#but she thought that about me a few years back

[mapis-putellas]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Spanish is in italics

The night Alexia ended your relationship replayed in your mind more often than you cared to admit. It was supposed to be an ordinary evening, the two of you curled up on the sofa after her training session. But Alexia had been distant, her responses clipped and her gaze avoiding yours. Then she finally said it, her voice steady but her words shaking your entire world: she couldn’t do this anymore.

Her reasons were all logical, rational even. She was too busy, her schedule too demanding, and she felt it wasn’t fair to you. But as much as her reasoning made sense, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Two years of love and memories had been stripped away in a matter of minutes. You’d begged her to reconsider, told her you didn’t need perfection, that you’d wait for her no matter how busy her life got. But Alexia, stubborn and unrelenting, had stood her ground. And just like that, it was over.

The first few weeks were unbearable. You threw yourself into work, trying to ignore the aching hole in your chest. Nights were the hardest. The bed felt too big, the silence too loud, and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out for her in the dark.

Eventually, you started to put yourself back together, piece by piece. You weren’t healed, not even close, but you refused to let Alexia’s decision consume you. When a friend suggested setting you up on a date, you hesitated at first but eventually agreed. You told yourself it wasn’t about moving on—just an evening out, a distraction from the endless loop of memories that haunted you.

The restaurant was intimate, dimly lit with soft jazz playing in the background. Your date was perfectly nice—kind, funny, and clearly interested in you. But as charming as she was, you couldn’t fully focus. Everything she said or did reminded you of Alexia. The way she brushed her hair behind her ear wasn’t as graceful. Her laugh didn’t have the same warmth. You hated yourself for comparing, but it was impossible not to.

Unbeknownst to you, Mapi and Ingrid were seated a few tables away. Mapi had been mid-conversation with Ingrid when she spotted you. At first, she thought she was mistaken, but the sight of you leaning slightly across the table, smiling at someone who wasn’t Alexia, confirmed it. She froze, her sharp brown eyes narrowing as she tried to process what she was seeing.

By the time the meal was over and you’d stepped outside the restaurant, Mapi was waiting, her posture stiff and her expression thunderous. She barely gave you a chance to react before she stormed up to you.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped.

You blinked, startled by her sudden appearance and the hostility in her tone. “Mapi? What are you—?”

“With her?!” Mapi gestured wildly in the direction of the restaurant. “You’re with someone else? What about Alexia?”

Her words stung, a sharp reminder of everything you were trying to move past. Your initial confusion gave way to defensiveness, and you crossed your arms, meeting her glare head-on. “She broke up with me, Mapi. Over a month ago. You didn’t know?”

Mapi’s anger faltered, her brows knitting together as the realisation sank in. “What?” she asked, her voice quieter now, laced with disbelief.

“She ended it,” you repeated, your voice cracking slightly. “She said she didn’t have time for a relationship. She said it wasn’t fair to me. So, yeah, I’m on a date because she decided I wasn’t worth it.”

Mapi’s jaw tightened, her anger now directed elsewhere. “She didn’t tell me. She never said anything.”

You shrugged, your shoulders sagging. “Well, now you know. Can I go now? I’d really rather not have this conversation in the middle of the street.”

Mapi didn’t respond immediately. She was too busy trying to piece together everything you’d just told her. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

You nodded stiffly, brushing past her without another word.

Mapi didn’t waste any time confronting Alexia. When she showed up at Alexia’s apartment later that night, she didn’t bother knocking—she stormed right in, finding Alexia on the sofa with her head in her hands. She looked up in surprise, her eyes wide as Mapi launched into a tirade.

“How could you not tell me?” Mapi demanded, her voice sharp. “You broke up with her and didn’t think to mention it? I just yelled at her in the middle of the street!”

Alexia’s face crumpled. “I couldn’t,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was too hard to even think about it, let alone talk about it.”

Mapi’s anger softened slightly, but her frustration remained. “You need to fix this, Alexia. Do you know where I saw her tonight? Where I yelled at her? On a date. With someone else.”

Alexia’s breath hitched, vision swimming with tears as her hands grip the edge of the sofa. “She was… on a date?”

“Yes,” Mapi confirmed. “And you have no one to blame but yourself. You pushed her away, and now she’s moving on.”

Alexia buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Mapi’s tone softened, but her words were firm. “You love her, don’t you?”

Alexia nodded, her voice breaking as she said, “More than anything.”

“Then fight for her,” Mapi said simply.

*

When Alexia finally showed up at your door, she looked nothing like the composed, confident woman the world knew. Her hair was dishevelled, hidden under a baseball cap. Her eyes were red-rimmed from both the tears and lack of sleep, and she was clutching a bouquet of your favourite flowers like it was her last lifeline.

When you opened the door and saw her standing there, your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Alexia broke the silence, her voice trembling as she said, “I made a mistake.”

You wanted to slam the door in her face, to protect yourself from the pain of letting her back in. But the vulnerability in her eyes held you in place.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought…I could not give you what you deserve, that I only hurt you by keeping you in my life. But I was wrong. I know it. Please…I want to explain.”

Without a word, you stepped aside, letting her in.

Her movements were hesitant, her eyes scanning the space she hadn’t seen in over a month, yet still felt so much like hers. She stood near the door, awkward and unsure, her fingers fiddling the flowers in her grasp, her thumb rubbing over the plastic wrapping in a nervous rhythm.

You closed the door behind her, your back leaning against it for support. It was hard to reconcile the Alexia who had walked away from you with the one now standing in your living room, looking so lost. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she faltered, exhaling sharply as she looked down at her feet.

“Sit,” you said, your voice low and firm. You gestured to the sofa. She nodded, grateful for the direction, and slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the cushion, setting the flowers down onto the coffee table. She didn’t sink back like she once would have, her posture remaining stiff, as though the act of relaxing was too much to allow herself.

You stayed standing, arms crossed, creating a physical barrier between the two of you. “Say what you came here to say,” you said, keeping your tone steady even though your chest ached.

Alexia’s eyes darted up to meet yours, wide and glassy. “I…” She paused, frustration flashing across her face as she struggled to find the right words in English. “Lo siento,” she said finally, voice thick with emotion. “I—sorry. Sorry por todo.”

“That’s it?” you asked, your voice laced with disbelief. “You break my heart, disappear for weeks, and now you just say sorry?”

Her jaw tightened, and she shook her head quickly. “No, no! Not just…sorry.” She pressed her hand to her chest as if trying to pull the words from her heart. “I need…to explain. To tell you. But my English…”

“Try,” you said sharply, your arms dropping to your sides. “You didn’t care about your English when you decided to leave me. So try now.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she nodded her head. “I…I was scared,” she began haltingly, her accent heavier than usual. “Of…failing you. Of hurting you.” She clenched her fists, her knuckles white. “My life is…busy. Always. Football, travel, media…no time for you. I think…you deserve more.”

“More?” you prompted, your tone softening slightly.

She nodded quickly. “Yes. More. Someone who…who is here. Always. Not…far. Not…missing things.” She rubbed her temple, groaning softly in frustration. “I can’t say it…right.”

“You’re saying it fine,” you replied. “You thought you weren’t enough for me?”

Alexia’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto yours, shiny with tears. “Yes,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not enough. Never enough. And I was…scared. So I think…leave you before…you hate me.”

You stared at her for a second before shaking your head. “You didn’t even give me a choice,” you said, your voice cracking. “You decided for me, Alexia. You took away my say in our relationship.”

Her face crumpled, and she pressed her hands to her temples, visibly frustrated with herself. “I know. I know,” she said, slipping back into Spanish as the words tumbled out faster than she could control. “I’m an idiot. I didn’t think about you, about how you would feel. I only thought about my own fear, my own insecurity. And now... now I’m here, begging you, because I can’t lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined not to break so easily. “If you’re so afraid of losing me,” you said, your voice quieter now, “why did it take you so long to come back?”

“Because I’m a coward,” she admitted. “Coward. I think…maybe you are better without me. But then… Mapi…she tell me…you are on a date.” Her voice wavered, and her hands dropped to her lap as she looked at you with so much raw vulnerability it was almost unbearable. “And I know…I can’t. I can’t let you go. Even if I don’t deserve you, I need you.”

The room fell silent, her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. You moved closer, your feet carrying you to the edge of the coffee table. “Do you know what it’s been like for me?” you asked, not wanting to further the obvious guilt she was feeling, but needing her to know just what her actions had caused. “Trying to move on when I still love you? Trying to convince myself that I’ll be okay when all I want is you?”

Her eyes filled with tears, one slipping free and tracing a line down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how to fix it. But I want to try. Please…let me try.”

You sank down onto the coffee table, your knees brushing hers. “I don’t know if I can trust you not to leave again,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

She reached out, her hand trembling as she gently took yours. Her touch was warm, grounding, and so achingly familiar. “I will not leave,” she said firmly, her eyes locking onto yours. “Never again. I promise. I swear…siempre.”

Siempre. Always. It was the word you’d whispered to each other late at night, the promise you’d clung to when things were hard. And now, here she was, offering it back to you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. “I don’t know if I can go through this again.”

Alexia’s grip on your hand tightened, her other hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I’m scared too,” she said, her voice shaking but resolute. “But I will do everything to show you. To prove… you can trust me. I love you. More than anything. More than anything.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch as your tears fell onto her hand. She tenderly wiped them away with her thumb. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hitch of your breaths until slowly, you opened your eyes, meeting her gaze.

“You broke my heart,” you said, your voice wavering. “But I still love you.”

A quiet sob escaped her lips as she pressed her forehead to yours. “I will fix it,” she choked out. “I will fix us.”

It wasn’t a promise you believed easily, but in that moment, you knew you wanted to give her the chance to try. Always.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[lexxicona]

Long personal story that’s related to this I promise.

Back in the 1950’s my paternal grandfather (we’ll call him Lee) had a massive crush on a girl (we’ll call her Joan). Their love was kind of forbidden because Joan came from a family of wealthy and prestigious Texan oil barons and Lee came from the wrong side of the tracks. Anyway, Lee gets Joan pregnant while they’re still in high school and to avoid a scandal her family ships her up to Kansas City where she finishes up her last year and gives birth to a healthy baby boy. She gives him up for adoption and to the best of my knowledge that’s the last she hears about him. She eventually marries someone else.

Meanwhile, time goes by and the now 20-year old Lee gets into a horrific motorcycle accident and succumbs to the Florence Nightingale effect with the person who’s taking care of him, a 16 year old woman who’ll we’ll call Caroline. Caroline is notable because she eventually becomes my paternal grandmother. As a young child, my father Lee jr is told that he should be on the lookout, as someday his half brother may try to contact him.

Decades pass and I’m born. By this point Joan’s husband is out of the picture (I’m actually not sure if they divorced or he died), Caroline and Lee have been divorced for like 20 or so years, and both sets of couple’s children have grown and have kids of their own. Joan’s parents and older family members are long dead and Joan is now an independent adult and thus remarries to…my Grandfather, Lee.

One day Dad’s on the computer doing ancestry stuff and he notices that he’s been contacted by someone claiming to be a close relative of us.

It’s Dad’s older half-brother. His name is Mark and he lives over in Kansas City and has his entire life (at this point in my life we’ve been living an hour away in Topeka for a Few years) and he and dad meet up and catch up on life.

Anyway the point of all this is When me and dad watched the GOTG holiday special together, he compared Peter finding out Mantis is his half-sister to him finding Mark his half brother and I thought that was a really heartwarming connection

The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special dir. James Gunn | 2022

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

AN: Annnd we're back! Buckle up guys, because if you thought Nancy was fucking up before you have no idea lolololol

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [Three weeks had gone by since the holidays. I was starting to see less of Vanessa, who was constantly busy with her work]

Nancy Narrates: [I tried my to hide how much I missed her around but I was certain my yearning was written all over my face]

Queenie: [hums absently] The holiday issue of the foundation’s newsletter is late. No surprise, it was late last year as well.

Queenie: Did you fire your stylist, Nancy? You’re not even coordinated with your husband and sons, it’s as if they’ve plucked a stranger off the street and had you pose together.

Geoffrey: With all due respect, Nancy looks amazing. She always does. She puts a great deal of effort into how she presents herself in front of the press.

Queenie: Looking the part is the point, Geoffrey. Regardless if she is standing CEO, she is a wife and mother first. I've mentioned this to her countless times, it’s as though she's still a little girl.

Geoffrey: [whispers] Hey. You looked amazing, Nancy. You always do.

Jonathan: Can we play in the courtyard, Grandma?

Queenie: Of course you can, my darling. I was just looking over your holiday photos, and you looked so very handsome, Jonathan.

Malcolm: And me? What about me!

Queenie: [frowns] Where on Earth did you get this...this girlish necklace from?

Malcolm: Mommy’s best friend got it for me for Christmas.

Queenie: [rolls eyes] Ah. Right. The movie star.

Malcolm: Auntie V isn’t a movie star.

Queenie: And who exactly is Auntie V?

Jonathan: Mommy’s friend from school, Auntie Vanessa.

Queenie: Villareal?

Nancy: I- D-didn’t you boys want to play in the um, in the courtyard?

Queenie: Geoffrey. I trust that you are doing your part by keeping your wife aligned with the values of our faith, yes? I’d hate to see her fall into old habits.

[phone rings]

Vanessa: Hello?

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi Nancy. How are you, love?

Nancy: Miserable. I’m having breakfast at my mother’s. [chuckles softly]

Vanessa: Oh fuck. [laughs] That sucks, I’m sorry babes.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you.

Vanessa: I miss you too.

Nancy: When can I see you again?

Vanessa: Soon. I have a business trip in DSV. I’ll be gone a few days.

Nancy: A few days? You’ll miss my birthday..

Vanessa: Trust me, that’s the last thing I want. But you know how it is with work.

Nancy: [hesitates] You don’t suppose- I don’t want to impose but...maybe I could come with you?

Vanessa: Come with me on my work trip?

Nancy: I know how to keep myself busy. I won’t interfere with your work- whatever it is. But I’d like to spend my birthday together. It’s the only thing I want. Please.

Vanessa: Well, when you sound so sweet like that, how could I ever refuse?

-

Geoffrey: So, you’ll be gone a week.

Nancy: Right. You know Judy. Every day is an event.

Geoffrey: Vanessa too, right?

Nancy: Well...yes, of course. Just my two best friends celebrating my birthday with me.

Geoffrey: Right. Yeah.

Nancy: Oh, and I’ve already told the boys we can all celebrate together when I’m back. I told them not to fuss about it, I promise I won’t be too partied out.

Geoffrey: Nancy?

Geoffrey: Are you having an affair?

Nancy: W-what did you just say to me?

Geoffrey: I said, are you having an affair?

Nancy: [voice tremors] W-why? Why are you asking me that?

Geoffrey: I saw the marks, Nance. I wasn’t sure, at first, but I saw them. On the inside of your thigh on our anniversary. They look like hickies. And I kept thinking about when you came home late from work in tears...but you never said why. Is there someone else? Another man? Another...

Nancy: Oh my god- no! No, Geoffrey! I’d never- I’ve always bruised easily, you know that. I could have bruised myself at work, on site. And that night.. I know that I’m not a good wife. I know I’ve been away from home. I’m trying to do better. I am. You know that. But I am not having an affair of all things.

Geoffrey: But I saw them, Nance...

Nancy: [whimpers] You are the only man I’ve ever loved. Please...please believe that. I need you to believe it.

Geoffrey: Nancy..

Nancy: I love you so much. I do.

Geoffrey: [exhales] Nancy-

[car horn beeps]

Nancy: That’s Vanessa. Should I send her away? I could stay home, if you want.

Geoffrey: [frowns] If I want?

Nancy: I don’t have to go. I can stay.

Geoffrey: You should go.

Nancy: Are you sure, Geoffrey?

Geoffrey: if that’s what you want.

Nancy: [gently] I love you.

Vanessa: Ready?

Nancy: Yes. I’m ready.

[poetic-vulgarity]

ᎮᎥᏖᎩ ᎮᏗᏒᏖᎩ - Kim Minjeong x Reader

Word count: ~5K

Prompt: When Minjeong transferred to an elite school, she didn't expect to catch the attention of Y/N, the golden girl. Then again, she also didn't expect Y/N to be the root of all her misery.

Tags: slow burn; angst; drama; high school! AU; richgirl!Y/N; happy ending (?)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Ask any student out there how they feel about school, and you'll get the same answer.

It's shit.

There was no way around it, especially not for someone like Minjeong.

Shy, quiet, reserved.

She was a walking billboard that practically screamed "bully me."

And bullied she was. Ever since high school began, she'd been their favorite target. They scrawled insults on her desk, threw food at her, and even stuffed her into a locker once.

Minjeong thought it was just the way life worked. Some people were born unlucky.

Then Taeyu came along. Messy, reckless, the kind of girl who could (and would) fight anyone. For reasons Minjeong never fully understood, Taeyu liked her. And the bullying stopped.

They became best friends. Two years passed, and things weren't perfect, but Minjeong started to believe she could survive.

She wished Taeyu was there now.

If she had Taeyu by her side, all the stupid kids wouldn't be staring at her as she made her way through the doors of her new school. 

The towering entrance of Elite Open School Korea loomed before her. The glossy floors, the spotless hallways, the sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows—it was the kind of school where the rich ate up success like it was their birthright.

Minjeong didn’t belong there.

But she didn’t need to belong. She just needed to graduate. The full scholarship had been her ticket there, and she wasn’t planning to waste it. Screw fitting in. She’d keep her head down, study hard, and get the diploma.

Still, as she stepped inside, her confidence wavered. The air was heavy and she could feel the weight of all the judgmental eyes on her. She held her bag tighter and pulled out her crumpled schedule, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to make sense of it.

The school was massive. Minjeong had no idea where to start.

"You’re with me."

Startled, Minjeong looked up and found herself face-to-face with a stunning girl who radiated confidence.

"I’m Jimin, student president. I’m supposed to take you to your class," the girl said, her tone light and warm.

Relief washed over Minjeong. She nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Jimin didn’t wait for a response before turning and heading down the hallway, her polished shoes clicking softly against the floor.

Minjeong hurried to follow, her school bag thumping awkwardly against her back. "I'm Minjeong." 

Jimin looked over her shoulder, a few loose strands of hair brushing her face as she smiled. "I know who you are; I was the one who made your schedule." Jimin replied with a soft chuckle. "Had to fit you and the other new students into the system."

Minjeong blinked, processing her words. "That... explains a lot, actually."

Her schedule was a mess: classes from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., a long break, and then another class that ran until 10 p.m. She wasn’t sure if it was legal to keep students in school that long but they were all rich there. Who cared if they were breaking rules?

Jimin grimaced. "Yeah, sorry about that. In my defense, though, you signed up for a lot of extracurriculars."

Minjeong’s lips twitched into a small smile. "Don’t apologize. It’s fine."

"It’ll be cool; we have a few classes together," Jimin added with a grin.

When they reached the classroom, Jimin stopped and turned to her. "Here we are. All your classes today are on this floor, so you shouldn't get too lost. But if you do, text me. My number's on the schedule I sent you."

Minjeong nodded, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Thank you, Jimin."

"Of course. Have a good first day, okay?" With a wave, Jimin disappeared down the hall, leaving Minjeong standing at the door, alone.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.

Sure, a few students glanced her way as she walked in, their gazes sharp and appraising. Most of them didn’t bother hiding their curiosity—or their judgment. The guys wore designer shoes and watches, while the girls carried handbags that probably cost more than her family’s car.

Minjeong ignored them and scanned the room for a seat. She spotted one near the back and made her way over.

"That seat’s taken."

The voice was cold and cutting, and Minjeong froze mid-sit.

The girl who spoke was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Minjeong swallowed and stood up, looking around for another desk. She wasn’t there to make a scene.

"That one’s taken too," the girl said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Why don’t you show her to her seat, Lee?"

The new voice came from the front of the room. Minjeong turned and saw another girl leaning back lazily in her chair.

She was stunning, easily the prettiest girl in the room, with an air of casual arrogance that made her seem untouchable. Her uniform was pristine, not a single hair out of place, and her expression was unreadable.

Lee, the first girl, faltered. "I—uh..."

"Go on," the pretty girl said, her tone light but commanding. "Since every seat is taken, show her one that isn’t."

Lee clenched her jaw but got up with a huff, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "Fine. Follow me."

Minjeong glanced at the pretty girl again before trailing behind Lee, her head bowed.

"This one," Lee said, motioning to an empty desk.

"No," the other girl called out, her voice calm. "Not that one. She won’t be able to see the board properly."

Minjeong’s grip on her bag tightened. The room felt suffocating, every set of eyes burning into her as Lee led her to another seat.

"Here?"

"Still not good," the girl said, her tone almost playful.

Minjeong clenched her jaw, frustrated at the situation. This was all a game, and she was the entertainment.

Finally, the pretty girl tilted her head. "Tell you what. She’ll just take your seat, Lee."

Lee stiffened but didn’t argue. Her eyes flashed with anger as she grabbed her bag and stomped off.

Minjeong hesitated. She didn’t want to take Lee’s spot, didn’t want to make things worse. But when the girl raised an eyebrow and her eyes darted from her to her new assigned seat, Minjeong sighed and sat down.

She kept her head down, rummaging through her pencil case, her eyes fixed on the desk in front of her.

An awkward silence loomed over the classroom, broken only by the sound of students chatting and the occasional burst of laughter.

Minjeong’s eyes shifted to Lee, noticing the way she kept a sharp eye on her former seat. A part of her felt bad for taking it, but it was already done.

She took out her notebook, pen, and highlighter from her bag and placed them on the desk. Her hands went up to brush her short hair back behind her ears.

Minjeong’s eyes darted up to the front, looking for the teacher. Instead, she noticed the pretty girl from before standing in front of her.

Minjeong tilted her head up, keeping her shock and awkwardness from showing on her face. The girl was stunning—her features soft, her lashes long, and her lips plump.

The girl gave her a small smile. "The view okay?"

Minjeong’s head spun at the words. Her cheeks instantly flared up with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to stare. She didn’t even realize she was staring in the first place.

"Sorry," she responded hastily. Her eyes darted around the room, desperate to look anywhere but at the stranger.

The girl chuckled lightly. "I meant the board."

"Oh."

Minjeong felt like her soul left her body out of sheer embarrassment. She couldn’t stop staring at the stranger earlier, and now she’d somehow made it worse for herself.

"Yes, it’s a great view," she mumbled, her voice small. She forced a smile, hoping to salvage the situation.

Minjeong tried to focus elsewhere, her eyes shifting to the window and the students outside, chatting with their friends and enjoying lunch—blissfully unaware of her predicament.

The girl smiled wider, clearly amused.

She extended her hand, drawing it towards Minjeong. "I’m Y/N."

Minjeong hesitated for a moment before reaching out her own hand to shake Y/N’s. "Minjeong," she replied, the handshake lasting a beat longer than necessary before she quickly pulled away.

Y/N was… a lot. Minjeong wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Was she just messing with her, or did she genuinely want to be friends?

"Pleasure to meet you," Y/N said with a nod.

Minjeong blinked. What high schooler said "pleasure to meet you"?

"You too," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

A tense silence stretched between them as the two of them stared at each other. Minjeong wanted to look away, to dig into her bag for something to distract herself, but her eyes kept finding their way back to Y/N.

"Welcome to the school. I’m sure you’ll fit in well." With that final comment, Y/N turned on her heel and walked back to her seat.

Minjeong let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Y/N was intimidating. She was too pretty and confident for her own good, and Minjeong didn’t know what to make of her.

All she wanted was to get through the day without any more trouble.

And, for the most part, she did.

During lunch hour, Minjeong hid in the library. Her other classes went by without much ruckus.

Throughout her first week, she realized that she shared a lot of classes with Y/N. She saw the popular girl almost every day. Correction: she noticed the small smiles Y/N sent her between classes—almost every day.

It was… weird.

Y/N had a cool friend group and a perfect reputation around the school. She had no reason to even notice Minjeong.

“You need to leave the newbie alone. Her friends died. Have a little compassion.”

Y/N turned to glare at Yeonjun. It was Friday, and the group was eating lunch together. Since Monday, Y/N hadn’t seen Minjeong set foot in the cafeteria.

“You could be a bit more respectful about it, no?”

Yeonjun pouted dramatically. “Chill, I was joking.”

“Our Y/N is protective over the newbie,” Aeri teased, nudging Y/N’s side playfully, trying to get a reaction out of her.

“Why would I be protective over anyone?” Y/N huffed, picking at her food as if it were playdough. Her eyes lingered on the unopened sandwich she’d bought that morning.

“Well, you keep looking for her,” Chaewon pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she sat down beside Yeonjun with a knowing smile. “In class and now here.”

Y/N felt cornered. She usually didn’t show this much interest in anyone, and her friends had noticed. It was irritating.

Before she could mutter an excuse for her behavior, her phone rang. Her friends immediately knew who was calling by the look on her face.

“I’ll see you guys later.” She grabbed her belongings and stood up, phone already raised to her ear. “Yes, Dad?”

The call only lasted a minute or two, but it gave Y/N the perfect excuse to slip away. She wandered into the library, her curious eyes scanning the room for one person in particular.

“Lunch is important, you know?”

Minjeong jumped at the sudden voice, her wide eyes snapping up to see Y/N standing in front of her, hands on her hips.

“Are you stalking me?” The words slipped from Minjeong’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Her heart pounded, anxiety clawing at her throat. She had no idea why Y/N was taking an interest in her—why she kept showing up, insisting on toying with her.

Y/N was surprised, to say the least.

Minjeong had some bite. It wasn’t what Y/N expected from the shy girl she’d met on the first day.

“I guess,” Y/N said with a soft hum, casually pulling a chair out and sitting beside her. She reached into her bag, pulling out the sandwich she hadn’t eaten earlier, and handed it to Minjeong. “Eat.”

Minjeong stared at the sandwich, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I already ate,” she said flatly, not reaching for it.

Y/N’s eyes flicked down to Minjeong’s half-open bag. An apple and a small carton of orange juice sat inside—it was all Minjeong ever brought, and she usually saved it for her late 10 PM class.

“No, you haven’t.”

Minjeong’s shoulders slumped slightly. Y/N was far more observant than she had anticipated.

Minjeong looked down at the sandwich again, conflicted. She wasn’t a fan of being told what to do, but Y/N had clearly gone out of her way to give it to her. Refusing would make her feel bad.

Slowly, she reached out and took the sandwich, giving a small nod.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said casually.

It didn’t take long for Minjeong to finish it.

“So, what are you reading?” Y/N was usually good at making conversation, but with Minjeong, she couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

Minjeong blinked, snapping out of her food-induced daze. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she finished the sandwich. Now that it was gone, her body slumped back in the chair, heavy with fatigue.

Her gaze shifted to the half-read book on the table, her fingers brushing over the cover. She avoided looking at Y/N, knowing how easily she got flustered.

“A book,” she responded plainly, hoping Y/N would get the hint.

Y/N nodded, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Very informative.”

Minjeong sighed, unable to come up with a retort. The silence between them grew, awkward and heavy. She wasn’t used to this—having someone like Y/N hover around her. They were opposites in almost every way, and Minjeong couldn’t fathom why Y/N was even there.

Her eyes lifted briefly from the book, just to check if Y/N was still looking. Their gazes met, and Minjeong’s breath caught. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly looked away quickly.

Y/N cleared her throat, the confidence in her voice softening. She fiddled with her fingers, her usual ease replaced with hesitation. “I’m... sorry about what happened. At your last school.”

Minjeong froze, her eyes widening. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to think of something to say.

She hadn’t expected an apology—least of all from Y/N. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have known how to respond.

Her body tensed, her knee bouncing beneath the table. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy,” Y/N continued, her voice gentle. “Especially with all the idiots making fun of it.”

‘Cancer school.’

The cruel nickname flashed through Minjeong’s mind.

It wasn’t far from the truth.

Several students had suddenly passed away at her old school and it didn't take long for investigators to find out that the building materials used for the school were highly toxic—cancerous, in fact. Minjeong was one of the lucky ones, spared from any trouble. She had survived unscathed, physically at least, and had been granted a scholarship to transfer elsewhere—a quiet bribe to keep her mouth shut. 

Taeyu hadn’t been so lucky.

Minjeong’s hands trembled as the memories clawed their way to the surface. She had buried them so deeply, refusing to confront them, but they always left a bitter taste when they resurfaced.

She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the library. Despite knowing Y/N’s words came from a place of kindness, Minjeong felt a pang of irritation.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hollow, mouth dry. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, emotions she couldn’t quite control.

She stuffed her jacket into her bag, voice shaky as she muttered, “I appreciate it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, alarm flashing across her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“Save it.” Minjeong snapped, cutting her off. She didn’t meet Y/N’s gaze as she shoved her things into her bag and walked away.

She wasn’t sure who she was angry at—Y/N, for bringing it up, or herself, for not being able to let it go.

The wound still felt raw. She wasn’t ready to face it, and all she wanted was to forget.

But after a few days, the sting of her reaction dulled and guilt creped in. 

Y/N had only been trying to be kind, and Minjeong had been rude.

After debating with herself for days, Minjeong decided to swallow her pride and apologise. 

Before one of their shared classes, Minjeong watched as Y/N walked into the room, making her way to her usual seat.

Now or never.

Her heart pounded as she stood, each step toward Y/N feeling heavier than the last. Minjeong didn’t want to be there, she didn’t want to apologize. Admitting she felt bad was almost worse than snapping in the first place.

But the guilt wouldn’t leave her alone, and she knew it wouldn’t until she said something.

“Y/N?”

Y/N looked up from her notebook, her face lighting up when she saw Minjeong. “There you are,” she said, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich—the same kind she’d given Minjeong in the library. “I’ve been eating these all week, and I hate cheese.”

Without hesitation, Y/N extended the sandwich toward Minjeong.

Minjeong stared at it, swallowing hard. She didn’t need pity or charity. That wasn’t why she’d come over.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day,” she said, ignoring the food.

Y/N’s eyes softened, her expression gentle.

Minjeong forced herself to turn away, eager to retreat to her seat. Her conscience was clear now, and she didn’t owe Y/N anything more.

But before she could take another step, a hand caught her wrist.

Y/N’s touch was firm yet delicate, her grip just enough to stop Minjeong without making her feel trapped.

Minjeong turned slowly, pulse quickening as her eyes met Y/N’s.

Y/N smiled, her voice warm and sincere. “I’m the charity act here, not you.” She nodded toward the sandwich still in her hand. “I genuinely hate these sandwiches.”

Minjeong froze for a second... was she that easy to read?

"Why do you keep buying them then?" Minjeong asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Y/N shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm allergic to salmon, and they like to serve it at the cafeteria, so I bring it just in case."

A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

But Minjeong was insistent, "I don't see how that's my problem."

"It's your problem because I want to get to know you," Y/N admitted without hesitation. "And the sandwich was just the perfect excuse for it."

Minjeong wanted to ask why Y/N didn't just buy something she actually liked, but she had a feeling Y/N would have an excuse for that too.

So, she sighed and finally took the food, giving a small nod.

"You're eating this if I ever see salmon being served at the cafeteria," Minjeong added.

Y/N smiled, her eyes lingering on Minjeong. "Deal."

Minjeong could feel her face heating up at how casually Y/N agreed to her request.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Even though she was still uncomfortable with how Y/N was so interested in her, she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to understand why everyone talked about her.

Y/N was kind, sweet, and charming. It was almost impossible to resist her, but Minjeong knew she had to keep her distance.

She kept her distance.

For a few hours.

Later that day, when Y/N asked her to go out for coffee, Minjeong found herself accepting the offer.

Just like she accepted Y/N’s offer to give her her number a few days later.

Minjeong had no control over it. She was just pulled in.

For a while, she tried to fight it, but in the end, she couldn’t.

It felt nice to be liked. Y/N would take her out for lunch and dinner whenever Minjeong was free, always doing whatever it took to make her feel special.

Minjeong hated how addictive it was, getting attention from someone like Y/N. It made it that much harder to ignore her growing attraction.

"We could go to your house, if you'd like?" Y/N asked, leaning against Minjeong’s desk, her eyes carefully gauging Minjeong’s reaction.

They had a group project to do, and thankfully, the teacher let them choose their own partners.

Minjeong shrugged, her eyes drawn to her notebook as she finished her exercise. "I don't know, honestly."

Y/N nodded, her eyes intense. "My house?"

Minjeong paused for a moment to consider the proposition. They’d gone out together before, hung out during breaks, and after school. But being in Y/N’s house felt somehow more personal.

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, sure.”

Y/N's eyes brightened up as a smile took over her face.

It still felt like a double-edged sword. Like Minjeong had a price to pay to be hanging out with Y/N.

"Cool, I'll wait for you by your locker at the end of the day."

Y/N started to walk away, but Minjeong reached out for her hand. "I only finish classes at 10 today."

They had been hanging out four two months by then, Y/N knew Minjeong's schedule by heart.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and brushed a strand of Minjeong's hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it."

By the time she reached her table, Y/N had already cursed herself out at least twenty times.

She needed to get a hold of herself.

Still, she couldn't help the excitement that took over her body. She was getting there. Slowly but surely, she was winning over Minjeong.

Y/N's classes ended at 5 PM that day, so she hung out around school while she waited. She went to the library, finished her homework, and even started on the group project. Who knows? Maybe if Minjeong saw that the project was well advanced, she'd agree to watch a movie. Or just talk.

By the time 10 PM came around, Y/N was wrapped up in her long coat, hands stuck in her pockets as she waited for Minjeong.

Minjeong arrived at 10:10, accompanied by a figure that had Y/N freezing up.

Jimin.

The student council president.

Her ex-girlfriend.

An ex-girlfriend that also seemed surprised at seeing Y/N.

"Oh, hi." Jimin tried to smile, turning to Minjeong with a gulp. "You didn't tell me your friend was her."

Minjeong stood there, hands in her hoodie pocket as she looked between Y/N and Jimin in confusion. "You two know each other?"

Jimin and Y/N's history was complicated, and Y/N hated thinking or talking about it. But it happened. She was her first love.

"Yeah," Jimin responded, her eyes glued on Y/N. "We were toge-"

"-It's a small school." Y/N barely looked back at Jimin. "Should we get going? It's a little late already."

Minjeong wasn't oblivious to the way Jimin and Y/N looked at each other. The air was thick with tension, and Y/N seemed oddly uncomfortable the whole time, her body language closed off.

Something was definitely going on, Minjeong couldn’t shake that feeling all the way to Y/N's house.

Once they reached their destination, Minjeong looked around curiously. Y/N didn’t mention that she was well off, but it was almost expected of her.

Popular girl at an elite school.

Minjeong wasn't surprised to be led to a mansion in Gangnam-gu.

It was lavish and spacious. Minjeong felt like she had to pay a tax just to look at the furniture.

"Your parents already sleeping?"

Y/N shook her head, leading the way upstairs to her room.

"My parents live in Dobong. I live with a few employees."

"Oh," Minjeong was surprised, but it seemed normal for Y/N. Was that a normal thing for rich people? "Why is that?"

Minjeong caught the way Y/N's shoulders tensed up for just a second. "For work."

She decided to not touch the subject again as they finally arrived at Y/N's room.

It was a tidy space. The bedroom was nice, cozy, and chic. Minjeong couldn’t help but wonder if it was even a room made for a teenager, though. It looked like the rooms Minjeong had seen at IKEA.

"I didn't know you were friends with Jimin," Y/N let out quietly, taking off her blazer and loosening her tie. She looked at Minjeong with soft but darker eyes than usual.

Minjeong was caught off guard, to say the least.

Her eyes followed Y/N's figure—she had never seen her without the blazer.

Y/N undid the top of her button-up shirt, and suddenly, Minjeong felt the need to look away.

"I- yeah. I eat and have a few classes with her sometimes. Met her on my first day at school."

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes following Minjeong as the short-haired girl looked around her room. 

She sat on her bed almost unmoving, back tensely upright. "Do you like her?"

Minjeong blinked at the question, her brain processing the words.

Did she like Jimin? She supposed she did. The other girl was nice and always helpful, plus she didn’t tease Minjeong about her past either.

She wasn't sure what prompted Y/N to ask, but Minjeong answered honestly.

"Yeah, she's nice. Why?"

"Nice in a way that makes you want to date her?"

The question had Minjeong's head snapping to Y/N, eyes wide.

"I- uh-" Minjeong swallowed hard, her cheeks heating up at the insinuation.

"We're just friends," she blurted out. "Why do you ask?"

Y/N let out a hum, eyes fixed on Minjeong, "Because I like you."

Minjeong's breath hitched when Y/N said those words. That was not what she’d been expecting to hear.

Her heart pounded in her ears, so loud it almost drowned out every other sound. She just stood there staring at Y/N, eyes wide.

After a few painfully silent moments, Minjeong found the voice to ask, "You what?"

Y/N looked down at her hands, fingers playing with each other as she gathered her words.

"I know we've only known each other for a few months, but I like you. I was wondering if you'd let me get to know you even better. Maybe get closer?"

"You...you want to date me?"

The words were barely a whisper, the disbelief evident in Minjeong's face and the way she looked at Y/N.

She was torn on what to say. Minjeong didn't want to get her hopes up again, but Y/N made her feel something.

Her body was screaming at her to say yes, but her mind was telling her to refuse.

Things had been awkward with Jimin. Minjeong was sure Y/N was hiding something from her. She was Y/N. No one like Y/N would ever want anything to do with Minjeong. There had to be another reason for all this.

Y/N smiled, "Well, yes, eventually. I'm not very traditional, but I would like to court you first, if you'd let me."

Minjeong's eyes dropped back down to her hands, her mind whirling with a multitude of possible outcomes.

What if it didn't work out? What if things exploded in their face and they couldn't even be friends anymore?

Did it matter?

It was just dating. It wasn't like Minjeong was agreeing to marry Y/N. If things went sideways, they could always break up and go back to being friends.

"I- could you give me a little time to think about it?"

Minjeong inwardly chastised herself as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

She had just rejected the most popular girl in school.

She had just rejected Y/N.

Well, sort of rejected, right?

Things weren't over. Minjeong just needed to think things over.

Y/N smiled as gently as always, "Of course. You have all the time in the world, Minjeong. I don't want to rush anything."

Minjeong felt like she could breathe so much easier after Y/N said that, as if a boulder had been lifted from her chest. She'd half expected Y/N to be mad or angry at her, but she was still smiling softly.

Not that Minjeong would know how to handle Y/N when she was angry. She couldn't even imagine it.

"Thank you," Minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible in Y/N's room but still loud enough to be heard. "I promise to get back to you soon."

It was Y/N's turn to feel her chest lightening up.

Things weren't ruined.

She hadn't ruined anything.

Minjeong just needed her time, and Y/N would give it to her.

She had been patient from the start, why wouldn't she be now?

"I appreciate that," Y/N patted the bed at her side. "Come here, let me show you the ideas I had for our project."

Minjeong didn't hesitate to indeed go sit by Y/N's side.

She still felt a little tense but it didn't take long for her to fully relax again.

After a good two hours of work, Minjeong turned around in Y/N's bed, eyes falling on a framed picture on the bedside table. It was Friday so they had all the time in the world to be lazy. Didn't matter how late it was. 

"You looked cute as a baby, you know?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced at the direction Minjeong was staring.

There was a picture of her as a toddler, grinning at the camera with a cute and wide smile that showed off the four teeth she had at the time.

"Oh," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper and a soft smile on her face as she looked at the picture. "Did I?"

She was feeling embarrassed that Minjeong was looking at it. "I don't have many pictures with them, so I keep that one there."

Minjeong nodded quietly, her eyes never leaving Y/N's framed picture. She looked a lot different now, but Minjeong supposed that was true for everyone.

"You looked adorable," she added softly, her eyes glued to the toddler in the photo. It was a little strange to think how much had changed in Y/N's life since then, but Minjeong didn't dwell on it much.

"Do you miss them?" She finally asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as her eyes turned to Y/N.

"Sometimes," Y/N shrugged. It's not like they were dead, she just didn't see them a lot. "It gets harder during the holidays. I was close to my mother, but she's been very... involved in my father's work, so yeah."

"That must be hard..." Minjeong sighed, her eyebrows furrowing in thought.

She couldn't fathom the idea of being away from her own parents.

Withdrawing her eyes from the picture frame, Minjeong scooted a little closer to Y/N. "You know," she spoke softly, "You can always come hang out at my house during the holidays."

"I couldn't possibly bother you... or your family," Y/N shook her head, a small smile rising to her face.

The truth was that Y/N didn't really have a family, and as cold and impersonal as her parents were, they had always given her everything she would need or ask for.

She couldn't complain about anything, but at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder sometimes what it would feel like to have a cozy, warm house instead of a huge empty mansion. Not having to eat alone during Christmas morning.

The idea of Y/N spending the holidays with her was a strange one. Minjeong was just starting to get used to the idea of dating. Her heart beat faster at the mere thought of bringing Y/N around her family.

She'd just have to talk to them first. It wouldn't be too hard, her mother had been asking about Y/N ever since Minjeong first brought her up.

But Minjeong didn't want to get ahead of herself. She was still trying to decide how to respond to Y/N's confession.

Still, she did feel good about the idea of having Y/N around.

"Are you kidding me? My parents would love you more than they love me. I can already picture them serving you first and leaving my siblings and I for last."

Y/N rolled her eyes softly, knowing that Minjeong was just teasing her.

"We'll see where things go and maybe I'll drop by to bring your parents a Christmas gift."

Christmas wasn't that far away, but Minjeong hadn't expected Y/N to even think about buying her family anything. She didn't even know them.

"Oh wow, you're getting my parents a gift but not me?"

A teasing smile appeared on Y/N's face, "They're the ones I want to impress."

Minjeong gasped at Y/N's teasing. She playfully hit the other girl, her own teasing smile on her face. "Are you saying my opinion doesn't matter?" she asked in mock hurt.

Minjeong couldn't deny that it did make her happy.

Y/N didn't have to like her family, but she was still going out of her way to do something nice. Minjeong appreciated it a lot, even if Y/N had a tendency to make her flustered.

"I'm saying their opinion matters more."

Minjeong laughed at that, her eyes crinkling up as she did. "I'm sure they'll like you as much as I do," she said sincerely without thinking about the words.

A beat after the words left her mouth, Minjeong froze. "I just mean..." She cleared her throat. "That you're cool and nice."

"Oh..." Y/N pretended to be flattered. "I'm cool and nice. Who would've thought?"

"I didn't realize you could make jokes," Minjeong shot back teasingly.

"Hilarious."

She liked this, the playful back and forth. She felt comfortable, talking about anything and everything with Y/N.

But there was always the hint in the back of her mind, telling her that there was more to it.

So, she decided to get to the end of the story and brought the topic up during lunch with Jimin, only a few days later. 

"So, what really happened between you and Y/N?"

That caught everyone's attention.

Ning was quick to gulp, eyes drawn on Jimin, and Yunjin almost spat her food out.

Minjeong wasn't expecting that reaction. 

Was the question that bad?

She hesitated, turning to Jimin with a look that screamed 'you don't have to answer if you don't want to'. 

After recollecting her thoughts, Jimin cleared her throat and spoke up. "We dated for two years. Broke up four months ago."

"They were like- the IT couple of the school. It was kind of funny." Ning shook her head, eyes soft and sad as she looked down at the table. 

The group missed Y/N, Aeri, and Chaewon. They had separated from each other after the breakup. Sides were taken. Mistakes were made.

Minjeong wasn’t sure what answer she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Two years. That was a long time, longer than she had imagined. And the fact that they’d only broken up four months ago? It seemed...recent.

Minjeong felt her heart tighten as she listened intently to Jimin. She had a lot of questions, and now that the topic was brought up, might as well ask. "Why'd you two break up?"

The curiosity was getting the better of her. Minjeong had no intention whatsoever of being involved in a love triangle drama. That was the last thing she needed to be associated with.

"Well, I realised I just couldn't associate myself with people like her or her family. It was a moral thing." Jimin spoke about it in a light way, but something about her expression told Minjeong she was still grieving her relationship.

Minjeong nodded at the answer, unsure of how to respond. She glanced over at her friends seated around her, her gaze falling back on Jimin with an uneasy smile. "What's wrong with Y/N and her family?"

"You know, I didn't want to be the one telling you this, but I think it's only fair to you." Jimin sighed. She knew Minjeong went to Y/N's house the other day- being honest was the right thing to do. "Y/N's father is the mayor of Seoul. Those rumors about him being in charge of building your last school are true. Him and his family are just doing their very best to bury the scandal since he's going to run for presidency next year."

"My last school?" Minjeong's voice was soft, throat suddenly dry.

The cheaper but toxic materials used to build the school. The deaths of her friends. Taeyu.

That was all because of Y/N's father.

...and Y/N knew.

Y/N knew all along, didn't she?

All the attention.

All the gifts.

The stupid sandwiches Y/N gave her.

Y/N being nice to her when she didn’t really need to.

It all played back in her mind, over and over again.

Minjeong felt like the biggest fool in the world.

What was she?

Some sort of pity project to Y/N? Was she just being made fun of all along?

Her chest tightened painfully, and she felt the overwhelming need to get away.

Minjeong cleared her throat and stood up from her seat, her chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me,” she said quietly. 

She didn’t wait for a response.

[lovewithmary]

loving hearts (and growing homes), max verstappen & charles leclerc — one

an f1 x mcu crossover

★ fc: madison beer ☆ pairing: stark!oc x max verstappen (current), poly!max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc (future) ★ summary: evangeline "evie" stark has been the subject of headlines even before she was born, subjecting her to much scrutiny over the years. ever since she became a teenager, the media has always speculated on who she was dating, whether it be her long-time best friend/colleague peter parker, or fellow billionaire's child, harry osborn, or whoever they can connect evie with. frankly, it was a little disparaging considering that she's been in a relationship with one max verstappen since they were 15. however, once their relationship has been revealed, will their relationship stay the same, or does a certain monegasque ferrari driver have something to say about it? (spoiler alert: charles wants both of them, not just one) ☆ notes: to those of you who are familiar with my work, this is a reboot of one of my old series, (not) moving on. however, this series is not going to be like (not) moving on, as i've changed a lot of things about the series and what's coming up. so i hope you guys enjoy it!

( 1997, 2004, 2009 ) ( pictures are in chronological order )

( 2012 )

Evie's phone buzzed, removing her attention from what she was working on to grab her phone quickly. She smiled at the sight of Max's text and texted back.

"Is that lover boy texting you? Do I have to revoke your phone privileges or can you refrain from making puppy dog eyes at it?" Tony teased his daughter, fully knowing what was taking her attention.

Evie looked up to see that both her dad and Peter were looking at her. Her dad with the smug look he always made when he had caught her doing something, and Peter with a clueless expression, looking like he didn't have any idea what the conversation was.

She rolled her eyes, sending a response to Max's text before putting her phone down. "I was not making puppy dog eyes. And for your information, it was Max," she said, going back to her laptop.

"Lover boy, Max, same person," Tony remarked.

"Who's Max?" Peter asked.

"Max is..." Evie trailed off, not knowing if Peter was even allowed to know.

Despite her and Max getting together only recently, they had readily agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Not because they were ashamed of it, never because of that (if it had been Max's choice, he would've told everyone he knew he was dating the Evie Stark, future CEO of Stark Industries) (and Evie would've been telling everyone she was dating the Max Verstappen, future F1 WDC).

It was because of the media, for the most part. They both knew how vicious news outlets and gossip columns were, considering they had a few stories come out about them and they didn't even do anything. Evie was familiar with being rumored to be in a relationship with every billionaire son who was in a close age range with her, so she had her fair share of rumors.

"Just tell the kid, he might be here for long enough to meet Max anyways," Tony shrugged.

Evie turned to Peter and said, "Whatever I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room,"

Peter quickly nodded and said, "I won't tell anyone,"

"I have a boyfriend," Evie said.

Peter blinked. "That's it?"

"Okay, I am so not loving the enthusiasm right now," she said.

"I mean, everyone gets boyfriends," Peter shrugged.

"I missed it when you were scared of me and thought I was going to terrorize you," Evie sighed.

"The rumors called you scary! I thought if I looked at you wrong, you were gonna yell at me!" Peter defended.

Evie rolled her eyes and said, "The only reason why I don't want a lot of people knowing is because he's a driver,"

"So what, he drives? I don't have my license yet but that's only 'cause we're in New York and who drives in New York besides Taxi Drivers and Business Men?"

Evie already felt a headache forming. "Not just a driver, a race car driver,"

"Like Dom Toretto? Is that why you're hiding your relationship, because he's older and illegally drives cars? Is he bald too?"

"What—no, Peter, I am dating someone that's our age and drives cars professionally and in no way illegal. And not bald!"

"Oh, who is he? Maybe I know him,"

"His name is Max Verstappen and I highly doubt you know him,"

"Verstappen? Isn't he that driver guy that drove for F1 and Mr Stark talked to him once?"

"Ha, I want you to refer to Jos as 'that driver guy' and see how he reacts," Tony cackled.

"It's not Jos, it's his son. And don't say that ever again, I do not want that insinuation in my mind," Evie gagged.

"Did you guys meet when Mr Stark's nearly died in Monaco?" Peter questioned, the relationship piquing his interest.

It wasn't every day you'd be able to hear the relationship details from someone as well-known as Evie Stark, especially since she had made him swear he wouldn't say anything. Also since a driver wasn't someone he expected Evie to be interested in. Peter thought that she would be dating a billionaire's son or the son of a superhero.

"We met when we were kids, actually. His dad knew mine, and I'm pretty sure Jos was trying to get on Dad's good side using me. But now I'm dating his son and he can't get rid of me so that backfired on him since he and Dad just bicker all the time whenever they see each other," she told him.

"You don't like him, Mr Stark?"

"More like I don't like how he treats his son sometimes, but that's neither here nor there. I just try to make sure the kid gets to be a kid with Evie sometimes," Tony said.

Peter was about to ask one more question, but Evie's phone started to buzz incessantly, indicating someone was calling her.

And based on how Evie's eyes lit up and how she smiled, Peter could only guess that it was Max. "Can I..." Evie trailed off, looking at her dad.

Tony rolled his eyes and said, "Go,"

Evie stood up from her chair and gave a brief hug to Tony and a wave to Peter then said, "Talk to you guys later!"

( 2016 )

"You don't have to watch every race. The time difference is too much, especially here in Spain and you're in New York," Max spoke into the phone.

"Nonsense, if I don't watch every race, then I can't say that I'm the biggest Max Verstappen fan since day one, can I?" Evie replied.

Max smiled at that. Despite Evie regularly insisting she was the original Max Verstappen fan, he still couldn't get used to how much faith she had in him. At this point, it had been 4 to 5 years since he had asked her to be his girlfriend, and she still was so confident in his abilities to reach F1 that he had actually managed to achieve it.

Being together this long was impressive, especially since they were still young and long distance for the most part due to Max's career. But both of them were willing to make it work and put in the effort that was needed to keep the relationship strong. Like daily phone calls and text messages throughout the day helped them.

"Besides, I was already awake so I might as well stay up for a little longer to watch your race," Evie casually said, but Max knew better.

"Did you stay up late again? You know how messed up your sleep schedule is," he lightly scolded her.

Evie had a habit of staying up to work on projects, which she got from Tony. From what he knew, she mainly worked on her dad's Iron Man suits and Peter's Spider-Man suit. There were many sleepless nights Max had spent with Evie when he was over in New York, trying to convince Evie to go to sleep. Most of the time it worked, but other times, he resigned himself to staying up with Evie so she had someone to be with, even if she was focused on her project and wasn't very talkative.

"I'll go to sleep right after your race, promise," she said to appease him, which it kind of did (he would've preferred she sleeps now but he'll take what he can get).

"You wouldn't even miss anything, I probably won't even finish the race again with my luck," Max sighed.

He heard rustling from the other side and Max could just tell that Evie had sat up indignantly, ready to scold him. "Max, you can't say that!" she said, sounding angry at him on his behalf.

"Look, Schat, I'm just being realistic. It's a miracle if I even finish a race," he told her.

"That's not very future World Champion of you,"

"World Champions would finish races," he countered.

"Maxie, you're not gonna win anything—"

"Well, thanks for the words of encouragement,"

"If you let me finish, smartass, you'll hear me say you aren't gonna win anything with that mindset. And do you think that every World Champion is going to win automatically? It's a process, and you'll get better with time,"

"And how do you know?"

"Because you're Max Verstappen, and when you have your first WDC, I'll be the one beside you to tell you I told you so, and this time I'll be the Trophy Girlfriend," Evie teased.

( 2021 )

sinews has tweeted!

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f1 has tweeted!

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f1gossip has posted on instagram!

29402 likes

f1gossip: Max Verstappen seen with mystery woman 👀👀

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user1: all these angles and you guys couldn’t even get her face??

user2: even dispatch could’ve gotten her face come on guys

user3: HE GETS BITCHES???

user4: all these years we thought he was bitchless, he just knew how to hide it from us

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eviestark has posted on instagram!

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eviestark: my world champion <3

i don't want to say i told you so but... i told you so

ive been in love with you ever since we were 15 and knew you'd become an f1 wdc for even longer than that.

happy 9-year anniversary and congrats to your first wdc (and many more to come)!

tagged: maxverstappen

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maxverstappen: I love you schatje ❤︎ by eviestark and 56733 others

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[seitmai]

As always, many many thoughts

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Oh God this is obnoxious

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

I just want to give her a hug! Also Cat would never!

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

Urgh I just hate Indigo

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

🥺🥺🥺

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile. "Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him. "I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Omg Bradley is oblivious it hurts

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?" He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

🥰🥰🥰

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

Well, let's get to it 🤭

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips. He knew. He knew all about it.

😌😌😌

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again." "No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Oh he definitely has a breeding kink 🤭

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

Understandably

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

The worst feeling

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

He's so sweet and thoughtful (if he wants to be)

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

Ahahahah

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

Valid haha

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list.

I bet he is more excited about this than he lets on 🤭

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon." You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips. Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

I am all against violence, but I really want to punch Indigo in the face

Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling. 

He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.

There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."

The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."

Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.

"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed. 

"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."

Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.

He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.

"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."

Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.

"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.

"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."

------------------------------

You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.

"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."

You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.

"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.

You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."

He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.

You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.

"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.

"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.

"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"

He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

-----------------------------

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.

He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy. 

"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."

You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.

His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.

"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.

Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."

You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.

"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.

Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.

Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.

He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.

You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."

"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."

---------------------------

By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you. 

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."

"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."

"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"

"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."

"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."

"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.

Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.

"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.

You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.

"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."

"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."

You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.

Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

-----------------------------

He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[simpurnatural]

"Feelings" || Requested Oneshot

XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader

Note from Nat: "I received this oneshot request from @plutoOooO! And this is also how I'm announcing that requests are finally open again! *fireworks and confetti* Enjoy loves <3"

Warning(s): Cussing, Smut, Overstimulation,

Kitty plays Matchmaker once again while everyone's preparing for Chuseok at KISS. This leads to both yours's and Min Ho's untold feelings to step into the spotlight once and for all. Feelings quite stronger than just a crush

"I've brought the shopping!" you called out as you stepped into the boys' dorm room. "Q? Kitty?" you say, kicking off your sneakers and heading into the kitchen.

"Hey Y/n!" Kitty greeted after stepping out of her bedroom. "Thanks so much for wanting to help with Chuseok." she smiled as she gave you a hug.

"Of course! I had no idea that so many of us were staying in town for the holiday," you replied, pulling away from the hug. "So, what exactly are we making? Because all I did was follow the list," you said with a little laugh.

"It isn't exactly me and you cooking but rather you and Min Ho," Kitty explained with a knowing grin, which made you heartbeat quicken.

"Me and-"

"-Yep," she nodded, "You guys will be able to spend proper one on one time, totally undisturbed,".

Your lips formed a thin line as you turned to the kitchen sink, “I think I’m going to be sick,” you coughed.

“You’ll be fine, and plus-this is the perfect time to clear the air,” Kitty reminded, patting your back gently.

You and Min Ho had been friends for years. And for half that time, you’ve had feelings for the playboy. And what came with being a playboy? Countless girls, random or never seen again after a few days spent with the friend group.

You always felt as if Min Ho would never want something serious, let alone possible ruin such a good friendship with you. So, for such a long time, you pushed your thoughts and feelings for him away.

No one realized how deep your feelings for Min Ho were til Kitty showed up. She made it her mission as a self-proclaimed Matchmaker to get you two together. She says that “There is definitely some chemistry between you guys.”

“Hey Y/n,” a voice said cheerfully, that voice belonged to Min Ho. “Thanks for getting the shopping,” he beamed as he walked towards you.

“Okay I gotta get going,” Kitty said quickly, dismissing herself from the conversation and the front door shut behind her.

“Hi,” you said with a tight smile, awkwardly moving to grab a couple pans and pots. “What’s on the menu today?” you ask, trying your best to not act weird.

“Well, I do have a method, so I’ll just need you either chop or stir stuff,” Min Ho said as he got closer and placed an arm around your shoulders. “I deem you, my sous chef,” he joked but you couldn’t even find anything he said humorous.

Your stomach felt as if it was flipped upside down. And maybe you were sweating? Maybe you were turning pale? Who knows. But all you knew was that you had no escape and no backup.

“Y/n?”

You snapped out of your nervous daze and looked back up at Min Ho. His face flashed with concern, catching on to your lack of attentiveness.

"Ah yes, I'll just be stirring and chopping away," you say, hands motioning both actions before you quickly dropping them-feeling like a proper idiot.

"Right, let's get to it." Min Ho says, migrating all the veggies and herbs on the counter to the sink. "How come you didn't go visit family Chuseok?" he asks.

"It's quite the journey just to be there for 48 hours or less," you shrugged, clearing the counter of any shopping bags and trash. "What about you?" you questioned.

"As you know, my mom and I usually celebrate Chuseok together, but she couldn't this year. So, she sent me a basket." Min Ho explains, pointing to the gift basket that sat on one of the bar stools.

"That's sweet of her," you commented, glancing over at the present.

Yeah, but my dad? Not so much," he chuckled, drying all the veggies and placing them next to the cutting board. "Can you get started on these?" he requested with a smile.

"Of course," you nodded, absent-mindedly reaching for the onion that was still in Min Ho's hands. "Oh-I"m sorry," you said quickly; after watching it drop to the ground.

"Are you alright Y/n? If you're not up to it, I can get figure this out on my own," he said as he plucked the onion from the floor, wiping it down with a paper towel.

"I'm okay, it's just-" you paused.

"It's what exactly?" Min Ho asks curiously, looking deep into your eyes with his coal black ones.

You took a deep breath before saying, "Okay, Kitty left me here with you so that I could confess my feelings for you". Minho merely blinked so you continued to ramble on. "But clearly, the pressure of me explaining how I fell in love you but also don't want to risk our friendship literally eats my alive!"

"-And I totally understand that you don't feel the same way about me because of that blank look on your face. I just don't know how to stop feeling the way I do about you. I've tried talking to other people and even going on dates but always realized it's you who I wanted to be with." you sigh, and Min Ho squinted slightly with his head tilted to the side.

"-Don't even get me started on the total tens you bring to our hangouts," you add, referring to the girls he brings around. "You're out of my league and such a catch. So honestly, I seem pretty stupid for thinking you might even as much as like me back." you groan as you stormed out of the kitchen and began putting your shoes back on.

"-I just can't do this. I'll just leave." you say, your face feeling hot as you reached for the door.

"Do I not get a say in this?" Min Ho asked, grab hold of your wrist gently.

"I don't feel like hearing you shut me down right now," you grumbled as you turned back to face him.

"Y/n, I'm not going to," he replied with a smile, making your eyes widen.

"What?" you said quickly.

"Why would I? I've fallen for you so hard; a lot, not a little bit." he confessed. "I always thought you were too good for me," he said, now taking proper hold of your hand in his. "You are just so perfect and I'm just me," he shrugged.

You stood in the entryway in disbelief. Min Ho had felt the same way this whole time and you had not a single clue about it.

"If I had known sooner, I would've already done something about it," he said with a smile as he stepped forward and cupped your cheek.

"L-like what exactly?" you stuttered, your breathing hitched as your nose brushed against each other.

"This." Min Ho muttered, pulling you in for a kiss.

Min Ho's soft lips pressed gently against yours and it felt as if they moved in sink. Your arms were slung around his neck as his found their place at the small of your back.

The world felt still but also as if it were spinning, with your eyes shut-all you could focus on was on close Min Ho had pulled you in. It was like he didn't want to ever let you go or move on from this moment. Perhaps you both became the center of gravity, and everything was being put into place.

Both of you pulled away instinctively for some air and your eyes fluttered open, settling on Min Ho's gaze. Your faces remained merely a few centimeters apart, sharing the same breath before leaning once again.

This time, there was a certain kind of passion in the way your kiss felt. Your heart was pounding as your hands ran through Min Ho's well-kept hair. His lips left yours's and began a trail to your jawline, down to your neck.

A gasp escaped your lips as he began suckling on your skin. Quickly being able to identify your sweet spots. Your knees felt as if they were going to give out as he pulled your blouse down for more access. His lips felt like a heaven, you could only imagine how the rest of him was going to feel.

"Oh my-" you moaned as Min Ho worked his way around, leaving marks wherever possible.

"Yes?" he mumbled against your skin, watching how your thighs shifted against each other. "Tell me what you want," he said as he pulled away from your neck.

"You, I want you," you sighed as your chest rose and fell heavily.

Min Ho's hands drifted to the hem of your trousers, his fingers pulling the zipper down. You held breath as he pulled them down nice and slow.

“Is this, okay?” he questioned, his hand hovering over your clothed pussy. “Y/n?” He said as he looked up and into your eyes.

“Y-yes,” you nodded as he also pulled down your underwear, helping you take completely remove any clothing from your lower half.

Min Ho then stood up and led you around the kitchen and motioned for you to sit at one of the barstools. You wordlessly complied, getting comfortable in your seat just for Min Ho to pull you in. Both literally and mentally, you were on the edge of your seat.

He then placed himself between your legs, his face directly in front of your dripping cunt and your legs over his shoulder. Min began kissing your inner thighs, teasingly getting a bit closer every time.

“I wish I knew sooner how wet I get you,” he smirked before brushing his fingers against your fold. “How badly you wanted me,” he says, beginning to rub your clit gently.

In a repetitive circular motion, his finger worked your pussy. His eyes darkened with lust, watched as your chest rose and shuddered with every breath. Your head thrown back, but he could still hear you heavy breathing and soft moans.

He then pushed a finger through your fold and slowly. You gasped as you felt him slid into your pussy with ease. Min Ho chuckled due to the noises that escaped your lips, provoking him to insert a second finger.

Curving his finger slightly against your walls, your own hands were holding your position steady on the stool. Just then your phone rang, you and Min Ho both froze for a second.

“I think that might be Kitty,” you sighed as Min Ho pulled from you. “Hey,” you say after grabbing your phone and answering the call.

“How’s everything going?” She asks excitedly, unaware of the literal position you were in.

“Everything’s going just fine,” you reply as Min Ho pulled you away from the counter, guiding you to the couch. “What’s up Kitty?” you question.

“Well, I just wanted to know what the status was on the food,” she replied as you watched Min Ho take off his pants and boxers. “We are just setting up a couple more decorations,” she adds, while you both sat down.

It was difficult to focus on the call when the guy who just fingered was stripping down. His toned abs were where your attention was at. Your eyes noticeably widened and focused down south.

“Yeah, we’re a little behind but can definitely get things done in 20-30 minutes?” you guesstimated. “I sort of did forget a few things, so we ordered for them to be delivered,” you lied, Min Ho moving you into a laying down position and your legs in the air.

“Are you okay?” Kitty questioned with worry in her tone, “Your breathing is a little heavy,” she reasons while Min Ho took his position on top of you.

“I’m f-fine,” you tried to assure as he caressed the tip of cock against your folds. “Just a bit peckish,” you add.

“Well did you guys talk it out yet?” She asks, you could visualize the giddy smile on her face.

“Yeah, and you know-“ you began before the phone was taken out of your grasp.

“Now’s not a good time Covey,” Min Ho huffed, tossing his head back to remove his sweat gelled hair back. “I need Y/n-“ he blanked, “-For pot stirring.” He blabbered quickly before hanging up.

“Pot stirring?” You snorted as Min Ho placed your phone on the coffee table.

“What? Did you want me to tell her what were really up?” He asked with a brow lifted.

“No,” you replied, your face turning bright red.

“Better be quick,” he sighed, “Hope you can take it,” he smirked as he finally pushed his cock deep inside your cunt.

With one of your legs over his shoulder, Min Ho began slamming his hips against yours. A rush of cold air hit your chest as Min Ho lifted up your top along with your bra.

You were a moaning mess as Min Ho continuously drilled into your walls. Every thrust becoming rougher and quicker than the previous one.

“So bloody wet for me,” Min Ho smiled smugly, “You can’t even say anything back-too busy taking this dick?” He wondered before slowing down.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered almost incoherently, being able to lay still.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and you did as you were told. “I just wanna feel you come for me,” he grunted, shoving his cock back in your cunt.

Min ho propped you up against his chest. His hands greedily squeezing your tits. Your hands found their way reaching and gliding through his hair.

“You are so sexy,” Min Ho whispered in your ear. “Your pussy feels so good around me,” he says, placing kisses along your neck.

“Fuck,” you gasp, feeling a knot begin to form in your stomach.

“You’re close huh?” He muttered as you feel his hand trail down to your clit.

Min Ho started rubbing your clit and the blissful feeling that overcame you sent you into overdrive. You moans became increasingly pornographic as he hastened the speed of his hips.

“F-feels too good,” you slurred, “Min Ho-fuck it’s too good,” you said again.

“Well, I’m not gonna stop,” he murmured, looking down and watching your ass bounce on his dick. “Not til you cum,” he huffs.

“Stop,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing around his length, “Oh God,”

“Cum for me,” he said, the speed of his hand and his hips not wavering.

Your body shivered as a wave of ecstasy hit you, but Min Ho didn’t stop. This time, he bent you over and got his dick slamming into your sweet spot.

“Cum with me,” Min Ho huffed, his hands pulling you in repeatedly by the waste

“I c-can’t,” you whined, your vision becoming blurry.

“You pussy squeezing around my cock shows otherwise,” he moans, the clapping sound of your hips echoing through the dorm.

You felt like you were gonna pass out, everything felt too good. The way he kept fucking into you made you begin to shake.

“That’s it,” you hear Min Ho say, your cunt tightly entrapping his length again. “Don’t let me leave this pussy til you cum,”

As if on que, you came once more right as Min Ho pulled out and covered your back in his hot seed. You finally slumped onto the couch, eyes shut and breathing hot.

“I don’t think we’ll never not do that’s,” he chuckled, going to grab a towel.

Gently, Min Ho wiped you down and due to you lack leg function, he helped you put your clothes back on.

He also quickly threw a meal together, enough to cater for everyone meeting for Chuseok. You admired him from the couch, since he insisted you rest while he cooked.

Still shirtless, he prepared everything for the trek back to main campus. Since you were going to have to walk, Min Ho decided to carry everything.

“Where have you guys been?” Q questioned; everyone was already finding their seats.

“Busy whipping up a good meal,” Min Ho replied as he handed off the food to Kitty. “Sit with me?” He asked as he turned to you.

“Of course,” you smiled as you both went to sit with your group of friends.

When everyone was finally seated and Kitty gave a little speech, Min Ho held your hand. Looking over at him, he gave a cheeky grin.

“I’m glad to have spent it with you,” he smiled.

“So sappy,” you joked as Kitty sat across from you before eating the dinner on your plate.

“You guys look like you did more than talked,” she whispered, and your eyes widened.

“And what exactly did they do Ms. Covey?” Lee questioned between bites.

“Made-uh such a delicious meal,” Kitty said quickly. “Chuseok really brings people together,” she laughed forcefully.

“Right,” Professor Lee muttered.

JAN 2025

[cartierre]

NIGHTS LIKE THIS | ob3

❝ It's night like this when I need your love ❞

synopsis: and if only one night is meant for the two of us, is it worth falling in love for?

pairing: ollie bearman x fem!reader warnings: sweet, flirting, making out, angst, google translate italian word count: 4k

author's note: inspired by 'nights like this' by the kid laroi! there is a name drop towards the end but throughout the majority of the fic, reader's name is not mentioned.

The gym was packed with loud teenagers, all talking at a rapid speed trying to overcome the booming music that echoed through the big speakers. Everyone was dressed in gorgeous evening wear, most of the girls adorned glittery dresses while the boys stuck to traditional black suits. There was some finger food displayed on tables on the side, bowls filled with alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks quenching the students’ and teachers’ thirst. 

Ollie found himself misplaced among the Italian teenagers. He had only moved there a year ago and since he entered Formula Two, he barely attended any of his classes. He wasn’t even sure how exactly he had graduated, just that the heavy burden of getting good grades got lifted from his shoulders. 

At least one less thing he had to worry about.

His parents were long gone, only having stuck around for the official ceremony until they left him to “have fun with his fellow peers”. It’s ironic, he thought, since he didn’t even know most of their names.

The drink in his hand only had a few sips left, the prosecco leaving a bittersweet taste on his tongue. He felt a soft buzz from the alcohol, but ultimately decided against getting wasted with people he didn’t even fully understand. It was partially his fault, he never cared enough to pay attention in his Italian language class. 

“Che tragedia!” (How tragic!) He could hear his Italian teacher in the back of his mind. “Your Italian è terribile!” (Your Italian is terrible!)

Tugging at his tie around his neck, he feared he was close to suffocating from all the noise around him. Placing his drink on some of the tables splattered around the hall, he excused himself to no one in particular before sprinting up the stairs in the hallway leading up to the rooftop. He only found out about the spot a week ago, having got lost inside the school and accidentally ending up there.

The fresh air hit his face, though he immediately noticed that it wasn’t much cooler outside than inside. The Italian weather played against his plans, the sun not even fully set as it smiled against his cheeks.

Pulling his tie loose, Ollie still felt more relieved to have left the sticky gym. He felt stupid for not just going home with his parents, why did he decide to stay? It’s not like he had any friends to celebrate graduation with.

“Seems like I’m not the only one in need of escaping.” 

Only then did Ollie see a girl next to him. 

She leaned against the railing, a cigarette dangling between her manicured fingers. Her hair fell down her back, framing her face softly. She wore a black dress, way more simple than all the other girls he had seen, yet so elegant. He couldn’t help himself but glance at her breasts being pushed together by the dresses neckline. Ashamed, he quickly stopped analysing her.

“Cat got your tongue?” She smirked at him, raising her eyebrow as she took a drag of her cig. “Isn’t that what you English people say?”

“You know me?” He asked, perplexed that she knew about his nationality. Did he look that British?

“I’ve read about you.” She shrugged. “Wanted to know more about the futuro della formula uno, the future of formula one, that is supposedly my classmate.”

“I’m not even a Formula One driver.” Ollie corrected, though he felt the tip of his ears get hot from having such a beautiful girl call him the future of formula one. “And I’m even less of a classmate, probably.”

“Well, officially you are my classmate. Or were.” She smiled. “And once you’ll become a world champion I’ll brag about having been your classmate. Even if I’ve never seen you in person up until now.”

“Not sure about the world champion part, yet.” He shrugged, his hand gripping the railing as if he was about to fall. 

“Oh, he’s so humble.” The girl teased him, giving him a slight punch in the arm naggingly. “Well, the newspapers seem sure about it. You being champion material, or something like that.”

“The newspapers say a lot, whether it’s true or not.” He felt his cheek burn in embarrassment. Ollie wasn’t one to push his ego, he’d rather prove his worth on track than talk big without having anything to show for.

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes scanned over him, as if analysing him from top to bottom. He didn’t know what was going on in her head, but right now he wished he could read her mind. She took another drag of her cigarette, and even if Ollie despised the smell of tobacco, he somehow liked it when she smelled like it. 

Gosh, what was he thinking? He didn’t even know her, yet somehow he felt so serene next to her.

“Why do you think so little of yourself?” She settled to ask after a minute of observing. 

“I don’t.” He simply answered, though his voice was quivering, unsure of what he should’ve said.

“You’re a bad liar.” She chuckled. “Your posture says differently. You’re unsure of yourself and your abilities, but why?”

“I guess…” He cleared his throat, her intense analysis of him humbling him even more. “I guess I don’t want to put the same pressure and expectations everyone puts on me on myself as well.”

He turned to look at her, finally gathering enough courage to do so. Her head was tilted to the side, her lips wrapped around her cigarette to take one final puff before throwing it on the ground and stepping on it. 

“Wanna get out of here?” She asked instead of reacting to his words.

Ollie was taken aback by her request, admiring her boldness of asking straight away rather than talking around it. Without wanting to sound arrogant, Ollie was used to girls asking him for certain things. Sometimes, he loved the attention, especially right after a good race, but with her he felt shier than ever. 

So it surprised him when he answered confidently.

“Sí.” (Yes.)

With another smirk towards him, the girl clearly satisfied with his answer, the two of them sneaked back down again to escape the facility. He sucked in a breath of fear when he saw her grabbing a bottle of prosecco nonchalantly before exiting the school. Ollie was sure they’d get busted for stealing, however none of the teachers seemed to care much as none of them even batted an eye.

“They have enough of that stuff,” She said as she saw his face drenched in worry. “Don’t act like we’re stealing anything valuable. Also, I bet Ferrari has paid them enough to let you pass so think of it as a little gift.”

He had never encountered someone like her, Ollie realised as she popped the bottle the minute they stood outside. Taking a sip straight from the bottle, she let out a sigh. “They have the good one as well.”

Offering him a sip, she pulled out another Vogue cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “I don’t assume you smoke, but regardless, do you want one?” She said as she held out the pack in front of him.

Ollie hesitated a bit, but ultimately declined. He was sticking to the prosecco. 

“Figured.” She shrugged and shoved the pack back into her little purse. 

“So- uh- where to now?” He asked, taking another sip of the drink. He felt himself growing more nervous every minute he spent with her. 

She smiled, taking his hand boldly and running off into a certain direction. Ollie stumbled forward, not expecting her approach, but then took off behind her and followed her blindly. 

At that moment, he would’ve followed her anywhere.

Giggling uncontrollably, she kept turning her head around to him from time to time. Her hair was flowing behind her as if she was from another planet, somewhere where beauty lit up the night. Her beauty certainly lit up his night.

“Come on,” she slowed down, taking small breaths, her cheeks slightly shiny from the sweat. “It’s not far.”

“Where are you taking me?” Ollie’s face was flushed, his locs sticking to his forehead from all the running. The summer air was hitting his face and he felt warm under his suit jacket. 

“It’s a sorpresa!” She just said, opening her mouth slightly and nodding towards the prosecco in his hands. 

His brain malfunctioned for a second, then started acting without thinking. In a smooth motion, he poured some of the liquid into her mouth, accidentally spilling some. The alcohol ran down her chin, trailing down her chest and inbetween her breasts. 

Ollie felt hot, and this time it wasn’t just the summer heat.

She laughed after gulping down the sparkling wine, wiping her chin with her hand, careful not to smudge her lipstick. 

“Ehi!” (Hey!)

Ollie ducked down, as if he would dodge a bullet, from the sudden shrill voice coming from above. The girl kept laughing, ignoring the old woman screaming at the two from her little balcony. 

“Silenzio!” (Be quiet!) The old woman yelled at them again, raising her fist as if to curse them. “È tardi, idioti!” (It’s late, you idiots!)

“Non essere così duro!” (Don’t be so harsh!) The girl yelled back, still giggling. “Vivi un po', nonna!” (Live a little, grandma!) She stretched out her hands like a starfish, twirling around until she stumbled. 

Ollie was quick to wrap his hands around her waist, keeping her from falling to the ground. Only when she was gripping his biceps to steady herself, he realised how close he was to her. 

“Vai via da me!” (Go away from me!) The grandma kept yelling, Ollie not understanding anything the two were saying. “Voi due piccioncini...” (You two lovebirds...) She mumbled and shook her head, making her way inside her house again and leaving the two on their own.

“Arrivederci!” (Bye!) The girl giggled, waving the old lady goodbye as if she didn’t just curse at them.

“Now the last bit I got.” Ollie joked, stepping away from her again. He took a sip from the alcohol, feeling like that was the only source keeping him stable for now. 

“Look at you, little Italian.” She joked back, brushing her hand against his chest before reaching up and loosening his tie even more. She had to step on her toes to reach him, despite being in heels, then patted his chest when she was done. “Don’t want you to suffocate.” She whispered, giving him a flirty look before stepping away and nodding towards the end of the small alley they were in. “This way, follow me.”

When she turned his back to him, he threw his head back and prayed to whoever to help him get through without losing his mind, before following her yet again.

Eventually, and without any other disruptions, the two of them ended up outside a small pizzeria, which surprisingly was still open. There weren’t many people inside, just your local neighbours and a few drunks getting their snack. 

“Aahh!” The owner smiled as he saw the girl enter. “La mia piccola stella!” (My little star!)

“Zio Enzo!” (Uncle Enzo!) She greeted him, sharing their kisses on each cheek as accustomed in Italy. 

They continued talking in Italian, Ollie gathering one or two words here and there from his lessons, but not enough to properly follow their conversation. He realised his teacher would normally talk at a much slower pace, probably to help him understand each word clearly, though now it seemed of little help to him.

“... Formula…?” The owner looked at Ollie, eyeing him up and down. Ollie felt uncomfortable, not knowing what exactly they were talking about, and awkwardly smiled at him. He waved at the owner, not sure what else to do. 

“He’s your friend, no?” Finally, the owner switched to a language Ollie was able to understand. “Il tuo ragazzo?” (Your boyfriend?)

“No, no.” She shook her head, side eye-ing Ollie quickly to see if he had understood what Enzo had asked her. He didn’t seem so, as he stared cluelessly at her.

“Welcome, welcome!” He reached over the counter to greet the young boy, patting his cheek before stretching his arm out to his co-worker. “A pilota di Formula uno in my pizzeria! Francesco, can you believe it?”

“I’m not a Formula One-”

“Una pizza napoletana da asporto per favore.” (One Pizza Napoletana to go, please.) She interrupted him, smiling at the owner sweetly. 

“Ovviamente!” (Of course!) The owner smiled brightly at the two young people. “Pizza Napoletana to go, Francesco, did you hear that?” He turned back to the couple. “Ready in about fifteen minutes. You want something to drink?”

Ollie held up the half empty prosecco bottle, making the owner laugh out loud and nodding in encouragement before getting back to the other customers. 

“So, that’s your uncle's shop?” Ollie asked, trying to open a conversation while waiting for their pizza. 

“Oh no,” The girl shook her head, laughing a bit. “Everybody here calls Enzo their uncle. He’s been here forever, we all grew up eating his pizza.” 

“Oh.” Ollie’s face got hot in embarrassment. 

She laughed at him, slightly punching his arm when she noticed how red he got. “Is that a British thing?”

“What do you mean?” He was confused by her question.

“You get red all the time!” She exclaimed. “I look at you and you’re flushed. At first I was honoured to make you blush, but now I think you’re just like that constantly.”

He was like that constantly just because she was there. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a British thing.” He scratched his neck, his face hot again, lying to her face since he didn’t want to admit how flustered she makes him ever since they met.

“It’s a cute British thing.” She slightly pushed him, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t stop.”

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

“Pizza Napoletana for my little stella!” 

Taking the pizza carton, the two bid their goodbyes to Enzo before continuing their way down the small alleys. Along the way, Ollie felt her hand intertwining with his again. He didn’t protest.

“We’re here!” She yelled laughingly, letting go of his hand to run forward. “Come on!”

They found themselves at the beach, the small town behind them glittering in the water as the lights reflected on the surface. There were nearly no people on the beach, surprisingly, and Ollie had to hold back his laughter when he saw the girl getting rid of her shoes to feel the sand between her toes. 

“I love the beach.” She said when he came up to her, pizza in one hand and prosecco in the other. He placed both of it carefully on the ground before taking his jacket off, laying it down onto the sand to somewhat protect them from the sand. 

Sitting down, he realised just how close they were to fit into his jacket. Though he wouldn’t ever complain about it. Sharing the pizza, the two of them were silently enjoying the view and food, sharing a sip of prosecco every once in a while, emptying the bottle. 

It’s gotten late. More and more of the few people around them started packing up their stuff. Ollie’s phone had no more battery left, so he was unsure just what time it was. Looking to his right, he also didn’t care what time it was. 

The two were now laying on the beach, their heads sharing the space on Ollie’s suit jacket. Next to them was the empty pizza carton next to the prosecco bottle. They’d clean it up later. 

“... and that’s Andromeda, named after the Ethiopian princess saved by Perseus. She was chained to a rock, being sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus.” She pointed towards the sky, tracing the star constellation she just talked about. “You see?”

He couldn’t really decipher any of the constellations she pointed out to him, Ollie just liked listening to her talking about something she was passionate about. So he nodded, humming in agreement.

“You’re not paying attention!” She scolded him jokingly, shoving his shoulder with her own and giggling when she noticed how she ripped him out of his trance. 

“No, no, I was!” He tried to defend himself. 

“Really? Then where is Andromeda?” She raised her brow, her lips stretched into a smirk. 

Clearing his throat, Ollie turned his head to look at the stars again, randomly pointing at the bright points decorating the night sky. “See, right there.”

Laughing at his attempt, she just shook her head and took his hand into hers. Stretching his pointy-finger out, she helped him slowly trace the Andromeda constellation. “She’s right here, glowing beautifully above us.” She whispered, her eyes soaking up the beauty of the stars while his eyes were drowning in hers.

Slowly, her hands holding his traced each of his fingers. They went over his knuckles, following the lines on the palm of his hand before stopping on his wrist. None of them talked, enjoying the silence and the feel of each other's skin while the waves splashed softly in the background. 

She felt him staring at her from the side, finally turning to him and meeting his eyes. Their hands were still up in the air, though she dropped hers when he felt his hand coming down. He cupped her face gingerly. 

His thumb traced her cheekbone, just as her fingers used to trace his hand, until they stopped at her lips. Her lipstick had been long gone after they finished the pizza, though Ollie found himself enjoying her natural lips just as much as her painted ones. 

He softly swiped over her lips, feeling the shaky breath she let out on his thumb. He couldn’t stop staring at them, wondering what they’d feel like on his lips, what they’d taste like. 

What she would taste like.

“Now or never.” She whispered, making his eyes snap back at hers. 

He leaned over her, using his elbows and free hand to stabilise himself to not crush her with his weight. “Sì?”

“Sì, Oliver.”

Ollie groaned, his full name sounding so appealing when it came out of her lips, and suddenly he’s never felt so sure about something. 

He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. He was sure he'd never felt so many butterflies going around his stomach. He had goosebumps all over his body, his face flushed yet again and the nervosity fading away with every passing second.

His hand cupping her face moved to her hair, his fingers entangling with her hair and his body moving more and more on top of her. He felt her hands wandering up his back towards his neck, pulling him towards her. Her hands settled on his chest, her nails scratching over the fabric of his dressing shirt. 

His hand, previously holding him up which now his knees did, settled on her waist, tracing small circles over his dress. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, her back arching upwards and pressing against his chest.

Ollie felt himself going crazy when he felt her whimpering against his lips, his mind on autopilot as he kissed her down the neck, sucking on her pulsing point which had her moaning and panting. Her nails scratched against his scalp, the slight pain making him groan against her skin. 

“Ollie-” She gasped, throwing her head back as she felt one of his hands tracing the curve of her boob. “Oh Dio…” (Oh God…)

Hearing his name, Ollie snapped out of his trance. Breathing heavily, he pulled away from her slightly to calm down for a second. “Fuck…”

Her taste lingered on his lips, the feeling of kissing her consuming his whole. He knew they needed to stop before things got out of hand, he figured she realised that exact thought as he looked into her eyes. 

Ollie rolled over, leaving the space on top of her and settling down next to her.

There was silence between them, the sound of the waves mixing with their heavy breathing. Suddenly, she started giggling beside him. Not knowing why, Ollie felt the urge to just join her. 

Both giggling, neither of them sure why, and yet the two of them understood each other.

She sat up, looking down at him sideways. “I think it’s time to go.”

Ollie wasn’t sure if she knew how crushing her words were. He wanted to freeze this moment, freeze this moment with her. If it was up to him, he’d never leave this night. 

But it wasn’t up to him, so he stood up and helped her do the same. Dusting the sand off of themselves, Ollie grabbed his suit jacket and shook it before placing it on her shoulders. She smiled at him, and he was sure her eyes sparkled as much as the sky above them. 

They disposed of the carton and bottle in a trash can in front of the beach. The alleys ahead of them were completely empty and Ollie was sure it must’ve been the early hours of the day by now. 

Neither of them shared many words on their way home. He was dreading the moment they separated, and feared making conversation would only speed up the time until then. So he settled for just holding her hand, and she settled for clinging onto his arm. 

But talking or not, eventually they reached the hotel Ollie was staying in. 

“I guess this is it.” She entangled herself from his grip. “Pilota di Formula uno.” (Formula One driver.)

“Doesn’t have to.” He whispered, his eyes searching the depths of hers. “England isn’t that far away, you know. And there are races here in Italy.”

She just smiled at him. “Don’t forget about me when you’re on top.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget about you.” He breathed out.

“Forever is a pretty long time.”

“Not long enough.”

She chuckled at his response, shaking her head. “You’ve gotten a lot bolder ever since the beginning of the night.”

“Learned from the best.” He winked at her, making her laugh out loud. He felt himself grow prideful, he made her laugh again. Oh how he loved her laugh.

“Yeah, your future girlfriend can write me a thank you postcard from England.” She teased, though her joke fell on deaf ears. He didn’t laugh. 

Awkwardly, she looked at her feet. Now she felt herself grow hot within her.

“I don’t even know your name.” Ollie realised out of the blue. 

She looked up at him, now grinning again and feeling relieved at the topic change. “You didn’t figure it out?”

“Figure out what?” He asked cluelessly. 

The girl outstretched her hand. “I’m Andromeda.”

Playing along, he took her hand, slightly bent down and softly kissed the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you, Andromeda.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She chuckled at his antics, lightly bowing back at him. They both laughed at their situation.

“Drive safe, Oliver.” She smiled sadly at him, both of them knowing it was now finally the time to say goodbye. “And if you ever find yourself back here, maybe stop by Zio Enzo’s pizzeria, alright? Maybe you’ll find me there.”

“I’ll be looking for you.” He breathed out before taking one final step towards her.

Cupping her face again, he pressed a lingering kiss against her lips, cherishing this moment one more time. She melted into him instantly, her hand falling flat against his chest. 

Parting, they breathed each other’s air. His thumb traced her lips again, his rough skin tasting salty against her tongue. He looked deeply into her eyes, memorising their sparkle just like the star constellation she was named after.

“Addio mia stella.” (Goodbye, my star.)

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Start of Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, panic attack, almost fainting, fluff at the end

Summary: Hotch is the only parent you have left, so you’re a bit overprotective of him. When he comes up with a plan to stop an unsub, you’re the only one who’s not on board.

Square Filled: fainting for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: this fic is based on the song "Start of Time" by Gabrielle Aplin. I also pulled inspiration from that scene in Teen Wolf where Lydia kissed Stiles for the first time since he was having a panic attack. You all know the scene.

x

“You’re kidding, right?” You look at Rossi. “Is he kidding? Did I hear him right?”

“No, you heard it right,” Hotch sighs.

“No, you’re not going to do that. End of discussion. You’re not going to put your life on the line for some psychopath.”

“You have no authority over me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

You slam your hands on the table and leave the briefing room to calm yourself down. Spencer watches you leave with a frown, itching to go after you to comfort you.

“Y/N!” Hotch calls after you, but you ignore him.

“I’ll go after her,” Spencer says and leaves the briefing room.

Hotch looks at Rossi who just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. You said it was fine to have your daughter on the team.”

You’d normally not go after Hotch’s throat like that but he’s the only parent you have left since your mother died a few years ago. Anything that puts his life on the line, you immediately object to. He understands you’re looking out for him but he has a job to do. You knew this when you signed up to be in the FBI academy.

You walk into the bathroom and turn the faucet on to splash some water on your face. The thought of your dad going in to face off against a psychopath and dying makes your heart race and sweat build up on your neck. You look around the empty bathroom and squeeze your eyes shut tightly to ward off the panic attack.

The door opens and Spencer walks in without a word. He immediately pulls you into a hug that slows your racing heart. He calms you down before the panic attack can get too far, and you hug Spencer back. He rubs your back and sighs knowing all you’re ever going to see him as is a friend. He likes you a lot but you haven’t given him any indication that you like him back, so he’s kept his feelings for you a secret. The last thing he’s going to do is tell you how he feels, especially not now when all you’re worried about is your dad.

“Sorry,” you whisper and pull away from him.

“Don’t ever be sorry.”

“You have to help me, Spencer. He wants to go inside that bank alone. Make him change his mind.”

“Y/N…”

“Patrick is one of the worst unsubs we’ve ever dealt with. He kills for fun, for sport. If my dad goes in there alone, he’ll kill him. He’s my only family, Spencer. Make him change his mind.”

“I know.” Spencer sighs. “I can’t promise anything but there might be another way to get to Patrick.”

Patrick has the same tragic backstory as all the other unsubs, and he’s hellbent on making humanity suffer for what he went through. He has so much anger for humans that he’s taking out anyone and everyone. He went to rob a bank to fund his trip across the pond, and he’s taken the entire bank hostage. The only reason he hasn’t killed them all is because they might be the key to getting him out of there alive.

Your job is to get the hostages out safely before SWAT can move in on Patrick. Hotch wants to go in and negotiate with Patrick into letting the hostages go, but you can’t fathom the idea of him going in there with someone like Patrick. SWAT and local police already have the streets blocked off to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.

“Garcia, were you able to get the blueprints of the bank?” Hotch asks when the team arrives.

“Yes, and because there are the sewers below it, I also got the layout for that as well. It might be your only way into the bank.”

She lays out the blueprints on the hood of the police car and Derek traces the pipes from the bank to a manhole cover that’s a block away with his finger.

“We can get into the bank through here. Looks like there is a gate blocking the way in, so we’ll have to break it. We’ll need someone on the inside to distract him so he doesn’t hear us.”

“Alright, Morgan, take Prentiss and three officers with you through the sewers. Wait for my word.”

They leave immediately, and Spencer looks at you in worry.

“Who is going to go inside and distract?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch answers.

He and Rossi step off to the side, and you look at the bank in concern.

“It’s going to be okay,” Spencer comforts you.

“I hope so. Sometimes I wonder if it was right for me to take this job.”

“What do you mean?”

“After my mom died, my dad got overprotective of me. He kept warning me of the dangers of this world. I wanted to help people like him, and the academy seemed like the right thing to do. My dad is the Unit Chief of the BAU. That had some pull in the academy. I was looking at a job upstate as an officer, but then a spot opened on the team. I wanted to be closer to my dad so I took the job. Now, I see the horrors of this job and every opportunity to lose him. He’s the best dad I could ask for. I don’t think I could bear losing him to someone like Patrick.”

Spencer pulls you in for a hug and rubs your back.

“That won’t happen.”

You look at the bank once more and your face is twisted in horror. Your dad is walking toward the bank’s front doors… alone.

“Dad!” You push Spencer away and start to run toward him. However, arms wrap around your waist to prevent you from following him. “No, let me go! Dad! Dad, please don’t go!”

Your dad disappears inside the bank, and you break down in tears. Rossi keeps his arms around you until he knows you’re not going to run after him. You step back from Rossi as a panic attack hits you in the face. Suddenly, you can’t breathe and your heart is beating too fast for you to keep up with.

“You need to calm down, Y/N,” Spencer says.

“I… can’t… I… Da…”

Hot tears are running down your cheeks, and you start hyperventilating at the thought of your dad dying right now. You're gonna faint.

“Kid, get her to calm down,” Rossi says.

Spencer doesn’t think twice about this. He grabs you and plants his lips over yours. Your eyes widen in shock but you close them once you feel how natural it is to kiss Spencer. Your heart rate slows down, your head becomes clear, and you relax against Spencer’s body. He pulls away from you but stays close enough so that the only thing you see is him.

His honey-brown eyes are warm and comforting, and his lips are soft and swollen from the kiss. Suddenly, you hear gunshots go off inside the bank, and that breaks you out of your trance. You push Spencer away from you and book it toward the bank without a second thought. This time, no one holds you back.

The hostages are in the corner with the three officers, Patrick is lying on the ground bleeding from a gunshot wound on his shoulder, and all three BAU agents are standing above him with their guns on him. Most importantly, your dad is alive and well. You immediately run over to your dad and hug him, thankful that he survived this.

“I was always going to be fine, Y/N.”

“I thought I lost you,” you cry.

“I’m right here.”

Patrick is arrested, the hostages are saved, and no one got hurt. Now that you’re back at the BAU, you have time to think about what Spencer did to you. Spencer is at his desk finishing some paperwork when you approach him from behind.

“Hey, Spencer.”

He turns around and smiles when he sees you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good now. Thank you for…”

You can’t finish your sentence but Spencer knows what you’re saying.

“Yeah, anytime,” he nods.

“You kissed me.”

“I know. I was there.”

“There are other ways to stop a panic attack. Why did you kiss me?”

“I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so when I kissed you, you held your breath.”

“I did?” you whisper.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Was that the only reason you kissed me?”

Spencer opens his mouth to answer but decides against what he really wants to say. “Yes.”

Your face falls in disappointment but you bounce back quickly in hopes he didn’t see it.

“Oh, well, thank you.”

You pass by him to walk away when he grabs your hand. He sees the disappointment, and he takes that as his sign. He stands and pulls you closer to him, and you look into his eyes hopefully.

“That wasn’t the only reason. I like you a lot.”

You smile. “Well, I like you a lot.”

“I know this Indian place with really good food. Want to get dinner with me?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Hotch stands by his window and watches everyone work. He sees you and Spencer by his desk, and he definitely sees the smile on your face. Spencer grabs your hand and leaves with you, and Hotch smiles. Spencer is a good guy, and you’d do well with someone like him.

x

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[neverthebabysitter]

Thinking about that prompt i found on TikTok about faking your death and then coming back and knocking on your best friend's door like nothing happened.

That but make Steve fake his own death accidentally, so he is clueless why Robin is freaking out when he goes to visit her.

(with a side of Steve going feral a la Jonh Wick and Die Hard over his car, i'm so normal about this, so normal, it's not like i use this like an oportunity to make a b99 reference, pff, Gertie who??? )

Like, i know nothing about witness protection and how faking your death would work, but, but- let's use our imagination.

Steve's father being a lawyer and messing with someone he shouldn't have. He ends up dead and because of this, the cops think they could go after Steve too.

Which, true, Steve has an accident that destroys his car (RIP BMW, I love you, but this is for plot reasons, you would be missed), so now he has to be under witness protection.

Steve, like the ball of repressed trauma and anger issues that he is, decides that the best thing to do is go after the people who destroyed his car, a la John Wick; because:

Going after them to avenge his father: no, thank you.

Going after them to avenge his car: yes, let me go for my bat.

That without forgetting to leave a cryptic message to Eddie's and Robin's voicemail.

While Steve is having his own action movie with handling the 'mob' and cops that kinda want to help, kinda don't care; the rest of the Party is freaking out because "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO ONE INVITED HIM TO SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH SOMEONE AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN HIS CAR WAS FOUND IN THE QUARRY???".

Dustin asks Robin if something happened with Steve during christmas, like kissing under the mistletoe or something, only for Robin to say she didn't invite him because Eddie did, but Eddie hears that and goes, "Uh, no? I chicken out; I thought you would invite him after I didn't."

They asking around if someone invited Steve because it's kind of public knowledge that his parents suck, but no one did, and he hasn't come to the Party's Christmas party yet, so he's probably mad at them.

But Eddie and Robin are having a Bad Feeling™ because of the voicemails, and Hopper is being called to identify a car that it was found in the quarry that morning.

And Hopper knows that car, he has seen that car since Steve was a dumb teenager that got his parties busted by the chief. He hasn't seen Steve for a while. He wasn't at the christmas party. Where was he again?

The Party still isn't in the know, but Hopper is already looking for Steve but he can't find him and-

Remember that i told you Steve was in witness protection? Well, i think sometimes they fake their deaths, i'm not sure, but this is the perfect oportunity and cover to pretend that Steve died.

So the government uses it, and The Party doesn't know because different branch of the government and all that.

When Hopper founds out he doesn't know how to tell the other that Steve had an accident and they are still looking for him in the quarry; but they already know, they used Dustin's cerebro to find out what was going on.

Everyone is devastaded, and then, Eddie and Robin hear their voicemail again only to bring out that maybe it wasn't an accident, that maybe Steve did it on porpose.

And grief, pain, mourning, sadness, anger. Just a lot of feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve is kicking ass and using the Bad Guys™ headquarters like his own personal rage room.

Blablabla something something something.

Steve let out his anger, has a few personal realisations, lets himself think about the trauma he's endured all those years and comes back like a new person, ready to confess his feelings for Eddie Munson and let people care about him.

The first thing is go talk with Robin, she's probably worried about him and she probably knows better than him to help him confess to Eddie.

So he goes, only to be utterly confuse by the amount of tears, snot, yells and hugs that Robin welcomes him. It's not like he died.

Then Robin is flabbergasted by his Audacity.

Both of them fall into a bickering that makes Robin cry harder because she thought she wouldn't have this again and Steve starts to cry because Robin is crying and now they're both crying.

Needless to say, they catch up about all the things that happened in both ends.

It's not the end of tears, hugs and yelling, though.

Just give Steve all the confort that he refused to accept because he didn't think he deserved and that people didn't know how to give.

Fluff, Fluffy, Fluff. A bit of Steddie here.

Yeah, that's all.

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 5 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+ -mdni, jealousy, alcohol, smut, explicit language, somnophilia, choking, angst w/ comfort,

wc. 6k

a/n. this took me forever

4, 5, 6,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

Ghost had mentioned bringing his team along for your birthday. You and your friends had planned a night out clubbing, and you figured it was only fair to let him invite his mates—no sense in leaving him stuck with a crowd of twenty-somethings all night on his own.

You and John had been texting and meeting up a few more times since that first night. Each encounter carried the same charged secrecy—you kept your mask on, and he played along, pretending he didn’t know exactly who you were.

John feels the weight of guilt every time he interacts with Ghost, especially now that they’re back at base. He can barely look Simon in the eyes anymore, the guilt weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. He knows he’s betraying his friend, and he hates himself for it. But he can’t bring himself to stop seeing you. He’s addicted to you, to the sound of your voice, the feel of your body pressed against his…

John keeps telling himself he’ll end it, that it’s the right thing to do—but he can’t. He’s wanted you for too long. He spent months watching your cam streams, craving what he couldn’t have, and now that you’re his—truly his—he refuses to let go. Especially when you meet up, when the heat of passion fades, and you curl up in his arms afterward. You slip off your mask, resting your head against his chest, trusting him with one condition: he can hold you, but only if he promises not to look. And he never does—he wouldn’t dare break the fragile trust between you.

But the guilt gnaws at him. Every time John sees Ghost, he’s reminded of his betrayal. He’s been keeping this secret from his best mate, lying right to his face. And he knows that someday, this whole thing is going to explode in the worst possible way.

One day on base, as the team was gathered around after a long mission, Ghost cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

“Right, listen up,” he began, his voice steady but with a hint of annoyance. “My sister’s birthday is coming up, and she’s dragging me to a club. You lot can come if you want, I’m not about to spend the night stuck with a bunch of half-naked 20-year-olds who can barely hold their liquor.”

A few of the team members exchanged amused glances. Soap raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sounds like you need some backup, mate,” he teased.

Ghost shot him a flat look, though there was a slight curve to his lips. “Exactly. Don’t want to be the only old man there with no one to talk to, do I?”

Price leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s the plan? We just show up and blend in?”

“Pretty much,” Ghost said with a shrug. “It’s not my ideal night, but it’s for her, so…”

“Hey, if you’re buying, I’m in,” Gaz said, leaning forward with a grin.

Soap snorted. “Buyin’? Please, Ghost probably still thinks a pint costs a fiver.” Ghost shoots him a glare.

John was torn. On one hand, the idea of seeing you gnawed at him—he missed those stolen moments, the secrecy, and the way you felt when you were close. But there was a problem: you still didn’t know that he knew exactly who you were. You kept your distance, acting like he was just some stranger to you, and it killed him.

On the other hand, the thought of being in the same place as you and Ghost, all three of you in close proximity, felt like a ticking time bomb. The guilt, the risk—it was too much. But if he didn’t show up to the club, it would look suspicious. He couldn’t afford that.

Ghost’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “You coming, Price?”

Price glanced up, meeting Ghost’s gaze. For a moment, he pondered saying no, finding an excuse to skip out. But he knew that would only arouse suspicion. And so he sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come.”

The night of, Price stood in front of the mirror in his room, feeling nervous as he checked his outfit one last time. He tried on a couple different shirts before finally settling on a dark grey button-up and a pair of black jeans. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at his reflection. For some reason, he felt a strange mixture of anxious and excited. Maybe it was the thought of seeing you or the nerves about pretending he didn’t know who you were. Either way, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

John stood at the bar with the team, his drink in hand, but his mind was elsewhere. Soap and Gaz were already in the thick of it, eyeing passing girls with shameless grins, their attempts at flirting fluctuating between mildly charming and painfully awkward.

Soap, always the loud one, had just cracked a joke that made a girl giggle-though John couldn't tell if it was from genuine interest or sheer pity. Gaz wasn't much better, leaning in with a smirk, dropping some line that sounded more rehearsed than spontaneous. John nursed a beer, his attention only half-heartedly on the women around him.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Soap called out to Ghost.

Ghost took a swig of his drink before replying, “She’s always late, wouldn’t be like her if she was on time”. He rolled his eyes but there was a hint of affection in his voice.

A group of girls entered the bar, their laughter ringing out and instantly grabbing the attention of everyone nearby. They wore the skimpiest of dresses, skirts, and shirts—everything designed to make heads turn, and turn they did. Wolf whistles followed them as they made their way through the crowd, including from Soap and Gaz, who were both quick to take notice.

Price couldn’t help but look too, his gaze almost drawn to them instinctively. But then, his eyes locked onto you. His heart skipped a beat, suddenly lodged somewhere in his throat. His grip around his beer tightened, knuckles whitening as he processed the sight before him.

You were standing there, a vision in the crowd. Your outfit hit him like a punch to the gut—like you’d intentionally gone out and found the tiniest pink skirt, slashed it in half, then paired it with a matching corset top that left little to the imagination. Your white patterned stockings and pink heels completed the look, and Price’s stomach twisted with something he couldn’t quite name. His mind raced, trying to pull himself together. It felt like everything in the room had faded away, and all that mattered was the sight of you—so close, so real. And yet, still so far out of reach.

You pranced up to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug before quickly greeting the rest of his team with a few more hugs. When it was John’s turn, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The moment your arms encircled him, John froze. Every instinct in him screamed to hold you closer, to pull you tight against him, to inhale your scent that lingered on his skin. But he forced himself to stay still, his body rigid as he struggled to keep his composure. His mind raced, trying to focus on anything other than the heat of your body against his.

“Uh—Happy birthday, kid,” he managed, his voice tight, strained as he patted your back awkwardly. He kept his eyes averted, though they betrayed him, roaming over you, taking in every detail of your outfit. His heart hammered in his chest as his mind locked on how little you were wearing. The fabric of your skirt, the curve of your corset top, it all felt like too much—too much for him to handle in this moment. But you, blissfully unaware of his internal battle, pulled back with a smile, completely oblivious to the storm you’d just stirred inside him.

You smile sweetly, batting your lashes up at him in that innocent way you always did, the one that made his stomach twist with something he couldn’t name. “Thank you,” you say, your voice light and playful, unaware of the effect it’s having on him.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach the instant his arms wrapped around you, his warmth seeping into you and making your pulse quicken. The scent of him, so familiar and comforting, only heightened the rush of emotions flooding your senses. You couldn't stop your mind from drifting to the other night-the way his hands had explored your body with such deliberate confidence, every touch igniting something deep inside you.

The memory sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as you unconsciously leaned into his embrace, unable to resist the pull he had over you. He desperately wanted to hold you tighter, to pull you even closer, but he couldn't. Not here, not with Ghost right there, oblivious to the fact that his best friend was secretly sleeping with his younger sister.

Instead, he pulled away reluctantly, forcing a smile onto his face. “You, uh…you look nice,” he murmured. But the words felt hollow in his mouth, inadequate to describe just how beautiful you looked.

You smile softly, your cheeks warming as you thank him sweetly when he says you look nice. He seems so different than usual—nervous and cautious, a far cry from the commanding presence he has with you in private. It’s almost endearing, seeing this side of him, though you can’t blame him. He doesn’t know it’s you he’s been with, the person he’s been pouring his desires into. To him, you’re just another stranger, someone he feels freer with than someone from his real life.

Later in the night, after several rounds of drinks and conversations, your friend group led you to the dance floor, the music loud and vibrant. You and your friends all danced together, laughing and twirling in the rhythm. As the music vibrated through the floor, Price leaned against the wall, half hidden in the shadows, watching you dance with the others, a pang of desire and guilt twisting his stomach.

The music pounded through the walls of the club, the lights illuminating you in a kaleidoscope of colors as you danced with your friends. Price couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching closely as you swayed your hips in time with the music, your movements fluid and captivating. He could feel the desire welling up inside him, his heart hammering against his chest, but he forced himself to stay put. He was playing a dangerous game, and he couldn’t let anyone find out.

He watched as your friends pulled you further into the fray, each of them laughing and smiling, completely unaware of the tension he was feeling. Despite the noise and the chaos, he could only focus on you, the way your body moved, the way your hair fell across your face, the way your skirt rode up slightly as you twisted and turned. His hands ached to touch you, to pull you to him and feel your body pressed against his.

Price tensed as he saw a man approaching you, his eyes narrowing as he observed him. The man looked closer to your age, but still older than you, and the way he looked at you made Price’s stomach churn. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool while his mind raced with thoughts of what this stranger could possibly want with you.

As he watched, the man leaned in and yelled something into your ear, trying to be heard over the music. You responded with a wide smile, nodding at whatever he said, and the sight sent a wave of jealousy through Price. His hands curled into fists, his possessive tendencies taking over as he watched the two of you talk.

The man then reached out and placed his hand on your hip, pulling you a little closer to him as he continued talking into your ear. Price’s jaw was in danger of snapping with how hard he was clenching it. He wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip that man’s hand off of you. But he couldn’t.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in the back of your mind. The man beside you was all smiles, clearly enjoying the moment as you danced and flirted with him, but something nagged at you. You knew it wasn’t right—flirting with someone else when your thoughts were still tangled with John. But then, you reminded yourself: John doesn’t know the cam girl he’s been so captivated by is you. It felt like a small comfort, a boundary you could convince yourself to cross just this once.

It wasn’t like you could openly flirt with your older brother’s captain—especially not in front of him. That was a line you wouldn’t dare cross. Tonight was yours, though. It was your birthday, and you decided you were entitled to a little fun, a little freedom from all the complicated emotions and secrets you were carrying. You pushed the nagging thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the present. The lights, the music, the laughter—it was all a release. For tonight, you could let go.

Price couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Every move you made, every laugh you shared with that man, felt like a knife twisted in his gut. He had no claim on you, he knew that, but the sight of you with another man still sent a surge of jealousy and possessiveness through him.

He took another deep breath, trying to control his breathing, trying to control his emotions. But his mind was filled with thoughts of you and him, the way your body fit against his, the way you cried out for him.

As the night drew to a close, the man next to you, the one who had been flirting with you all night, finally gathered the courage to ask for your number. He leaned in close, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol, as he shouted over the music, “Can I get your number? I really want to see you again.”

Price observed as you giggled, the sound hitting his ears like a physical blow. He felt his heart sink as you reached into your small purse and scribbled your number on a napkin before handing it to the man. He couldn’t stand it, the sight of you giving your number to someone else, not after everything you’d shared together. He had no right to stop you, no right to say anything, but it didn’t make the sight any less painful.

It’s late, past 1am, and you’re sound asleep, wrapped in the comfort of your blankets. Suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you awake. Groggy and disoriented, you fumble for your phone, only to see a number you don’t recognize displayed on the screen. Your heart skips a beat as you answer the call.

“..Hello?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

He grits his teeth, the surge of anger coursing through him, and forces himself to breathe deeply. His fingers curl into fists, but he knows he has to control it—he can’t let you see how badly this is eating at him. You don’t know that he knows who you are, and that’s what he keeps telling himself as the fury swells inside him. He tries to steady his pulse, focusing on the need to stay composed, to not give away how badly he wants to confront everything that’s been eating at him.

The temptation to ask you directly what the hell is going on, to demand answers, is almost unbearable. But he doesn’t. Instead, his voice comes out calm, controlled, though every muscle in his body is tense with the desire to let his anger out.

“Do you want to meet up tonight?” His words feel like they hang in the air between you, and he watches for your response, trying to push past the storm inside him, desperate for some kind of answer.

“Okay” your rub the sleep out of your eyes “I’ll leave the front door unlocked”

His breath hitches slightly at your words, and for a moment, he almost regrets it. But then he reminds himself that this is the only way forward. He needs to see you, to feel that pull again, even if it’s tangled with complications he hasn’t fully worked through yet. “Good,” he mutters, his voice a little rougher than he intends. “I’ll be there soon.”

The call ends abruptly, and as you sit there, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes, the weight of what’s about to happen starts to settle in. You don’t even acknowledge the fact of how he could’ve gotten your number. You know it’s dangerous, know it’s a risk, but your body hums with anticipation. He’s coming. And whatever this thing between you is, it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated. You sit up brushing your hair down, your tie your mask on before sitting on your bed, you then lay down planning on just waiting for John but you promptly fall back asleep.

When John arrives at your house, the night air is cool against his skin, but the anticipation burning in his chest keeps him warm. He stands for a moment at your door, fingers hovering just above the handle. His mind races—thoughts swirling between desire and the heavy weight of the situation. He has no idea how this will go, but he’s already too far gone to turn back now.

He enters silently, closing the door behind him and stepping carefully into the darkened house. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He can see the soft glow of your bedside lamp peeking through the crack in your door.

He creeps toward your bedroom, finding you curled up in bed, your soft breaths steady and slow. The sight of you, peaceful and unaware of his presence, gives him pause. He watches you for a moment, unsure if he should wake you or just let you sleep. His heart aches at the thought of interrupting your rest, but his body aches with need, the tension in his muscles undeniable.

Gently, he steps closer to the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing the outline of your body beneath the covers. He swallows hard, trying to calm the growing fire inside him. He silently climbs onto the bed between your legs, your sleepy whimpers making his cock harden instantly. “My little girl thinks she can flirt with others and still keep her mask on with me? Not fucking happening." He enters your wet pussy slowly, knowing you’ll wake up to his invasion, without your mask on.

"I saw you, little girl. Flirting with that man like you were some kind of whore." He fucks you harder, his hands gripping your hips painfully. "You're mine, and only mine. No one else gets to see that face or hear those sweet moans." his hands move to your mask, yanking it off without hesitation this time. “I’m done with this fucking mask. I want to see every expression on your face while I fuck you senseless."

"Mmph..." You stir softly, your body automatically arching back as his slow, deep thrusts send waves of pleasure through your sleepy body. You’re large doe eyes flutter open, taking a second to realize what's happening. "Mmh... " he pulls your legs up high onto his shoulders, deepening his thrusts and forcing you to look at him as he stares intensely into you unmasked face. "Who's bed is this? Who's arms are you supposed to be sleeping in?" His voice is low, almost a growl, pulling you from the haze of sleep.

You blink slowly, still groggy, his words swirling in your mind as you try to piece them together. “…Yours,” you mumble softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stir awake, the warmth of his presence settling over you. He continues rhythmically thrusting, pulling you closer and covering your mouth with his own, one hand firmly holding the back of your neck to keep you in place. “Mmph..." The kiss deepens, passionate and claiming - not allowing you to speak or register that your mask is gone.

He hooks your legs around his waist, changing the angle. His thick length hits you deep spots, making you moan softly and arch your back. "Baby..." He pulls back an inch to look at you again. Your lips are swollen from his kiss, your eyes half-lidded with sleep and pleasure. He slides a hand down to your side, possessively grabbing one of your thighs. He Spreads your legs wider, watching himself slide in and out of your tight heat. He's unconsciously addicted to the view.

"You're so fucking tight and wet for me, baby girl." He growls, his voice low and husky as he increases Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming. his pace. His hand on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your soft skin. “I could stay buried in this little pussy all day."

"You know what I love most?" He asks in a hushed whisper, slowing his hips again to tease you. “Watching your face when I hit this sweet spot just right." He purposely angles himself to rub against your G-spot, making you whimper softly. “But fuck..."

His mind flashes back to earlier that night, seeing you laughing and smiling at that man. He can feel his anger building, his body tensing as he remembers. He pulls out slightly, his hands gripping your thighs painfully. “But you know what i didn’t love?” he wraps his hand around your throat. “Seeing you prance around with that man” he squeezes

"You think you can just flirt with other men and ignore me? You think you can wear a mask and pretend to be mine, but then go out there and act like a fucking whore?" He spits out the words, his voice cold and angry as he pushes your legs wider apart. His eyes darken dangerously as one hand wraps around your throat, applying gentle pressure. He continues thrusting roughly, using his superior strength to hold you down. “You want another man's cock that badly?" He growls, tightening his grip slightly more. “Fucking answer me."

His hand on your throat squeezes just a bit more, cutting off your airflow completely. You can only manage a weak, muffled "n-no" before he finally releases his grip, allowing you to gasp for air. “Good” He hisses, resuming his rough fucking.

Your mind spins, wild and frantic, as his words tear through the air between you. The sharp edge of his tone cuts deep, each syllable laced with anger, jealousy, and something far more possessive than you'd ever anticipated. "You think I didn't know?" he growls, his hips snapping forward with a force that leaves you gasping. "Think I wouldn't recognize you, even with that little mask on? I've always known, Angel."

The weight of his confession crashes over you, leaving you breathless and disoriented. He's always known. Every time he spoke your name in that low, commanding tone, every filthy word he growled through the screen— he knew it was you. The realization sends a flood of heat through your body, but it's quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his thrusts, each one driving his frustration and jealousy into you. “And tonight," he continues, his voice rough and unforgiving, "you really thought l'd stand there and watch you let another man put his hands on you? Let him look at you like he had a chance?"

"I didn't-" you try to explain, your voice shaky, but he cuts you off with another harsh thrust, his grip on your hips bruising as he holds you in place beneath him.

"Don't lie to me," he snaps, his dark eyes boring into yours as he leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you, Angel. Saw you dancing, letting him get close to what's mine." His words hit you like a physical blow, a dizzying mix of shame and arousal surging through your veins. You can feel his anger in the way he moves, in the unrelenting pace of his thrusts, as though he's determined to erase the memory of anyone else from your mind and body.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, "and don't you dare forget it." His hand slides up to your throat, his grip firm but controlled as he forces you to look at him. The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, a storm of emotions that leaves you speechless.

"I've been patient," he says, his tone rough and filled with barely restrained fury. "I let you keep your little secret, let you play your games. But now?" He thrusts into you harder, pulling a broken gasp from your lips. "Now, you don't get to pretend anymore. I know exactly who you are, and you're not going anywhere."

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, your body trembling as you struggle to process everything. He's always known, and yet he let you believe you were in control, let you think you were safe behind your mask. But now, there's no hiding, no escaping the truth-or him. “Say it," he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your pulse race. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whisper, your voice barely audible as his dominance consumes you completely. "Good," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear as his pace quickens. "Because I'm going to make damn sure you never forget it again." He feels a savage satisfaction at your whispered acknowledgment, his grip loosening slightly on your throat as he continues his brutal pace. Each forceful thrust is a stake driven into the earth, claiming you utterly. “That's right, Angel. You belong to me. Every fucking inch of you."

His anger still simmers just beneath the surface, His hand releases your throat, moving to caress your cheek “Weeks, Angel. Weeks of wearing that damn mask, keeping your face from me. But you had no problem flashing those pouty lips and batting your eyelashes at that stranger, did you?"

“Im sorry daddy-“

His expression darkens at the apology, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. “Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it, Angel. You thought you could play me for a fool, hide behind a mask and flirt with other men right in front of me."

“I didn’t mean it..”

He cuts you off with a harsh laugh, his free hand reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "You didn't mean it? You didn't mean to make me jealous, to make me watch you give attention to someone else?"

With a sudden, powerful movement, he flips them over so that you’re now on top, straddling his hips. He sits up, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you down onto his length with a forceful thrust. "But you know what, Angel?" He smirks wickedly, his hands sliding up your sides to momentarily rest just beneath your breasts. "Maybe I ought to flirt with some women my own age, hm? Show you what it feels like to watch someone else get attention." He leans back slightly, looking up at you with mock consideration.

He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through your body as he keeps his relentless rhythm, each thrust leaving you breathless.

The amusement in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, though it's laced with something darker, something possessive.

"Just imagine it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he arches an eyebrow, his pace never faltering.

"Me, charming some gorgeous, mature woman right in front of these pretty eyes. Someone who'd appreciate a real man— someone who doesn't need games or masks." His words cut through the haze of pleasure and guilt, his deliberate taunt igniting a fiery mix of jealousy and desperation within you.

He's punishing you, making sure you feel the sting of his jealousy just as much as he felt yours.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your mind spinning as he drives into you with purpose, his hips slamming against yours in a rhythm that's as intoxicating as it is punishing. The thought of him with someone else, of him turning his attention away from you, burns hotter than you can bear.

"Is that what you want, Angel?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous as he leans down, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. "Someone else getting what's yours? Watching while I ruin her the way I ruin you?"

You shake your head frantically, your voice trembling as you gasp, "No... no, I don't want that."

His grin widens, wicked and satisfied, as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. "That's what I thought," he says, his thrusts growing deeper, harder, his dominance pressing down on you like a weight you can't escape.

One hand moves up to grip your jaw possessively, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he continues his powerful thrusts. “You should see your face right now, Angel. Those big doe eyes, realizing you fucked up." His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You look like you might cry, sweetheart. Like you might beg me to stay away from those other women." He leans in closer, his breath hot against your mouth.

“i’m sorry daddy..”

His eyes flash with a cold, calculating light as he hears the whispered "daddy." He pulls back slightly, his hands tightening on your jaw and hips. “You're too little, you know that? Too young to keep a man like me interested." You let out a sad whimper.

He smirks cruelly, his hips bucking upwards again. "See, you're making those sad little noises because you think I'm going to leave you for someone older, mature, more... suitable." He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust.

His eyes glitter with a cruel amusement as he watches the anguish play across your face. "Is that what you're afraid of, sweetheart? That I might find someone more woman than girl?" His thumb presses down harder on your lip, forcing it to tremble.

His smirk softens slightly, but the dangerous edge remains in his voice. “Tell me, Angel... would you miss Daddy? Would you miss these hands? This cock?" He deliberately grinds against you, hitting that sensitive spot again. "Or would you find someone else?"

Your eyes widen at his question, a flash of jealousy and possessiveness crossing your features. You clench tightly around him, your arms reaching back to wrap around his neck possessively. “N-no! I only want you, daddy..”

He growls low in his throat, the sound of satisfaction and dominance. His hands tighten on you, fingers digging into soft flesh as he begins to pound into you mercilessly. "Only me, is it? My little Angel, so possessive, so jealous..."

With each powerful thrust, he bounces you on his cock like a rag doll, his massive hands gripping you hips with bruising force. The wet slap of your bodies meeting echoes obscenely through the room along with your tiny squeals. "Fuck, look at you trembling on my dick”

He leans forward, his muscular torso pressing against your bouncing breasts as he growls into your ear. "You've got me fucking wild, you know that? Jealous little thing, clinging to my cock like it's your lifeline."

You shiver at his words, your pussy fluttering and tightening around his length. You turn your head to the side, nuzzling into his neck submissively. "Y-yes, daddy... I'm your jealous little slut... Only yours..."

His eyes roll back slightly as your words send a jolt of pleasure through him. He bites down on your neck, marking you as his, as he continues to rut into you with animalistic abandon. "Fucking right you are..."

Your vision starts to blur as he continues to claim you, his cock pounding into your overstuffed pussy, his teeth marking your skin. Your completely lost in the moment, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being filled and bred by him.

As your vision blurs, he looks down at you, his face twisted in a feral grimace of pleasure. "Look at you, fucking lost in it, aren't you? My little Angel, so small and tight, taking Daddy's big cock like the good little slut she is."

You can't even form a coherent response, your mind blanked by the intense pleasure. All you can do is cling to him, your body shaking and trembling as he continues to fuck you. "Mmmmph... D-daddy...”

He reaches one hand up to roughly squeeze your bouncing tits, his thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple cruelly. "Stupid slut, who fucking owns this pussy? Who's fucking you into oblivion?" His hips slam up brutally, driving his massive cock deep.

You wail, your body convulsing around him as he twists your sensitive nipple. You look up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes rolled back into your head. “Y-you... Daddy, only you..”

He growls triumphantly, fucking you even harder at your submission. “That's right, baby girl. Daddy fucking owns this cunt. Look at you falling apart on my cock..." His other hand moves between their bodies, pressing firmly against your clit.

Your whole body seizes up as he rubs your clit, the overwhelming stimulation pushing you over the edge. “DADDY!!" you scream, your pussy clamping down violently on his cock as you cum hard, your juices gushing out around his cock.

He groans loudly as your orgasm makes your pussy squeeze his length like a vice. He spreads your thighs wider, pounding into you non-stop. "Jesus Christ, Angel. You're squirting all over Daddy's dick..."

His voice becomes ragged with lust as he continues to fuck through your orgasm, completely losing control. "Fuck fuck fuck... You're a filthy little mess... Look how you creamed Daddy's cock...” His breathing turns heavy, animalistic "You're making me fucking cum...” With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his thick length pulsing as he begins to fill your womb with his hot, sticky seed. "FUCK, Angel!" he roars, his face contorting in pure ecstasy. "Take Daddy's fucking cum!"

You throw your head back, as you feel his hot seed filling your insides, your body greedily accepting his release. You moan softly, "Yes, Daddy... Breed me~”

He collapses forward slightly, still holding your hips tight as his cock continues to twitch, depositing every last drop of his seed. “Dirty little slut... look what you made me do... I’m fucking you full of cum...”

He slowly pulls out of you, watching as his thick, creamy seed spills out of your well-fucked hole. He smirks darkly, knowing he's marked you as his. "Look at that pretty little pussy, all stretched out and full of Daddy's cum. You're a mess, Angel. My dirty, fucked out little whore." He reaches down to spread your lips apart, showing off your leaking entrance. "This is what you are for me, sweetheart."

You nod, dazed and your mind foggy. He lays you on the bed before going to your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet cloth to clean you. He returns to the bedroom, his expression softening slightly as he approaches the bed where you lay sprawled and dazed. Kneeling between your thighs, he gently presses the warm, damp cloth against your overly sensitive pussy, cleaning you up.

After thoroughly cleaning you, he tosses the cloth aside and lies down beside you, pulling you into his strong arms. He holds you close, your head resting on his chest as he wraps a thick, muscular arm around you waist, keeping you snuggled against him.

“…You knew the whole time?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of shock and disbelief woven into your words.

He stills for a moment, his hips pressed against yours, his weight grounding you beneath him. His heart beats a little faster, though his expression remains calm, composed. He looks down at you, his intense gaze piercing through your surprise as if daring you to question him further.

“Yes, Angel,” he says, his voice steady but low, laced with an edge of dominance that makes your stomach flip. “I knew. From the moment I first saw you, I recognized those big, innocent eyes. And when I heard your voice…” His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek, almost tender in contrast to the firm hold of his other hand on your hip. “I knew exactly who you were.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mind racing to process his confession. All this time, you thought you were hidden behind the safety of your mask, your anonymity protecting you. But he had known—it was you, always you.

“Then why…” Your voice falters as you try to form the words, your cheeks burning with both embarrassment and the weight of his unwavering gaze.

“Why didn’t I say anything?” he finishes for you, his lips quirking into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His tone softens slightly, though it’s no less intense. “Because I wanted you to come to me willingly. I wanted you to need me the way I need you, Angel. And you did. You gave yourself to me, completely, without even knowing it.”

His words leave you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. His hand trails down to your jaw, tilting your face upward so you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“And now,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against yours, “there’s no going back. You’re mine, Angel. You’ve always been mine.”

His lips crash against yours, swallowing the gasp that escapes you as his hand tightens on your jaw. The kiss is anything but gentle— it's heated, desperate, and possessive, like he's staking his claim on you in a way words never could.

You melt beneath him, your hands instinctively reaching up to grasp his shoulders, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides against yours, commanding and insistent, leaving no room for hesitation or second-guessing.

The world outside fades away, the only thing grounding you to reality being the feel of his body pressed against yours and the relentless intensity of his kiss. When he finally pulls back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rests against yours, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice rough, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

"Say it."

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice unsteady but sincere.

He smirks, his lips finding yours again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming.

The kiss is deliberate, his every movement a reminder of the power he holds over you— and the hold you clearly have over him.

[snoopychris]

aquarium

in which... chris takes mermaid!reader to the aquarium for the first time

sometimes the ocean served as an escape to you. the corals were beautiful, the animals were so friendly sometimes, and it felt so nice to spend time alone with your thoughts at times. at the very same time, sometimes it felt like a prison of sorts. the ocean, as big as it was, sometimes just felt so repetitive. you were 10 years old the first time your dad had let you go onto land on your own. ever since then, it had been such a relief. although a majority of nights were spent in the water, most of the day was spent on land. the places you visited would always vary, ranging from the beach to your dads restaurant to a different beach to a coffee shop and most recently, the sturniolo house. the friendship that had blossomed between you and chris was something you never expected to happen. you had a few friends on land, but there had never been anybody as adamant on hanging with you than chris. it felt like every time you grabbed your phone, there would be a text asking if you wanted to hang out. it was nice having a friend who seemed to really care.

chris was so grateful to finally have a drivers license. the last time he was here, he had to ask matt to drive him everywhere. this time he didnt. this time, chris could do whatever he wanted as long as his grandmother gave him the keys to a car. she never said no. in the past few weeks, chris had found himself spending a lot of time with you on random beaches you would tell him about.

some had nice fish, some had nice corals, some had lots of sea turtles, some had cool plants, some had cool tide pools. he didnt mind spending time on beaches with you, but sometimes it just wasnt enough. it especially wasnt enough since neither of you ever actually went swimming. he never questioned it– maybe you were just like him and afraid of the water.  sometimes, Chris wanted more. he wanted to be able to take you on nice dates to nice restaurants. 

this was the first time he convinced you to leave the comfort of beaches and his house. something about your entire being drew him towards the aquarium. in small talk conversation, you had told him you’d never been. he had seen people all over his social media apps talking about how it’s one of the most romantic places to take your partner. he knew that you may not have been anywhere near dating, but he just had to take you. your hair was swaying in the wind, the pastel highlights you had recently gotten really showing through. chris wants to kiss you. he knows he can’t, but he really really wants to. 

Chris can’t help but smile when he sees your face light up every time you talk about fish and other sea creatures. he wants to ask how you have such close experience with the blue ringed octopus, but he’s sure that you’ll tell

him the story one day. he wonders how you’ve gone so long living in the Keys and never having gone to the aquarium. chris doesn’t take long to park, but he spends a good minute staring at you. god, you’re beautiful. he runs over to the passenger side of his grandfathers old car, opening the door for you. you send him a small thank you and make your way towards the front door of the building. 

chris feels a blush creep onto his face when your eyes widen in amusement at all of the sea themed decorations. he could’ve gotten the tickets online, but he thought it’d take away from the experience. he makes his way to the cashier, making sure you’re following close behind. both of you recognize the girl standing behind the counter— she’s a girl name kaylynn. you know her for all the wrong reasons. chris knows her for all the right ones. you lick your lips as a look of anger grows on your face. kaylynn tries to be friendly for a second, she really does.

it doesn’t last. “chris… hanging out with the burger girl i see. y’know… you could always hang out with me. we could go to the beach and watch the turtles” she quips. your face contorts as you hold back a response. you could say a lot right now. the look on chris’ face is the only thing holding you back. a small scoff leaves your mouth as you roll your eyes, being met with another comment about your fathers restaurant. you should hold back. not for your sake but for chris’. whatever. you mumble it at first, earning a look from kaylynn. it’s one that screams ‘too scared to fight back?’ you can’t have that. not today. 

“oh my apologies kaylynn. guess you didn’t hear me. so what i said was that you’re a two faced pick me bitch.” if chris wasn’t in shock before, he is now. “pearl!” he yells quietly, his eyebrows high and his mouth hung low. “i’m being honest.” you whisper, snatching the tickets from the girl and walking away. if you could wipe that grin off her face, you would. chris jogs over to you after sending poor kaylynn a semi-apologetic look, gripping onto your wrist gently. 

“what’s that all about?” he asks, letting go of your hand when you sit down on a bench. from what you can tell it’s made of old treasure boxes. “she acts like she cares about all the fish and all the other animals but once i saw her scuba diving and literally stepping on coral with her water shoes. i also saw her litter on a beach.” you explain, crossing your arms. chris shakes his head, running fingers through his hair. “yeah that’s definitely a good excuse for disliking her.” he chuckles, looking around. the two of you still haven’t even entered the aquarium. “here cmon.” he whispers. his hand locks with yours, dragging you to the main attraction. you gasp slightly at the sights you were seeing. even though a lot of the tanks were beautifully decorated, covered in vines and corals, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the fish. some of them were speaking to you. you wished you could help them.

chris can’t help but smile when you put your hand on one of the tanks. you look even more beautiful against the water. “do you um… wanna go swimming with stingrays? they have that here…” your eyes widen at his words. you’re not too sure if it’s because you know this isnt the right place for stingrays or if it’s because there’s open water. a way for you to get caught. you were always careful at the beach. if anything happened you could run away for a bit, dry off, and then come back. if anything happened here there was no escape. chris quickly notices your expression, shaking his head “don’t worry i’m not a fan either! not after steve irwin.” he jokes, continuing to pull you along. you actually really liked stingrays. they were cool. 

you follow close behind chris, hand in hand the entire time. you’d never had a friend guide you like this. it feels nice. every time he turns a corner, there’s more and more fish speaking to you telepathically. it’s something you wanted to turn off sometimes. but others it was nice to hear them when you were swimming alone. “can we get out of here? i feel bad for the fish.” you whisper. chris’ gaze towards you softens, leading you away from the crowds. there’s kids around you screaming. there’s a water table nearby. you hear about it from one of the fish. you gasp slightly at the sight of it, gripping chris’ hand tighter. in your mind, you’re petrified. in chris’ mind, you just like holding his hand. luckily, you make it to the gift shop dry. 

the first thing your hands fly to is a small shark plush. you don’t know why you’re so drawn to it, but you know you just need to have it. chris chuckles, grabbing a similar one. they’re almost identical, the only difference coming from the style of shark. “they’re palm pals. take it.  i’ll buy it for you.” he smiles. you smile back, setting it down on the counter. you feel bad spending his money, but chris feels bad not buying you more. on the way out of the gift shop, you begin to speak. “thank you. this was nice. i know we weren’t here for long but… you’re a good friend chris.” it sends a pang towards chris’ heart, but he knows that you really are nothing more than friends, despite your hands still being intertwined. he shrugs, jokingly flexing his arms next to the car. “it’s what i do.” he smiles, opening the door for you. he grabs onto your hand as you climb in, the roof over your head being a nice comfort. it was a feeling so vastly different from the one inside. there was no water here. 

it’s a bit crazy when you arrive to chris’ house. the drive is only about 25 minutes, and yet in those 25 minutes, the previously clear skies had turned dark grey. it was pouring. chris gently turns the keys out of the ignition, turning towards you. you’re filled with panic again, but your poker face is so spot on that chris doesn’t notice. “y’ready?” he asks, nudging your shoulder. you glance up at him and then outside , shaking your head. “let’s just talk till the rain dies down.” you shrug, pushing your tinseled hair away from your face. chris is never going to decline that offer. the land sometimes felt like an escape. it was such a shame that there were things you’d never be able to do. as much as you hated to admit it, if the ocean was a prison, so was the land. both places you could be at the same time. a strange feeling arises in your stomach when you realize that the only place you’re truly free is any place that you’re with chris.

🫧dividers by @13hoax my angel

🫧tags(reply or message to be added!): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333@wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @zebonos @chrislova @muwapsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @throatgoat4u @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @zebonos @ribbonlovergirl @colorthecosmos444

🫧a/n: this ending was rushed can you tell :/ if you see this within the first few minutes of me positng it ignore how the layout looks. anyway welcome back cgs chris i missed you.

[phantom-dc]

Vivisection Deception

“Yes, dad. I will vacuum the living room. Yes, I will also do my homework. No, I won’t forget the Ecto-filter. Love you too, say hi to mom and Jazz for me, bye!”

Danny hung up the phone. Sitting back into the booth at the Nasty burger, he got back to his burger. Tucker took a big bite, before talking with his mouth still full:

“So, your parents and sister are all out of town for the whole weekend? They had no problem leaving you alone unsupervised?”

Sam looked at Tucker with disgust, warning him to empty his mouth first. Danny nodded, agreeing with Sam:

“Yeah! Jazz wanted to explore different universities for when she graduates, even though that’s still a few years away. Still, mom and dad agreed to drive her if they could combine it with a visit to a convention for the Occult. Pretty sure they’ll be the only “scientists” there again, but that’s not my problem. Mom decided that she I could stay home alone. A sign of trust, Jazz called it. Something about "improving through positive reinforcement", I guess.”

Sam finishes her salad, and looks jealous. Danny invites both her and Tucker over for a weekend of gaming and fast food, but both decline, to his surprise. Sam groans, frustrated:

“I would love a weekend with no parents! Mine are forcing me to this, rich people yacht party. Mom keeps saying I might find a nice boy there, so I know it will be a weekend full of mom trying to play matchmaker with snotty rich boys. YUCH!”

Tucker apologizes as well. His parents are taking him to visit his grandma this weekend. He hasn’t seen her in a while, so he can’t cancel it, either. Danny looks a bit sullen about that, but smiles through it:

“Guess I’ll have the weekend to myself then! Maybe I can actually get this book report for Mr. Lancer done… Or I can even play a bit of Doomed!”

Friday evening, Phantom is flying back home. He has just seen Sam & Tucker off at the airport, and was looking forward to a weekend of peace and quiet:

“Man, sometimes I just forget how rich Sam is! I didn’t know her family has a private jet-“

Suddenly his Ghost Sense goes off. Getting into a battle stance, Phantom looks around. He is just in time to dodge a pair of claws heading straight for him! Turning around and shooting an ectoblast, Phantom tries to figure out who the ghost is. When the ghost taunts him at becoming slower every day, Phantom recognizes his voice:

“Bertrand! I am SO not in the mood for you!”

Bertrand laughs, and says that he was hoping for that. He attacks Phantom again before flying off, taunting Phantom to chase him. After a few hours Phantom lost his trail, and heads home. De-transforming before going inside Fentonworks, Danny is annoyed he’ll have to deal with Bertrand, but at least Spectra wasn’t with him. She’s the real threat.

When Danny steps inside, he finds the house is a mess! There are cannisters with Ectoplasm throughout the house, and the temperature is set to near freezing. Confused and suspicious, Danny goes to the lab. There he finds the cause of the mess:

“Mom?? What are you doing home? Aren’t you supposed to be with Dad & Jazz on her University trip?”

Maddie turns to Danny and quickly puts a strange gasmask on him. She is wearing one as well, along with her safety goggles:

“Hello sweetie! Quick, put this mask on! The samples we managed to collect give of Ectoplasmic fumes, so you’ll have to keep wearing it in the house, ok?”

Danny follows her advice, and puts it on. He again asks her what she is doing home, when Jack enters the lab as well, also wearing a gasmask and his safety goggles. Danny thinks the fumes must be pretty dangerous if his dad is wearing the goggles. He usually forgets to put them on. Jack gives Danny a big hug that would cause many regular humans severe backpain:

“Son, you’re home! We were worried sick when your mother and I got home early and you weren't here. Jazz thought we were “hurting her chances” to get into the school of her dreams, so she sent us home.”

Danny rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what kind of antics his parents could get up to when left unsupervised. He asks Maddie what is up with all the cannisters in the living room. Maddie apologizes, while turning the heat down even further:

“We managed to find a way to extract even purer Ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone! We took so many samples we can’t even fit them in the lab, this will be great for our research! Oh, but I am sorry, sweetie. The samples need to stay very cold, so we can’t turn up the heat. If you need, I can get you more blankets?”

Danny sighs frustrated, not looking forward to a weekend of cold. He declines Maddie’s offer, instead opting to go to bed. It is very late after all. Which is when Jack blocks the way upstairs:

“Don’t think you can distract us that easily! Or did you honestly think we didn’t notice?”

Danny is confused, but before he can answer Maddie interrupts him:

“That’s right, it IS late! In fact, it’s 2 hours past your curfew! Now why do you keep doing this, Danny? We’re not asking much of you, only that you come home at a reasonable time! Just because we weren’t supposed to be home yet, doesn’t mean you can stay out until who knows when! You are grounded, young man! You’re not allowed out this weekend, and hand over your phone!”

Danny tries to protest, but it’s in vain. Handing over his phone, he heads to bed, dejected. As he lies in bed, freezing, he wonders if things would be easier if he could just tell them what he was doing. Judging from that time with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet they would accept him, right? If they knew he was Phantom he could just tell them he was hunting Ghosts…

Saturday turns out to be the worst. Danny is woken up forcefully by his dad, who tells him he isn’t allowed to sleep in as long as he is grounded. Sleepily, Danny goes downstairs, a blanket around him and that stupid gasmask on his face. He asks Maddie how he is supposed to eat breakfast with that thing on. Maddie seems to think for a bit, and says that he is right. She will allow him to go out to get himself something to eat.

Danny quickly races upstairs, a bit confused about that break of curfew but not wanting to lose the chance to get out off the house. After getting dressed Jack tells him to get home back after immediately, or else he’ll be worse then grounded! That was a few hours ago. Cursing his bad luck, Danny races home:

“Please, please, PLEASE be too busy in the lab to notice I’m late! Of course the Ghosts also decide to ruin my weekend! First Ember doing an impromptu concert at the Nasty Burger, which means I can’t get breakfast. Then Johnny & Kitty are fighting it out at the food court in the mall, so I can’t get lunch either! If mom & dad send me home without dinner…”

De-transforming and entering Fentonworks, Danny looks around. The living room is still a mess of cannisters and the place is freezing, but he doesn’t see his parents. That means he might be able to bluff he was home for a while and they didn’t notice. If he can just get his chores done before they come upstairs…

“DANNY! COME DOWN TO THE LAB, NOW!”

Hearing that, Danny groans. This weekend is going from bad to worse! Putting on a gasmask, he heads to the lab. There he finds Jack & Maddie preparing a table with a big drill attached to it. Danny lies that he going to do his chores quickly while they are still busy, and empties the Fenton Thermos into the Ghost Zone without them noticing. When he turns around, he is not prepared for what happens.

The next moment he is trapped in a ghost-proof net, shot from a Fenton Net-bazooka. Confused, Danny asks what is happening, but receives no answer. Instead, Jack electrifies the net, causing Danny to instinctively transform into Phantom to protect himself, before passing out from the pain.

When he comes too, he is in hell. His parents saw him transform outside on new camera’s that Danny didn’t know off, and denounced him, both as a human being and as a son. They see his act of releasing the Ghosts back into the Zone as a sign that he too is evil. Danny is cuffed to an examination table and his powers are restrained. He is truly trapped as Maddie makes the first incision. Hours pass and Danny wonders how he can still be alive and conscious. He wishes he wasn’t. He didn’t know what was worse, the pain or the constant venom coming from his parents mouths, calling him all sort of horrible things. They must truly hate him. Danny, now terrified of every move his parents make, can only think of one thing:

Escape.

He must get out of here or they’ll kill him for good! He needs to get as far away from here as possible! For once, it seemed his Fenton Luck decided to show mercy. When they reached his Core, Jack had grabbed a remote. Shouting with a sick glee that he had the drill ready for this, he pushed a big red button. Maddie looked up, shouting that was the wrong remote, but it was already done.

With a loud noise, the cuffs popped open and Danny was free! Not thinking for a second, he shot into the roof, out of Fentonworks and towards the horizon. He need to get out of there! He’s never looking back!

Inside the lab, Jack & Maddie look at the spot Phantom fled through the ceiling. Suddenly Maddie begins to laugh:

“HAHAHAHA!!! It worked! That was absolutely delicious! He’ll be miserable for the rest of his life!”

Taking off the gasmask and goggles, ‘Maddie’ reveals herself to be Spectra in disguise! Next to her, ‘Jack’ morphs back into Bertrand.

“A brilliant plan, truly! Not only are we rid of that little Freak, but the misery of his little friends will be a great dessert!”

Spectra takes out Danny’s phone, seeing several missed calls from the real Jack & Maddie. Throwing it on the Ectoplasm and blood covered table, she decides to go celebrate. Heading into the Ghost Zone to get Ember and Kitty to repay the favor, neither Spectra not Bertrand notice the Portals Ectofilter beeping dangerously, since they had inadvertently prevented Danny from replacing it.

Outside, the Fenton RV rolls up. Jack, Maddie and Jazz are worried sick since Danny isn’t answering his phone. Jack is about to open the car door when the Portal explodes, taking Fentonworks with it. Months later the Fentons still blame themselves for leaving their son home alone. Police reports will later say that the only casualty is Danny Fenton.

Several states away, homeless boy Danny Nightingale attracts the attention of several heroes and villains alike…

[zepskies]

Ooooh I'M so excited to see what you thought of the ATW finale!

Lol aww you remembered!! ❤️‍🔥 I've legit had this scene for this story in my head since that convo! But you're too kind to me, friend, thank you so very much. 🥹🥹 This is a lot shorter than how long my usual series run, so I feared it was a bit rushed, but I'm so glad you've enjoyed the ride. 💕

And yes, I did steal your other Ross gif! 🤣

There's legit a Friends gif for everything.~

Such a strong and hot start, wow! 🫠🔥 Full honesty, as a writer, starting chapters with smut always freaks me tf out. Like, where do you put the damn "keep reading" line without flashing some innocent people at work 😂

We're starting off with a bang! 😝 (Sorry, even I hate my self for that pun.)

Oh God, yeah. How do I include a hook to get people to read this chapter while keeping the steamy stuff under the cut? 🤣🤣

Ooof, I know the exact feeling you're describing here. Kinda like when you're taking a hot bath but the room is cold and so everything not covered by water is freezing... 😅

Yes exactly! The kind of cold that just exists in the air like a frigid blanket. 🥶

Oh, here we go! Executed to perfection 😏

Ahaha thank you, my lovely. 😏❤️‍🔥

First of all, I was just reading this whole, intensely scorching scene with a thundering heart and squeezing my damn thighs hard 😂 Secondly, I loooove this trope! It's sorta romantic?! Idk 😅🤷‍♀️ Kinda gives "waiting for the right one and not in the mood for anyone else" vibes. I did that kinda with Russell recently lol But I love the extra intensity and specialness it gives, y'know? ❤️‍🔥

omg I love that trope too (clearly lol)! Yes that's exactly it on it being actually romantic -- and if you mean on Part 3 of Exit Strategy than I'm even more excited to read that chapter when I get a chance -- hopefully later this week! 😍 I'm loving how you're writing Russell. 💗

But yes I agree it adds an extra spark here imo, knowing Dean has been unintentially "saving himself" for her lmaoo.

Loved the callback of him hearing her again, although his instincts had taken over. It shows how much he cares about her and respects her 💕 And I truly wonder what Sam will say when Dean comes back with a mate lol

Aww that's exactly what I intended as well! He's not so far gone that he doesn't consider her and what she wants (with him). 💕

You know what, a few people have requested seeing an epilogue of some kind where Sam gets to meet the reader and she gets to meet him and Dean Jr., so I may have to sketch something soon for my next little project. 🥰

Lol I was gonna say, "How long do you guys plan on being here? This might take a while" 😂 But I'm so in love with their little afterglow bonding session ❤️❤️❤️ I honestly could read about their convos forever. They're so cute 🥹

Lolll right? They could be here for a week just going over the past 15 seasons. 😂 But they have to start somewhere, right? John's journal can only cover so much. And I wanted Dean to start expressing himself to her in words and start to open up to her in a way he hasn't done for anyone in years.

Aww I'm so glad that you love them together! 💗 In this story I found that the small moments and day-to-day convos between these two were just as important as the bigger action/dramatic moments.

We've already talked about this when he mentioned Dean jr. the first time, but my headcanon is, too, that Dean would be super happy, incredibly sad and lonely, and definitely a little envious and sour lol 😂😂

Ugh that's exactly it, poor baby. 😭 A perfect description of Dean post S15 here (gotta add envious and sour lmao).

You really nailed him here! I could hear every word out of his mouth, too!! 😂🫶

Omg thank you!! I feel like Dean's the one I can hear most clearly in my head when I write for him. 😂😂

Can totally seeing him doing all of that and arguing with her throughout lol Our hero 🥹💚

Oh absolutely. These two would probably be driving each other crazy while still being crazy in love with one another -- bickering all down the mountain. 🙄😂

(Dean grumbling, trying to stamp down his smile: "Shoulda left you for the damn bear.")

Oooh, I completely forgot she doesn't yet!! Aww, she loved him before she knew he had a cool car. This is like finding out he was a millionaire and kept it a secret to find true love and weed out the gold diggers 🤣

Bahahaa I LOVE that comparison. 🤣 I just imagined him pulling up like--

This had me DEAD 🤣🤣🤣

lmfaoooo I meannnn, is he wrong? 😂😂

A year???? Jesus fuck, this is even sadder now!!! Sam was really like, "Ciao, jerk." lol

Yeeeeah maybe this is something I'll explore if/when I write that epilogue, but Sam really is off having his new life. Granted, in my mind he reaches out to Dean to check in, invite him over, etc., but even though Dean's happy for him, it's hard to be around Sam's life when Dean himself feels so aimless (and kind of empty inside). So he probably did a lot of the "staying away" in the situation. 💙

Oh she's about to find out how much 😂😂💚

Oh she's about to find out a lot of things about her man that she never thought possible. 🤣🤣

("You've died HOW many times?!!")

That was such a perfect ending! They literally drove off into the sunset together *swoon* 😍🫠🫶 (And I could totally see Dean singing along to the lyrics at the end there) I seriously enjoyed this series so much, friend!! 🤍🤍🤍 Totally gave me those vibes 🥹💕:

Aww thank you so, so much, Wayne!! 💕💕 They really did have their Hallmark movie moment lol. (Oh, he SO would be singing along -- loudly! lol)

omggg I'm honestly honored that it gave you Mondler vibes. 🥹 I always loved them more than Ross/Rachel tbh, so that's literally the best compliment ever. 💗

Thank you again so much for reading and always brightening my day right up with your wonderful, insightful, hilarious comments on my writing, friend. 💞

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[adieutristana]

Hi! Can you write something cute with alt! powder? Like reverse comfort. Powder feels bad on the anniversary of Vi's death, and reader, her romantic partner, tries to make her feel better

of course! thank you for the request <3

you guys must really like my hurt/comfort LOL it's most of my inbox rn! not complaining though hehe

summary; powder’s girlfriend comforting her on the anniversary of vi’s death.

characters included; powder (act iii au)

tags/warnings; death (duh), grief, hurt/comfort, fluff, s2 spoilers, implied that reader and powder were childhood friends

men dni.

the scent of myrrh clings to the air.

today marks eight years since the death of vi. one of zaun's most promising, a young fighter with a heart of gold. determined, strong, and loyal.

but most importantly, vi, your girlfriend's big sister. her protector, one she looked to for guidance and love. comfort in trying times, such as these.

your hand is rubbing gentle circles along the skin of powder's lower back, trying to offer silent reassurance. it hurts you to see your love like this. her shoulders slumped, eyes weary, her gaze fixed solely on a photo of her sister. one where she seems so vibrant, so full of life. she didn't have a clue what the world had in store for her, the fact that her life would end so prematurely. it wasn't uncommon, people dying young in zaun. but powder never thought it would be vi.

"i still don't think it's fair."

she mutters, tone more somber than angry. you nod slowly, your hand continuing its patterns across powder's back.

"it isn't. she was taken too early."

you respond. powder doesn't speak for another beat afterward, tugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them as she continues to look over vi's altar. the doll of her sister, various lit candles, incense wafting through the air. a few small belongings of vi's that powder had managed to recover- some jewelry, little trinkets, the like.

"do you think she'd be surprised to see where i am now?"

you hum, wrapping your arm around her shoulder loosely and pressing your girlfriend into you. you take a deep breath in before nodding in response.

"i think so, yeah. her little sister, all grown up... a genius of sorts, too. always creating, always thinking."

she lets out a little 'mm,' continuing to gaze over the memorial.

"it wasn't always jobs and fighting, she was sweet. we used to pillow fight in our room when we couldn't sleep, and vi would always let me win." powder muses, a light chuckle escaping her. "she helped me learn to read and write, even though i got confused on sounding out letters and couldn't figure out how to hold a pencil at first."

you laugh at that, looking back over at powder.

"yeah? well, she was a good sister. that much is obvious to anybody who knew her."

powder hums in agreement, but she seems to slowly tense back up. she begins to pick at her cuticles and bite the inside of her cheek as she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. your girlfriend's blue eyes turn back to you.

"do you think she'd be... proud?"

you nod again, without missing a beat. powder didn't even have to ask that question, honestly. it was obvious to anybody who knew her that her late sister would be thrilled with how far she had come in life, with how zaun had changed for the better and powder was an active participant in that change. she had gone from an unsure, anxious girl to a confident, innovative woman. with the help of friends, family, the very people who supported vi.

"she is, pow."

"how can you be so sure?"

she sighs, but lays her head against your shoulder. choppy blue locks splayed across, with a slender arm wrapping around your waist.

"just look at you," you pause, returning your gaze back to your girlfriend. almost as if to emphasize your point. "you're a smart, kind, creative, genius of a woman."

powder scoffs lightly, shaking her head. you can tell she's about to make some remark in protest.

"i mean it, babe. you're a far cry from the powder she knew, but that's a good thing. she'd be proud that you made something for yourself, that you're happy. that you're living in a better zaun than she knew."

powder lets out a heavy sigh, her eyes finally meeting yours. seeing her like this always chips at your heart a little. she missed her big sister every day of every year, but this day never gets easier. it likely never will, no matter how many more years pass. vi's death left a hole in the city of zaun, in the heart of vander, in you, but nobody had suffered the loss more than the girl before you.

"i wish she would've got to see it." she hums, looking back to the altar. the incense sticks are nearly burnt out, the smoke getting thinner. "zaun, i mean. it's changed so much since she last saw it. people can build a life here, we aren't so neglected or war-torn or... whatever. hell, even vander and silco made up."

she scoffs in light amusement, betraying her current emotions. it's hard, knowing exactly what to say. you love powder, you want her to be happy. you've always hated seeing her so torn by grief. but grief is weird in those ways, never fully going away. hitting full-force while powder is in the middle of a crowded room, or powder feeling completely alright for a few weeks before her sister's death hits her all over again.

yet you've always been there to remind her of everything- and the fact that you don't ever get over it per se, but build a life around the grief instead. something you believe powder has done a fine job of.

"i know you wish she could've seen it. but wherever she is, i think she knows somehow."

powder sighs, her shoulders slumping in mild disbelief.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean, we don't know for sure about life after death, or spirits or any of that stuff. but i think that somehow, vi knows her sister is doing well, and that zaun is a better place than she knew it as."

the incense is finished burning.

"i'll get those."

you say before your girlfriend can get up. she lightly huffs, but doesn't try to stop you. you stride over to the altar, grabbing a few loose incense sticks.

"i know today is hard for you, love... it always is. but i'll be here the entire time, okay?" you pause to strike a match, bringing it to the tip of a few incense sticks. "you can do whatever you need to. talk to me. sit in silence. whatever you need."

you slowly sit down back beside powder, wrapping an arm around her shoulder from the side and squeezing in light reassurance. she lets out a shaky breath before settling her head back onto your shoulder.

"the whole time?"

"the whole time, love. i promise."

she sighs, turning her head to brush her lips against the soft skin of your shoulder. today is hell in more ways than one, but you make the torment a little bit more bearable.

"i like that... yeah."

[babydollslibrary]

KARMA— JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: February 13th, 2023

summary: in which y/n’s ex-best friend has been gossiping behind y/n’s back saying that Jack should be with her instead, so y/n shows that karma goes both ways.

specific lyrics: “you’re talking shit, for the hell of it. addicted to betrayal.” and “ask me what i learned from all those years. ask me what i earned from all those tears.” and “karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend, karma’s a relaxing thought”

warnings: toxic friendship mentions, light profanity

GIF by teex

“did you hear about what Carley said last week?” i hear as soon as i sit down in my seat at brunch.

“no.” i shake my head. “what did she say now?”

“she was out with her friends, and Nicole and Jesper were sat by her at the restaurant; overheard her saying that Jack should be with her instead of you. apparently she’s convinced that he’s only pitying you and she deserves him because she’s ‘richer, prettier, and has more followers’.” Ryleigh says. “what a bitch! i can’t believe you were ever friends with her.“

“karma is a bitch, it’ll get to her one day.” i shrug. “she wasn’t much different when we were friends. claimed i ‘stole’ Jack from her because ‘she saw him first’, but he and i had already been dating by the time she saw him. we just hadn’t been public yet.”

“but, you’re literally the sweetest person i’ve ever met. i’m just saying, i don’t understand how you could’ve been friends with her for so long.” Darya chimes in, setting her mimosa down in front of her.

“i was friends with her since we were ten, she’s always been this way. a lot of my tears were from her hand. she insisted she would do things in the name of friendship and ‘bettering me’, but eventually, i learned that she was just a horrible person and i should stop excusing her actions. as i said, karma will get to her eventually.” i explain as i scan the menu in front of me. i know how Carley is. it doesn’t exactly surprise me that she’s talking bad about me, she used to do it even while we were friends.

“well, karma isn’t coming fast enough. that girl needs to be humbled soon.” Ryleigh exclaims and Darya nods in agreement. before i can respond, the waiter comes to take our orders and the subject changes.

**

i’m sat in glass seats at a Devils home game, waiting for them to come out for warmups. i switch between glass seats and the WAGS box every few games. i like hanging out with the girls but, i love to see the smile on Jack’s face when the Devils score. especially when he scores and he gets to look over at me and see that i watched and that i’m cheering for him. it’s not too long before warmups start that someone sits at the end of my row, and i look over to see Carley and one of her friends. i choose to ignore her and the looks i know she’s giving me. i have a right to be here, and she’s allowed to come to a game if she wants, i don’t control that. it’s when the warmups start that i have a problem with her. i’m looking down at my phone, texting Ryleigh when Jack skates by, banging a hand on the glass in front of me to get my attention. i startle, jumping in my seat and dropping my phone, and he laughs.

“hi baby!” i immediately recognize the voice yelling down the row. i look over to see Carley staring straight at Jack as he skates past her. he turns around, skating backwards and giving her a weird look before looking at me with a ‘what the fuck?’ face. i shrug my shoulders. what possessed her to make her think that calling my boyfriend ‘baby’ is okay?

i let the comment roll off my back, it’s whatever. i know that Jack has tons of fans, he’s talented, he’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a total package, i get it.

“score a goal for me tonight, babe!” i hear her call out. that’s when my problem starts. and my anger only increases after warmups, when i overhear her talking to her friend. “eventually, he’s gonna realize how much better he can do than y/n. and i’ll be there with open arms when he does.”

i remind myself to stay in my seat. i’ve turned a blind eye to her glares, i’ve let her gossiping fall on deaf ears instead of making a scene or causing drama, and i know it’ll be worth it in the end. i was raised to remember that karma is a powerful thing, and that it goes both ways. you do bad things, something will knock you down a peg. you do good things, you’ll have good luck. it’s common sense. but apparently she didn’t get the message.

**

“babe, come look at this!” Jack calls to me from our bed. it’s officially the off season and Jack and i have been at the Hughes lake house for the past couple days. it’s been nice being surrounded by his family and even a few of our friends.

“what’s up, love?” i ask, walking out of the closet where i was picking out a cover up to wear out on the boat. i slip the sundress i chose over my head and pull it down over my bikini.

“come see what Bratter just sent me.” i flop myself down on the bed next to him, laying on my side and cuddling into him, an arm wrapping around his torso. he tilts his phone screen towards me and i read the text that Jesper sent him.

—

From: Jesper Bratt

took Nicole out to lunch and she pointed out a girl that she said is obsessed with you. said her name was Carley. heard her talking to someone, saying you guys were destined to be together 😂 even heard her say that y/n isn’t good enough for you? does this girl have nothing better to do?

—

“she really just won’t stop, will she?” my question is rhetorical but Jack answers anyways.

“she’ll get the message soon enough. i don’t want her.” his words make me furrow my brows but i nod anyways. “you ready to head out?”

“yeah, let’s go.” we stand from the bed, making our way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, meeting the others in the living room before heading down to the dock and onto the boat. i sit and watch as all the guys take turns wakesurfing, choosing not to participate and instead enjoying the summer evening air.

“babe! babe, c’mere!” Jack calls from the back of the boat, where he’s currently wakesurfing. i stand, walking over and bending over the back of the boat so i can hear him.

“look at you, superstar!” i chime, grinning at him. he laughs and shakes his head.

“no, i wanted to say that i wanna take you on a walk around the lake when we get back.” i admire his smile for a few moments, just nodding in response and watching his face all lit up with joy. this man makes me so happy.

i keep myself rooted in that spot until he decides he’s done and gets back on the boat, letting Luke take his place. he looks at me with a wicked grin and i know exactly what he’s planning to do, but the boat is only so big and he catches me quite easily. pulling me to him, getting me wet with the cold water dripping from his hair and body. i shiver and let out a squeal; halfheartedly attempting to push him away. i feel my feet lift off the ground as Jack moves over to the bench seats, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap.

“now my cover up is all wet!” i feign a pout, but all he does is laugh, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“i’ll make it up to you. promise.” he squeezes me tighter to his chest and i shuffle down in order to lay my head on his chest, getting the side of my face wet in the process, but i don’t care. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” i smile, turning my head slightly to lay a kiss on his chest.

*

when we park back at the dock, Jack lets the guys know we’ll be back up to the house soon and pulls his hoodie over his head. he slings one arm around my shoulders, holding me to his side, and sticks his free hand in his hoodie pocket. we continue to walk along the lakeside in silence, just enjoying the last moments of sunset and the sounds of nature. i stop Jack a few times in order to point out pretty birds or various other beautiful nature moments. i let go of him once more, stepping closer to the water and letting him fall behind me.

“Jack, look at the way the sunset is reflecting off the lake! it’s gorgeous.” i turn to look back at him, checking to see i have his attention, but when i catch sight of him, one knee on the ground with a ring box opened in his hands and a watery smile on his face, my hands fly up to my mouth.

“y/n, i texted Quinn right after i met you, telling him i just met the love of my life. at the time, i thought maybe i was over exaggerating, but then i got to know you, and i knew i wasn’t. these past two and a half years with you have been the best of my life, and i was hoping you’ll choose to continue that. y/f/n, will you marry me?” his voice wavers, laced with emotion, and tears spring to my eyes.

“yes. god, yes! a million times yes!” i exclaim and he takes my hand, slipping the ring in my finger as he stands and i pull him into a kiss. my hands hold his face to mine and he grips my hips. pulling away, i wipe the tears from his cheeks and then mine. “i love you so much.”

“i love you so much more, pretty girl.”

—

@itsmey/n just posted

Liked by @_quinnhughes and 26,372 others

@itsmey/n summer nights 🤍

karma is so good to me

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@user1 THEY’RE ENGAGED?! THIS IS SO EXCITING

@_quinnhughes congrats guys! welcome to the family y/n

@itsmey/n thank you huggy!

@user2 OMG!

@jackhughes my forever girl ❤️💍

@itsmey/n so grateful for you

@trevorzegras congrats you two! happy for you guys!

@itsmey/n thank you, z! better clear some time from your summer golfing schedule next year!