#bring your ex love back in London
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Helpful Ex- L. Norris
Lando Norris x Ex girlfriend! Reader
Your ex finally comes around to pick up his things but finds you in an interesting situation
Warnings?; SMUT, masturbation(f), coming in pants(m), p I v, unprotected sex(use protection!!!), praising, dirty talk, Lando being a little shit, cursing, fingering, literally porn with a somewhat plot
Lightly proofread, sorry for any errors!
A frustrated cry left your mouth at the unsatisfied feeling, the burning in your stomach was so strong but you couldn’t reach the edge. You’d been trying for weeks to get a release but no matter what you did or tried, nothing helped
The knock at your front door was what caused your hand to fly out of your panties, and the ding coming from your phone made you realize who it was knocking at the door.
“One second!” You yelled, jumping out of bed and throwing on your discarded shorts before making your way towards the front door.
“Hi” you breathed up at the blue eyed man
“Hey, you okay?” He questioned, you two had spent enough time together for him to realize the frustrated look in your eyes.
“Uh yeah, just tired. Come in I’ll grab your box” you smiled opening the door wider for him.
Your relationship with the British driver had lasted a loving three years and came to an agreed ending. With you living in London, he in Monaco, and the constant traveling of his job you both realized you’d became more of friends rather than lovers.
You had broken up about four months ago but due to his constant traveling the Brit had only just gotten around to coming back to London.
When you returned you found him sitting at your kitchen island, snacking on the cookies you had baked the night before.
“These are fucking amazing” he praised with a mouth fool of said cookie.
With a small giggle you thanked him before sitting across from him.
“How’ve you been?” You asked
“Good, The teams been doing pretty well so that’s always nice. How about you? Max said you found yourself a little play thing at the club the other night” he smirked.
You blushed at the boys comment, “that little rat. It Didn’t get very far anyways” you shrugged.
“Yeah why’s that?” He laughed picking up another cookie.
“He uh..he came in his pants” you mumbled
“He what?” Lando crackled.
“Lando it’s not funny! We were you know..making out and next thing I knew he was pushing me off and there was a wet spot on his jeans.”
“It’s not I’m sorry! But it’s not that embarrassing I mean you’ve made me cum in my pants. As long as he finished you off that’s all that matters” he shrugged bringing his cookie up to his lips but the look on your face stopped him.
“He did finish you off right?” He questioned slowly.
“Um,no” you blushed awkwardly
“Your joking right?” He scoffed at the shake of your head.
“I’m sorry he got you all hot and bothered, came in his pants and then ran out?” He clarified.
“Yeah..”
“Oh baby” he laughed standing up and rounding the island to your side.
“S’ not funny Lan” you scolded looking up at him as he towered over your sitting frame.
“Your right I’m sorry honey” he muttered looking down at you with darkening eyes.
“S’ That what was wrong when I got here?” He questioned.
“Wa-what do you mean?” You mumbled hoping he didn’t actually catch on to what you had been doing before he arrived.
“You were touching yourself weren’t you? I seen the frustration in your eyes and the blush covering your face. You’ve been trying to get yourself off since that night haven’t you?” He smirked.
Your head dropped at the boys affirmation, he was one hundred percent correct and you couldn’t deny it. You were a virgin before Lando and through your entire relationship you always had him to get you off. Of course you’d touched yourself when he was away but it was always guided by his voice over the phone.
“Don’t go shy on me now baby, it’s okay. You’re just a spoiled little brat that’s never had to do anything for herself before.” He tutted, slipping a finger under your chin you bring your eyes back on his.
Your thighs clenched at his words, you hadn’t gotten a proper orgasm since the last time he’d gotten you off with his fingers in between your thighs while you sat in the passenger seat of his McLaren.
“Lando..” you whined as his fingers slipped down your run over your thighs.
“You want my help baby? Need me to take care of you?” He asked.
“Yes. Please.” You whimpered.
Your confirmation was all it took for the boy to pick you up and take off down the hall towards your bedroom.
He tossed you onto the soft bed before stripping off his hoodie and shoes and climbing over your body. He leaned down to place a teasing peck onto your lips, lightly nipping at your bottom lip.
Tired of his teasing you slipped your fingers into his soft curls and pulled him down for your lips to meet in a deep kiss. A low groan escaping Lando’s throat at the way you slightly tugged on his roots, he missed the way your fingers felt tangled in his hair.
“Missed you so much baby.” He whispered as he detached his lips from yours, beginning a trail down the column of your throat.
“Me too” you whimpered, head tipping back to allow him more access to your delicate skin.
“Can I take this off?” He questioned as he tugged on the hem of your hoodie, that actually belonged to him.
“Mhm” you nodded, smirking at the growl that came from his mouth when he realized that’s all you were wearing on your top half.
“Gonna kill me one day baby” he groaned laying his head against your bare chest.
You giggled as his bright eyes looked into yours before he leaned over and attached his lips to one of your breasts. A sharp whine breaking from your throat at the sensation of his warm mouth, his hand reaching over and pinching the bud between his fingers.
“God lando” you moaned as he sucked on the bud, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin-Just the way you liked.
He continued his assault on your breasts for a moment before finally pulling away and trailing his lips further down your body till he reached the waistline of your cloth shorts.
He looked up at you for confirmation before pulling the material off your body, you gave him a nod and he quickly pulled them down your soft legs.
“So wet baby” he spoke at the sight of your wet panties, moving them to the side to reveal your puffy clit.
You gasped at the feeling of his thick fingers running through your folds, keeping his touch feather light to tease you.
He slowly worked his middle finger inside you, smirking at the moan that broke free from your mouth as he added his ring finger.
His fingers moved skillfully inside you, moving back and forth with such care that he had you withering and crying out above him. Your fingers gripped the sheets as you called out his name over and over.
He worked you till he couldn’t take it anymore, from the way you moaned his name and how tight you were hugging his fingers. He needed to be inside of you, needed to feel you wrapped around his cock again.
“Why’d you stop” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.
“Gonna fuck you now baby” He smirked as he came up to place a hot kiss on your lips before removing himself from the bed to take his remaining clothes off.
You sat up on your elbows to watch him strip, he removed his shirt slowly-teasingly. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of his naked upper half, it was obvious he’d been devoting a bit more time to training. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to reveal his light gray boxers, a small patch had formed from his precum.
He pulled off his boxers revealing his hard cock, it smacked against his lower stomach.the sight caused your mouth to water, missing the weight of it on your tongue.
He crawled his way back up the bed to rest over you, slotting himself between your thighs as he gripped the shaft of his cock, guiding his length towards you entrance, teasing the tip up and down your folds.
“Fuck, don’t tease lan, please” you begged from below him.
“So polite baby, that’s my good girl” He praised as he thrusted his hips into yours and set a slow pace.
“Oh fuck” you cried at the feeling of him being inside you again.
He locked his lips with yours, one of his hands coming up to rest on the base of your throat giving it a light squeeze.
“Feel so good for me baby, can’t believe someone passed this up. Didn’t know what he was missing out on” he rambled above you.
He gripped your legs, wrapping them around his lower half as he picked up his pace, sounds of slapping skin and moans filling the room.
Your freshly manicured nails ranked down his back as his tip hit the spongy spot inside you, “ahh, god. Feels so good Lan” you cried into his neck.
“Yeah? You miss my cock baby? Miss how I fill you up?” He teased.
“Yes, fuck yes I did. Missed all of you Lando” you admitted to the green eyed man above you.
Your moans became downright pornographic as he moved his thumb in circles on your clit, fingers digging further into his skin as your back arched.
“I’m getting close love” he moaned into your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses along the skin.
“Me to baby, so close” you cried, fingers moving into his hair to tug at the curly locks.
You could feel the tightness in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter, as his thumb continued to work your clit and his mouth spewed dirty words at you.
You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy as his hands dug into the sides of your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.
“Fuck lan-I’m gonna cum” you cried out below him.
“Go ahead baby, I’ve got you. Come for me like the good girl you are.” He encouraged as he moved your legs up over his shoulders to thrust at a deeper angle.
And that you did, fingers digging into his skin so hard it caused the man to groan out at the feeling. His own moans getting whiny and whinier as he got closer to his own high.
“Cum for me Lando” you encouraged into the Brits ear.
“Fuck, I’m coming” he cried as he pushed out one more hard thrust and stilled as he spilled inside of you.
He collapsed on top of you once he came down from his high, your hand slipped into his curls as you placed light kisses to his head.
His own lips ran along your collarbone as he nuzzled into you, he always became quite the clinger after sex.
You both laid there for a moment before he pulled his head from your chest and looked up at you with a soft look in his eyes.
“Hi” you smiled at him.
“Hi darling” he smiled back warmly as he reached up the brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Can I spend the night?” He asked quietly.
“You can stay for as long as you’d like” you replied before leaning down and giving him a sweet kiss.
-
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#f1 smut#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1
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— loose lips sink ships pt4
pairing: jessie fleming x reader pt 1, pt2, pt3
synopsis: jessie’s lack of proper explanation has her pleading
warnings: so so angsty, language
a/n: lol
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
the tick of your eyebrow tells jessie that this isn’t going to be one of those times when you two talk it out.
“great!” you say clapping your hands “so do you mind telling me why you said that bullshit instead of behind honest with me about your two and a half year relationship?” your falsely cheery tone paired with the sarcastic smile across your face is unsettling for jessie. “and while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me what the problem with this photo is?” you say as you slide your phone across the counter. the photo that was on jordyn’s story stares back at jessie.
“y/n” the canadian starts “i really— it’s not—” she huffs and scrubs a hand over her face. “i was standing up before the photo and she moved over so i could sit down. there wasn’t much room so we had to squish together, and she stood up pretty much immediately after the photo was taken”
you nod once as you purse your lips “and the lying?”
“i didn’t mean to” jessie says, now leaning back “it just came out and i don’t know why i didn’t correct myself”
her reasoning makes you feel worse. you think you maybe would’ve preferred her purposely lie and stick to it, rather than stick to an accidental lie for almost four years. tears begin to well in your eyes as you watch jessie cast her gaze to the floor in front of her.
“so you kept up with an accidental lie for almost four years because… what? because you couldn’t tell me the truth afterwards? because you didn’t think it was anything? like, what was the reason, jessie”
“it’s not like i thought about it!” jessie stresses “it never came up again so i forgot about it”
“until you saw her again, right?” you spit at her, folding your arms over your chest.
your girlfriend stays silent and rolls her head on her neck. she continues to not say anything as she scuffs her shoes against the floor.
you can’t help but laugh at yourself. you feel stupid, so, so stupid. “it took you less than twenty four hours to, what?, second guess your four year long relationship? are you—”
“i’m not second guessing shit” she says, now looking at you “don’t even start with that”
“start with what jessie?” you raise your voice and push off the wall “start with the fact that there’s every chance that i’m just a rebound you got in too deep with? that we were seeing eachother and you weren’t over her?”
jessie pinches her eyebrows together “you weren’t a rebound! i wasn’t even looking to date when janine introduced us—”
“because you were still in love with her”
“jesus christ, will you let me finish?” jessie grits out.
“when you start telling me something that’s gonna make me believe that our whole relationship isn’t just because i was the first person shoved under your nose when you got to london” you sneer at her.
jessie deflates, her hands going lax by her sides “is that seriously what you think?” she asks quietly “that i only started dating you because you were there?”
“what am i supposed to think, jess? that it was a coincidence that we started dating just after you get out of an almost three year long relationship?” tears fall down your face at the thought of janine introducing the two of you so jessie could get over her ex. you turn your face away from her and sniffle.
“it was a coincidence” jessie stresses “i didn’t want to date anybody, and janine thought i needed friends outside of the club so she introduced us. that’s seriously it” she says as she approaches you carefully.
you look at her through tears “did seeing her again bring up old feelings?”
jessie hesitates and bites the inside of her cheek before looking away. you don’t try to get her to look at you, don’t try to get her to answer you quicker, you simply just wait. it’s only now that you get to fully take in what she looks like. her unbrushed bed head, her oversized ‘i heart aus’ t-shirt she wears to sleep, the way one sock is kind of flopping off her foot whilst the other is still on. the version of jessie in front of you is your normal, your safe space.
this version of jessie likes her eggs made a particular way and buries herself under the covers to avoid the sun when she wants to sleep in; she wakes you up with kisses all over you face and tells you corny jokes, and she doesn’t have the weight of a nation’s expectations on her shoulders. she’s carefree and so full of love that sometimes she doesn’t know what to do with it.
this jessie is the love of your life, and right now you feel like you’re watching her slip through your fingers.
when you watch silent tears fall down her face you know you’ve got your answer. you shut your eyes “right” you say coldly before turning around and heading for your shared bedroom.
jessie’s head snaps towards your retreating form “wait, y/n!”
“jessie i can’t” you say as you grab a bag out of your closet. you begin pulling clothes you know you’ll need: training, home and away kits, socks, underwear, pyjamas, a few shirts and jeans. you count them in your head and then stuff them in your bag just as jessie comes into the room.
“what are you doing!?” she half shouts as she closes the wardrobe “can you please let me explain before you take off?”
you don’t stop walking around your shared bedroom “i just gave you a chance to and you couldn’t look me in the eye” you spit at her, not turning around to look at her.
a fresh wave of tears fall down jessie’s face “i was trying to figure out what to say, y/n, please!”
she walks around the bed to you, putting her hand over yours when you open your bedside drawer to grab your watch. her hand is warm and soft wrapped around yours and you are filled with the overwhelming urge to give into her. you turn your head to face her.
“p-please” she stutters “i swear, i have an explanation for all of it” she whispers to you, trying to hold eye contact through teary eyes “please don’t leave”
you own lip trembles “i need to, for a few days at least” you whisper back to her, pulling your hand out from under hers “it’ll give you time to think about whatever it is you want to say”
“but i don’t need time, i—”
“i do” you interrupt “you have no idea what finding this out has done to me, jess. i just need to step back”
the canadian looks defeated as you move to your bathroom to pack up your toiletries bag. she’s rooted to her spot and find herself wondering how she got here when it was only yesterday morning the two of you were rolling around in bed giggling.
she harshly wipes her tears as you slip your shoes on. the sight of her makes you want to drop everything and wrap your arms around her, make sure she knows that you still love her, but you can’t. you can’t stand here and deny yourself time apart, even if it is just a day or two.
“i’m gonna go stay with sam” you sigh “i just— i really think we both need a little bit of time”
jessie helplessly nods “okay” she whispers as you pick up your bag “i love you”
you bite your lip and turn to her, the weight of the duffel bag in your hands suddenly getting a lot heavier “i love you too” you whisper back to her, hopefully not for the last time.
#jflemings woso#jflemings writes#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#jessie fleming fic#jessie fleming angst#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fic#woso angst
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The Museum
W.C. - 5.2 k
this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded
thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)
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The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.
It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.
The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.
The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.
The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.
Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.
“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.
“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.
“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.
“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.
“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.
The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.
In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.
“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.
“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.
“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.
“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.
“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are.
“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take.
She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman.
“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.
You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.
“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.
“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.
“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.
“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face.
“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.
“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.
At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.
The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam.
Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.
The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.
“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.
Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.
“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t.
“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.
“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.
It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.
“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.
It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.
You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.
Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.
“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.
They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love.
“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.
“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.
“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.
“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.
“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.
“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.
“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.
“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.
Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start.
Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.
It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.
At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.
When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.
It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.
It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded.
Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game.
When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.
She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.
Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.
Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game.
“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.
“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks.
“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?”
“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.
“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.
“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.
“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.
“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.
“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.
“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.
“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.
“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.
“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.
“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.
“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.
“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.
“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.
“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.
“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.
“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.
“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.
“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.
“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder.
“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.
“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.”
All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.
“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go.
Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.
“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you.
“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.
Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.
“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable.
“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.
When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.
“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded.
“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.
“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.
“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.
It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.
Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.
“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;
“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.
Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?
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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!
ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader
word count: 4437
summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?
warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe
taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]
a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3
© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
May 15th Heppenheim, Germany
“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”
You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.
You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.
You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.
The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on.
You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.
Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up.
Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).
"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"
The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.
Like the five years since you last saw Seb.
"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."
"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."
"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..."
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.
You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.
"Hanna, no..."
"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.
"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."
"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.
"Hanna..."
"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.
Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.
As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.
You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.
But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.
You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.
"Hi..."
You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.
Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.
“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!
She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.
Now, it was just the two of you, alone.
Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello."
You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.
“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Hi, Seb.”
He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you.
He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.
You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned.
How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?
“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.
You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.
“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.
You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.
He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.
“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”
But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.
Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.
“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”
“Y/N…”
“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”
You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.
“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.
“Seb…”
“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”
Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.
You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.
“Well, Y/N, tell me…”
“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”
He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.
“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”
“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”
“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”
He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.
“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.
“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”
You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.
Just like you were doing now.
“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.
“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”
“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”
He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.
“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”
You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.
The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.
“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”
“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”
More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.
You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.
“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”
And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.
Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.
“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”
“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”
“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”
“Wait, wait… a record deal?”
“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”
His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.
If that was true…
“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”
“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”
His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.
“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”
“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”
You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.
Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.
You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.
“Y/N, darling…”
“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”
“But, Y/N…”
“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”
“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”
“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.”
And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.
Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:
“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”
“What?” you asked, confused.
“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”
His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.
“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.
“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”
You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.
You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.
“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”
You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.
Who's gonna stop us from waltzing Back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway We embroidered the memories Of the time I was away Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’ I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’ I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since.
Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.
You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed? Cause something counterfeit's dead.
Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.
Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’ Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire Your arson matches your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die You're the loss of my life.
Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.
Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”
“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.
He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.
“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”
“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”
“Can I sit next to you?”
You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside.
You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”
“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”
“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”
You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”
Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react.
How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?
You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.
But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.
“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”
He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.
“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”
You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else.
You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.
“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”
“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.
You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.
“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”
“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”
Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.
#formula 1#f1#sebastian vettel#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 angst#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel angst#ferrari#sebastian vettel fic#formula 1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#sebastian vettel f1#sebastian vettel x female reader#sebastian vettel x you#ferrari f1#ferrari seb#goodbyes are bittersweet series
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⛧°。 ⋆༺living dead girl༻⋆。 °⛧
﹒⌗﹒characters with a vampire s/o﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧
.⋆♱ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬. ✮: hobie brown, jennifer check, maddy perez, billy loomis, johnny cage
.⋆♱ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. ✮: saw my girl meg, and couldn’t get over miguel and damon soo.. enjoy these small drabbles of my baes meeting their vampire hottie 😘
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐
゚ ⋆ ゚hobie brown ☂︎ ⋆ ゚he honestly is ok with the fact that you’re a vampire. he thinks that’s it hardcore and such an anachronist move. whenever you feel a bit thirsty and needs your patch of blood, he’ll simply web you down to the local streets of london, and let you have it at criminals and bad guys. of course, the sex is ten times more intense, with you wanting to bite him, but choosing not to. but he insists, telling you to let your inner rebel out, and let the fangs reign over him. you promised him that you’re the only man that you won’t bite or kill, and you also agreed with him that you want hurt any of his friends (miles, pav, peter b, miguel..) you’re so happy that you’re dating such a supercool and awesome spiderman, and he’s so against the rules. and he’s so happy that he’s dating such a hot ass vampire chick, that eats whoever she wants, and doesn’t care of what comes in her way. you two are such a perfect match <3.
゚ ⋆ ゚jennifer check ☂︎ ⋆ ゚jennifer thinks you’re hot. she thinks that she found her perfect match, with her being a succubus, and she wants you to and join her on her killing spree sometimes. it’s so fun seeing two girlfriends kill unsuspecting boys using their fangs and super strength. she’ll take you back to her place, whenever you both are done, and things escalate from there. even if you can do this, she’ll always try and protect you from any harm that comes your way. she already lost herself, she doesn’t want to love another thing that she loves in her life. arguments over who’s the better supernatural tend to happen, and it often ends with one of you sleeping on the couch, but she’s quick to make amends and ask for cuddles. you both go for midnight flys, chasing after each other in the clouds, and playing hide and seek. you also talk about your traumas on how you died, and then reassure each other that you’re loved and here for one another, and jennifer promises you that she’ll never leave you.
゚ ⋆ ゚maddy perez ☂︎ ⋆ ゚maddy is lowkey terrified of you, but she still tries to manage with you anyways. move over nate, you’re the person that’s worth defending from anybody. but you’re not letting her be your pushover, you vowed to protect maddy from any toxic ex boyfriends, back stabbing best friends, harsh and strict mothers, and just anyone that tries to do her the wrong way. even thought dating a vampire has its advantages, you two do get into arguments. she doesn’t want you coming to parties, because she’s scared that you might go after her friends, especially you trying to go after cassie or rue. and, she’s also afraid for your wellbeing if you get a hangover. she believe the whole vampire myth of sunlight, and tries to keep you away from any alcohol as possible. you also get mad her, telling her that she’s not your mom, and often leave her place in the middle of the night. but you came crawling back and beg for her forgiveness. she forgives you<3
゚ ⋆ ゚billy loomis ☂︎ ⋆ ゚he thinks you’re a dream come true. he was quick to believe the whole vampire myths about sunlight, garlic, and steaks and stuff. but you just tell him that you’re not dracula or from twilight, and tell him the realities of being a vampire. billy is so sweet with you, whenever you’re feeling hungry, he goes out as ghostface and lures them to you, basically bringing you a midnight snack <33 you both go out your way to make anyone deadmeat, if they try and talk bad about each of you. he tells stu about you, and stu is always making a vampire type of pun, even in front of people, almost blowing your cover. billy had to smack him a few times for that. billy’s blood kink with you, goes a thousand times higher up in bed. always telling you to dig your fangs deeper, so deep.. so deep that it’ll cause some blood. he knows you like blood. he’ll go out his way to gut anyone like a fish for you, just so you can have blood.
゚ ⋆ ゚johnny cage ☂︎ ⋆ ゚johnny cage lives in a world, where can throw hands with the ruler of the sun, and flirt with the beautiful yet equally terrifying nitara. if you not being a vampire isn’t any different, then he’s not sure what else is. he’s your golden retriever type of boyfriend, always wanting your attention, even when you’re out for a snack. you just deadass look at this man, trying to flex his muscles and wiggle his eyebrows at you, when your face is literally covered in an innocent person’s blood. he’s also being so affectionate with you, suffocating you with hugs and kisses, posting you on his social media the minute you breathe, and always talking about you to his friends. sure, he may be suffocating and annoying, but deep down you love your movie star boyfriend. but of course, you wear the pants in this relationship. the second he steps out of line, you bring the fangs and scary eyes out, and he backs up and apologizes immediately.
#hobie brown#jennifer check#maddy perez#billy loomis#johnny cage#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown imagine#jennifer check x reader#jennifer check x you#jennifer check x y/n#jennifer check imagine#maddy perez x reader#maddy perez x you#maddy perez imagine#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis x you#billy loomis x y/n#billy loomis imagine#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage x you#johnny cage x y/n#johnny cage imagine#atsv imagine#atsv x reader#atsv x you#jennifers body#euphoria x reader#mortal kombat1
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"types of date the f1 drivers would love"
Charles Leclerc
Exercise Dates: Charles has a newfound love for workouts, he realises as he watches you expertly straighten your arms — the ones currently holding onto the weight bar like a pro. You had convinced him to join you in a morning yoga class, claiming it did wonders for mental health. Like the stupid in-love fool he is, he had agreed, on the condition that you would join him in a gym session. In his head, you were completely taken by his impressive show of strength in a new environment. That was not the case. And to make matters worse, the bicep curls you two had did earlier had resulted in a little, minor, unnoticeable tingle in the back of his spine that sent blood rushing to the bottom half of his body.
Carlos Sainz
Nature Dates: Mountains were for hiking and running and the occasional stargazing session when he was in the mood for it. What he was unaware of, was their ability to host camping sessions. But you did. And you had asked him with unmistakable joy in your twinkling eyes. So now here he was, sitting on a camping chair that you had set up. In fact, everything was set up by you — the chairs, tent, fire. You had even brought metal sticks specifically for roasting marshmallows, which was what the pair of you were doing now. He watched as you purposefully burned your marshmallow, fanning out the flames that had engulfed the treat. It was quiet in the background and unlike in the city, he found himself fully focused on you.
Daniel Ricciardo
Driving Dates: He thought you were mad when you brought up a road trip. But he went along, thinking that a little road trip through Australia couldn’t be that extreme. He was so wrong. First, because it wasn’t through Australia and second, because he had forgotten you were the one planning. So now here he was, listening to your off-tune rendition of Coast by Hailee Steinfeld as he drives through what he is 60% sure is Wanaka in bloody New Zealand. The weather could not be more perfect, with amber coloured leaves decorating the trees and ground and the morning sun still shining through the mountains. You offer a chip to him, holding the delicate thing out between your fingers. He takes it without a second thought. In his opinion, being with you made the best dates.
George Russell
Educational Experiences: It was supposed to be a public conference about dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum. And you had plans to go alone, take some time to yourself, enjoy the strange bout of nice weather London has been bestowed. George was the one who had invited himself and waited by the door. And how were you to say no, while the man was dressed like an academic, even going the extra mile of wearing glasses. So you spent a quiet, calming few hours listening intently to a few speakers then touring the museum with your hand tucked into his. It was a nice feeling, sharing your intellectual interests with him and having him actually pay attention unlike some other ex-boyfriends you've had. Maybe you would invite him on a few more dates like these from now on.
Lando Norris
Adventurous Outings: He had brought you because it was what he did as a child and you two were on a trip to visit his parents and hometown so it only made sense. Then he saw you having the time of your life, racing down straights and winding round corners. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair matted but you had clutched to his arms and asked if you could do another round. Now, it was his personal mission to bring you go-karting in as many tracks as possible. It also helps that he actually (secretly) likes losing to you, because you spend the rest of the day with the biggest grin on your face and nothing beats seeing you like that. He also likes the little kisses you give to comfort his "bruised ego", but he will deny it till the world ends.
Lewis Hamilton
Group Socializing: He loved this. He thinks he can die happy like this. Okay, maybe not. But this would definitely be one of the scenes that would flit through his mind while he was dying. The immense rush of serotonin that fills his brains and muscles when he sees you fluttering around the room should be studied. His eyes never leave your form, clad in a simple cream dress, the perfect contrast to the glow of your skin. You pour bubbly champagne for his friends and have little interactions with the kids scattered around the room which sends them giggling. The adults are enthralled by you too, countless eyes lingering on your form as you leave their small groups. He can’t blame them – being the most shameless one ever. But even so, he’s the only one who can wrap his arms around your tiny waist, pulling you into his chest, the beam on your lips the brightest thing he’s seen all day.
Max Verstappen
Romantic Retreats: Being away from his simulator for this long felt a little weird. He acknowledged the tingly feeling in the back of his spine every morning when he woke up in the largest bed he had ever seen, looking out onto the turquoise ocean. The sea breeze that greeted him this morning was cool, and his robe hung alone beside the bathroom door. The other was wrapped around the figure gazing out onto said sea out on the exposed balcony. Someone has been by the private island with breakfast, he notes, smelling the spread of breakfast foods from the adjoining dining room. He would join you soon, thick white robe around his shoulders and you between his arms, but until then, he lets the tingly feeling settle and just enjoys the view.
#f1 imagine#f1 headcanons#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#george russell fluff#george russell x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#my writing#itsvelyria
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back for another rec!
looking for a possessive harry, *especially* if he say or thinks “mine” (!!!)
thanks so much!
Your wish is my command! 🫡🫡
Devour by @digthewriter (E, 1k)
"We fight we break up. | We kiss we make up." Jealous Harry is jealous.
Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6k)
Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.
Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)
Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.
Once Upon a (Wet) Dream by InnerLilith (E, 13k)
Once a year, Harry has a very strange dream. Meanwhile, in real life, he’s falling for Draco Malfoy.
I've Waited Here for You (Everlong) by heyitsamorette (E, 23k)
Ever since Ginny started dating Blaise, Harry has had to see a lot of Blaise’s friends as well… and with them comes Malfoy. Everyone’s too focused on rebuilding the world after the war to notice that Malfoy is still a dick, so they don’t seem to mind letting him into their little group. But Harry remembers everything, and when he’s not having nightmares from the war or training to become an Auror, he is doing his best not to let himself become friends with Draco Malfoy. And friends with benefits is not actually friends… is it?
In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 24k)
Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”
on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)
Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.
what husbands are for by @softlystarstruck (E, 52k)
To settle tensions between werewolves and vampires, Harry volunteers for a political marriage. But it turns out he's marrying Malfoy– cold, untouchable Malfoy, who he hasn't seen in ten years. Throughout contention and politics, werewolf pub nights and grudgingly shared meals, they have to make it work. And in the midst of it all, Harry finds something he already gave up hoping for.
Lemon Colour, Honey Glow by @thusspoketrish (E, 67k)
Over a series of unfortunate pub nights at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco Malfoy falls in love. A story about finding strength and forgiveness in unlikely places.
Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)
What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.
Bonus: dark!Harry (pls mind the tags)
I Love You by Curlee_Cue (M, 18k)
Harry knows what love is. It’s something that grows. Something that adapts. Something that sometimes needs a little help along the way. (or the one in which Harry loses his mind)
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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike
Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?
Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader
Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.
Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)
Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.
Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.
Divider by the amazing @saradika
Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”
“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.
“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.
“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.
There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.
He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.
Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.
“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.
“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”
Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”
The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.
“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”
You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”
Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.
“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”
Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”
It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.
“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.
You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”
Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.
Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.
“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.
“A few weeks, probably.”
“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”
“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”
Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.
And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.
It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.
“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.
You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”
And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”
When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.
“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.
“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”
You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.
“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.
“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.
“That’ll be a no then.”
There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.
“You look well.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.
“So do you.” You compliment back.
There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.
“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.
You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”
“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”
He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”
You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”
Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.
“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”
“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to show you?”
He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.
“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.
“Second.”
He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.
“Which room?”
It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.
It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.
He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.
Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.
“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”
“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.
Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.
A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”
You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”
“And if I asked you not to?”
“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”
You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”
He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”
You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.
So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”
“Good girl.”
It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.
His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.
Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.
Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.
He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.
“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”
He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.
“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”
He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.
Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”
Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.
“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”
So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.
“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”
“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”
And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.
“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.
“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”
He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.
There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.
“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.
“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.
“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”
Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.
He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.
“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”
It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.
Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.
“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”
“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”
She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”
There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.
“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”
She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.
“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.
“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”
When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.
“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.
“I’ve been looking at you.”
“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”
“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”
He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.
Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.
Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.
“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”
“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”
His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.
“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”
“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.
“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”
“Always, Marcus.”
He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.
Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.
“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”
He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.
“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”
“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.
It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.
“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”
“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“What do you want?”
“Make me come?”
You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.
It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.
“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”
You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.
You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.
“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”
He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”
“Please, Marcus, please.”
Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.
He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.
You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.
You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.
It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.
“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”
He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”
Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.
Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.
Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.
Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.
“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.
“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.
“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.
“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”
You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”
“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”
You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”
“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”
“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”
You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.
“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”
You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.
“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”
He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”
“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”
“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“What are you doing Wednesday night?”
“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”
“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”
Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”
#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike Smut#Marcus Pike x reader#Marcus Pike x you#marcus pike fanfiction#Marcus Pike x female reader#Marcus Pike x F!reader#Marcus Pike fic#Marcus Pike fanfic#the mentalist#the mental illness is winning#the mentalist fanfic#the mentalist fanfiction#Pedro pascal#marcus pike fluff#Marcus Pike angst#Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal#Marcus Pike The mentalist
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falling for mccabe
lia wälti x reader
don’t really know how to feel about this
———
You and Katie were like two pease in a pod. Growing up, you had different interests, but that didn’t stop you from supporting one another. You moved away from Ireland first, wanting a change in scenery, be more independent. So when you got hired at a hospital in London, you accepted right away. Telling Katie was the hardest part of leaving home.
Just two years later though, Katie signed for Arsenal, the choice was a no brainer for her. She got herself her own apartment but came over to yours as much as she can. Her team, once they were all comfortable and got to know each other better, would tease her, saying that she needs her big sissy cuddles. Katie, however, was never once embarrassed by the teasing. She loves to be able to call her her big sister.
You never really got to know any of her teammates from Arsenal until after the lockdown. Katie’s teammates told her to invite you over to the club. You got along with the team, some more than others, and maybe got to bring one of them home with you.
The same person you brought home was now your very secret girlfriend. You were going to tell Katie the moment it became official, but you found out from your girlfriend that your sister’s girlfriend was her ex-girlfriend and became stuck.
You and your girlfriend were still fast asleep, your arm slung over her waist, holding her close that you didn’t hear your front door opening and steps coming closer to your bedroom.
“Rise and shi—WHAT THE FUCK!”
You shoot up from the bed, falling over the side, bumping the side of your head on your bedside table. Lia gets out of bed just as fast.
“Ow.”
“Oh, baby.” Lia crawls over the bed to you, her hand replacing the side of your head that you were rubbing.
“Baby?” Caitlin speaks for the first time.
“Couldn’t you fucking knock. Fucking almost killed me you cunt.”
“Oi! I don’t appreciate that tine, missy!”
“I’m older so I can talk to you how I want.”
“Woah. Okay, sassy.” Lia covers your mouth with her hand. “Why don’t you both wait in the living room while we put some more clothes on.”
Caitlin drags Katie out to the living room by her arm. A minute later, Lia comes out and Katie walks back towards the bedroom, leaving the two exes by themselves.
“Would you like something to drink?” Lia asks.
“A coffee would be good. One cream—”
“—Two sugars.”
“You remember.” Lia gives her a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to reply. “So… how long has that been going on?”
“Uh, a year or so ago now. Since that time at the bar after lockdown.”
“No way.” Caitlin states in disbelief.
“What?”
“That’s when Katie and I started seeing each other.”
“Wow.” Lia whispers, shocked with the information. “Who would’ve thought we’d fall for a McCabe at the same time.”
“Don’t sound so shocked baby. I’ll have you know that I am quite the catch.”
“It’s the Irish genes I tell you.”
Both of the sisters’ girlfriends roll their eyes at their cockiness.
“Know what’d be funny?” Katie looks at you and you smirk in understanding.
“What is it?” Caitlin asks impatiently.
“You and Lia are still friends right? No hard feelings?” You ask.
“Yeah…” They were both now skeptical.
“Why don’t we mess with your fans for a bit.”
“What do you have in mind?” Lia wraps an arm around your waist, now very curious.
“Nothing too crazy. Just start interacting more. Be best friends. You’ll be in-laws sooner than later anyway.”
The next few days, the fans have been gong crazy over all of the Caitlin and Lia interaction they were seeing. Walking out of the coach together, walking to the locker room together, walking out to the pitch together, celebrating goals together, signing/taking photos with fans together. Are they together? Everyone was confused, including their teammates and national teammates, but they both simply ignore all questions.
You had a very rare day off from your job which lined up with Arsenal’s off day, so what better way to celebrate than to stay home and get drunk. Katie has been known to be a crazy drinker and knowing you just a short time, its safe to say where Katie got it from.
You and Katie were drunk, at the phase where everything is funny. Lia and Caitlin are a bit tipsy, still in control of themselves. Ever since catching you and Lia in bed together two weeks ago, the two became close again, like before. No romantic feeling left for each other and care now very good friends, you and Katie being a common denominator.
Caitlin and Lia were in the living room when they no longer heard the two of you. A silent McCabe meant something was wrong, but two silent McCabes… they knew you were up to no good. They slowly crept into the kitchen, hoping to catch what the two of you were up to, going unnoticed. They were both greeted by the sight of the siblings focused on something on Katie’s phone, identical furrowed eyebrows on you faces.
“What are you two up to?” Lia asks cautiously.
“Hey!” You perk up from the sound of your girlfriend’s voice. “Katie is doing this instagram thing and I’m just a bit confused.”
“Yeah, cause you’re old and don’t know how to use social media.”
“Well, what would I post? “‘Hey, instagram! I’ve just finished fixing up this person’s brain for ten hours.”’ You like have to be on it.”
“Are you allowed to take pictures while you’re in the operating room?”
“I’d probably have to get some consent forms signed.”
“You should facetime me sometime.”
“Wait. What is it you don’t understand?” Caitlin now asks.
is that caitlin? did i hear caitlin’s voice i heard lia’s earlier caitlin and lia together again??
“It keeps saying your names now. How does instagram know your names?” You were very confused now. Your drunk self couldn’t make sense of anything.
“Give me that.”
Lia grabs the phone off the table, Lia looking over her shoulder to take a look herself.
“Ohmygod.” Caitlin was quick to move the phone away from her face, setting it on the table face up. “Katie!”
“Yes, sugarplum?” Katie answered at the same time you asked, “Did you figure it out or not?”
“You’re on instagram live!”
People watching the live are now freaking out. Some confused, but most are freaking out at the quick sight of Caitlin and Lia together.
“Okay, um, we have to go. Bye guys.” Lia quickly ends the live.
Just second later, both Caitlin and Lia’s phones are ringing from calls and messages from their friends.They looked at each other and silenced their phones, making sue to turn off the tracking privileges for some of their friends. No one would be able to find them as you were all at your house.
“Want to just post something to freak people out more?’
“Great idea.”
———
liked by leahwilliamson, caitlinfoord and 48,738 others
liawalti from exes to in-laws
view all comments
leahwilliamson huh?
kyracooneyx PARENTS!
katie_mccabe11 hi sister in-law
↳ caitlinfoord how’d you get your phone back?
↳ katie_mccabe11 a magician never reveals their secrets
ynmccabe hi, honey!
↳ liawalti since when did you get instagram?
↳ ynmccabe right now. katie did it for me
user now that’s gold
user not everyone freaking out that they got back together
↳ user me… i was everyone
user not you two falling for sisters
#woso x reader#greynatomy#woso#woso imagines#woso imagine#lia walti#lia walti x reader#lia wälti#lia wälti x reader#arsenal#arsenal x reader#arsenal women
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Wonderstruck
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader
Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),
Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding
A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3
He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.
As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.
It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...
Where would he be now if only he listened?
What if you knew better?
He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.
“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.
“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.
“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.
It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.
With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.
“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.
“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.
That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.
That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.
“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.
A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.
“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”
He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.
Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”
Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.
“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”
And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.
For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.
It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.
Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.
The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.
Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.
"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.
You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.
"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.
He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.
With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.
A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."
While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.
"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.
"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"
"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.
You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.
You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.
A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.
Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.
With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.
"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."
"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.
As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.
Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.
With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.
~~~~~~~
forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#my writing#song fic#taylor swift#cardigan#simon riley x reader angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#simon ghost riley x ex!reader#simon riley x ex!reader#simon riley x cbf!reader#simon ghost riley x cbf!reader#biker!simon riley#song fics
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Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?
Gold Digger | Part III
Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.
Warnings: cursing.
A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.
Part one | Part two
London - Seventeen months later
"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"
"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."
"And what's stopping you?"
"What if we don't work out?"
"Time is unpredictable."
"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"
"You know that is not the case. You told me that."
"I'm scared."
"It's okay, it's going to be fine."
Paris - Eighteen months later
14:35 p.m.
"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."
"Yes, I found the one."
He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.
You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.
"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."
"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.
After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.
They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.
"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.
Paris - Kylian therapist office
"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"
"Oui, I wrote my heart out."
"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."
"Don't you want to read it?"
"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."
"It happened." He nods.
Parc des princes
- 5:30 p.m. -
"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."
"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."
"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.
"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.
The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.
"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.
"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.
"That's it, Junior."
Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.
Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.
His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.
But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.
"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."
"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"
"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"
"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."
"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.
- On the other side of France -
"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."
"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.
"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."
Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."
"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."
"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."
"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."
"Okay, no biggie."
You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.
When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.
"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."
You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.
Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.
You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.
An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.
"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."
"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"
While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.
You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.
"I think I want the other one more."
"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."
"Oui." You nod smiling.
While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.
"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."
"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."
Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."
"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.
They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.
While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.
"Okay, this one would be."
"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."
You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.
You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.
- Kylian's House -
The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.
But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.
He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.
Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?
After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.
But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.
All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.
But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.
- Neymar's house -
"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"
"I bring her something."
"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."
The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.
He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.
"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."
"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."
They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.
The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.
"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.
"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."
"In Spain?"
"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."
He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.
"Dude, I really miss Verrati."
"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."
"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."
Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?
He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."
"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.
"I do, and I'm thankful for that."
- The furniture store - Hours prior
"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."
"Hello, roots."
"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.
Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.
"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.
"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."
"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.
"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."
"So you're back for good?"
"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."
"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."
Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.
"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."
"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."
You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.
"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."
"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.
Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."
"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."
Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.
"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"
They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.
It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.
The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.
Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.
The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.
Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.
But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.
You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.
Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.
You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.
So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.
The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.
You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.
His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.
You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.
"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."
"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.
"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."
"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."
You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?
"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"
- Dressing room - Parc des princes -
"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.
The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.
And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.
His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.
Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.
"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"
Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.
"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."
"I'm good, I promise sir."
"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."
"I promise."
After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.
The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.
He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.
The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.
He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.
Even when you're not there, he still did it.
While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.
His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.
That same ring he bought two days before that night.
The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.
Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.
Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.
Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.
Sure, there won't be anybody after you.
Unsure about you being his future.
"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."
You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.
The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.
You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.
Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.
Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.
She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.
And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.
You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.
You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.
"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."
You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.
So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.
You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.
The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.
You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.
The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"
"Hello"
"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"
You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"
"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"
"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."
"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"
You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.
"I don't want to be a bother."
"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."
"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"
"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.
You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.
Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.
After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.
You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.
- Bondy - Later that day
Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.
The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.
"Kyky"
Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.
How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.
"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."
"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."
"I just want this bad time to end."
"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."
He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.
"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."
He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."
"Deal."
While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.
"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."
"Sorry, I'm just nervous."
"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."
You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.
"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."
"Get to the point." You laugh.
"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"
You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.
"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."
-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -
"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"
"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."
He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.
"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.
"Yeah?"
"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.
He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.
"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."
Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.
When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.
"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.
The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.
"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."
Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.
"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."
"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."
"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."
"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."
"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."
"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."
"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."
You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.
You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.
"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.
They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.
You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.
His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.
You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.
"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."
"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.
He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.
"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."
He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.
"How?"
"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."
"Why wouldn't I?"
You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."
He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.
Fuck it, he thought.
Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.
The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.
"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."
You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.
"Can you look at me?"
He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.
"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."
"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."
You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.
His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.
When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.
You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."
He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."
You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.
"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."
Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.
The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.
The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.
But oh boy, how wrong they were.
You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.
"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."
You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."
"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."
"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.
Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.
"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.
"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."
The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.
When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.
"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."
"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."
"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.
"Are we alone?"
You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.
He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.
- Five months later -
"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.
He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.
During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.
"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.
"Why would I get free Uber eats?"
"Uber eats Ligue 1"
"Bébé, just no."
You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.
You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.
"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.
"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."
You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.
The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.
"We're okay, thank you."
"He's in the garden. He's reading."
He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.
"Père."
Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.
"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."
"Hi, sir."
"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."
You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.
"Sit, please."
You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."
"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."
Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.
"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."
"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."
"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."
You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.
You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.
You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.
🪷🪷🪷
🏷: @slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko @megannandrewss @unstablefemme @suzysface @nightlockcornucopia @ama1a2 @topguncultleader @lunamelona
#football#football fanfic#football angst#kylian x you#football x you#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe smut#kylian mbappe fic#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian x reader#kylian mbappe oneshot#kylian mbappe#kylian imagines#kylian angst#kylian fanfic#kylian fluff#kylian fic#football drabble#football smut#kylian smut#football fluff#football fans go wild as ea sports fc 24 best premier league players are revealed#Finally dropping the last part
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Where The Furniture Used to Be (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)
Hello! Welcome back! So this was a request from a lovely anon! (I hope you see this and you like it!) This is my very first attempt at angst so please be nice!
Pairing: (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)
Warnings: again like one swear word. Feels? (look i tried lmao)
Word Count: 2557
Note: To the other anon that sent me a request, I have seen it! It's been added to my list <3
Masterlist
--------------------------------------------------------------------
“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, “Why can’t I go outside?” the wind picked up outside the bookshop window.
Aziraphale sighed. They, Crowley and Aziraphale, had adopted you when they you were a teenager after noting some strange weather patterns that seemed otherworldly and out of place in London. They had followed the trails and it led them to you, a then-teenager who had trouble controlling their emotions. You were a witch, a bloody powerful one at that, who could control and manipulate the elements no spell or potion needed. It had taken time, but Crowley had connected that the change in weather had come directly from your emotions whether they meant it or not. Aziraphale and Crowley had worked hard to conceal them from their respective ex-head offices, and it had been working. Until now. You see, Heaven and Hell had taken notice of the young witch and had been watching closely for quite some time. The power they had worried them immensely, they felt threatened by it. With the planning of The Second Coming, they didn’t have the time nor patience to put up with someone who could quickly stop it.
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you, my dear, at least let us accompany you,” Aziraphale said calmly.
“To me or to other people?” you snapped, “I am old enough to go and get a coffee myself Az. You don’t need to treat me like such a baby anymore. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I can control myself now. What could possibly happen to me huh? Nothing has ever happened to me, and nothing will. I can’t stay cooped up in here forever.” The wind continued to pick up outside.
“Oi!” Crowley said from his position on the sofa, “there’s no need to speak to Aziraphale like that. We’re just looking out for you that’s all.”
You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your temples; the wind slowly calming. You loved Aziraphale and Crowley so much and were very grateful to them for everything they had done. But this was too much. You could protect yourself, should anything ever happen to you. You were a grown adult, not the once out-of-control teenager you used to be.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I just think it’s a bit silly that I can’t go 10 minutes down the road to grab a coffee, on my own.”
Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, they just didn’t want any harm to come to you. You just looked at them, as they had a silent conversation debating on how they should handle the situation. Aziraphale sighed again and took your hands in his own.
“Okay, fine. You can go but come straight back.” Aziraphale said, softly but his tone suggested that there was no room for argument. A smile appeared on your face as you launched yourself into Aziraphale’s arms.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed, “I promise I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you back something too.”
Aziraphale chuckles as he returns the hug rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Just come straight back.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and quickly made your way to Crowley.
“Thank you!” you said as you gave Crowley a kiss on the cheek. Crowley just winks at you.
“I take my thanks in the form of a …”
“A big cup with 6 shots of espresso, yes I know,” you laughed interrupting him.
“That’s my little angel,” he said quietly and pressed a kiss to your hand.
You smiled as you made your way out of the bookshop. “Bye! Love you!” you said closing the door behind you.
“I do hope we made the right decision,” Aziraphale said sitting down next to Crowley, taking his hand in his.
“They’ll be fine Angel,” Crowley said, “Just have a little bit of faith,” he said kissing the angel's cheek before standing up and sauntering off into the kitchen to make Aziraphale a cup of tea.
You walked down the street towards the coffee shop with a smile on your face as you took in the scenes around you. There were cars driving up and down the street, the sun was shining, and a cool autumn breeze swirled around you. It truly seemed to be the perfect afternoon. As you walked with almost a skip in your step, you bumped into someone.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you said to the stranger. The stranger was a woman dressed in white with neat dark hair.
“Watch where you’re walking,” said the stranger.
“Sorry!” you said and continued on your way.
You reached the coffee shop just moments later, and praise be, there was no queue. The shop was particularly empty except for a woman who was sat at a table dressed in white but with beautiful dark skin. Strange you thought, that’s two women in white suits in the last few minutes. Maybe they’re getting married. You shrugged the thought off as you ordered an iced latte for yourself, a large cup with six shots of espresso for Crowley and a vanilla slice for Aziraphale. You paid and thanked the barista and waited for your order. You turned around and saw the woman at the table staring at you. You offered a friendly smile, but the woman just kept on staring at them. “Okay then,” you said under your breath.
You thank the barista when they hand you your order and make your way back to the bookshop. You take a sip of the iced latte and make a face. You didn’t order any syrup in your latte, but it tasted awfully like almonds, and that’s the last thing you remember before everything went black.
Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale was pacing. “They should be back by now,” he stressed as he walked.
“I’m sure they just bumped into a friend or something Angel,” Crowley responded trying to calm Aziraphale, but deep down he knew that something wasn’t right.
“It's been over an hour Crowley,” Aziraphale said glancing out the window to see if he could spot you.
“I know Angel, they’ll be fine,” Crowley said standing up and walking over to Aziraphale placing a hand on his shoulder.
Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and buried his head in his shoulder. Crowley wraps his arms around the angel, soothing him by running a hand up and down his back. Much like how Aziraphale had done to Y/N not too long ago. “Can we go look for them?” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shoulder.
“Would it make you feel better?” Crowley asked pulling away so he could look him in the eyes. Aziraphale just nodded and Crowley sighed. “C’mon then Angel.”
Aziraphale and Crowley walked down the same streets that Y/N had. The sun was still bright in the sky, the cool breeze whipping around them, but something wasn’t right. They could feel it. They turned the corner and stopped. On the middle of the pavement, there were two dropped coffees and a dropped paper bag which seemed to contain a vanilla slice. The angel and demon turned to each other as their hearts dropped to their stomachs.
You awoke to a bright light and a pounding headache. Your hands bound to a chair and a white rag in your mouth. You wince as you opened your eyes to see the two women from earlier standing before you hold a book.
“What is going on?” you tried to speak, but the rag prevented the words from coming out.
The woman with the neat dark hair snapped her fingers and the rag disappeared.
“You! You’re the women from earlier!” you thrash, trying to break free of the material that held you to the chair.
“Women?” the woman said, “We are the Archangels Michael,” they pointed and themselves “and Uriel,” they continued pointing to the other woma- angel, “and you must be Y/N,” they said a hint of disgust in their voice.
“What’s it to you?” you snap trying to burn your way through the material bounding you to the chair.
“Oh, that won’t work here, Y/N,” said Archangel Uriel, “your gifts are of no use to you in heaven.”
You froze. Heaven? Panic coursed through your veins like ice. “No, no, no, no.” you panicked.
“Oh yes, Y/N,” the Archangel Michael smiled. “You get quite the view from up here.”
“How do you even know who I am anyway?” You said.
“We’ve been watching you for quite some time now. Quite the stir you’ve made upstairs and downstairs. You’ve had us all quite worried,” spoke Uriel.
Your head was spinning. You knew about Heaven and Hell. You always have for as long as you’ve had your powers, that wasn’t the surprise. You knew Aziraphale was an angel and Crowley a demon, so coming face to face with two Archangels wasn’t a huge shock to the system. No, what panicked you the most was that you were up here and Aziraphale and Crowley were nowhere to be seen.
“W-What have you done to them?” you shouted.
“To who?” Uriel cocks their head.
“Aziraphale and Crowley!” you cried. “Where are they?”
“You mean The Traitor and the Demon?” Michael starts, “Oh nothing, it’s not as if they’ll even know who you are in a minute anyway,” they gestured to the book that Uriel held. You’d know that book anywhere.
“Is that?” you say suddenly getting quiet.
“You’re a clever witch, aren’t you?” Uriel said condescendingly.
“But I haven’t done anything!” you shout.
“Ah, not yet you haven’t,” Uriel starts “but we can’t have you interfering with The Second Coming now, can we?”
The Second what now? Fear and dread slowly started to fill your body from your head to your toes. They were going to erase you from The Book of Life. Tears filled your eyes as the reality of your situation dawned on you. You were at a loss for words as Uriel opened the book and handed it to Michael. Your thoughts ran wild as they smiled at you. You felt as if you were about to throw up.
Suddenly, doors opened to your left and voices shouted.
“Let them go!”
“What do you think you are doing!”
It was Aziraphale and Crowley running towards you. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and you were freed from your restraints. You threw yourself into Crowley's arms and sobbed as Crowley caught you and stroked your hair. “You’re okay my little angel,” he whispered in your ear. Aziraphale stood in front of you both.
“What is the meaning of all this?” Aziraphale demanded.
“Ah, so glad you could join us,” Michael smiled, “We were just about to get started.”
Aziraphale froze when he saw what was in Michael's hands. He turned to Crowley, a wild expression on his face. Crowley tilted his head, confused until he too saw what Michael was holding. His hand froze on your hair.
“That’s not?” Crowley started, suddenly moving you behind him. Aziraphale nodded weakly, not knowing what to say or do. He turned to face Uriel and Michael.
“You can’t do that,” he stepped forward, but Uriel snapped their fingers, and he couldn’t move any further. He was stuck, and panic took over his body. “You wouldn’t, they haven’t done anything!” he shouted. His worst nightmare had suddenly become a reality. He was going to lose you and he couldn’t do anything about it.
Crowley tried to make a dash for The Book of Life, but it was no use, he wasn’t fast enough and soon he was also stuck in place, right next to Aziraphale. “You can’t do this!” he roared, fear washing over him. Michael and Uriel ignored them as they found your name in the book. You rushed in front of Aziraphale and Crowley, you turned and faced the two Archangels.
“Please, don’t do this,” you beg tears rolling down your face, “you can’t do this!” Uriel hands Michael a feather. “I promise I won’t cause any bother. I won’t!” you tried to bargain but it was no use.
“That’s not a risk we are willing to take,” said Michael and with one swift stroke, crossed your name out of The Book of Life, and disappeared.
You turned to face Aziraphale and Crowley and stumbled forward feeling slightly tingly. You felt arms around you as Aziraphale and Crowley were released from their holds as now, there was nothing they could do.
“No, no, no, no!” Crowley shouted as he grasped onto you. You could see tears fall from Aziraphale's eyes as he stroked your hair.
“It’s okay,” you said to them bringing a hand to each of their faces, tears still rolling down your face. “It’s going to be okay,” you whisper quietly.
“How can you say that Y/N?” Aziraphale whispers.
“Because in a few seconds, you won't even remember who I was. You won’t feel any pain.” You whisper to them, noticing that your hands were fading. This was it. A sob wracked through Crowley, his emotions getting the best of him. You feel his lips touch your forehead.
“You’ll always be my little angel Y/N,” he whispers into your hair, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“I love you both so much.” You said, feeling yourself fade away.
“We love you too, so much,” Aziraphale whispers into your hair, kissing your head softly, and with that, you faded away in their arms.
A few days later, Aziraphale and Crowley were in the bookshop. Aziraphale had decided to close the shop today, not feeling like opening up. He sat at his desk a strange feeling in his stomach like something was missing but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He sighed and stood up from his desk and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He found Crowley standing there staring at a cup of coffee.
“Everything alright my dear?” he asked.
“Hmm?” Crowley responded looking at him.
“I asked if everything is alright?”
“Oh, yeah m’fine.” He said with a sigh, “Do you ever feel like something isn’t quite right?” he asked Aziraphale after a moment.
“You know I was just thinking about that myself,” he said leaning next to him on the kitchen counter. “I’ve just felt rather, unfulfilled recently and I can’t seem to place why.” He frowned.
“Me too,” Crowley said reverting his attention back to his coffee. “It’s very strange, it feels like looking into a house you used to own and trying to place where the furniture used to be but you just can't.”
“That’s an oddly specific way of putting it.”
“But I’m not wrong.”
“No,” Aziraphale sighed, “you are not.”
They stood in silence for a minute before Aziraphale spoke up again. “I’m sure it will pass; all things pass in the end.”
Crowley looked at the angel with a bemused look on his face, “Did you just quote George Harrison?”
Aziraphale blushed “Maybe,”
“You surprise me every day Angel.” Crowley said with a chuckle, “C’mon make your tea and I’ll get you in the main room.” He said sauntering off.
So, life went on as it always had for Aziraphale and Crowley, though they could never shift that feeling that something, or rather someone, was missing.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#david tennant#aziraphale#michael sheen#aziraphale x reader#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#good omens x reader#ineffable husbands x reader#crowley x reader#david tennant x reader#michael sheen x reader
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Think I Forgot How To Be Happy, Something I’m Not (But Something I Can Be) | Felicitas Rauch
warnings: reader’s prior messy break up
word count: 3642
summary: you leave north london broken but maybe in germany, you’ll meet someone who helps you to heal, part two can be found here
a/n: requested, some fluff for my fellow germany fans. also my brain kinda went off on it’s own tangent here so this is what it is 🥺😂
Germany is not somewhere you thought you would ever live in. Yet here you are, in your new and empty apartment, having signed for Wolfsburg.
Arsenal had been your home for as long as you could remember and you had never planned on leaving your childhood club.
You were happy there. Until you made the stupid decision to date a teammate.
That’s where it had all gone wrong for you.
The way your relationship had ended, you wouldn’t wish that on anyone. The initial dismissal and pulling away by your ex had left you with trust issues.
The inevitable break up led to you falling out of love with North London. All the little corners and places in the city that you had once loved so much and therefore shared with your ex were now tainted with painful, sour memories.
So encouraged by your Arsenal teammates who have had a front row seat to the way your relationship had fallen apart, you had left the only home you had ever known for Wolfsburg.
******
You arrive in Wolfsburg to Jill’s open arms, the former Arsenal player having been instructed to look out for you.
She picks you up at the airport and brings you to the apartment where you would be staying.
The Dutch woman offers to stay and help you unpack but you give her a small smile and tell her you would be fine on your own.
You don’t want to say it but you need a moment alone, to process this enormous decision that you had made.
Jill understands and leaves but promises to be back so that you can carpool with her to your first training session with the German club.
Alone in your apartment, surrounded by cardboard boxes, you sigh and sit down to think.
******
Jill introduces you to your new teammates. They’re all welcoming, friendly and nice, excited to meet their new English teammate.
You’d remember a few of them, from international friendlies.
Lena Oberdorf especially because she had almost taken your ankle out with a solid tackle.
She rushes to greet you first, saying she is so glad to meet you and worrying if you hold any hard feelings towards her.
You didn’t and you tell her as much, giving her a warm smile.
Svenja Huth is next, taking her duties as captain very seriously and wanting to make sure you are fitting in okay.
The following faces you meet kind of blur together, unfamiliar German accents being the only thing you catch.
Until a brunette steps forward, meaning to introduce herself only for a blonde to interrupt her loudly, ‘I’m Jule and this is Felicitas.’
‘Don’t call me that.’ She mumbles, making Jule giggle.
‘Ignore her please. I’m Feli and it’s really nice to meet you.’
You laugh and shake her hand.
Feli smiles and you give her one in return.
******
As lovely as your new teammates are, you’re still not letting them in and keeping your guard up.
It bothers them, when you make excuses to miss team meals and leave team bondings early.
You play well with them on the field, connecting easily and creating goal scoring opportunities. Your talent is not something that was ever in doubt but now it shines through. The German style of play suits you.
But your distance concerns them enough that they ask Jill, the only one who you seem willing to open up to about why you seem so closed off and sad.
Jill tells them about your messy break up and how much it had hurt you.
She doesn’t share enough to violate your privacy but what she said had been enough.
Your Wolfsburg teammates are kinder to you after that, patiently waiting for you to let them in.
Especially Feli who is particularly enamored with you. With your English accent and smile.
The German has been trying to keep her growing feelings for you under wraps but it’s been getting harder for her to do so.
She loves spending time with you, adores the way your eyes light up when you find something funny.
When she finds out you’re a dog person, she brings her dog to training.
Feli watches as you laugh, letting her poodle lick your hand. Her heart skips a beat when you look up at her, a big grin on your face.
The sound of your laughter gives her a warm feeling inside, so much so that she’s smiling like a fool.
Jill leans against the wall with her and quietly says, ‘Well done. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her since she got here.’
‘I just want her to be happy.’ Feli murmurs, shrugging lightly.
In that moment, Jill realises exactly how smitten her teammate is.
******
You weren’t blind. You know that your teammates know what is up with you.
But slowly and surely, their patience and kindness begins to pay off.
Feli is a big part of that.
The German player had caught onto how much you love her dog and had repeatedly invited you to a park not far from the training grounds.
At first you had made your usual excuses but Felicitas had been gentle but persistent in her asking, so much so that you had acquiescenced.
In the time you spend with Feli and Cinnamon, you get to know them both.
Cinnamon loves getting the spot behind her ears scratched and Feli loves her coffee.
As you grow more and more familiar with a certain German, you find yourself developing feelings for her.
Eventually it gets to the point where you wake up one morning, on an off day and catch yourself excitedly getting ready to see her at the park.
You don’t go that day.
You ignore all her subsequent texts and calls.
They are anxious and worried at first but soon get even more frantic.
You hide under your blankets and keep your phone far away from you.
So great is the pain in your heart and so heavy are the thoughts in your head that you forget that you gave Jill a spare key when you moved in.
The depth of Feli’s feelings for you are not to be underestimated because soon enough, she’s there with Jill.
Jill who takes one look at you in your room and quietly sits down beside you on the bed, where you’re curled up.
‘Schat, I know that you’re scared of what you might feel for Feli but for what it’s worth, I believe that she couldn’t be more different than your ex.’
The Dutch woman waits a moment and upon not getting any response, sighs.
‘She was so worried you know. Feli practically begged me to come here and check on you.’
‘Was she?’ You softly ask, tearing up slightly as Jill talks about the German woman who has found her way in your heart despite your best efforts to keep her out.
‘She still is. I couldn’t convince her to go back to her apartment so she’s here. I managed to get her to wait in your living room till I spoke with you.’
‘She’s here?’
You panic and stand up, rushing to pull your bedroom door open.
Felicitas freezes, she’d been pacing you think.
Cinnamon barks happily and runs up to you. The brown poodle gets an absentminded pet from you before you straighten back up.
You keep staring at Feli and barely notice Jill leaving the apartment after saying that she’d give the two of you a moment.
‘Hi.’ Feli softly says.
‘Felicitas.’
‘You’re the only one who I don’t mind calling me that you know? Well, other than my parents.’ The brunette gives a tiny laugh before she takes a step towards you.
‘You mean a lot to me. The way I feel about you isn’t a secret.’
The sharp inhale that escapes you is loud. You didn’t know that your feelings were returned and the anxiety her confession causes must be clear on your face.
Feli’s eyes widen and she quickly says, ‘I know someone hurt you badly and I want you to know that I would never do that. I really care for you and I'd just like you to know that if you ever want to let me in, I'll be here. You don’t have to feel the way I feel but I'm here. I'm always going to be here for you. I'm not going anywhere, I promise.’
‘You promise?’
The way your voice wavers makes your unsurety apparent.
It’s why Feli doesn’t hesitate to answer with certainty, ‘I promise.’
You stay silent, trying to see if she really means it.
After a moment, you decide she does. You trust that she does.
‘Okay. D-Do you still want to go to our park now?’
It’s a tiny nervous step from you but a step nonetheless.
‘Of course.’ Feli is quick to agree, a wide smile on her face.
The fact that you had referred to the park as yours and hers, gives her butterflies in her stomach.
******
You join your teammates for lunch.
If Feli had to bring Cinnamon and sit beside you for the whole meal, she didn’t care.
Neither did your teammates who are over the moon that you are finally comfortable enough to start letting them in.
They don’t explicitly say anything to you but the way they grin and hug you, shows you that they care.
The meal is lighthearted and fun, situated at a pet friendly restaurant, to accomodate Cinnamon.
By the end of it, you have decided that getting to know your teammates outside of training wouldn’t be so bad.
Especially if Feli was going to hold your hand every time she thought you were anxious.
******
You begin going over to Feli’s apartment.
She convinced you to come over one day, after playing fetch with Cinnamon, saying that she’d like to introduce you to proper homemade German food.
You’d hesitated but she had looked at you so pleadingly you could not say no.
So you said yes.
And that is how the twice a week dinners started because the food that Felicitas makes is just so good.
You might even say that it makes you fall a little harder for her.
Feli tries to teach you how to cook but it doesn’t really work out. It’s almost laughable really, how hard the both of you try, you to cook and her to teach you.
Eventually the two of you just resign yourselves to the fact that it wouldn’t work and settle into a new routine.
One where you go shopping for groceries together and cook together in Feli’s apartment.
A routine where you insist on paying for the groceries since she cooks and where you sit on the counter, sneaking pieces of food to Cinny as you watch her cook.
******
As the months pass by in Germany, you make sure to keep in contact with your old Arsenal teammates.
Your English teammates you still see at camp but you miss your other teammates.
Especially Lia who you have always been particularly close to.
Lia who you call one night, to have her answer your video call with a knowing smile.
‘Lia?’ You nervously question.
‘You’re falling in love.’
‘What? Lia no.’
‘I was watching the game today. I saw you run to a certain Felicitas Rauch as soon as she went down. You were the first one by her side.’
‘I care a lot about all my teammates. I’d do the same for you.’
Lia doesn’t just laugh, she giggles.
‘Yes but you wouldn’t be smoothing sweaty hair off my face or helping me sit up. Or holding my hand as you walk me back to my position.’
You frown, remembering the moment from earlier.
Feli had been tackled and had gone down holding her ankle. She had not got back up, so you had sprinted right over.
Upon hearing her pained gasps, you had immediately tried to soothe her pain as best as you could.
It hadn’t occurred to you that it would be broadcasted on live television.
You had just been so focused on Feli and the fact that she had been hurting. Everything else was unimportant then.
The way Felicitas had gratefully held your hand as the medics checked out her ankle, it assured you that you had made the right decision.
Lia’s new fit of giggles brings you out of your thoughts.
‘I’d hold your hand and walk you back to your position if you wanted.’ You grumble.
The Swiss woman laughs once more before looking at you seriously.
‘I’m so glad you’re healing. It wasn’t easy to see how broken you were before.’
‘Feli’s been…’
You trail off, not knowing how to explain exactly how kind, patient and warm the defender has been to you.
Lia nods, ‘I know Feli and I know you. I also know that you’ll be good for each other.’
‘I don’t know Lia. I’m just so scared. Feli means so much to me and she’s been incredibly sweet but there’s always the chance that this all goes wrong. I love Germany and I feel at home here now. I don’t want to lose that again.’
Your former teammate nods once more, understanding your fears.
But then she asks something you should have asked yourself a long time ago.
‘Why does Germany feel like home?’
The answer is one you know deep down. Germany only feels like home because of Felicitas.
******
You curl into Feli’s body, your palm resting on her stomach.
She shifts, allowing you to get more comfortable.
‘Thanks.’ You whisper, so as to not disturb the rest of your teammates during the movie screening and she presses a kiss onto your hair in response.
You don’t stop her when she presses a second and then a third affectionately.
If anything, you relax even further into her.
With her so close, you can hear and feel the way her breath stutters every time the movie picks up.
It seems that Feli scares easily and you find that adorable.
******
Twice a week dinners at Feli’s apartment become a nightly occurrence.
One evening when it’s her turn to host team bonding, you answer the door.
Jill smirks.
You roll your eyes.
She catches you alone, in Feli’s kitchen later on.
‘Whatever you two are, it’s not just friends.’
‘I know.’ You say softly and despite Jill’s excited follow up and slightly invasive questions, you don’t say anything else.
******
Despite how close you and Feli are, she’s not your bus buddy.
Your bus buddy is Jill and hers is Kathy.
Today though, Felicitas is having a hard time.
It didn’t matter that Wolfsburg had won the game. By her high standards, she had played an awful game and she’s just so tired. She is exhausted and furious at herself.
All she wants is to go back to her apartment and sleep. And maybe cuddle with Cinnamon a bit.
Feli is so out of it that she doesn’t notice Jill nudging you and not too quietly murmuring, ‘Go to her.’
Kathy switches with you easily once she sees you coming towards her.
It doesn’t occur to Feli that you have noticed her change in behaviour and would want to check in on her.
So when you slide into the seat beside her and reach out to hold her hand, she jumps with surprise.
‘I got you.’ You promise and guide her to lean against your shoulder.
Felicitas does so with a breath of relief.
When you carefully kiss her cheek and pull her even closer, Feli thinks that everything is going to be okay.
******
You’re more affectionate with her than ever and Feli loves it.
She loves how comfortable you are around her now, from holding her hand on team walks to cuddling with her on her couch.
Now, having traveled back to North London, for the Champions League, Feli is especially glad you’re letting your walls down.
She knows it would be hard for you to be back in your old home so she wants to be there for you, as best as she can.
Svenja had given out the room assignments and you had eagerly pressed a kiss onto Feli’s cheek when you found out she would be with you.
‘Hi roomie.’ You’d teased and she had held out her hand to you.
‘Hello.’ Feli murmurs, smiling when you take her hand.
As she follows you into the elevator, she makes a mental note to thank her captain.
******
You’re so excited to be back in North London. You’ve missed the city and your friends.
You’re even more excited to take Felicitas to your favourite cafe.
She loves coffee more than anyone you have ever known and you hope that she likes the coffee there.
Unfortunately that has to wait till after the game. You will have a chance to do that tomorrow, before you fly back to Germany.
First you have to play and hopefully win against your former team.
But for now, you’re content to watch Feli get ready for bed.
Felicitas who looks so cute with her glasses on.
So you tell her that and she blushes, making you laugh.
******
Feli squeezes your hand in hers as you line up in the tunnel. The Arsenal players aren’t here yet so the defender takes a moment to check on you.
‘You okay?’ She asks and you nod, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face into her neck.
You take a deep breath in and Felicitas rubs your back soothingly.
She smells nice and you allow her to calm you down.
Feli places a brief kiss onto your forehead and then steps back as the Arsenal players join your team in the tunnel.
‘Lia!’
The Swiss player hugs you immediately. Lia’s eyes meet Feli’s and she mouths, ‘Thank you.’
******
Your game ends as a draw.
As you go around shaking hands and sharing hugs with your former teammates, there’s a lot of laughter.
But when you’ve made your rounds, you’re back at Feli’s side, slipping your hand into hers as she walks back towards the tunnel.
Feli looks at you in surprise.
‘Don’t you want to spend time with your old teammates?’
‘I have.’ You answer but Felicitas squeezes your hand.
‘Don’t you want to spend more time with them?’
‘Nope. I want to spend time with you now.’
‘Oh.’ Felicitas’ cheeks turn a bright pink and she brings your joined hands up to her lips so that she can kiss the back of your palm.
If Lia or your ex sees the short moment, they don’t say anything.
If your ex-girlfriend glances at Lia, the Swiss woman’s only response is to shrug as if to say, ‘You’ve lost her.’
******
‘To go or having here?’ The barista asks.
Feli eyes you in question and you say, ‘To go please.’
As you wait for your coffees to be ready, you explain, ‘There’s somewhere I want you to see. It meant a lot to me when I was growing up here.’
Felicitas simply holds your hand and smiles at you reassuringly in answer.
When you leave the cafe, she deposits your joined hands in her jacket pocket for warmth. In doing so, she catches the expression of complete adoration on your face and feels the familiar butterflies in her stomach flutter around.
‘How’s your coffee?’ You ask, as you lead her down the street.
Feli grins, ‘It’s good. I understand why this is your favourite coffee.’
‘It isn’t anymore.’ You whisper.
‘It isn’t?’
‘Yours is.’
Felicitas visibly tries and fails to fight back her smile.
‘It’s the cinnamon I put inside isn’t it? I told you it would grow on you.’
‘You were right.’ You admit and Feli laughs. Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand and you duck your head to hide the way your cheeks burn.
‘Come on. We’re almost there.’
‘Okay.’ Feli murmurs.
******
It’s only a short walk from there and it’s spent in comfortable silence.
When you reach a small side street, you gently tug Felicitas with you, into a park just beside it.
‘It’s beautiful here.’ Feli quietly says.
‘It is. But you should see it in the summer. There’s so many flowers then.’
You and Feli sit down beside each other on the bench. You rest your head on her shoulder and Felicitas exhales.
She finishes her cup of coffee and then sets it aside.
‘Why’d you bring me here? Not that I don’t want to spend time with you but why?’
Sitting up properly, you look at Feli for a long moment.
Her eyes are so pretty you think.
Gingerly, you reach out to trace the contours of her jaw. Felicitas melts, leaning into your touch.
Very very slowly, you begin to close the gap.
Feli catches on immediately and she gently stops you.
Your eyes widen with hurt and you pull away, making the German player rush to stop you.
‘Liebling I want this. I really really do. I just need to make sure that it’s what you want too.’ She softly says.
‘Felicitas…’
Feli tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It’s an infinitely sweet gesture that has your breath catching.
‘You met your ex-girlfriend last night and I know you’re saying you’re okay but that couldn’t possibly have been easy for you.’
‘It wasn’t. But I am okay Felicitas.’
‘But you-’
‘Feli I don’t care about her. I care about you!’
Felicitas stares at you wordlessly.
‘I never brought her here, I’ve never brought anyone here except for you. This is the park where I first learnt to play football.
Your voice is barely audible when you say, ‘It means the world to me and so do you Felicitas.’
This time, when you try to kiss her, Feli doesn’t stop you. She meets you halfway instead.
Dutch Translation:
schat - darling
German Translation:
liebling - love
#google helped me with the translations 😅#i might do a part 2 to this?#update: i did write a part 2#feli rauch x reader#felicitas rauch x reader#feli rauch imagine#felicitas rauch imagine#vfl wolfsburg frauen x reader#vfl wolfsburg frauen imagine#gerwnt x reader#dfb frauen x reader#gerwnt imagine#dfb frauen imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#feli rauch#felicitas rauch#katelynnwrites#uswnt imagine#uswnt x reader#woso#woso imagines
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hi! your angst is so so good! could you please write something angsty around the Selena Gomez song “Lose You to Love Me” kind of about a girl learning to love herself after a toxic love with Harry and then them reuniting after growing up years later, please?
Lose You to Love Me
read my other work here
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
word count: 4.2k
summary: a run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings.
a/n: my friend, you have no idea what you've done sending this ask in. technically you do, because I posted about it after i received it. but this song popped into my head a little over a week ago, and has been running up there on repeat. it's been making me think about my life and relationships, and being all reflective or whatever. i hate it. 😂
I have been thinking about this story pretty much non-stop since you sent the ask, and was so exited to finally get it written. i hope it's what you were looking for, and that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.
also, a note about the story, the italicized parts are flashbacks.
i know we’re on all on edge after last night, so why not throw some angst in there to make it worse!
tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
As you moved through the streets of London, you were so focused on making it to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to the faces passing you by.
But he was, and he recognized yours immediately.
“Y/N?”
You froze in place, causing the person walking behind you to crash into you. You apologized and stepped off to the side, looking in the direction of the voice. “Harry,” you breathed out.
Before you could fully process what was happening, Harry had rushed up to you, pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes, even after all this time he still gave the best hugs. Your mind flashed with memories of all the times you found yourself in his arms. Good and bad.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” He spoke against your neck before pulling back, taking your hands in his as he looked you up and down. “You look amazing. All grown up.”
“Yeah, you too.” You took him in, he had definitely filled out since the last time you saw him. Of course you knew that, no matter how hard you tried to get away from him, you never could get that clean break you so desired. That’s what happens when your ex is one of the biggest stars in the world.
“Gosh, it’s been ages.” He muses.
You purse your lips and nod. “Eleven years.” You feel a knot in your stomach, thinking back to the last time you two spoke.
“Harry, it’s just not fair to me.” You move the speaker away from your mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear your breath hitch.
“And you think you’re being fair to me? This is my dream, Y/N, and I can’t even enjoy it because I’ve got you making me feel bad, or like I’m doing something wrong every time I talk to you!”
“Yeah, well you were my dream.” Your voice is quiet, defeated. “But I guess it’s time for me to wake up.”
Harry is silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. “What,” he lets out a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You wipe your eyes, sniffling softly. “It means I can’t do this anymore. You’re living your life, you’re finding your way in the world. I need to go off and do the same. Alone.”
Harry gives you a sad smile. “I tried to reach out a few times, I didn’t like how we left things.”
“I know, me either.” You agreed. “But I needed to just sever the tie. It would have been too hard otherwise.”
“I’m sorry,” you look at him curiously. “For how I handled things, for how it ended…”
You held your hand up to stop him. “We were just kids, you were eighteen and an international pop star, you handled things as best you could.”
He smiled gratefully at you. “Do you, uh… do you have some time? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”
Your mind is begging you to say no, but your mouth doesn’t listen, agreeing immediately. “But I’ll pass on the coffee.’
“Still?” He smirks, remembering how much you hated coffee. “Some things never change.”
****
The two of you order drinks, and get settled at a quiet corner table in a small coffee shop, the conversation starts off simple enough, you catch each other up on your families, you tell him about your career, and how you had relocated to London three years ago for a big promotion. He shares a couple of stories of some of his more memorable moments over the years.
Even after a decade apart, you still managed to fall into conversation with ease. From the moment you had met when you were kids, there was this instant comfort between the two of you. It was no surprise to anyone when you started dating at fifteen. You were inseparable, going everywhere together. You were there at his XFactor audition, you supported him every step of the way. It was when things really started taking off for him that everything changed.
“Hi angel,” Harry’s voice was low and raspy, that’s when you realized you forgot to take the time change into consideration before you called.
“Oh my gosh H, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I–”
You’re cut off by his laughter. “It’s alright, I like when you wake me up. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Mum is taking me dress shopping for formal today, I just wanted to see if you had any ideas what you’d be wearing. We could coordinate!” There was a long silence as you waited for him to respond. “Harry?” You asked. Maybe he had fallen back to sleep.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. “I have some bad news actually.” He sighed before continuing. “They booked us a bunch of shows in the US, I’m not going to be able to come home for the dance.”
“Oh,” you did your best to mask the disappointment. It was just a dance, Harry was doing amazing things, and you needed to be supportive of that.
“Angel, I’m so sorry, I really tried…”
“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.” You assured him while also trying to assure yourself.
You heard a knocking on the other side of the phone, and muffled voices. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go Y/N. I’m so sorry, I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know H. I love you too.”
“Okay, we’ll talk soon. I promise.” The call disconnects before you can respond.
That was the beginning of the end for your young love. You had put on a happy face for everyone, especially Harry, but your family and friends were able to see right through it. He probably would have too had he actually been there.
You ended up going to your formal with your friends, but as they danced and laughed, you sat on the sidelines, staring at your phone waiting for a call or a text from Harry. And that’s what your life became from there on.
When Harry would come home, things would be better, but still not what it was. Because he’d be gone for such long stretches, his time was spread so thin when he was home. He would want to spend time with everyone, which didn’t leave enough time for the two of you. You would tag along as much as you could, but your one on one time was lacking. It got to a point where you couldn’t even go out on dates, constantly being bombarded by people asking for pictures or autographs.
That’s when you decided to spend your time behind closed doors. Harry said it was so he could focus on you, but part of you wondered if it was so that he could keep you secret. You knew that there were girls all over the world that wanted to be with him, his team knew that was part of the marketability of him, of the whole group. The second the two of you stopped hanging out publicly, the insecurities started creeping in. From then on, every time you saw a picture of him with another girl, you wondered who she was, why it was okay for him to be seen with her and not you.
As the two of you continued to talk, you glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit,” you interrupt him. “I’m so sorry Harry, I actually have to go. I have a meeting I need to get to.” You stand from your seat and collect your things. Harry stands with you.
“Yeah, of course.” You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Hey, you should come to the show tonight. If you’re free I mean.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, it’s Wembley. How many times did we talk about this?”
“A lot,” you smile wistfully, remembering those conversations. Whenever he was feeling discouraged about his journey, you would always be right there to pick him up, assuring him it was going to work out. That he’d be onstage at the famed stadium, and you’d be right there cheering him on.
“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Full circle and all that.” He said with a smile. “Besides, the whole family is going to be there. I’m sure mum and Gem would love to see you.”
It would be nice to see his family again. You had been all but officially adopted into the clan, spending holidays, dinners, birthdays with them. You were at Harry’s house just as much as you were at your own, possibly more. Sure, you had mourned the loss of your relationship with Harry, but it also broke you that you lost that second family.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You agree.
“Amazing.” He pulled you in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you tonight. Just check in at the box office when you get there, I’ll take care of everything.”
****
You made it to your meeting on time, but you were anything but present. Your mind kept going back to Harry, how great he looked, how happy he was to see you. And then the memories started flooding back.
“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice and gentle knock on the door call your attention away from your phone.
“Yeah?”
She sticks her head into your room. “We’re leaving in five minutes, are you ready?”
“Ready?” You suddenly remember that your parents were supposed to be taking you and your sister out to dinner. “Oh, I uh… no. I think I’m going to pass if that’s okay?”
“But honey, we’re going to your favorite restaurant.” You could see the concern spread across her face.
“I know, but Harry is supposed to call and check in. We haven’t had a proper phone date in weeks. I want to make sure I don’t miss him.”
“Y/N…” your mother says in a warning tone. After Harry missed out on formal, you had completely changed. You’d go to school, and then immediately come home waiting to hear from him. You would drop everything the second his name popped up on your phone screen.
“Mum, next time. I promise.”
Your mother lets out a sigh and nods, leaving you alone.
About an hour later, your phone pinged with a text from Harry.
Sorry love, can’t call tonight. Talk to you soon, promise. XO
****
After your meeting, you slipped out of the office. You knew you weren’t going to get anything done today. Besides, you needed to find something to wear tonight. You called Heather, your oldest and closest friends, asking her to meet you at one of your favorite shops.
You told her about your run-in with Harry, and his invitation to go to his show.
“You said no, right?”
“Yeah, I said no. That’s why we’re here, you’re helping me pick an outfit for a concert I’m not going to.” you rolled your eyes.
“Y/N, I say this as your friend, this is a terrible idea and you definitely shouldn’t go.” She says completely seriously. “Do you even remember what life was like for you back then?”
“Come on!” Heather grabbed your arm, trying to pull you out of the booth. “Come dance with us!”
You pull out of her grip, checking your phone for a notification. “I can’t H-”
“Harry’s going to call,” she finishes your sentence. “Y/N, you’re both my friends, but you’re my best friend, so I’m going to be real with you. Harry’s a wakner.”
“Hey,” you reply defensively. “He is not, he’s just really busy. He’s kind of a big deal, you know?”
“I do know. And I also know that while you’re sitting here staring at your phone, you’re missing out on life. But he’s out there living it. You deserve better than that.”
“Right, and in a couple of months I’ll be living that life with him.”
Heather’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to university.” You state plainly, her eyes go wide in shock. “Harry is going to get me a job on his team. It won’t be glamorous, and it probably won’t pay much, but we’ll be together and everything will be good again.”
“Have you told your parents about this plan?”
“I have, they aren’t happy about it, but I’m eighteen, so there isn’t really anything they can do about it.”
“And you really think this is the best idea?” She asks you.
“Yes,” you say, a little louder than intended but you needed to get your point across. “Harry and I are supposed to be together, and if this is how it needs to happen, this is how it’s going to happen.” You grab your purse and stand from your seat. “I’m going home, it’s too loud here for me to hear him anyway.”
After that, you stopped going out when your friends invited you. They didn’t understand your relationship, and they were always on your case about it. It was easier to just stay home and wait for Harry. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. You were fine with that. It made it easier for you to focus on Harry, and be there when he had time for you.
As far as the job, that never happened. About a week after you graduated, you received a call from Harry. He told you that he fought for you, all the guys did, but his team said they weren’t able to make a spot for you.
You were devastated, but you did your best to hide it from him. That didn’t last very long, however, as that was the point where the cracks in your facade of ‘supportive girlfriend’ started coming through. You started seeing what everyone had been telling you, that Harry was out there conquering the world while you were putting your life on hold, spending your life by the phone waiting for a quick text or five minute phone call.
****
When you arrived at Wembley, you gave your name at the window and were immediately ushered to a backstage VIP area. You walked in and smiled to yourself at the turnout. You recognized almost everyone in the room. You stayed by the door, not wanting to interrupt when Gemma’s eyes traveled in your direction, She did a double take before smiling wide and running to you.
“Y/N, I can’t believe it!” She pulled you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned. “Harry told us he ran into you, and invited you to the show. But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come!”
You giggled at her excitement. “Of course I’m here, I told him I’d come.”
“I know, but you’re so nice, I figured you’d say that to his face and then just disappear.” You both laughed, before she took you by the hand, leading you into the group. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on!”
You went around the room, greeting those you had known a decade ago, and meeting the new members of Harry’s entourage. Everyone was so happy to see you, you were being pulled in a million different directions trying to catch up with everyone. They had told you that Harry was with them earlier, but had to leave to get ready. You were grateful for that. It would have been too much to be there with him, and his family.
**** When it was time to go out to the front of house, Gemma locked her arm in yours and you walked together. She stayed by your side the whole night. The two of you were always close, she had always treated you like you were sisters. Often joking that someday Harry would make it official. She made you promise not to leave without giving her your number, she said she wasn’t about to let another ten years go by without seeing you again.
The show was incredible. Harry was incredible. As you watched him up there, you felt your chest swell with pride. Despite what had transpired between the two of you, you couldn’t help but get emotional watching him live the dream that the two of you had spent so much time talking about. He had done it, but on a level that neither of you could have even imagined.
As you listened on, your mind wandered, thinking about the girls those songs were about. The girls that had come after you. You felt tears begin to pool in your eyes as you remembered the first one.
“Come on guys, put it away. Y/N is going to be here any minute.” You heard Heather plead. “This is her first time out since the breakup, she doesn’t need to see it.”
After the phone call where you ended your relationship, you were inconsolable. You cried nonstop, mourning your relationship, the future you were supposed to have, and all the time you wasted waiting for him. Your friends would come over often, but they would mostly just hold you and offer words of encouragement to you as you cried. Nobody was able to get through to you, they weren’t even sure how.
About two months after the breakup, you got this surge of determination. Harry had taken away enough of your life, you weren’t going to let him do it anymore. You texted Heather, and she agreed to gather all your friends for dinner.
You walked in and saw her trying to pull the phone out of her boyfriend’s hands. “What don’t I need to see?” You ask, everyone’s attention snapping to you.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Heather assured you.
You nodded, leaning in to hug your friend, quickly diverting and grabbing the phone out of her hand. You looked down at the screen and saw a paparazzi shot of Harry walking hand in hand with Taylor Swift, it was an article about the budding relationship between the two singers.
“Oh,” you said, dropping the phone on the table. “I uh… I just remembered I’ve got to…” your brain was too cloudy to come up with an excuse, not that they would believe it anyway. You turned and rushed out of the restaurant. Heather hot on your heels.
“Y/N, wait!” She followed you as you ducked into a nearby alleyway, getting to you just in time to watch your back slide down the wall.
You wrapped your arms around your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. Heather sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her.
“I… he… I…” You couldn’t form words, too upset to do anything but cry.
“I know babe, I know.” Heather said in a soft tone, rubbing your back comfortably. “I told you he was a wanker.”
You chuckled lightly, your breathing starting to return to normal. You looked up at your friend with tear stained cheeks, your breath hitching as you regained composure. “We just broke up. I’ve been locked in my room crying, and he’s been with her.”
“He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re so much better than all of this.” She held your face in her hands and gave you a determined look. “You’re a fucking catch Y/N, he’s an idiot for not seeing that.” You nod, pretending you agree with her. “Let’s get you home. We’ll get a bunch of junk food and watch sad movies. Get all the tears out.”
“Hey Y/N, you alright?” Gemma pulls you from your thoughts.
You suddenly realize the house lights are up, and people are filing out of the stadium. “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s just crazy to think that he went from the weird boy with the dumb jokes to that,” you gesture toward the stage.
“Oh, he’s still the weird boy, he’s just telling his dumb jokes to a whole lot more people.” She joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go backstage.”
“Oh, no no no, you go. I should…”
“Not a chance,” she interrupted you. “You’ve gotta come back and see him.” You narrow your eyes at her, wondering why it was so important that you see him, but she just smiles innocently and leads you back to the VIP room.
****
You and Gemma get comfortable on a couch in the back corner of the room, so lost in conversation that you don’t even notice when all eyes in the room land on the door, cheering Harry as he enters. He walks through, offering hugs and handshakes, thanking people for coming and graciously receiving compliments on his performance.
Once he’s made his way to the back, he stops, silently observing you and his sister gossiping and giggling just like you always had.
“You’d better not be talking about me, or I’m telling mum.” His voice pulls you from your conversation, and you both turn to look at him.
Gemma grins and jumps from her seat. “You were outstanding.” She pulled him into a hug, saying something to him in a hushed tone.
He smiled gratefully at her as she sat back down, Harry turned to you with a curious expression. “Well? What did you think?”
“H,” his nickname fell so easily from your lips, as if you had never been apart. You stood up, looking at him with so much awe that he was taken aback. “You did it. I’m so,” you sigh with a shrug. “It was incredible.”
He smiled, dimples on full display. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what that means to me.” He steps in front of you, pulling you into a firm embrace. You were so lost in the moment that it didn’t even register that he had called you by his pet name for you.
Gemma stood behind you, making sure to get Harry’s attention, she winked at him with a smirk before matriculating back into the crowd, allowing you two a moment.
When you finally separated, Harry looked down at you, his gaze so intense that you felt your cheeks heating up. “I should probably go,” you finally speak up.
“No, wait.” He says in a panicked tone. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”
You furrow your brow, not expecting that. He’s in a room full of the most important people in his life, and he wants to be alone with you? “Yeah, sure.”
He leads you out of the VIP area and down the hall to his dressing room. He opens the door, signaling for you to enter. He follows behind you, closing the door once you both cross the threshold.
You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before Harry finally breaks the silence. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”
“Me too, thank you for inviting me.” You smile, trying to hide your nerves.
“I, uh…” he takes a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I miss you.”
You look up at him in confusion. “Harry, it’s been eleven years.”
“And I’ve missed you the entire time.” He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “I was so stupid back then, so stupid. I know I wasn’t fair to you.”
“I told you, it’s fine, you were a kid. You did the best you could.” You assured him.
“I think running into you today was fate.” He ignores your words and keeps going. “We’ve both grown up, I’ve grown up. I see what’s important in life now.”
“Harry…”
“There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many things that happened that I wanted to celebrate with you, but I couldn’t. Every sold out show, every award, all of it, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”
You were speechless. You were listening to his words, watching the vulnerability in his face, all of it completely overwhelming you. Out of everything that could have come from your run in with Harry, this was probably the last thing you would have expected.
“I don’t… what?” Was all you managed to choke out.
“Listen, I’m not saying we jump right back in and pick up where we left off,” your eyes went wide at his words. “I broke your trust, that’s something I need to earn back. But I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”
“Try…”
He reached out, taking your hand and sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “I want to show you that I can be what you need, what you deserve.”
“What are you asking?” You ask, searching his face as if it held the answers.
“I just want to be in your life again, be your friend. I want to get to know you now, I want you to get to know me now, and see where things go from there.”
You stood in silence, looking into Harry’s eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he’s looking at you. You nod your head slowly. “Okay,” you respond, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?” He asks hopefully, you nod with a smile and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Thank you thank you thank you. I promise I’m not going to mess this up.” You chuckle against his chest. “What’s so funny?”
“Heather is going to kill me.”
A bark of laughter escapes him. “I’ll protect you,” he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going to lose you again.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles headcanon#harry styles angst#harry's house#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic
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Is It Over Now?
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?
Author's Note: Here's the end! Thank you all for the support in this story. It's honestly one of my favorites. Anyway, see you all soon with Midnight Rain! I will be planning that out first then I'll be back with a new series soon! Enjoy! :)
Wordcount: 2.7K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten
The soft breeze blew through your hair as you watched the city of London slowly come alive in front of you. You pulled your jacket closer to your chest as you watched the sunrise reflected through the windows of the tall buildings in front of you. Cars and buses filling the roads and people walking down the streets to their jobs or whatever their destination was. The sound of Elena whispering to herself as she played with her toys in the living room made you smile as you looked over your shoulder and watched her.
You hoped one day this little girl would grow up and keep the happiness that lit inside her. You hoped that she was able to face whatever fears she had inside of her, and she was able to find love that she deserved. If it was up to you, you would wish she never grows up because this world could be cruel, and it slowly breaks you.
Your eyes then darted towards Abby and Sara, who were cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Watching Abby feeding Sara with a piece of waffle and then kissing each other on the lips like they were just in their own little world, you couldn’t help but smile. You knew that no matter what, Elena had great parents that would be by her side through everything. You couldn’t help but wish that you had the same thing growing up, but you couldn’t dwell too much on the past now. You couldn’t blame your parents anymore. You could change your own perspective and life. You could change it and make it with whatever you wanted it to be.
You didn’t know what time you had sneaked out of your flat earlier this morning, but it definitely was too early. It was still dark outside, and the streets were empty and quiet except for the early morning people who decided to wake up and go for a jog.
You have been walking. You didn’t know how long, but you had been walking and thinking. Thinking about what happened last night. Thinking about Joe and those three little words that he had told you. Thinking about his lips on your skin and how it electrified your veins with every kiss he left on your body. How it made you die and brought you back to life at the same time. You thought about how you wanted him, and you loved him but you were too terrified to admit it yourself.
You just needed some space. You needed some time to think. You weren’t running away this time. You just need to think, so eventually, you found yourself at Sara and Abby’s by the time it was 7am. You didn’t even ride the tube. You walked so much that you had found yourself on the other side of the city, and you didn’t even realize until you were standing on their front steps.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized to them again.
At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Sara and Abby kicked you out of their home for disturbing them so much. They already were too busy with Elena and here you were like a little lost puppy and dumping your problems on them.
“Hey,” Sara smiled. “I was just about to make breakfast before Abby leaves for work. Come in.”
Sara opened the front door wider to let you in. Elena, for some reason, was wide awake early in the morning. Sara mentioned how she had been waking up early because she wanted to say goodbye to Abby every morning before work. You couldn’t help but think how cute it was. They truly were such a cute family.
Now, here you were standing on their balcony, trying to figure out all the emotions that were running inside you. You were trying to scold yourself to stop being so afraid and finally just let all of these fears go.
“Hey, wanna join us for breakfast?” Sara came up behind you with a cup of tea.
“Yeah, thank you.” You smiled as she handed you the cup of tea, and you followed her into the dining room.
“I’m sorry for barging in again. I just… I need to think.”
“There’s nothing to think about, my sweet.” Abby chimed in as she sat on the dining table with you and Sara.
She was in her white shirt, jeans and cardigan. It fit her whole artist vibe, and you couldn’t help but notice how her and Sara were glowing even more lately ever since Elena has entered their life.
“You love him.” Abby said sternly. “Please stop dismissing it. Let yourself be happy.”
You bit your lower lip as you took a sip of your tea. Your eyes shifted at Sara, who was slicing through her waffles with a playful smile on her face.
“What’s so funny?” You asked.
“You reek of sex.” Sara murmured, taking a bite of her waffle.
Your eyes widened the moment you felt the tea burned through your nose as you choked and coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You just wanted the floor to eat you up at this point.
“Babe!” Abby laughed, shaking her head.
“Look at her!” Sara pointed her fork at you as her eyes widened at Abby. “They had sex and now, she is denying the fact that she’s actually in love with Joe. This isn’t just pretending anymore. She has been in love with him for a while now, and she thought hooking up with him would make those feelings go away but no—”
“Okay, I think I get it.” You sighed, slumping back down on your chair.
“Do you?” Sara raised her brow.
You sat quietly in your chair, your head hung low as you thought about Sara’s question. You knew she was right, but it was the acceptance of your feelings that you couldn’t bear to accept in your mind. Your heart was screaming for it. Screaming to love Joe. Screaming to stop being so terrified because you were already here. You already had shown him your feelings last night, so what the fuck was your problem?
“What are you so afraid of? Joe loves you.” Abby added.
“I know.” You sighed. “I do too.”
It was the first time you admitted it out loud. Suddenly, the fear had subsided and all you could think about was Joe. His smile, his chocolate button eyes, his voice, his lips on your skin.
It was everything.
He was everything.
“Then, go get him.” Sara had a wicked smile on her face as you chuckled softly.
“I’m sorry for being such a pain lately and just barging in here.” You sighed. “I know you two got your hands busy with Elena too and—”
“My sweet, there’s no need to apologize.” Abby cut you off. “You’re always welcome here and besides, we know how hard it is for you to sometimes accept your feelings, especially with what you have gone through before. It’s understandable.”
“Exactly.” Sara smiled, reaching for your hand across the table. “You’re our family too, and you’re always welcome here. We just want you to be happy too because you deserve it.”
“And if that’s with Joe then, you shouldn’t stop yourself from being happy and loved by him.” Abby added.
“Thank you.” You both gave them a smile, squeezing Sara’s hand softly. “And you know, I’m always one call away if you both need anything.”
Sara and Abby smiled, nodding their heads.
The thought of seeing Joe as you sat on the tube later that day had let out a jar of butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t exactly know how to start or what to say to him the moment you would enter the flat. You kept telling yourself that you would just wing it. That whatever the situation was, you definitely needed to apologize for running out again. For being so confused and terrified about all of this.
You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair as you stepped out of the tube and made your way back to your flat. You wondered if Joe was home. You wondered what he would say the moment you entered the flat. You wondered if you fucked everything up, and he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.
You couldn’t blame him if that was his decision.
Unlocking the front door with a shaky hand, you immediately heard a quiet clattering coming from the kitchen.
Joe was home.
Kicking your shoes off your feet, you quietly made your way to the kitchen and stood by the doorway. Joe’s back was turned to you as he cooked pasta on the stove. You leaned against the doorway and watched him for a moment, playing with your fingers nervously.
“Came to get the rest of your things?” Joe asked, his voice was cold and his back was still turned to you.
So, he was upset.
You expected that. Who wouldn’t be upset with someone who ran out the next morning after you had told them that you love them?
“N..N…No.” You replied.
Oh, you hated how that came out of your mouth.
You were stuttering, and you could barely find your voice at the moment. You slowly walked around the kitchen island and stood next to Joe. Your hands were literally trembling, and you immediately shoved them in your coat pocket to hide them from him. Joe’s eyes were still laser focused on the pasta sauce that he was cooking on the stove, and you could tell that he didn’t want to look at you at all.
Again, you couldn’t blame him.
It was your fault.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized.
There was silence for a moment between the both of you, your eyes never leaving him as you waited for what he was going to say. Though, when he didn’t say anything, you took a deep breath and took another step forward.
“I’m sorry that I ran out again.” You said. “I’m sorry that I keep lying about my feelings for you.”
Joe sighed, turned off the stove and turned to you. The moment his chocolate button eyes caught yours, you couldn’t help but notice how much it really affected him. It was a different kind of look that you have never seen before. Not even when Ivy broke up with him. It was almost as if he looked like he lost someone so special to him.
“I understand as to why you couldn’t accept your feelings because I know you struggle with that, but I just wished you would talk to me.” Joe shook his head.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was scared, and I needed to think and I didn’t know what to do because I saw Ivy the other night leaving our flat and—”
“Wait,” Joe cut you off. “You saw her?”
“Yeah, I bumped into her in the hall when I was coming home.” You shrugged, your head hung low. “I… I know something happened between us after that, but I can’t help but think about how it makes me feel like you choose me because she doesn’t want you or whatever it’s going on with you guys…”
“Nothing is going on with us.” Joe replied, taking a step closer to you. “Nothing happened that night. She came and begged to take me back, but I told her that it has been over with us for a long time.”
You gazed up and stared at him with your big wet brown eyes. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to doubt Joe either because he told you he loved you and hearing him confirming about him and Ivy, it made your heart swell. In a good way.
Joe exhaled a sharp breath. “I let her stay for the night because she was a mess. I didn’t want her to go home like that, especially knowing that I was the reason why she was crying.”
You nodded your head in understanding. Then, Joe gently took your trembling hands from your coat pockets and held your hands in his.
“So… it is over?” You asked.
“It has been over a long time ago.” Joe replied.
You stared at both of your hands and bit your lower lip. Joe could see that you were struggling to accept all of this, but he could also see that you knew it was the truth. You could see it in his eyes. You have always known that. His eyes always spoke the truth.
“I meant what I said.” Joe murmured. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like shit. I’m sorry for making you think that you’re just a second choice and for pretending that I wanted Ivy. Most of all, I’m sorry that I kept this agreement going even when I knew that you were the one that I wanted. Even when I knew that I loved you and couldn’t tell you.”
Your heart suddenly couldn’t fit in your chest. It was beating a thousand miles per hour, and you couldn’t breathe. You tried to stabilize your breathing as Joe caressed your trembling hands with his thumbs.
“I’m sorry I kept running away from this. You were right that night, you know?” You said. “I was scared to let someone in. Someone who cares about me.”
Joe cupped your face with his hands and caressed your cheek with his thumb. Your knees felt weak, and you moved closer until both of your faces were just inches from each other. Joe grazed his nose softly against yours, making you grin happily.
“I love you.” Joe muttered.
“I love you too.” You finally said before finally pressing your lips against his.
Joe wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you deeply. He kissed you as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. You smiled through the kiss and finally let all your fears and insecurities go. You let Joe take them away and locked them up in a box and threw them away in the ocean.
You finally let go and told yourself that you deserved this. You deserved to love someone and have them love you back.
“So, does that mean you’re not leaving?” Joe teased you as soon as he pulled away.
“Hm… no.”
You both laughed in unison as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Joe gave you a soft happy smile as he leaned in again and kissed you. In surprise, you let out a squeal as he picked you up and carried you down the hall towards his bedroom.
“No.” You said, holding onto the doorframe as Joe paused in his tracks. “My room.”
Joe raised his brow at you, surprised that you had suggested that idea. He never had stepped inside your bedroom because he knew your boundaries but fuck boundaries, right? You wanted to let him inside your life. Inside your private mind where you kept your private thoughts and insecurities. You wanted him to know you. To know every corner of your mind.
“Are you sure?” Joe asked.
“Absolutely.”
Joe couldn’t help but smile as he walked towards your bedroom. His eyes immediately wandered around the four walls, curious of your private space that he has never seen before. Gently setting you down on your bed, he towered over you as you let out a soft giggle.
“I love your room.” He whispered, his lips finding your neck.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as you ran your fingers through his curly hair.
“It’s yours now too.” You whispered as Joe stared down at you.
For a moment, he studied you as you reached your hand up to brush his cheek softly. He was yours and you were his. You love Joe and he loves you. That was all that mattered right now. You didn’t want to worry about anything else. This was you accepting that this was real.
No more pretending.
No more acting.
No more fake relationships.
This was all real.
Joe was real and so were the two of you together.
Leaning down, Joe kissed you softly as he pulled the duvet over the both of you, your soft laughters echoed the room.
The End.
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