invites us to take a seat on the insanely comfortable, squishy couch in her office. 

“I’m in love with your office.” I blurt out, not able to help myself. “I’ve been in a lot of offices, and this is the most comfortable, cool, relaxed atmosphere I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you. My line of work can be really….harsh, for lack of a better term. It’s often really emotional and intimidating for the people that come to see me, so I wanted to kind of create a space that was relaxing and inviting. Why come into a space that’s cold and impersonal and then have to talk about hard things?” 

She sits in the overstuffed blue armchair across from us and settles in, grabbing her notepad and folder off the table between us. “Let me start off by saying this. Everything you say in the space of this room is completely and strictly confidential and falls under doctor/patient confidentiality unless one of you tells me something that makes me think you might have intentions of hurting yourself or someone else. Secondly, as I said before, couples counseling can be harsh. Most people that come in here are talking about things that are uncomfortable and ugly and not great. What I ask is that you both allow yourselves to be completely honest and open when you’re here. Couples often times try and censor themselves in the company of their spouse or partner because they don’t want to upset or offend, and they feel like they don’t want to make things worse. Which is all completely understandable. But censoring yourself and not being honest isn’t going to help anything. You’re just shoving metaphorical crap into the closet and not dealing with it. My job is to help you guys the best I can to deal with all the bad stuff and work through it without killing each other.” 

Chris and I both blow out a harsh breath at the same time, and it makes Dr. Gray smile. We start the session by dipping a toe in and the both of us giving her a little bit of insight into us as individuals and our relationship. 

“Okay, so now that I have a bit of background on you guys, let’s jump into why you decided to come see me. I know you guys filled out your pre appointment worksheet, but those aren’t going to give me the full picture of what’s going on.” She looks between both of us and notices that we’ve both stiffened up and look uncomfortable and I look like I’m about to cry. 

“Okay, let’s start a little smaller.” she says, turning towards me. “Kelly, you look like you got a bit banged up. What happened?” 

I look down at my left arm that’s still in the hinged brace and the walking boot on my foot. “I was in a  pretty bad car accident right after the first of the year. I’m still kind of….getting back to normal. Whatever that means.” I shrug. 

“How did it happen?” 

“I was coming back from the airport. It was really early in the morning, and I was really tired and just wanted to get home. In hindsight, I should have just called an Uber or something, but who the hell knows if that would have made a difference. The guy that hit me was coming off of working 3rd shift and fell asleep at the wheel. I survived, but he didn’t. And that…..I’m still trying to figure out how to process that.” 

Chris turns to me. “I saw the car.” 

My eyes go round. “What? When?”

“When you were still in the hospital. I went for a drive with Dodger to calm down and try and decompress, and I ended up at the junkyard they towed it to. Seeing how hurt you were….and then seeing what the car looked like…..I don’t know how the hell you survived that.” I see his eyes get glassy with tears, and he looks up quickly to try and keep them from falling. 

“I went to Chicago. That’s….that’s why I was coming back from the airport. That’s why I was on the road at that ungodly hour.” I say quickly. It’s the first time I’ve openly admitted that. We both know that’s where I went, but neither of us said anything about it out loud. 

“What was in Chicago?” Dr. Gray asks. 

I close my eyes and try my best to steel myself for this. This is it. It’s like a wound. It’s ugly and bloody and painful and you think that it’s going to start healing after a while, but then you find out there’s an infection festering in there. So then you have to cut it open and get all the rot out so you can finally, maybe get back to some semblance of normal. 

“The woman that I slept  with.” Chris says, almost choking on the words. Yeah, no matter how many times I hear that, it still feels like a sledgehammer right to the gut. Somehow, when it’s in my brain, I can compartmentalize a little bit. But when it’s said out loud? All bets are off. I grab the pink shag throw pillow next to me and squeeze the life out of it. My eyes start burning and I can feel my chest start to tighten up.

“Kelly? Are you okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut against the burn and shake my head. I know if I try and open my mouth, something embarrassing is going to come out. Vomit or a loud wail. “You’re okay. Take all the time you need.” 

Fucking hell. How did we get here? How? How? How? 

“I can’t remember the last time I was okay.” I sob out, desperately trying to get the words out between tears and snot and hiccups. I’ve spent so much time trying to just HANDLE all of the shit that’s been piled on one right after another and deal with it and not break down, and it’s just all of the sudden TOO FUCKING MUCH. 

“I’m so fucking mad. I’m mad about everything. I’m mad that my husband cheated on me. I’m mad that he didn’t tell me right away even though I KNEW something was wrong.” I swing my gaze to Chris. “I KNOW YOU. I know your tells. I knew something was wrong, and I asked you about it over and over and you said everything was fine, when I knew that was a load of shit. I’m mad that I’m in pain every single day and I don’t know if it’s going to get better. I’m mad that I’m pregnant and I can’t go more than two hours without feeling like I’m going to puke up my stomach lining.” 

At this point, I’m red in the face and breathing heavily, and Chris is looking at me like I’m about to shed my skin and turn into a man eating dragon at any second. Dr. Gray pushes a box of tissues towards me and I grab a handful to wipe off the tears and snot. Suddenly, my stomach lets out a tremendously loud growl, and that just adds to my embarrassment. “Fucks sake.” I mumble. I skipped breakfast because I was too nauseous. 

The good doctor gets up and walks over to her desk, pulling open a drawer. I’m expecting that she’s going to fire us because one half of us is obviously insane and snotting all over her throw pillow, and I bury my face in my hands. 

“Here.” I look up and see her handing me a snack size package of chewy Chips Ahoy cookies. I look up at her with teary eyes. “I don’t always remember to take breaks for actual meals so I keep snacks in the office so I can just graze all day. And for moments like this.” I take the cookies gratefully and rip open the package, immediately shoving one in my mouth. 

I take a deep breath as I chew, trying to calm myself down. Great, session one and I’m already a basket case. This is going swimmingly. I sigh heavily and look up at the good doctor, who I’m already planning on putting in the will for just the cookies alone. “I swear I’m not crazy.” I say softly, rolling my eyes at myself because isn’t that what all crazy people always say anyway?

She chuckles out loud. “No, I don’t think you are. I think you’ve had a hell of a lot of crazy stuff happen to you in a really short amount of time. And if anyone could deal with all of that piled on them and not have a breakdown every now and then because of it, I’d really be concerned.” 

I turn to Chris. “I left for Chicago after we had that god awful conversation at the house. You know….for some reason, I had it in my head that if I could go and I could just see her and put a face to this mystery woman who kind of came in and bulldozed everything, it would help me start taking the first steps towards….I don’t know….working on dealing with it and….coming to terms with it? I don’t know, I feel like I’m not saying it right. So, I went back through my texts where you mentioned where you were staying in Chicago and I flew there and I checked in, and I almost chickened out of the whole thing. I mean, I flew all the way to fucking Chicago to confront the woman that my husband slept with. Is that a sane, rational thing to do? But I got dressed up, had dinner, and then went to the bar for a drink. And there she was. Jo. And she had no idea who I was until I showed her the picture on my phone of you and I. And I’ve never seen someone turn so white they were almost transparent. I would have laughed, but I was so sick to my stomach…..I said what I had to say, then I went back to my room and I threw up for two hours.” 

“Did seeing her and confronting her help, do you think?” Dr. Gray asks. 

“I don’t know. I mean, it didn’t change anything, really. I could just put a face to her. And in hindsight, if I had known what was going to happen to me on the way home, I would have just stayed here and been happy wondering forever I think.” 

She closes her notebook and looks at both of us appraisingly. “Well, we certainly have a lot of work ahead of us in the coming sessions, but you guys are both tough, and I think we’re all up for the challenge. I’m going to give you guys a workbook that you’re going to work on together. Some of it is for you each separately, and some of it is for you to answer together. Pick a time every week where you can sit down, uninterrupted and work on it. It can be a fun bonding exercise. Every week when you come see me, I’m going to give you a homework assignment to complete before you come see me again. If it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, don’t worry. There’s no pass or fail. All that matters is that you try. The first assignment is that I want you guys to have a date night. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. It can just be cooking dinner together at home and wearing something nice. Whatever you decide to do. You don’t have to talk about any of the hard stuff, just have a nice time, together for a few hours. Try and put all of the baggage out of your minds for that period of time and just focus on being together, and how you feel when you’re with each other. Deal?”

Chris and I nod. “We can do that.” 

When we leave, I make Chris stop at McDonalds because the cookies only sated my hunger for about half an hour before my stomach was protesting again. When we pull up to the house, I’m still shoving fries in my mouth when I notice a rental car parked outside. 

“We weren’t expecting anyone to come by right? I don’t recognize the car.” I mumble through my food. 

“Not that I know of. Nobody texted me.” Chris says. 

We get out of the car and head inside and I almost drop the bag of food when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in person for about eight months talking and laughing with Lisa. 

“Holy shit. You’re here! How? When?” I squeal as my best friend Katie comes over and squeezes me as hard as she dares without hurting me. “I know you told me over and over not to fly all the way out here and just wait until I was due to come home anyway, but I couldn’t just sit on the other side of the world while you were here, going through all this stuff. FaceTiming just wasn’t cutting it.” 

“She showed up about 45 minutes ago. I didn’t even know she was coming.” Lisa told us. 

“You hid the knives right? All the sharp objects? Rat poison? Anything she could use to murder me?” Chris asks his mom, who rolls her eyes. 

“You and I are going to have a conversation later that you’re not going to enjoy. So I’m going to let you sit here and squirm while you imagine how THAT’S going to go, while I take my best friend and catch up with her.” Katie says, pointing at Chris. He’ll never openly admit it, but he’s lowkey terrified of her and I find it hilarious. 

She and I head upstairs to the guest bedroom to get her settled and Chris turns to Lisa. “Did she say how long she’s here for?” he asks. Lisa shrugs. “Undetermined. But I would do my best to stay on her good side, because even I can’t save you from her.”

[whiskeynwriting]

Limo sex after a party because Daddy Whiskey couldn’t wait til the hotel? 🥹 then continue at the hotel of course. 😉

Oh hell YES!!!

Out With the Old

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, mentions of reader’s hair, established relationship, size difference, jealousy, dirty talk, daddy kink (obviiiii), praise kink, spit kink, spanking, brief hair pulling, semi-public groping, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, brief cum play, mentions of bdsm dynamics

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A/N: So initially I was supposed to post “Life Is Better”, but “Out With the Old” got done first so enjoy this while I continue with “Life Is Better” lol. Ya girl is sick (yes AGAIN) so I’m trying my best. Hoping I get the second fic out to y’all tonight!

Lastly, this has not been beta-read. My apologies lol

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Regardless of their true nature, their genuine brutality and extensive knowledge of sabotage and investigation, Statesman really knows how to throw a party. It’s like every year, they exceed your expectations and then some. After all, it was only an office holiday party, they didn’t need to go all-out, but they really loved to impress. Say what you want about Statesman, but these country boys have taste. 

“You almost ready, honey?” Jack hollers, securing his watch.

“Almost!” Comes your returning call, readying yourself in the hotel bathroom.

“The car’s here, sweetheart. We gotta go.” While shouting back, he simultaneously makes his way over to you. 

This year’s party was a city away from Louisville, about a two-hour drive. The hotel they booked was five-star with each of the agent’s rooms being paid off for the weekend. Due to the venue, a grand ballroom in the center of the city, Jack took you shopping the Friday before you left. He’d bought you a brand new gown for the event. Honestly though, even if the party were held at the office like it had been in years past, Jack still would’ve bought you a new dress. 

With your hair down and makeup done, you slide in the dangly earrings you’d chosen, finishing your look. The silver of your jewelry matches the bright sparkles on your gown, the midnight blue allowing you to wear the night sky as glitter twinkles throughout the fabric. Your heels are a similar dark shade, as well as the handkerchief on Jack’s suit. You were matching perfectly, those words proving true as you look into the reflection to see him standing behind you. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Grinning, you turn around, your lower back against the sink.

He shrugs, refusing to meet your eyeline as those warm orbs rake over your form. Smirking, he approaches you, one hand settling over the curve of your waist. Sighing, he shakes his head, licking his lower lip. 

“Why do you do this to me, honey?” 

Grinning, your hands lift to wrap around the back of his neck, thumbs stroking along his jawline. Now, he glances up, looking into your eyes. 

“You’re gonna make me act like a fool in front of my whole company.” 

A brief laugh escapes your lips, leaning in to brush your nose with his. “You act like a fool even when it’s just you and me.” 

“You got me there.” Swooping his other arm around your lower back, he pulls you in, closing the gap.

If there was one thing Jack was known for in your relationship, it was quickies. He snuck those in whenever he got the chance. Before weddings, before family outings, hell, even before dates where you were sure to get into it the second you got back. He didn’t matter where you were going or how long you’d been together, he always wanted you. But you weren’t going to let him have you tonight, not before the party. 

“Baby,” You insist, placing a hand on his chest to stop his frenzied kisses. “I just got done getting ready!” 

“Please, honey.” He begs, turning to kiss your cheek, your jawline, making his way to your neck. “Why don’t you make daddy happy?”

Mumbling against your skin, his hands slide down to your back, lowering to secure his fingers around your plump curves. “Look so good in this tight little dress…”

“As much as I’d like to do that,” You coo to him, grabbing his chin and lifting him to look at you. “We have a party to attend.”

“Just real quick?” He pouts, those puppy-dog eyes boring into you. 

“You guys have never been this fancy for your office holiday party.” You express, fingers stroking along his chin. “I don’t want you to mess up my makeup or dress.” 

“Fine.” He finally returns, now pouting fully. 

“C’mon, daddy.” Kissing his cheek, you stride toward your door. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” 

Truthfully, you wanted to keep your appearance neat. You plan on enjoying tonight but in the back of your mind, there’s a pinch of worry. It’s no secret Jack used to flirt with his coworkers, sleeping with at least a handful of them. That was before you, of course, but still, they circle like vultures. You know that Jack sees you as his prized possession whether you were sick in sweats or dressed to the nines on a red carpet, but you wanted to show your best self to these women. Remind them that you’re here to stay, that they lost their chance with him. 

“It’s absolutely gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Maureen.” Smiling at the older woman, you find her to be incredibly refreshing. Some women at the company treated you like you were their own daughter, while others saw you as competition. 

“Did you want this cut?” She asks, gazing at your ring.

“Absolutely!” Maureen was at your wedding, but only at the reception. “Jack really knows me.”

Even though most of the women surrounding you had been at your wedding, they still fawn over your ring. It was quite glamorous, dazzling on your hand and distracting everyone in the nearest vicinity. 

“You should have seen her face when he put it on her finger.” Jess comments, grinning. “Everyone in that room was crying.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you give her a half hug, letting your head rest on her shoulder. While other women take turns holding your hand to view your ring, your eyes wander the room, looking for your beloved. It still surprises you how eager they are to see the piece of jewelry. You and Jack weren’t exactly newlyweds anymore, but still, it was exciting. 

On the other side of the room is where you find him. Shocker, he’s at the bar. You’ve been here for thirty minutes and he’s already three shots in, surrounded by his own friends. But you don’t mind, you know he’ll order a limo to take the two of you home tonight. Plus, he’d already tended to you, kissing you on the cheek while handing you your favorite drink. He deserves to have fun with his friends, he shouldn’t always worry about caring for you. In fact, it’s nice to see him this way, relaxed and care-free. 

“You’re lucky to have him, honey.” Another woman comments, her face sour in expression when you look up at her. 

“Don’t I know it.” You respond, grinning sarcastically. She amuses you, grinning briefly and nodding. 

An ex of Jack’s, if she can even be called that. Do one-night stands count as exes? 

“Let me guess, a princess cut ring? For his princess?”

Tilting your head, you squint at her, grinning. “No, actually. It’s pear-shaped, and… Jack doesn’t call me his princess.” Laughing, you turn to Jess, rolling your eyes. 

“Just another bird.” She mutters, with you returning beneath your breath, “Always circling.” 

Her name is Miranda but you try not to directly address her. Even Maureen has gone out of her way to warn you about her. She’s a drama-starter, and not just when it comes to Jack. She’s the type of woman that expects a ring after a guy buys her a drink, ya know? The morning after she’d slept with Jack, she had the audacity to come into his office, demanding he take her out on a real date. She could take a class or two on how to approach a man. In fact… it looks like she’s taking a swing at that right now.

With your eyes glued to her frame, you watch as she turns, slowly approaching Jack. She makes a beeline for him, directly across the large room. And while you know she’s making her way over to talk to him, you don’t move. You know he can handle this. But lord, you wish you could be a fly on the wall near that conversation. 

“Jack!”

When he hears his name, he turns, surprised to see her. They haven’t spoken in months, not since Champ took the liberty of moving her desk away from Jack’s office. 

“Miranda…” He replies quietly, a little awkwardly. 

Shuffling between a few of his coworkers, she sets herself up to stand right beside him, smiling. It’s ironic she’s chosen now to stop by. Jack just got finished bragging about you. He’d been telling his closest friends about his beautiful wife, how happy he is by your side. Whether it’s your looks or your brains, your personality or your experience, Jack always found something to brag about when it came to you. He may have even been boasting about a holiday vacation he had planned for the two of you…

Turning to the bartender, she orders two shots. One for her and apparently… one for Jack.

“Your favorite, right?” She asks, handing him the small glass.

“Uh, yeah…” He grins, amused by this. Taking it from her hand, he lifts it briefly in thanks before downing it. She doesn’t even get a chance to take her own before Jack’s swallowed his and is turning away. 

“Wait,” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she pulls, turning him around. 

With a firm sigh, he questions, “Yeah?”

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding.”

Raising his brows, he settles an elbow against the bar, facing her.“Really?”

“Yeah,” She nods, reaching out to stroke his forearm. And you see her do it, your face going red from rage. But you keep your cool, waiting to see what he’ll do. 

“You looked so handsome in the pictures I saw.”

“Well, thanks.” He clears his throat, checking the time quickly. “Really, my wife’s the one that took everyone’s breath away.” 

“I’m sure.” She easily dismisses this. “You know, she’s been around for quite some time. How long has it been? Two and… five?”

“What?” Jack asks, confused as he furrows his brows. But then he sees her sliding something toward him. A small, square card. 

“Oh wait, that’s where I’m at.” She grins, watching him pick up the key to her room. “I’d love to see you again. Maybe later tonight?” 

At this, Jack fully laughs. Handing it back, he asks, “What? Are you an escort now?”

His coworkers had been holding their tongues but at this, they can’t help but laugh. And her face burns bright red. 

“Oh come on, Jack.” She replies, almost angrily. “You and I both know you get bored easily.” At her continuance, Jack’s smile fades, a stern expression replacing it. “Why don’t you shake things up a little, hm? You know what they say, out with the old…” Leaning forward, she takes one last shot, placing her hand over his own. “In with the new.” 

Jack’s eyebrows shoot sky-high again, smirking at this. She takes his reaction as him being interested, but he’s only responding this way because of her foolishness. Reaching forward, he picks up the glass of water he’d ordered when he first got to the bar, taking a brief sip of it to clear his throat. 

Smacking his lips, he returns his attention to her, his patience running thin. “Ain’t you the old one around here?” He then says, making her eyes widen. And he chuckles at this, pointing to her. “Remember you tried this whole act a few years ago, back before my sugar was even around.” 

You can see Jack pointing at her, smiling. And you have half a mind to walk over there when Champ suddenly tugs on your arm, pulling you aside. 

“Seems like you’re the old news.” Jack finishes with a wide grin. “Why don’t you go find somebody else to sleep with. My hands are pretty full tonight.” Lifting his left hand, he wiggles his fingers, that simple band shining beneath the bar’s overhead lights. With a jovial wink, he walks off, intent on finding you. 

Even though he didn’t show it, the way that woman spoke to him is making his blood fucking boil. How dare she push you aside like that? The literal love of his life, being excused by a woman who barely ever had him. He definitely wasn’t having that. But his rambling thoughts subside when he finds himself lost. He swears you were just here, surrounded by this group of women. 

“Jess,” He asks, walking over to her. “Where’d she go?”

Covering her laugh with the palm of her hand, she looks over at the dance floor, Jack’s gaze following along with her. And immediately, he groans. You gotta be shittin’ me. 

Low and behold, there you are, just a few feet away. On the dance floor, with a man that’s not him. Right now, you’re dancing with Champ, but not to upset Jack. He’d finally got the chance to pull you into his side, insisting that he have your hand for a dance. Champ was always such a flirt, and while you both knew he was harmless, the timing of Jack seeing this couldn’t be worse. He was already feeling protective over you, and now, that’s only amplified. 

The old tune you’re swaying to makes him sigh, rolling his eyes. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to dance with you tonight. You’re holding back an annoyed grin, but every now and then, a genuine smile slips through. And while Jack loves you and would do everything for you, he’s not going to make a scene in front of the entire company. So, he has to wait, unfortunately. 

But while he watches you dance, he sees how gorgeous you truly are. Not that he didn’t see it every day, but it was almost like he’s gotten the opportunity to see you through other people’s eyes. And lord, you truly are a sight. The way you move gracefully across the floor, the way you keep a beat so easily, and the way you grin when Champ laughs that big belly chuckle makes Jack head swim with sin. 

“Hey, baby!” Finally, your dance has come to an end. And if Jack weren’t here to distract you, Champ might’ve stolen a kiss on your hand. 

“Come here,” Jack mutters, grabbing your hand. 

“Babe?” You ask, concern coloring your features. 

Another thing Jack was known for in your relationship? Pulling you into bathrooms.

“Why the fuck were you dancing with him?” He asks, turning to face you once locking the door behind him.

“I dunno,” Shrugging, you grin while he backs you up to a wall. “He just pulled me aside and, babe, he’s your boss. I didn’t want to outwardly say no to him.” 

Truthfully, Jack isn’t mad at you. There’s just a flurry of emotions twisting inside him. And you know this. 

Almost as soon as your back is against the wall, he’s feeling you, hands groping your form. Palms run over the curve of your waist, fingers grab at your backside and chest, and already, he’s breathing heavy.

“What’s got you all riled up, huh?” Grinning, you hold the back of his head, watching as he mouths at your chest. Incessant fingers pull at your neckline, revealing more of your plump skin. 

Through a heavy sigh, he releases some of his frustration. “I don’t want you dancin’ with him again.” Swallowing thickly, he then tells you, “I know sooner or later he’ll try to sneak in a grab.” 

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Lifting his head, he leans in, kissing you. Those plush lips press firmly to your own, a quick breath forced out through his nose. “And I’m not lettin’ anybody touch you.” 

“Oh yeah?” You tease, “Even though Miranda touched you?”

The way Jack clenches his jaw is visible, releasing another sigh. “I don’t want to speak ill of a woman,” He begins, shaking his head. “But she really tested my patience.”

“Really?”

Leaning in, Jack mouths at your ear, his hand lifting to the back of your head. Dipping lower, his mouth sucks on your neck, pelvis grinding into your hips as he says, “You think I’d let any woman approach me now that I have you?” 

Grinning, a certain heat runs to your face. You’re flattered by him. 

“Oh, baby…” He moans, pawing at your ass. “Please let me have you.” If he thought it was challenging to reject his arousal on the way here, it’s nothing compared to now. He fucking needs you, can’t keep himself away from you. 

“You really want me that bad, huh, daddy?” And just like that, he’s whining, head dropping back down to your chest. He always liked to mouth at your tits while he begged. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so pretty. You’re such an angel, baby.” He expresses, clearly inebriated and fawning over you, per usual. “All those women out there? They’re jealous of you.”

“They’re jealous because I have you.” 

“Baby girl, you know -” Panting above your chest, he groans, licking the valley between your breasts. “You know I belong to you.”

The way he says it makes a pang of arousal shoot through you, your head tilting back with a quiet moan. 

“And they know it, too. You know what I told her, you cute thing?” Jack’s voice dips when he says this, hugging your body to his. “I told her you’re my girl, my wife, my everything.”

If there was one thing for certain, it was that Jack is entirely, wholeheartedly, and genuinely, devoted to you. 

“Really?” Lifting his face from your chest, you look into his eyes lovingly. 

“Of course, baby.” His lips return then, tongue sliding into your mouth and running across your own. He tastes like bourbon and lemon, the fruit must have been in his drink.

One arm stays looped around your lower back while the other rises to your face, holding your jaw open for him. While licking inside, he groans, feeling one of your hands slither between your bodies. You’re stroking him through his pants, tongue tangling with his. But suddenly, you jump, body jolting from the sound of booming laughter back in the ballroom.

“Baby,” Breathing heavily against him, he’s still kissing you, mouthing at the corner of your lips and then your cheek and chin. 

Groaning, he begs one more time. “At least let me have a sneak peak.”

“We can have some fun in the limo, baby. I promise.” But that’s not good enough for him, evidenced by his high whine. “We have to go back!” You respond through a full laugh, genuinely enjoying his attention. 

“Do we?” He’s sucking on your tits again, trying desperately to free them. 

“They’re gonna know we’re gone.”

“Why don’t we just leave?” He then suggests, those warm and affectionate eyes return to your own. They’re full of lust and excitement, and he grins when he says, “Just like our weddin’ night,” Brushing his hand along your cheek, eyes dipping down to admire your lips. “Remember?” 

It takes little to no convincing for you to agree, Jack hauling you off the wall and grabbing your hand. 

Surprisingly, it’s an easy escape, the two of you making it to the elevator easily. Your hand is in his the entire time, his fingers secured around you. When the elevator doors close, you expect him to be on you, pushing you up against the wall and covering you in kisses. But this time, he does something different. 

Gentle lust takes over his mind, his adoration for you truly shining through. Turning, he wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you into a hug. His handsome face rests in the crook of your neck, humming when he feels you lean into him. 

Mumbling your name, he holds you a little tighter in his arms. And while placing tender kisses on your neck, he sighs dreamily. “You’re the love of my life, babycakes.” 

The ride back to the hotel is full of nothing but passionate touches and tender moans. Jack is clearly drunk and babbling praise, brushing your hair aside as he watches you. As soon as the two of you climbed inside, you settled on your knees, wanting to please him. And obviously, he had no complaints. 

“Babycakes…” He moans, watching you undo the belt and zipper on his pants. 

“You are mine, daddy.” Comes your lovely voice, your sweet response. Reaching in, you find what you were stroking back in the bathroom. “Fuck, I love you…”

He doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re licking up the length of him, erection throbbing in your small hand. When you get to his tip, you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it inside and releasing it with a small pop. 

“Baby,” Reaching forward, he puts both palms on either side of your face. “Come here, come here, sweet pea.” 

Leaning up, you move with him, allowing him to bring you in. By the way he’s looking at your mouth, you know what he wants, and immediately open up. Quickly, he spits into your mouth, thumb coming up to rub the wetness of it on your tongue. And then, he does it again, earning a small mewl from the back of your throat. 

“You’re precious,” He grins, hearing your little purr. But then his eyes travel lower, witnessing the rapid movement of your chest. “Take them out.”

Swallowing, you gasp when he reaches for your breasts. “What?”

“Take your tits out, right fuckin’ now.” His hands are fumbling over the neckline of your dress, fingers dipping over the edge and yanking your dress down. You let them plop out of the top of your gown, looking up at him with pretty eyes and a cute smile. “Fuck yes…” He’s mesmerized, leaning forward with thick and heavy breaths as he says, “Let daddy spit on them.” 

And without another word, he does, swirling his tongue around in his mouth before the wetness of his saliva coats your chest. He uses his thumb to drag it across your chest, rubbing it into your nipples. The way he does it makes you whine, both of you looking down to watch him. And while he plays, you fucking ache, the space between your legs throbbing for him.

Grabbing your tits with both hands, he kneads them firmly before making eye contact. “These are mine.” He tells you. “Understand?”

Nodding quickly, you respond with, “Yes. Yes daddy, I understand.” 

At that, he can’t help but bring you in for a heated kiss. His hand on the back of your neck pulls you close, lips meeting briefly because it’s really all teeth and tongue. He’s swapping spit with you, his tongue exploring you, before he’s yanking you back and shoving you down to your knees again.

“Put me back in your mouth, honey.” Shuffling back, he shifts his hips closer to you, one hand holding his base with the other on the back of your head. 

Doing as he says, you lower yourself again, eyes closing as you engulf him. In one smooth slide, he’s hitting the back of your throat, hips shaking as he feels you moan. 

“Look at that, look at your pretty face taking my cock.” He’s huffing out hot breaths, jaw open as he stares. With both hands he holds your face, stroking your hair while you drool over his lap. 

You stay here for a while, his cock seated so deep in your throat that your chin is laying over his balls. He admires how well you take him, how you rarely cease to swallow him whole. Fisting your hair, he moves you back, bobbing your head, languidly sliding your mouth along his girth. Honestly, watching you go down on him was one of the sexiest things he could fathom. Seeing the love of his life, his wife, suck on his cock, watching your pretty lips envelope him, feeling your drool spill over his skin… that’s really what did it for him. 

It takes about thirty minutes to get back to the hotel, and if you had it your way, Jack could have cum twice by then. But to your surprise, he takes things slow, not wanting to release just yet.

“Lick my balls, baby.” Immediately moving down, you complete his request, mouthing at him. “Jesus…” Closing his eyes, he tosses his head back. “Love when you do that.”

Glancing up, you make eye contact when he lowers his head. It makes him suck in a sharp gasp, the sight of it. While your mouth sucks on his scrotum, your hand jerks him off. Smooth and lazy tugs are what you give, squeezing his tip every time you get to it. 

“Fuck,” Shaking his head, he reaches down again, fingers brushing through your beautiful hair. “You know, baby, daddy has a present for you.”

“A present? Really?” You ask, almost giddy.

“Mhm,” He nods, grinning. “I’ll tell you when we, when…” His mouth drops open again, feeling your talented lips drag over him. And then, you spit, watching it roll down his scrotum before witnessing you lick it up again. “Fuck.”

“My present, daddy?”

“At the hotel.” He swallows, head falling back once again. “I’ll tell you about it at the hotel.” 

But he’s barely even able to get it out. When the car parks, you’re both stumbling up to your room, Jack closing and locking the door behind you. He’s already shrugging off his outer jacket when he turns to face you, smiling in his tipsy state as he watches you lay on the bed. 

“Oh, baby…” While walking over to you, he undoes his tie, eyes raking over your form. “I don’t know if you’ve ever done that for me.”

“What?” Tilting your head to the side, you glance up at him, connecting your lips when he’s close enough for it. 

“Blown me in a limousine.” He’s smiling wildly, sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

“Yeah?” Giggling quietly, you watch his eyes get lost as he gazes at your smooth skin. “Does that mean I get to know about my surprise?”

Without missing a beat, Jack tells you, “I’m taking you to Italy.”

“What?” Sitting up a bit straighter in shock, you absentmindedly push him back. “Really?!”

With a firm hand, he shoves you down on the bed, earning a surprised huff from your pretty lips. Now, he’s yanking the fabric down your body, mouth returning to your chest. 

“Are you serious?” You further pry, eyes following the movements of his large hands as he undresses you. The only thing beneath your dress was a black thong, and he slipped that off in a heartbeat. In less than ten seconds, you’re completely naked for him. 

“As a heart attack, honey bee.”

“Daddy!” It’s a happy squeal, that beautiful smile returning. 

“You know how I love to spoil you, baby.” Both hands are on your breasts, his covered pelvis grinding into your naked sex.

“Oh my gosh! When are we going?! Where?! For how long?!”

Lifting himself with a grunt, he sighs, looking into your eyes. “We’ll be gone for the holidays, babycakes…” And then he leans down, pressing his lips tenderly along your neck. “For a little over a week.” 

“Baby, I’m so excited!” You can’t seem to get over this, can’t seem to pull yourself back to your lustful, dreamy state that Jack is still very much in. 

“Yeah? Too excited to show me some love?” Jack asks, his voice dipping low while he nibbles on your earlobe. That seems to be all you need. 

Turning your head, you meet his lips, feeling his tongue dive inside. He rubs it over your own, deeply, sensually, his heated breaths picking up their pace. His hands leave you then, moving to unbutton his dress shirt and shove it off his torso. His belt is next, and then his pants, kicking off his socks and quickly crawling on top of you. 

“Can I have you now, sweet cheeks?” He asks, kissing along your jaw. “Please?”

“Yes, daddy. Yes, please.” Reaching up, you hold his gorgeous face, fingers sliding through his mocha-toned hair. 

By the way he’s been begging for you practically all night, you expect him to take you right here, to slide into you in one thrust. But he doesn’t. 

“Turn around,” Already, his hands are on your hips, moving you. “Get your hips in the air.” 

Usually, when Jack was drunk, he was lovey. He was sweet and soft and giggly, and every time you saw him like that, it made you melt. But that’s not how he seems to be tonight. Tonight, it’s like he needs you; needs to feel you beneath his body, melting from his touch, screaming his name and crying pleasurably from his love. 

“You’re already so wet, baby.” Running a finger up your slit, he sighs. “That’s what I like to see.”

“I know, daddy.” Your face is already pressed into the covers, resting down on your forearms with your hips up high for him. “I loved it…”

“Loved what, honey?” He’s situating himself behind you, resting on his knees and smoothing his palms over your ass.

“Sucking you off,” Releasing a breath, you whine. “Back in the limo.”

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” Further behind your bent form, he’s grinning, running his tip over your sex. “Maybe you should treat me to it more often.” 

Immediately, your first thought is, well, how often are we in a limousine? But you can’t even get the words out before he’s audibly spitting and pushing himself into you. It makes you gasp, the force he uses, bottoming out inside you with only one thrust. 

“Fuck!” Tossing his head back, he sighs, dominant hand smacking your outer thigh. “You’re always so warm for me, sweetheart. So warm and tight.” 

The same hand he used to smack you smoothes over your back, applying pressure to keep you down as he shifts his hips back. “So inviting… just begging me to slide inside.”

“Daddy,” Already, your fingers are reaching for the sheets, walls pulsing around the intrusion of him. No matter how many times you take him, you’re always surprised by his strength, his girth, and the way he uses it with you. 

When he hears your little whine, instead of slowing down, it only makes him more feral inside. Within his first five thrusts, his hips are slapping against your ass, one of your hands reaching behind to scratch at his thigh. 

“F-Fuck, baby!” Gasping into the sheets, you feel his tip punch against that sweet spot inside. He’s gotten too good at finding it. “Slow down, please. Oh my god, slow down, baby.” 

Shushing you, he says through hurried breaths, “It’s fine, baby. You’re fine…” 

Diving into you even harder, he punches the breath from your lungs, rocking the bed from his force. Swatting your hand away, he secures both of his to your hips, fingers digging in. Looking down, he watches your beautiful curves bounce against him, 

“You need to use your safe word, sweet thing?”

Not even a second goes by before you’re saying, “No! No, daddy. No, I love it…”

“Yeah,” He grins, shaking his head. “I had a feeling you did.”

His pelvis is still wet from the slobber you left on his cock, aiding in the smooth slide of his thrusts. And even though you didn’t get a chance to see his naked body tonight, feeling it is just as thrilling if not more. His hands never leave your skin, roaming your curves and caressing the dips along your hips. His thighs press into the backs of your own, warm and sturdy and firm, just like they’ve always been. And he’s using the strength of them to pound you into the mattress, shoving your plaint form further down beneath him. Protecting you, owning you, and he wishes all those women could see it. He wishes Champ could see it, too. 

“Don’t dance with him again.” Hauling you up, he presses your back to his chest, securing an arm around your midsection. Turning his head, he sucks on your neck, groaning when your hips roll back against him. 

“Champ?”

“Don’t say that fucker’s name while we’re in bed.” 

“Okay, daddy.” Nodding, you let your head drop to the side, licking your lower lips as he reaches down to rub your clit. 

“I needed you, babycakes. Needed you so bad tonight.” Brows folding up in the middle, he whines against you, grinding his hips into your backside. 

“I know you did, baby.” Reaching around, your hand finds his hair, fingers combing through his locks. 

“I’m sorry babycakes, daddy just can’t help himself around you.”

“Oh, fuck… I love it.” You feel like you could collapse, feeling him surround you like this, feeling him claim your very being all over again. “I love it, I love how fucking feral you are for me.” Rolling your eyes back, you inhale a large breath, trying to steady yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your midsection. 

“Huh, that’s quite the sentence, sugar peach. I must not be fuckin’ you hard enough.” 

Releasing you of his hold, he shoves you down again, intent on making you delirious from his influence. Like he never missed a beat, he’s shoving himself into you again, both hands gripping your cheeks before his dominant hand spanks one of them. 

Honestly, you’re shocked, genuinely shocked that he still has his wits about him to this degree. When you got back to your hotel room, you thought you’d ride him, make him cum inside you while you kissed all over his cheeks. But hell, you’re fine with this too, more than fine with it. To see those women look at Jack like he was a prize to be won made you furious. But knowing this is what he had in store for you later in the night made those immature worries fizzle away. He really is yours, for eternity. 

“Fuck,” He spits out. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

You hum happily at this, a lazy smile forming on your blissed-out face. “Already?”

“Jesus Christ,” His heart is pounding, he’s already sweating. “You have such a tight little hole.” 

You wish so desperately that you could see his handsome face, stroke his clean jawline and look into his eyes while he spilled inside. But honestly, you’re too love-drunk to even comprehend doing that right now. All you can do is let go, let go and allow yourself to feel the wonderful sensations he gives to you. It’s almost like you’re numb, the euphoria completely overpowering you.

“I want it,” Comes your dreamy sigh. “Want your cum, daddy.”

Rapidly, he nods, his jaw dropping. He can feel your heated walls squeezing around him, can feel your sex sucking him back inside every time he leaves, even for only a second. “Daddy-Daddy’s gonna cum, okay?”

“Okay,” Comes your muffled cry, face still buried in the sheets. 

Your husband thinks back to the way Champ held you while you danced, his hand in yours with the other on your lower back. The fucking nerve of that man. If only he knew what Jack did to you, what he could make you do. If only he could see you right now, calling out for your daddy, begging for him to fill your insides. But he already let one man see you like this, and he’s never doing that again. 

“Where do you want daddy’s cum, angel?” He knows where you want it, he just needs to hear you say it. “Do you want it inside? Do you want daddy’s cum inside your pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, yes please.” Rocking back against him, you’re both verbally and physically begging for his release. Not that you wanted this to end, honestly, you’ll probably ask him to go again. “Inside me…” 

“Fuck.” Whiskey repeats, his head and body absolutely swimming in ecstasy. Blunt fingernails trail down your back, the red marks he leaves making him grin. His other hand stays glued to your hip, allowing him to steady himself as he loses the fluid pace he’d originally created. 

“Yeah baby,” He then huffs out, his tip throbbing against your deepest parts. “Take my cum, babycakes.” His entire body jolts, leaning over you as he groans. “Gonna gi – gonna give you all of it. All of it.”

His hips stutter, his delirious moan bursting out from his chest and through those pillowy-soft lips. And you’re whining into the sheets, writhing beneath the heavy weight of him as he presses into you. 

“Honey, I’m so sorry.”

His words make you frown. Inhaling a breath, you turn your head. “For what, baby?”

“I didn’t,” And then he takes a second to breathe, swallowing. “I didn’t make you cum.” 

“Baby, it’s -”

“Let me do it on my tongue.” 

“Daddy,” He’s sliding out of you so quickly that it hurts, that subtle sting resonating through your hips from his girth.

Dragging you down the bed are the strength of his hands, securing around your ankles while he kneels at the end of the bedspread. But before putting his mouth on you, he flips you onto your back. 

“Let me see that pretty face.” His deep, raspy voice requests. And he smiles when you lift your head.

Leaning back on your forearms, you watch with bated breath as he lifts your legs, letting the rest on his shoulders. While keeping your gaze, he moves in, kissing your thigh’s sensitive skin. 

“Baby,” You’re trying to get his attention, but he ignores it. “I wanna talk, talk to you.” 

Closing his eyes, his head dips down, tongue laying out. It runs up through your folds, now leaking with him. Jesus, he’s so enamored with you. 

“Jack.”

But he’s too distracted, moaning at your combined taste as his tongue swipes through your delicate sex. Both hands run over your thighs, gripping the sweet flesh with those thick and talented digits. 

Reaching down, you run your fingers through his clean-styled hair, curling them around the dark strands and yanking him away from your sex. He releases you with a grunt, mouth hanging open as he exudes thick and heavy breaths. Now, you have his attention. 

“So,” You finally say, smiling further up on the bed while you too, catch your breath. “You’re taking me to Italy?”