#he joined at the very start. same time i did. was there through everything

[fashionteahouse]

i wonder - edward cullen x reader

next>>>

You patiently waited as the doctor came in. The nurse already checked your vitals. She tells you it’s been a pretty eventful day.

His face was magical in a way but you felt comfortable. His smile was bright and shiny and you couldn’t help but bring out your own smile.

“I know you’re ready to get this thing off.” he says to you and you nod.

It was true. You were tired of doing everything with one hand. The special saw cut through the cast and you look at the limb that’s been covered for some time. It felt freeing.

You walk out of the room as you thank the doctor.

“Now remember, no playing right away. Wait for a few days to a week.”

“Aw, really?” you say with much disappointment.

“It’s important that you don’t rush it. Your other hand I’m sure is thanking you.”

“It’s no fun playing with one hand.” you say with a playful pout and Dr. Cullen laughs a bit. Placing a hand on your arm, “It won’t be fun to hurt it even more.”

He glances elsewhere and he then gives you a polite smile before sending you on your way. You see him walk in the direction of the boy and a girl, around your same age as they talked quietly.

You then flex your hand, seeing that your wrist was a bit smaller than your other one. You test out of your wrist, pretending to play a few notes as if you’re at a piano. You shake your head as you clutch it.

You wince a bit as you understood what Dr. Cullen meant. You then sigh a bit before pulling out your phone to let your parent know that you’re done and on your way home.

“You play?” you hear a voice. It startled you a bit but it was soothing.

You slowly look up. You see that the boy that Dr. Cullen seemed to know, was staring at you. He was by himself instead of with the girl you seen him with earlier, waiting for an answer. His gaze was intense, which made you look down for a moment as you nod.

“How do you know?” you ask quietly. You didn’t know why you felt shy.

“I saw you test your wrist out as if you were playing keys.” He says. You look up and he brings on a soft but friendly smile.

“Do..You play?” you ask.

You expected the same answer as always.

“Yes.”

Your eyebrows raise a little in shock.

“Why are you…Surprised?” he asks with a low chuckle.

“Sorry..It’s just…I don’t know too many people who do play.”

“Did you just move here?” he asks.

“Yeah..I’ve been asking people..To you know, make friends but…” you end it with a shrug.

He opens his mouth to say something but you hear a small voice close to you.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You turn around to see a brunette, she’s hanging near the corner of the hallway. She staring dead at the boy you were talking to.

You turn back to the boy in front of you. He had a look that showed he was conflicted.

You make a small wave and started to be on your way. You didn’t look back.

“It was nice while it lasted.” you say in your head.

“So what did the doctor say?” your parent asks you.

“They said I have to wait up to a week to get back into using both hands.” you say over dinner.

“Well, that’s not bad. You catch on quick.”

“I know…You know I want to enter the music competition soon.”

That’s when they paused their chewing.

“You’re…Thinking about joining that?” they ask. You nod.

“Oh.” they comment.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s just….It’s your hobby and all but..For it to be your career…It’s very hard to make a profitable career out of that.”

“So..All of these years of classes and lessons are just going to be thrown away? Just like that?”

“I’m not saying that. Maybe it shouldn’t come first. You’ve always have gotten great grades. Y/N, it’s your final year before you go out into the real world. Picking a smart and lucrative career choice will help you be more prepared while being comfortable and stable.”

You sigh as you dig into your dinner. The same old talk.

“You start school tomorrow. Are you excited?” they ask with a smile. You mutter out a yes.

You lie in bed in the new home. After the divorce of your parents, you had to choose which one to stay with to finish out your year. The parent you chose, chose to move away for new beginnings. You didn’t mind. You were a bit happy that you got to start fresh in a way. You were a bit tired of your old school and wasn’t afraid of change.

The heat blasted from the vents of the car as you wrung your fingers a bit. A hand meets your hand.

“Easy, Y/N. Your wrist finally starting to heal up.”

“I know. Sorry.” you say and the school comes into view.

“I will be here when school lets out. Have a good first day.” they say with a big smile.

You get out after giving your parent a quick hug and you slowly walk towards the building.

You looked at your phone, checking the room number of where your home room was.

Chatters of different students meeting up with their friends were surrounding you and your ears.

Your eyes catch a familiar face. The same boy from the hospital, was leaning against his car. He seemed just as surprised to see you as you.

You continue walking however, you didn’t want to be overbearing.

You kept saying yes to people asking you if you were new. You were a bit tired of the question.

At lunch, people from classes that you did make small talk with, did ask you to sit with them.

When school was over, you walked out to the school lot. You saw the same boy from the hospital. This time, he made an effort to make a small wave. A small smile formed on your lips as you waved back.

“Y/N. Over here!” you hear and you internally groan with embarrassment.

“I know what your car looks like.” you say as you close the car door. They only laugh.

The next day, you walk to the school stairs, you slipped on the patch of ice.

A hand catches you and your heart race. You steady your knees and you look up to find the same boy.

“Thanks.” you say and he nods with a tight grin.

You start to walk away.

“You never told me your name.” he says.

“You never told me yours.” you reply back as you look back at him.

Names were then exchanged.

Edward was his name.

You both began to walk side to side.

“How long have you been playing?” he asks with interest.

“Since I gained consciousness.” you say with a small laugh. It was true. You don’t remember the first lessons, you just remember always having to go. His small laugh sounded a bit like bell chimes. It made you prolong your eye contact with him.

“What about you? You seem to be the expert.” you say.

“A very long time.”

“What’s a long time?” you playfully challenge.

You watch as his eyebrows furrow, as he continues to walk.

“What’s wrong…?” you ask slowly in slight confusion.

Shaking his head slightly, you both stop at the classroom you were supposed to go in, “Nothing…I would like to hear you play sometime.”

“Really? Well some time next week I should be good.” you say as you raise your wrists and you walk in the classroom. As you sat down, you realize that he was still standing at the same spot you left him in. It wasn’t until you were fully seated, you see him walk away.

A teacher asks you if you could take some paperwork to the office. You accept since your class work is completed.

You walk in the office and find that Edward is murmuring to the woman at the front desk.

“Here you go.” you say and Edward turns around. The woman thanks you and tells him with apologetic intentions, “It’s January, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Cullen.”

You watch as he has a wave of frustration be painted on his face.

You held the door open for him as you exit out.

“Cullen…So, your dad is Dr. Cullen?” you observe and ask.

“Yes.” he answered. You both walk as if there isn’t a rush to get to anywhere.

“He’s nice.” you comment.

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard that.” he says.

“So..The blonde girl is your girlfriend?”

“No. She’s my sister.”

“Oh. Sorry.” you say sheepishly.

“It’s alright.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time she’s heard that.” he says with a grin that makes you return it.

“So…How many siblings do you have?”

“Two brothers and two sisters.”

“Eventful.” you say and enter back into the classroom.

“How was school?” your parent asks you over dinner.

“It was fine.”

“Any new friends?”

“A couple. The people and the teachers there are nice.” you say as you look at your food.

“That’s good.”

“I didn’t know Dr. Cullen’s son went to this high school.”

“You met him?”

“Yeah. He’s nice too.” you say.

“The entire family keeps to themselves I heard.”

You nod at that.

You were in the middle of reading a book.

“No class this period?”

You look up and Edward is peering down at you as you sat in a chair in the school library, being immersed in the plot.

“Study hall.” you say.

He nods.

“What about you?”

“Free period.” he says as he sits in a seat that’s close to yours.

“Oh.” you say and close your book.

You look at him. “You know, I meant to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asks as he searched your face.

“You have unique eyes. Is it some type of…Condition or something?”

“….I guess you can say that….Yeah..It’s a condition.”

“Oh. Do you want to dive into that?” you ask.

“I prefer not. Is that alright?”

“Fine by me.”

“How did you mess up your wrist?”

You chuckle a bit before answering.

“Trampoline.”

It was his turn to match your chuckle.

“That’s interesting.”

“Yeah well…That’s what happened over the summer. Man, I was pissed. I was crying, not because of the pain, but because I couldn’t use both hands to play piano.” you say.

“Did you still use one hand?”

“Yeah. It’s boring though.” you say with a slight frown.

“Which wrist?”

You extend it.

“This one.”

You didn’t expect him to close his hand around it. His hands were cold, but it felt nice, like an ice pack. You’ve been using it to exercise it, so the cool sensation helped. In sync, you both lean in.

“Are you used to the cold? And snow?”

“Yeah. You?” you ask.

“Yeah. It’s my favorite time of the year.”

“Same. No annoying bugs.” you answer back.

He grins as he looked down at your wrist.

“Have you ever broken or sprained a bone before?” you ask.

“No.” he says.

“Aren’t you lucky.” you comment.

“I am.” he says and the bell rings.

You walk the halls to lunch, you find that the brunette girl from the hospital also went to the same school.

She looked at you only for a second before looking away.

In history, the teacher announced a project. You all had to pick a time period out of a bin, write in a journal and pretend to be someone who is living in the time period.

“Fun.” you said under your breath, you thought it was interesting.

A small journal was passed out, the teacher allowed you and others to work in groups if you wanted.

You started writing down your year in your journal.

“Are you working with someone?”

You look up to a familiar boy in the class. He was quiet, but sat in the back from the times you’ve been in this class.

You shake your head.

“Do you mind if we work together?”

“I don’t mind.” you say in a small voice.

As he sat down, he scoots his chair a bit away from you, but his presence was friendly enough that you didn’t feel offended, you felt a wave of calmness, you didn’t feel nervous like you thought you would be.

Smiling softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak in class.” you say.

He shrugged with his own quiet smile.

“What year did you get?” you ask.

“The 1980’s.” he says with a roll of his eyes, “What about you?”

“1860’s.” you say sharing your distaste for the year you had to do, with a roll of your own eyes. You quickly saw a sparkle in his eye.

“What? You think this time period was interesting?” you ask. He nods a bit.

“So much history happened within that time frame.” he said with certainty.

“At least the 80’s were fun. Big hair, good music, and colorful vibes.” you say as you thought of music videos.

“It was alright.” he says but clears his throat, “I’m a bit old fashioned. I don’t really care to learn much about that time period but it looks like I have to.”

“Yeah.” you say as you look at him.

“So. Have any trouble?” he asks.

“The heck did people do for fun back then?” you say. You wanted to snooze.

“Play games, read, gamble on horse races.” he lists.

“How do you know so much?” you ask as you doodle spirals on the edge of your paper to kill time.

“I guess you can say I’m a history geek.”

You laugh a little, “What’s your name?”

Jasper.

As the bell rang to leave, “Pray for me. Hopefully I won’t fall asleep while writing.” you say jokingly.

A small laugh escaped his throat, “You will be fine…You can always ask me questions..”

“Cool. See you…Around?”

He nods once as a small and petite girl skips to his side. She brightly shined her sparkling smile at you.

“Hi.” she greets.

You wave.

“You’re new right?”

You nod.

“When did you move here?”

“A little last week.” you answer. She grins as she nods in acknowledgment. Her energy was high. You felt it was a bit contagious as you couldn’t help feel the excitement rubbing off on you.

“Do you like it here?” she asks as you walk. She hugged Jasper’s arm as you all walk the hallway.

“It’s been good to me so far.” you say.

You all three talk as you made your way to your last class of the day. Learning the girl’s name you tell her, “Nice to meet you again Alice. See you, Jasper.”

Coming out to the school lot, you see that the rest of Edward’s family is looking at you by their cars.

You then knew who Edward’s siblings were. All expect one. He was muscular and he held the blonde girl close to him.

You felt a bit nervous.

It was the weekend. You were thankful that you got to sleep in.

Pulling out your keyboard, you fiddle with it with your one hand.

You were bored. You missed trying to learn complex notes but you knew that if you forced the fast recovery, you wouldn’t be better.

You scrolled through the website of the music competition. You knew exactly what song you wanted to play. You had to submit a recording.

You didn’t care about the prize money, but just to show off your talents was something that you wanted to do.

The weeks rolled by, you could finally play again. You parent comes home and that’s all they hear, the tinkering of the keyboard and the piano that was in the home.

“When’s your lesson?” they ask as you help them unload groceries.

“Next week. I’ve been practicing.” you say with a grin.

“That’s nice. Fill out for colleges yet?”

That’s when you got quiet.

“Y/N.” they say in a warning tone.

“I’m working on it. I just don’t know what I want to do yet.” you say.

“You were always good with tech. Maybe, do something with math. It’s your highest grade.”

“Ugh, no. I only make sure it’s my highest because it’s important.” you say. They only sigh with a slight shake of their head as they state, “Your time is ticking.”

In lab, you sighed as you mixed substances with your lab partner.

“You’re joining this class?” you heard your teacher ask.

You look up and you almost took your goggles off. Edward looks at you as you looked at him.

“Y/N, you have to weigh it.” your lab partner beside you, tells you, the pen is in their hand and ready to write down the information on the worksheet.

“Right. Sorry.” you say and weigh the concoction in the glass measuring cup.

You watch him join a group, making him the third person.

When class was over, “You’re in this class?” you ask, trying your best to hold your excitement. He was a year below you. You didn’t know why you were excited. You brushed it off as it being happy to see a familiar face.

“Yeah.” he says casually.

“Willingly?” you ask and he nods.

“Jeez, no offense but, do you enjoy suffering?” you ask. You hated that class. Especially lab days. You were glad that the next day was a study hall instead of a double period.

He laughs, “It’s not that bad. I enjoy science.”

You both enter the hall and you place your hands together, “Be my guardian angel?”

“Next report period when it’s time to pick partners, just pick me. You’ll get an easy A.” he says with a slight shrug.

Jasper suggested that you both take turns reading each other’s journals. The due date was the next day.

He did a good job. It made you want to live in the 80’s. For Jasper, it was as if he went through a time machine.

You slide each other your journals back.

“Man, what a ride. I would’ve thought you lived it.” you say. You didn’t miss the flash of happiness. He then makes his face neutral.

“I can say the same.” he says, almost looking proud at your journal.

“I thought you weren’t interested in that time frame?” he continued to ask as if he caught your hand in the cookie jar. You shrug with a smile.

“I’m not. But, you gotta do what you gotta do right?” you reply as gesture the classroom.

He nods at that.

Before you could push the door open to leave the school building, you heard, “Do you have a ride?”

You turn to see Alice.

“Oh, hey. Um…I do.” you say.

She seemed a bit disappointed.

“Well, tomorrow we have a two hour delay. We should come to school together.” she suggests as she picks her mood back up.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “How do you-”

The announcement came on, “A two hour delay is issued for Forks High School, tomorrow morning. Students don’t forget to….”

“Lucky guess. You should be gambler or something.” you say. She laughs a perfect laugh and links her arm with yours follows you outside.

“So, what do you say? I’ll get you breakfast.” she bribed.

“Oh wow, food? How could I say no?” you ask with a smile.

You still woke up at your usual time, you watched the snowflakes fall fast out of your window. You used the extra time to work the keyboard in your room with your headphones in. Your parent knows you have a way to school, they tell you to let them know if you need a ride back home.

You carefully walk down the steps. Edward leans against the car. You had to be careful with your steps as you observed the snowflakes that fell perfectly on him. You look away to not seem rude or weird. He closes the car door after you get in. Jasper and Alice is in the backseat.

“He was just standing out there like it isn’t freezing.” you say to them and they laugh as they looked at each other.

“I told you, it’s my favorite time of the year.” he says with a grin as he worked the steering wheel.

“You’re crazy, Edward.” you comments as you put your hands to the vents that blew out hot air.

“I know.” you heard him say.

People stared as you got out of the car. You didn’t know why. Your stomach was full from the breakfast that was in fact paid for by Alice. You had to fight with her to not be so sharing but she prevailed, saying she was keeping her promise.

“Uh.. Why are people staring?” you whispered to Edward as he walked close to you. Jasper had his arm around Alice.

“They just want to know how and why you’re around us.” he says with a lax expression.

Walking through the metal detectors and picking your bag back up.

“How do you know?” you ask.

“We stay to ourselves. Never felt the need to make new friends.” he explains as Jasper and Alice waved goodbye to you both.

After waving, you turn your head as you walk, “So, I’m the chosen one?” you say with a joking tone.

“That’s..One way to put it.” he says.

“So, answer their question. Why me?” you ask as you stop at your locker, placing your wet coat inside.

He leans next to the locker that’s beside you, “You don’t want friends?”

“Whatever.” you say with a light laugh, “If I don’t recall, you talked to me first.”

“I did?” he asks but you knew that he knew.

You shoot him a look.

“I still want to hear you play. It’s been more than a week.” he says.

With a slight smile as you look ahead of you as you walk, “You’ve been keeping count?”

“Call me excited. I want to see what you got.”

“Cool, I’ll send you a video when I get the chance.” you say and try to go into the classroom but a hand gently grasp your sweater covered arm. You look to him.

“In person.”

“Oh….Okay.” you say and you hesitantly walk in your classroom.

Your mind was on the thought of playing piano in front of Edward. You wondered how. Would he come over to your house? Would you go over his house? You immediately shook the thought out of your head. He already told you that him and his siblings really don’t bring people around them. But, you couldn’t help but wonder in your brain, “I wonder what made me the exception?”

“Y/N?”

You snap out of your thoughts. You clear your throat as the teacher and classroom was silent, waiting for your answer.

You look down on your worksheet and speak out an answer.

“Very good.” the teacher says and moves on.

Your class took notes in science, it didn’t help that you could see Edward from across the room. You didn’t know how it was possible for one to be so non sociable.

You sat sideways on the comfy library chair. It was in the back, the history section.

“Wait…You said you had two sisters. Who’s the brunette?” you ask in a bored tone, fidgeting idly with the book on one of the shelves.

“Bella Swan. She’s not related to us.”

“Oh. Your friend.”

Chuckling as he looked at his hands, “She’s not my friend.”

You look about. He watches you.

You sit up straighter, feeling slightly nervous under his gaze, “Something’s fishy.”

“What do you mean?” he asks in a stoic tone.

“Are you….” you sigh. He’s patient. You look down before looking up, “Are you and your siblings like….Blood related?”

He opens his mouth but you speak, “Sorry. That was rude. Damn.” you say.

“We are not.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t you want to ask something else?”

“Is it obvious?” you ask and he nods.

“Well….” you say and look at him in the eye before looking at his fabric covered chest, “Are you all…Adopted?”

“Yes.”

You look at him.

“So….” you sigh and shake your head and he asks, “What?”

You sigh a bit before giving him a nervous smile, “I see how Alice and Jasper act towards….Each other…I’m not judging but…”

“Yes. They’re dating.”

“Oh.” you say as you swallow and grab a book off of instinct.

“Are you weirded out?” he asks. He didn’t seem uncomfortable. He simply asked.

You open and close it as you look down. “Yeah.”

“Many are.”

“Like I said, who am I to be someone’s judge?” you propose.

He doesn’t say anything after that.

At lunch, you chewed slowly. You looked up a couple of times at Jasper’s table. The blonde girl and the brawny boy who was their brother. They all three glanced your way and you felt small in a way. But, you look back to what the person next to you at the table was saying.

You wondered if the other brother played a sport, but he didn’t hang out with the guys who were on actual teams.

The history teacher turns on a movie and makes everyone write down answers for the worksheet.

You were thankful for the distraction.

Pulling your coat out, you hear your name.

You turn around, to find Edward standing there.

You look.

“Do you have any plans after school?”

You rack your brain, but it’s been such a relaxed day, that homework was done.

“Um…” you say and you immediately think of your keyboard that you left on your bed.

“Honestly I’m just trying to get home and relax.”

He blinked at your answer.

Alice then bounces in your view.

“Hey, you.” she says with a smile.

“Oh. Hey. Thanks so much for this morning. That really meant a lot.” you say.

She touched your arm with a grin.

“Come on, ride back with us.” she persuades.

“Oh…”

“We have a piano at our house.” she says.

“You did that on purpose.” you say with a small laugh as you close your locker and start to walk.

“What?” she asks.

“I wanted to go home and relax and here you are bribing me once again.” you say.

At your side, “Carlisle says that your wrists are way better.” Alice chirped.

“Who’s that?” you ask dripping in confusion.

“Sorry..Our father.”

You never thought to call your parent by their first name like that. But you still didn’t judge.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m just using my keyboard for right now.” you say as you walk out the school doors.

“Well.. Our piano is huge. You should see it. Maybe play for us.” she says as you walk down the school stairs.

“Hmm…” you say with dramatic sarcasm.

“Please?” she dragged on.

“You guys act like I’m a special composer or something.” you say as you look at both Alice and Edward.

“We’re parked over here.” Alice grabs your hand.

On a doctor’s salary, there was just no way. You subtly peered around the home.

The parents. They looked so vibrant. So youthful. Dr. Cullen almost shined as he stood next to his smiling wife.

“Hi, Dr. Cullen.” you say.

Esme was the mother’s name.

“I like your name.” you compliment. She seemed touched and complimented yours back.

“Carlisle is okay. I already know who you are Y/N.” he says in a friendly tone.

Shrugging your coat off, it’s taken out of your hands as Edward placed a hand on your shoulder.

You saw it. You silently let your jaw drop. You walk out from under Edward’s hand.

It sat tall and strong. It was grand. It was shiny as if it was newly purchased. You thought you were dreaming. You could almost hear it whispering your name.

“Oh my gosh.” you whisper.

“What is it?” You hear Esme ask.

“This piano….Do you mind if I-“

“Of course. Yes. Please do.” she says, almost excited as you.

You sit at the bench.

Edward was immediately near you and if you weren’t so distracted, you would’ve wondered how he had gotten there so fast.

With a smile that made your cheeks sore, your fingers pressed down on the keys with precision. Your foot tapped the pedal as music filled the living room. You stop your tiny concert short as you felt that you were overstaying your company.

“Why did you stop?” you collectively heard.

“Sorry..I didn’t know..” you say and you rise from the bench, feeling a bit sheepish from the attention.

The blonde that had her arms crossed looked at the area you were in, with slight interest. She reminded you of an ice queen.

“So. Whats the new rank?” the boy who was brawny spoke up. His voice was deep and displayed a smirk.

The blonde taps the back of her hand onto his chest with a clenched jaw. He looked at her with slight apologetics.

Edward chuckled next to you.

Emmett.

You knew off of the top, he knew how to liven up a room.

“Rank of what?” you ask.

“Nothing. Ignore him.” the blonde says snappily.

Rosalie.

Emmett and Rosalie reminded you of Jasper and Alice in a way. You didn’t want to ask questions, but you couldn’t stop the questions from coming inside of your brain.

“You’re talented.” Esme says to you without drawing attention.

You show sincere appreciation.

You held and read his music sheets as you sat on his couch. His room was spacious. He invited you up as he could tell you weren’t going to touch the piano anymore.

Edward let you take the lead in the conversation. Allowing you to talk about yourself and what you want to do passionately.

“A competition?” he asks with interest. You only nod as you sat his sheets down.

“So. When am I going to see you play?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment before peering at the floor for a moment.

“Soon.”

“I’m keeping you to your word.” you say.

“Please do.”

[spikeface]

Theo & der Soldat

Still thinking about the fact that Theo instantly recognizes Douglas, despite the fact that der Soldat looked very different when he was in a tube of magical goo. 

Even stranger, Douglas immediately recognizes Theo.

When the two of them finally have a moment alone together, they speak, in my humble opinion, like they’ve spoken before (6x07):

THEO: Have you been here the whole time?

DOUGLAS: How could I stay away?

THEO: Maybe you should tell them who you really are... Hauptmann.

So when did they talk?

I like to think that at some point, years before Theo comes back to Beacon Hills, the Doctors decide that der Soldat might be more useful in a different way. They get him out of the tube, make sure he can’t go anywhere, and then proceed with their experiments.

Which leaves a let’s-say-12-year-old Theo to babysit a furious Nazi German alpha werelion from the 1940s. 

It’s a mess at first. Theo’s used to strangers in the lab, but it’s usually kids, and they’re always easy to quiet. The stranger is loud. Theo has no idea what he’s saying. He yells and yells until Theo breaks out the kanima venom, the same way the Doctors used to do with him. That finally shuts the stranger up.

Eventually, the stranger starts to ask about things. Slowly, he learns English, while Theo learns German.

“Hauptmann,” says the man, when Theo tells him his own name. Theo learns enough German to know that’s not a name, but whatever. He doesn’t care about this guy’s fancy titles. The real power is the ability to leave the labs, which only Theo has. 

The soldier calls him boy, but Theo doesn’t mind that either, after the way the Doctors only call him Theo Raeken, like he’s one of their Latin ingredients.

Once the man learns to speak English, he talks a lot.

It’s nice. He’s probably the safest things in the lab: always tied up, regularly monitored by the Doctors, and clearly aware of the fact that anything he wants has to come through Theo. He’s funny, sometimes. Sarcastic. He learns things quickly. He lets Theo teach him what the modern world is like. They watch cartoons together on Theo’s fancy new iPhone, Hauptmann eating Apple Jacks, Theo’s favorite cereal. Hauptmann says it’s disgusting but he always finishes his bowl. He laughs at the cartoons.

Hauptmann teaches Theo what he knows: mainly how to kill people, and also a little bit of 1940s physics.

He’s not a bad teacher. Theo tells him so.

“Before the war, I teached children,” says Hauptmann, the first thing he’s mentioned about his personal life.

"Taught,” Theo corrects, pleased with himself.

“Taught,” Hauptmann agrees.

Eventually, he confesses that his goal is still to run away. Theo scoffs. The Doctors can find anyone, anywhere. They don’t like loose ends and there’s no way to sense them coming. It’s no use. 

“You need more ambition,” Hauptmann chides. “There are forces in this world more powerful than them.”

“Like what?”

Hauptmann explains about the Wild Hunt. “It comes, it goes. There’s no stopping it. And I have a personal connection to the Ghost Riders.”

“What’s stopping you from calling them, then?”

“This place.” Hauptmann gestures to the labs. “It’s protected from electricity. The Doctors are afraid.”

Theo likes the sound of that. He’s never seen the Doctors afraid of anything. 

He does more research. The Ghost Riders can’t be controlled, he learns, but it’s possible to become one.

It’s not ideal. They look sort of gross, nothing like the perfect pack he was promised when he joined the Doctors. But it’s been years of nothing, with them. Theo can settle.

“I’ll help you get out of here,” he proposes warily, the next time the Doctors are gone, “and then you call the Wild Hunt.”

It’s risky, but Theo’s minimized the risk: all Hauptmann has to do is what he wants to do anyway, and Theo benefits. It’s a good plan. 

And him and Hauptmann are friends, sort of. Theo’s been nice to him. Apple Jacks and everything. That has to count for something.

Hauptmann agrees. 

Theo undoes his chains.

Hauptmann’s hands are instantly around his neck. Red eyes glare down at him viciously. Even a real beta probably couldn’t fight him off. Theo’s got no chance.

He’s going to die here.

Until suddenly, Hauptmann’s being hauled back by the Pathologist, while the Geneticist injects him with something. The Surgeon supervises as they drag him back to the vat.

Theo stands, coughing painfully, and watches Hauptmann kick and scream. Fuck him.

He turns more nervously to the Surgeon. The guy’s not gonna be happy about this. Things could get really bad.

But it’s useless to run.

Except, all that happens is that the Surgeon stares down at him with that clinical eye and rasps, “Failure is its own punishment.”

Then he turns away.

Theo is left with a slowly healing throat, a discomfiting gratitude for the Doctors, and a newfound commitment to getting the perfect pack--on his own, if the Doctors won’t help. Fuck settling.

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 13

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Chapter summary: Past. Dolly is a part of a family. Present. Seeing Stevie

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

a/n: PAST is a short chapter. the floor of the next few chapters is.... bad?? so im trying to chop it all up the way its best but its so hard trying ot match themes up with the before and after ;-; so im sorry. I feel like this chapter was boring.

Before

You tried, he really fucking tried to go back to normal after that, but ever since kissing you, feeling you body… things became more charged than normal.

You sat closer to him now, his body warm and inviting and buzzing with energy with everyone piling into the media room to watch a movie. Earlier today, Remy came into your room while you taught, trying to rally everyone together for a movie night.

*

You hear the door creek and glance over, smiling when you see Remy’s black and red eyes popping through the cracked door. Waving him in, you continue with the lesson. At 6’1 but not built too wide, Remy would not be out of place in your height school class seats…

Unfortunately, he was sitting in on your small elementary class.

Most mutations manifest with puberty, but some, especially second generation mutants, have the x gene activated much earlier. Your class was small, small enough you usually had to figure out how to teach content at 3 different grades at the same time… You couldn’t have a whole class just for the one 1st grader. When Remy came in, you were getting ready to read a book. You explained that each of the grades would have an assignment based off the book, and what each grade should be thinking about during the book, but to try and concentrate on the story first and foremost.

“I’ll be doing a think-aloud, so I will be modeling to you how readers think through books as we go.” You don’t have any degree, but you've been doing research on how to be an effective teacher.

Remy listened intently, looking like he’s about to REALLY enjoy the story, but you have some mercy. His legs look like they are losing circulation.

“Okay friends, how about we read the book on the carpet.” The kids erupted into cheers. “IF we can show Mr. LeBeau out best quiet feed and listening ears, okay?”

It was not very quiet, but they didn’t run.

“Mr. Lobo!” Said Micheal, not watching where he was going. “Are you and Miss Palmer in wuv?”

Remy bursts out in laughter, while your face burns red, quickly apologizing to Remy and trying to quell the kids. 

“No!” Another kid, Katy, piped up. “She loves Mr. Howlett!”

Remy was no help, your handful of students arguing that you were in love with “Mr. LeBeau”, “Mr. Howlett”, “Mr. Summers” and even one kid asked about “Miss Grey”, which felt like the start of a very convoluted love… square?

“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!”

The children chimed back. “1, 2, eyes on you.”

“Okayyyy” You cleared your throat. “You guys don’t need to worry about who loves who. Me and Mr. LeBeau are just friends, and he is going to model good listening for me.”

30 minutes later, Remy did not model good listening, but he did at least help the younger kids with their assignment, so there was that.

“You’re a pain, you know that?” You tidy up before heading to the high school English room. This room was used for most subjects so the elementary school so most of your kids just stayed in the room coloring or reading or talking.

“A pain in your ass?” He whispered, and you gasped in response, smacking him with crumple cardboard paper.

“Hey! I whispered!” But he stopped swearing. “I wanna have a movie night with all of us, are you in?”

As much fun as it sounded, big groups of friends still made you nervous. Remy was friends with everyone, and although no one had treated you badly, there were people you knew still thought you were weird. They weren’t wrong. Moreso, it was hard with a large group of people who all were friends together. Then there was you. Last week's dance was enough for a little while. “Whose all coming?”

“Well, Logan of course, but I think he’s assuming you’ll be there.” He answered, and smirked at your little smile. “Kurt and Ororo said yes, Hank said maybe, you know how he gets caught up in his work, and I’m gonna invite Scott and Jean after you tell me yes because you love me so much????”

Your head sank a little at that. You liked Scott a lot, and Jean was always kind to you. You had no reason to dislike them…

“I don’t… I don’t think I can make it. Papers to grade and all that…”

Remy’s face crumbled. “Why? What? Too many people? I’ll uninvite everyone!!  I’ll grade all the papers! Pistache, you’re the one I actually want there!”

You don’t know what to do with that. You knew Remy loved you, and that he was your good friend, but you weren’t used to someone choosing you first.

“It’s just… Well, don’t uninvite people, that’s crazy.”

“But I want you to come! What is it?”

He was too loud, some of the kids were trying to eavesdrop (nosy little things. You loved ‘em.) so you pull him off to the side, talking quieter. 

“It’s just… Scott…”

Remy frowned at that, a little concern on his face. “What, has he given you problems? I thought he’d be understanding, knowing he knows what you-” But then he stops himself.

You almost missed it. Pinching your brows, you shake your head, “N-no, Remy, he’s fine- he- it’s Logan and Scott, Remy, come on. The fight?”

He relaxed. “Oh. Well, aren’t they over it?”

Over it? You don’t think they’d ever be over it. There was never friendship, never something to rebuild, only jealousy, anger, and a little bit of attempted murder. 

You sigh, pinching your brow. “Remy. Logan tried to kill him. Scott keeps accusing him of abusing me. Logan slept with his wife. Scott accused him of m-o-l-e-s-t-i-n-g Rogue”

“Wait, what?”

“I can’t expect them to get along. And if Jean’s in the mix I- Remy, why would you want to invite all three of them?? Are you trying to start another fight?” The tone was harsher than you wanted it to be, but you’d had an intense week, and he gave you a piece of information you weren’t sure what to do with.

Your friend in front of you completely deflated, his normally happy face falling and his red eyes looking down. “Yeah, you’re right… I didn't think it through…”

You instantly felt bad. How could you be so mean to Remy? Sweet, sweet Remy? Remy who’d been there for you though it all. “I know. You’re friends with everyone, so you want everyone to be friends. I get it. I’m sorry.”

Remy gives you a small smile, seemingly recovered. “It’s alright, Pistache. What if I just don’t tell Scott and Jean? Or we could just watch something together? I uh… I heard from Rogue today. Got a letter and it… wasn’t very long, is all. Bit worried she’s forgotten about me in her grand adventures.” He gives a little laugh, but it’s nervous.

You consider the people coming, and decide it’s a small enough group. And Logan will be there, so you won’t be alone.

“Yeah, the movie sounds fun. Thanks for inviting me, Remy.”

*

You leaned against Logan, snuggled up to him comfortably as everyone found their spots. Kurt poofs in front of the large TV, see’s you in Logan’s arms, and his yellow eyes light up. “YAYYYYYY! Darauf habe ich gewartet!!” He teleports to you and Logan, squeezing both your cheek, poofing onto Logans shoulders to hug his whole head, then to behind the couch where he gave you a hug that clearly respected your personal space stuff.

“What are you on about, elf?” Logan pretends to be grumpy, but other than Wade, Kurt is his best friend.

He’s standing in front of you two again, grinning wildly and you can see his sharp teeth. “You two!” He gestures. “I’ve been knowing something is going on between you! Liebe, nein? I’m so happy it had finale happened!”

Morph threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Nothings happened yet. They are in denial.”

“We’re not in denial!” Logan barks, but he’s blushing. “We’re just…” he looks at you. “Taking it slow…”

“Oh.” Kurt’s shoulders drop. “Then… wat eez all dis?” He gestures to Logan’s arm around your shoulder.

You giggle. “Well, like he said, we’re not in denial.”

Kurt observes you for a second. “Mph. Well, dis eez… embarrassing for me, ja?”

You were about to protest when when Remy throw a pillow at him, yelling something about sitting down and shutting up. Kurt BAMF’d away, and reappeared on the armrest next to Logan.

“Dis guy.” Kurt gestures to Remy, whispering a little too loud. “Get’s broken up with vone time and he’s a mess.” He shimmers down between the arm rest and Logan, forcing the wide older man to scoot himself and you over, muttering, ‘well excuse me, I guess.’. Kurt settles into his spot opposite you, next to Logan. “Meanvile, I get broken up with, MANY TIMES! Including by him, and wat do I get!”

“We weren’t dating!”

“But you like to say I love you during sex, no? Oh, Kurt! Mo linm twa!” he mimicked, but the humor was in his voice, as it was in Remy’s as he retorts.

“At least I don’t pray the Hail Mary after sex!”

“At least I know the Hail Mary”

“I’m Cajun, do you really think I don’t know basic catholicism?”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just have catholic guilt about.”

“You could use a little guilt, mein freund.”

“I’ll leave that to Scott.”

Hank slaps the armrest of his seat. “If we’re not actually going to watch a movie-”

Remy and Kurt laugh, and Remy starts the movie.

As you watched, you couldn’t help think about how good life had gotten. A peaceful, easy feeling comes over you as you listen to Kurt and Remy whisper to each other the whole time, Logan telling them to ‘shut the hell up or I will stab you.’ Morph loudly booing the cheesy sex scene, and Hank letting all of us know what is impossibly and unrealistic in the movie. Things were good.

There was, however, a gnawing piece of your mind… it reminded you what Remy said. Scott knows. Scott knows what you’ve been through… or what you’ve done, you didn’t let Remy finish.

You’d figured Charles had told Scott at least a baseline of what you’d experienced. Scott was his man on the ground, the one who had these day to day interactions with you, the staff, the teens. It made sense, and you didn’t expect the top teacher and school leadership (and basically the HR department) to NOT know one of his staff was severely traumatized. 

You’d JUST told Logan what you’d done. You’d told Remy last month. You just wanted them and Mr. Xavier to know… had he gone and told Scott you were a killer? Did people other than Scott know?

After

Jean was all ready at the table when Logan brought you in, gently laying you down on the bed for Jean to examine.

“What happened?” She asked, frowning as she looked at your slightly bloodied face. The cabinet hit your forehead and nose.

Logan began to answer. “She hit her face on-”

“I was asking Miss Palmer.”

Scowling, Logan shut his mouth. “I… I slipped on water cleaning up from the party. My face hit the cabinet.”

“Did you fall?”

“No, I caught myself. Or- I think Logan caught me? It’s kinda hard to remember.” It was fuzzy, honestly. You’d thought he hit you, the ghost of the slap still stinging your cheeks… but that was probably something else.

“Yeah, I caught you.” He strokes your cheek, soothing the leftover pain there.

Jean does her work, informing you that you were mildly concussed.

“You’ll need to rest. No work for a few days minimum.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “No repeats of when you got sick and refused to tell anyone until you passed out. You’re going to take off the rest of this week.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she points a finger with a slight smile. She’s tired, but her bedside manner is compassionate. “No. We can shuffle a few things around. Wade can take over a few simple classes while he’s here and move those teachers to your kids, and Hank can easily slide back into teaching English. Well, maybe high school and middle. I can handle the littles.”

She turned to Logan.

“Logan, I don’t think we can get you off that long, but we’ll get you off a few classes so you can look after her. I’m sure Wade will be happy to teach gym, and Professor can take on history. Next week is finals anyway, so I know you guys have a lot of study periods planned.” She touches your shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

You nod, but there’s a more pressing issue. “And Stevie?”

Jean smiles. “He’s doing fine. Don’t take aspirin as it could cause bleeding but tylenol is okay for your head pain. Stay hydrated, nothing caffeinated.” She types everything up for you, then prints it out. “Here’s a care plan, but know I’m right here if you need me.” 

“Thanks, Jean.”

Logan gave a nod. “Yeah, thank you. I know you were in bed.”

She closed up her laptop. “Not a problem. Now, I know you’re seeing a regular doctor, and that’s okay… but I thought… if you’d like, I could share what I saw when I checked on Stevie.

You blink. “You mean… like an ultrasound?”

“Kind of, but much more clear. It’ll be almost like you’re there with hi-”

“Yes!” You’re so excited you almost forget any fear or pain.

Logan nods his head, eyes wide, and takes Logan’s hand before laying her other one on your stomach again. Suddenly, her mind’s eye was your own, and you could see him. You little baby asleep in your stomach, and it was like he was in a pool of water; not quite totally clear, but not blurry either. It was incredible.

You begin to cry.

“Go get your girl to bed, Logan.”

*

Logan laid you down on to bed after having you drink a bunch of water. “Wake me up when you need to pee, okay?”

You don’t look at him. “Okay.”

There is a short pause. “Hey.” Logan cups your face, bringing it to you. “It was an accident, okay? Just an accident.”

And all you can do is give him a smile, because you don’t know what option you have. “I know. I’m kinda tired, Lo. Can we talk in the morning?”

He gave a sad smile back. “Yeah dollface, we’ll talk in the morning. You’ll see. It’s all be better in the morning. I’m gonna step out for a sec, but I promise I’ll be here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Goodnight, baby doll.” He kisses your tummy. “Goodnight, Stevie.”

*

Logan’s head was reeling. How did that happen? What the hell even happened? He hurt you, he hurt you, his pregnant fiance, his sweet, loving girl, carrying his child. What if something had happened to Stevie? Jean said he was fine…. But what the fuck did she know? Nothing! That bitch and her smug attitude. Stupid fucking cunt. She was probably just lying, trying to sabotage him. Not wanting to have his baby wasn’t enough. She can’t let him be happy. She won’t let anyone else have his baby. She’s just as bad as Scott, stupid mother fucking pansy ass shithead. Couldn’t fuck his wife right then got mad she needed someone else to satisfy her. Must’ve learned how to take it up the ass like he’s always dreamed and won her back, now he can’t let him be happy.

They are out to get him.

Logan needed to clear his head. He needed to let it out.

He needed insight from someone who, while being God perfect idiot, had a strangely good sense of the world. Sure, he didn’t understand what the fuck the mouth was talking about half the time, but Wade understood the world in a way Logan couldn’t.

When Wade answered his door, he was in a hello kitty t-shirt. That was it.

Logan only paused a moment before saying. “Meet me in the west lounge in 5?”

“Hell yay!” Wade sleepily cheered. “I’m on my way!” He began stepping forward, but Logan stuck a hand out to shove him back, He glanced down to his dick, then back up. “Pants on, Wade.”

*

An hour later, Logan had spilled it all. The slap, the… sex he might have been a little forceful on, how Stevie’s conception was from that… half drunk, he let it all out.

And for once, the merc with the mouth only had 4 things to say.

“Jesus fucking christ, Logan.”

Okay, next chapter we see logan baring it all and i think??? I think we see what triggered logan into the assult

ugh its soooo hard to plan i keep changing the outline so much. This series has given me the most problems out of every series ive written! and ive written many ;-;

Anyway guys im talking to a guy and he knows x men stuff and is chronically online like me and i realllllly like him we met on hinge bc he made a Jim Croce reference which if you know me you know i looooove old music!!! heres too hoping!

I sent him my x men restaurant au bc he's familiar with fanfiction! he really enjoyed it :))) Im taking requests for the restaurant au drabbles!

I also started a romcom/omegaverse/enemies to lovers Logan x reader! Im leaning into the goofy and silly bc too much dark i think isnt good. dark fics help me work through things but too much is.... too much. Im not in a great place mentally rn so i dont wanna linger you know?

I also want to just highlight my go fund me bc im once again struggling greatly to pay for school and im just... so close .;-;

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

[overheard-on-base]

October again, pouring one out for Trevor, we miss you man

[beloveds-embrace]

Ask for the dukedom poly 141!

How did it started for all of them to get together? Any specific details? Who fell for whom first? Did it start as just sex? Is it still just sex? Or some kind of deep feelings? Some brutal men type of love wich could be soften with Reader's delicate tenderness? I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING! Please please please?

Part one

It started first with Kyle and John! They grew up together, and had all their firsts together despite the age difference because their fathers often worked together despite Kyle’s family being commoners, and by the time John became a Duke, Kyle had also befriended and slept with Johnny and was just finishing his own training- recently moved in from the neighbouring country an the attraction between them had been apparent from the very start.

Up until that point, Kyle and John hadn’t put a label on what they had; they just knew they loved the other, and slept together in more ways than one. Johnny and Kyle started out as just sex, but Johnny took his mother’s natural socialness and would still drag Kyle with him to the family bakery they’d opened up.

Johnny meets John through Kyle, and it’s that same spark of attraction once again- except Kyle joins them, obviously, too. That same spark and yet another thing that tastes just as sweet as the desserts Johnny makes and helps his parents sell.

Even now, they don’t put a label on it. They can’t, even if they wanted to. John is meant to marry a good woman who will give him an heir and they are commoners. It was never meant to be but they don’t care.

John then becomes a Duke, and as is tradition he enlists in the empire’s military to prove his loyalty and show his Dukedome’s strength. Right before he leaves, he hires both Kyle and Johnny. The night before he is set to leave is one they spend entirely awake.

It’s during his time in the military thag John meets fellow Duke Simon, whose attitude is cold and stoic yet no one can deny his strength. John is among the few who are unafraid or unbothered by his attitude.

Saving one another (John refuses to leave any man behind and Simon refuses to leave any debts unpaid), deep in the trenches and with so much tension and stress, a few fucks would honestly boost morale.

Except Simon doesn’t do anything half-assed and John is a sucker for this surly bastard and well. He knows Simon fits Kyle and Johnny’s types too.

Once he and Simon are finished with their mandatory enlisting, John takes up the rest of his duties and ignores the need for a wife even if rumors swirl. And just as he predicted, his men do get along very well. He’s happy with his men whom he loves (it took a while to accept that it was truly love, but it’s undeniable) and the last thing he wants to add into his house is a woman who would no doubt never accept this arrangement and who’d never respect Johnny and Kyle and would drag them all in trouble.

But he can’t push it off for too long, and even Kyle, Johnny, and Simon tell him they _understand_- Simon especially but thankfully most everyone is too scared of him to say anything- and that he should just do it.

That’s when you come in; sweet, precious you who don’t threaten them with anything when you find out, and who are nice to all of them even when John knows some newspapers have started calling you barren. Soft, precious you who John also accepts as his own, and he knows, just watching you interact with them, you are what would soften and sweeten this relationship more. You are perfect for them, and when he hears about Graves and you? John knows he can’t just sit back anymore.

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aegon x niece! reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter) smut please! Aegon has always been in love with her and manages to convince Alicent and Viserys to let him marry her. The reader is just as in love and when they get married, thwir wedding night is full of love and passion and 🫦. Aegon hugging her tight while fucking her and reader whimpering and moaning in his ear 🤌🏽

I received so many requests these past days and got inspiration for a lot of them (14!!), so expect more very soon <3 I'm trying to include everything (smut, angst, action)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p + v, loss of virginity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your eyes couldn’t stray from Aegon. Blood was dripping slowly from his bottom lip after being cut after being cut and smeared on his forehead. His frizzy hair had been tamed and the cold of his clothes made the blue of his eyes stand out. 

A dagger was handed to you to cut your palm with. You hissed slightly, watching as blood seeped out. You held your hand away from your pretty dress, not wishing to dirty it with blood, then passed the dagger to Aegon who did the same. He clasped his hand with yours, your blood mingled together as a blood silk was wrapped over your joined hands. 

Queen Alicent wanted Aegon to marry following the Faith of the Seven, but he insisted on Valyrian tradition as the bond by blood was unbreakable. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time or darkness and light,’’ the officiant said, reading from an old book. 

Aegon could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t wait to call you his wife, to walk around court with your arm looped around his. And to no longer have a chaperon following you everywhere. It was so annoying. The only times you were able to be alone together was when you would elope on your dragons. 

If your parents thought a chaperon would stop you from sharing kisses and letting your hands wander to places they should not be, they were mistaken. 

The officiant finally allowed you to kiss, and every part of Aegon ached to shove his tongue into your mouth and kiss the life out of you in front of everyone. But he restrained himself, settling for a kiss that would be just enough to make your cheeks flush. 

When the ceremony came to an end, everyone was bright back to the Keep. You rode a carriage with Aegon and your little brother, Joffrey, which you suspected was a scheme by your parents to make sure no sexual activities would happen in the carriage. 

Aegon's hand was resting on your thigh, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘’This is so frustrating. They really did this on purpose, didn't they?’’ 

‘’It’s not entirely a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to crease or stain my dress before the feast,’’ you said, smoothing the shimmery white fabric of your dress as you fawned over the gold embroideries. You had never seen a more beautiful gown.  

Aegon smiled smugly, thinking back to your last dragon ride together and the kisses you shared in the clearing…and his hand that slipped into your riding pants. ‘’Little does these fools know, we’ve played them before.’’ Smirking, he leaned in again. ‘’You know what kind of effect you have on me, wearing that dress. Especially knowing what's underneath.’’ He gave your thigh a little squeeze, his hand starting to move upwards just for a moment.

You quickly covered his hand with your own, stopping him. ‘’Stop it. Not here.’’ 

You looked over and saw Joffrey sitting on the opposite seat. Luckily, the boy was too preoccupied staring out the window to notice anything.

A sigh left your husband’s lips. ‘’I don’t want to wait until tonight. I won’t be able to.’’ 

Thankfully, the journey to the Red Keep was short. The doors to the carriage were opened and Aegon stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you out. He took a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, his gaze hungry. Before he could say anything, you pulled him towards the castle and to the throne room where the festivities would be held. Inside, the room was decked out with gold drapes and beautiful flowers — nothing less for a royal wedding. 

The music began as you and Aegon made your first entrance together, your arm linked to his. He had promised to not let you fall in front of the lord and ladies. The guests cheered as you both made your way down the grand aisle, to the large table where your families stood, waiting for you to begin the feast.

As the night went on, you danced and ate cake and indulged in more wine that you would allow yourself to help with the nerves later. You were dancing with Helaena and laughing when you felt an arm snake around your waist and wet lips on your neck.  

You leaned into Aegon’s chest and Helaena took this as her cue to find another dance partner. 

‘’Do you think they will notice if we leave the festivities early?’’ he whispered in your ear, having enough of this feast and wanting to be alone with you. 

You glanced around, searching for your parents. They seemed all involved in conversations with other lords and ladies, but one last pair of eyes was on you: Otto Hightower. Since he caught you kissing in an alcove when you were five and ten, he had been following you and Aegon like a hawk, disproving of your courtship.  

‘’If you can find a way to escape your grandsire, I’ll follow you,’’ you replied. 

Aegon’s laughter mixed with yours as you were running to Megor’s Holdfast where the royal chambers were. It felt like all the times you slipped away from court together to avoid being caught.  

As soon as the door of Aegon’s chambers closed, his lips were on yours and his hands were all over you, grabbing and pulling with a hunger that made your pulse race. The urgency in his movements left you breathless, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 

Clothes were taken off in haste, allowing your lips to kiss more skin. You threw your head back and moaned softly, nails sinking into Aegon's milky skin as he kissed down your neck and to your bared breasts, giving them the attention he's dreamed of. 

‘’Aegon, please,’’ you whimpered, feeling his erect cock prod at your lower stomach. 

He pressed a last kiss to your nipple and nodded, walking you back to his bed. You crawled up to the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Aegon joined you, hovering over you, and studying your flushed face for a moment, before he bent down to kiss your lips again.

You were thankful that your mother had opposed the humiliation of a bedding ceremony. You would never have been able to relax under the eyes of men standing around the bed, waiting for blood to mark the sheets. 

While you were distracted by his kiss, Aegon moved a hand between your bodies to play with your cunt a little, helping you relax and prepare you for his cock. His girth was larger than the fingers he’s inserted before and he didn’t want to hurt you. 

It would be a lie to say you didn't feel anything when he slid into you. The pain was unlike anything you felt before. Seeing the tears prick in your eyes and your pained face, Aegon was quick to sooth you with sweet words until the pain subsided. 

His first thrusts were slow and overwhelming. It was a kind of pleasure you never experienced before. 

‘’I love you, Aegon,’’ you said, seeing stars when he reached a particular spot.

He kissed you sweetly. ‘’I love you.’’ 

You hugged him tight while he moved his hips, his ears blessed by your whimpers and moans.  

A chill blew from the windows, refreshing the warm air after your entercourse. You shivered, clinging to Aegon under the sheets. He closed his eyes, ready for a night of sleep, when your voice stirred him.

‘’Can we do it again?’’ you asked in a whisper, your head resting on his chest while bathing in the afterglow.  

Aegon grinned at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving him a wife that was just as horny as him.

—

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[ellecdc]

Hi!! I love love love your Finnick fics. I saw your requests are open and thought I would try one!

I was thinking reader and Finnick reuniting in either District 13 or after in the capitol when the rebels have taken it over. It could be a separation due to an Annie situation or something different. No worries if this doesn’t sound interesting to you! 🤍

thanks for your request! I absolutely love the district 13 reunion trope, but I had never read one based in the Capitol before so I decided to give that one a try. I hope I did it justice!

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who he will always find [1.5k words]

CW: potentially ooc Finnick BUT I did it on purpose because I think his unyielding loyalty and sense of duty is what ultimately killed him so SUE ME for making him selfish just ONCE 😭, angst with a happy ending

Everything Finnick had endured and smiled through since his own Games back at merely 14 years old had been for the benefit of others. The only thing he has ever done for himself was survive his games; and that was more out of desperation and instinct than it was out of any sense of pride. He dressed for the Capitol, he performed for the Capitol, he sold himself to the Capitol in order to keep his family and loved ones safe, he showed up every year in order to give other children a fighting fucking chance to survive their own games, he agreed to protect the Mockingjay for the rebellion, he sacrificed his oldest and dearest friend for their cause and almost lost another. 

He did his best to make another district feel like home even though his heart had quite literally been ripped away from him, all for the benefit of the cause, and even joined their army. 

Today, Finnick had one thing he needed to do for himself. And anyone who found fault with that could, quite frankly, suck his dick. 

“Finnick?” Katniss asks, looking up from the electronic map on the Holo in front of her. “Were you listening?” 

Finnick watches Gale’s jaw tighten at his lack of attention and fights against an eyeroll of his own. That was yet another thing Finnick had been doing as of late: playing mediator for this godawful love triangle. 

“Uhm, listen,” Finnick starts, looking around at the faces of squad 451, “If I get the chance, I’ll meet back up with the rest of you at the president's mansion, okay?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Gale starts, standing from his crouched position, prompting Finnick to do the same. “Like hell you’re taking off; the plan was to stick together.”

“The plan was to film propos; that plan has changed, and before I go any further, I have someone I need to find.” 

“Finnick…” Katniss starts, tone dripping with pity as she follows him when he takes a few steps backwards and away from the group. “Wait!”

“I’ve done my waiting, Katniss.”

“You can’t just leave!” She calls, prompting him to turn back towards her.

“You got Peeta back!” He nearly sobs, flinging an arm out towards said boy; slightly worse for wear yet still on his feet. “He’s a little broken but he’s in there, Katniss. And even if he wasn’t, at least you know he’s alive. I need to find my Peeta.”

Katniss lets out a sad sigh; eyes searching his face for any signs of hesitation. Finnick knew she’d find none. “She wasn’t with the others; what if she’s already gone?”

Gone. She meant dead. What if you were already dead?

“I would happily die next to her, Katniss. But I won’t die for a movement that means nothing if she’s not here with me.”

Finnick ignores the heat of tears lining his cheeks as he watches Katniss recall how she very nearly gave up on the entire cause herself when she found out Peeta had been taken by the Capitol from the arena. 

Well, Katniss referred to it as left behind, but Peeta was snatched; you were left behind. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Listen, we had little time to react; the moment came upon us faster than anyone anticipated and she was nowhere to be found, Odair. I looked; I searched for her, but Plutarch said we had to go.” Haymitch had explained to him.

“I protected YOUR MOCKINGJAY.” Finnick had screamed. “I protected her at the cost of Mags and Johanna. I protect Katniss, you protect my girl; that was the deal.”

“Finnick-”

“That was the deal, and you LEFT HER BEHIND!?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Finnick had gotten violent, and not on purpose. He had to be sedated for three days after that, and they considered doing it again after Peeta was aired by the capitol, but you and Johanna weren’t. He was sedated again after Peeta and Johanna were rescued from the Capitol, but you were not. 

He was officially back in your last known whereabouts. He didn’t know if he’d find you, but he had to look. 

“We…” Finnick starts as he takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face before turning his attention back to someone he had come to consider a friend. “We had somewhere…that we would meet. No one else knew of it, it was safe; if she’s here, I just-”

But Katniss simply nods. “You have to try.”

“I have to try.” He parrots.

Katniss’ eyes flicker between Finnick’s before she suddenly embraces him; the act seemingly shocking both Finnick and herself as he tentatively returns the embrace. 

“Be careful.”

Finnick tries to laugh as he pats her on the back before pulling away. “You be careful; you’re the one they’re all after.”

“We’ll see you out there?” She asks as he backs away. 

Finnick nods. “Look out for one another, yeah?” 

With one final wave - Peeta offering a cautious one of his own while everyone else (save Gale) waved back - Finnick began his journey to the last spot he could possibly hope for you to be.

You itched to leave; to look for him. He was here; after all these weeks he was actually here.

You’d managed to take off early on in the chaos and confusion following the arena being blown up; heart breaking yet simultaneously leaping at the sight of Plutarch’s hovercraft taking off without you, knowing they were going to go rescue your boy.

You let that knowledge be enough as you fought to put enough space between you and the peacekeepers tasked with finding you. 

You managed to overtake two of them, slipped into one of their uniforms and stole their weapons before going to the last place you could think that might possibly be safe; the last place you could think that Finnick might possibly find you. 

The radios you’d pilfered from the peacekeepers alerted you to rebel presence a few days ago, and it was later confirmed that a team including three victors - the Mockingjay, Peeta, and Finnick - were here. 

Here. 

You paced a hole in the floor as you considered your options. The city was large, dangerous, and you’d have to stay hidden; if he saw what appeared to be a peacekeeper approaching him, he’d have to kill you. 

But you could be sitting here indefinitely if you simply waited for him. What if he was in danger? What if he needed you? What if you could help?

Your spiralling was interrupted by a quiet knock on the makeshift door. 

There was a reasonable - perhaps hopeful - part of you that knew if it was a peacekeeper or other rebel forces, they wouldn’t have bothered knocking or alerting you to their presence. 

But years of violence and conflict found you pulling the neckguard of your stolen uniform over your mouth and nose - leaving your eyes and hair exposed - as you moved in the direction of the door with your weapon raised. 

Before you have a moment to react, the door swings open quickly and you are face to face - or, rather, gun to gun - with the love of your life. 

“Finnick?” You whisper, keeping your gun raised as Finnick lowers his own and looks at you with an expression mixed with grief and unadulterated relief. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He lets out with a soft sob, and your gun falls to the ground with a clatter as you throw yourself at him. 

He catches you; of course he catches you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You nearly sob as he lowers the two of you to the ground; overwhelmed with emotions, his legs give out on him as he keeps you pressed tight against his torso. “I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

You’re nearly keening as you alternate between pressing as many kisses to Finnick’s lips, cheeks, jaw, head - anything you can get your lips on, really - sobbing, and nearly strangling him with the desperation of your embrace. 

“I found you, I found you” Finnick chants like a prayer. “I can’t believe I found you. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re quickly shaking your head as you take hold of his face between your hands. “You don’t have to be sorry; you did exactly what you were supposed to.”

“They left you behind.” He cries. 

“They saved you.” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t argue, simply lowering his forehead to yours as his hands trail up and over your arms, sliding up your neck and then back down again as though he can’t help but touch every single part of you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You repeat again. “I can’t believe you found me.”

“I will always find you.” He insists, pulling your face from where you try shoving it into his neck only to hold it in front of him as he stares at you imploringly. “Do you hear me? I will always find you. I will always find you.” 

“I know, Finn.” You agree. “I know you will.”

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

[cllightning81]

Dyslexic Fails [LN4]

Summary : The three times dyslexia failed you and Lando

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Tag List

You and Lando had been friends for years but only started dating over the past years. What started off as an easy relationship as friends turned into something harder when you both realised you were dyslexic and struggled to spell, and neither of you could help the other. 

Lando was in his little office area and you were in yours working on a photo that you needed edited for a customer sooner rather than later but you had become distracted by a instagram post of a friend who’d posted the announcement of their child's birth. 

You had sat there for ages trying to spell the same word repeatedly however no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t spell it and speech to text wasn’t working with your accent no matter how posh you attempted to make yourself sound so you had to go for the fourth best thing after retrying, autocorrect and speech to text. Lando. 

Walking through to his office, still attempting to spell that stupid word. You quietly knocked on the door before pushing it open as Lando looked over with a smile. 

“What’s wrong? Not working?” He asked gently as he pushed the microphone away from his face

“I can’t spell it” you mumbled, holding your phone out for him. Lando took a look at the message before looking back up at you 

“What are you trying to spell, darling?” He asked, turning around in his chair to face you fully

“Beautiful” you replied, tilting your head as you watched him attempt to spell it as well before giving up after a couple of minutes with a huff. Turning back to his PC with your phone still in hand. 

“Chat, how do you spell beautiful?” He asked, and you laughed, leaning against the back of his seat as you watched everyone spell beautiful in the chat. Lando copied it down on his phone for you with a smile he handed it back 

“Thank you love” You smiled, and he nodded 

“You’re welcome. Tell them I said congratulations. Can you spell that?” He teased, and you shook your head 

“No. I can’t” You whined, and he laughed 

“Chat do your thing” you laughed, leaning back against his chair to copy the spelling. 

“Fuck being dyslexic” You mumbled kissing his head before walking out of the room.

Being dyslexic meant that not only did you struggle with long and complicated words but also the word and complicated words. 

Lando had been getting his helmet hand painted by the company who makes the trophies for the Hungarian grand prix and you had joined him really excited to see the projects that they did but when Lando went to sign the guest book that’s when the problems came. 

Lando couldn’t spell a couple of words. Some of which you remembered how to spell and others neither of you could figure out the spelling for which is how Lando’s spelling of family entered the internet with people either saying how cute it was or bullying him for not being able to spell. 

You personally thought it was cute. As teachers have always said ‘Spell it how you say it’ which is one thing that you and Lando stick to constantly because neither of you can spell some words. 

“I hate people that think they know better than us just because they can spell correctly and at first try” You laughed knowing how much it irritated him even when he talks about his struggles with it occasionally. 

"I know you do love, but I bet there's words that even they can't spell." You shrugged, rubbing his back as he nodded

"At least they can read out loud, though," you huffed, and he nodded

"That's very true"

Mclaren had the brilliant idea to put you and Lando in the same video where they made you read things out loud. Now your original plan was to make Oscar read everything out, but when you started that during the video, the admins weren’t happy with that. 

Apparently, you even being here was Lando’s idea in the first place. Apparently, he was feeling too clingy to do a video with you standing behind the camera, and he wanted to be next to you the whole time. 

So after getting told off by the admins, Lando moved towards you a little more so you could work on the cards together. It couldn’t be too hard, could it? 

Wrong. It was worse than reading out loud at school, and you were only reading a couple of lines of lyrics from a song. 

“This games stupid” you mumbled to Lando, who nodded

“Osc you’re reading again” Lando nodded, earning a glare from the media admins. 

“Look, you're making two dyslexics read out loud. To read four of these cards, your video will be at least half an hour long if we keep reading them” Lando shrugged as Oscar held back a laugh from next to you.

Coming Soon

Tag List

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[satoruhour]

a/n: something possessed me and i just started writing ... / 1.2k

warnings: age gap (reader in 20s and in uni, nanami in his late 30s), oral / cunnilingus, doggy, daddy kink, implied overstim, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, like brief fingering?, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

thinking about dad’s best friend!nanami who helps you to move into your university dormitory, arms flexing against his tight dark blue shirt as you try not to stare. it’s unbecoming, eyes trailing over the sweat dripping down his forehead, the sharp lines of his jawline and furrowed brows, espeically since he met your dad long ago when he first joined the company, seeing you from time to time in your father’s office in high school. but nanami never thought he’d see you to grow up to be the woman you are today, moving into your very own room with a bright smile — ready to take on your major and the world.

“everything in?” your dad asks with tears in his eyes and you simply push his shoulder, telling him how i’ll be fine, dad! before hugging him in between boxes and plastic bags. just behind him, nanami shoots you a gentle smile too, recalling on the times when he’s seen you help out at the office in your gap year, where you slip in little sandwiches on your lunch breaks. he thinks it’s you wanting to revisit old times where your father would buy danish pastry just for you to give it to the blonde man, but you’re hoping to melt his stoicism even further to the point of wanting things to happen — things you didn’t even want to admit out loud — with how fine nanami has aged over the years.

but one visit turned into two. the second one with your dad where rather, they talked while you worked on an assignment, but you enjoyed both of their presence. two turned into three — the third where nanami has already memorised how many steps it would take to reach your room. three turned into five, and five turned into nine where his hand would wander past your bedsheets and onto your figure, where casual talk about his work turned into conversations about you and what you liked. but nanami was always afraid of crossing over.

it was the tenth visit where dad’s best friend!nanami shows up sweaty and panting like he needs to tell you something, but when your eyes drift down to the hand he tries to hide the gears click in your head. it was only fifteen minutes ago that nanami has himself cooped up in the admin toilet downstairs, fist pumping his cock impatiently while he imagines your tits in front of his face, bouncing. where your hips do the same, whining out into his neck as your pussy clenches and gushes around him. it’s because he was interrupted by a knock that the first thing he did was to come here, but he wasn’t thinking straight. that all fades away when your hand cups his bulge, squeezing slightly that nanami wants to unbuckle his pants, but you drag him into your room before he can do it.

dad’s best friend!nanami who has your panties stuffed into your mouth as he eats you out on the dormitory bed, slurping every last bit of your juices up while his mouth works wonders on your dripping cunt. “nanami-san! p-please—” it’s a struggle to talk through fabric but you manage to get the words out, hips starting to hump into his mouth, feeling nothing like this before in your life as he nibs and sucks on your clit. nanami hums into your pussy and his arms tighten around your thighs, “please what? words, baby, use your words.” you shiver at the timbre of his voice, alongside the smoothness in which he removes your underwear. “but not too loud, or else everyone in school will know what a dirty slut you are for your father’s best friend.”

dad’s best friend!nanami who has your face shoved into your my melody bedsheets as he pounds into you from behind, shirt held up by his teeth so he can the way you take just all of his fat cock. by now, he’s drawn out multiple orgasms after holding back on you for so long — it was a sight, a babbling, pathetic mess on the bed while your cum drips from your core right down to the sheets. it’s beyond easy to slip into your hole, and nanami has to squeeze your waist so hard to try not to cum that you’re telling him to loosen his grip and he apologises with kisses down your back. he’s only kissed you once so far so you moan into the second kiss that night, hips moving back onto his pelvis before he slams his length right into you.

dad’s best friend!nanami’s demeanour changes altogether after that sweet, sensual kiss, pushing down on your arch before setting a pace, dick twitching from how tight and warm you felt around him. “can’t believe you kept this pussy from me for s’long…” nanami is entranced by his best friend’s daughter’s cunt, sucking him in so well he starts to realise that maybe buying sandwiches everyday wasn’t simply for reminsincing. you fight against his strong grip, smiling up at him, deliriously. “yeah? it’s all for you, daddy.” and nanami forgets his own rule, groaning out loud at the drop of the name as he continues to slam into you. it’s so wet and sticky, pre-cum mixed with your cum together with the slap of his balls on your ass, it was so fucking disgusting in that room and you loved it.

whines of “daddy’s” were all that was coherent from your mouth, headboard of the bed rocking with naanmi’s rough thrusts as you become more and more intoxicated on his cock. nanami easily removes his shirt, then, reaching an arm around and starts to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him before you’re jolting in surprise at the sudden orgasm, mouth going slack and your eyes seeing white from its intensity. nanami slows down just a little for you to adjust, but soon he rails into you again, low grunts leaving his lips before he’s asking where you want him to cum and he wants to burn your fucked out expression into his brain and seal your whimpers from ever escaping his thoughts.

“wan’ your cum in me, daddy— p-please!” you moan out, spreading your cheeks and pussy lips to tell him you were serious. “b-but—” nanami was getting lightheaded, your walls feel too good around him and he just wants to cum. “wonder what my dad would think having his best friend fill me with so much cum that he knocks me up? that would be exciting, right?” and nanami scoffs at what a filthy girl you are. sure, if you wanted his cum dripping out of your cunt while you attended lectures, while your joked with your dad, he’ll give it to you. he’ll give anything to you. there’s a choked moan that leaves nanami as he stills, pumping you full of his semen while your fingers close around the sheets and your pleas are muffled by them. you can fill each spurt of cum from his tip, flowing into you so well that it dribbles out from your pussy, pushing it out before there’s a swipe of nanami’s finger plunging into you.

“if my sweet girl wants my cum, she’s going to keep it in. well — after i give her a few more loads, of course.”

so many dorm escapades.. maybe im projecting a little cause is this so difficult to ask for???

[lqveharrington]

Fake-Love | C.S.

summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.

pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder

a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.

The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.

It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.

The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.

It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.

He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.

So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.

And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.

“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.

“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.

His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.

“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.

“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.

Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.

That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.

“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”

“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”

Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”

Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.

“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”

“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”

“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”

“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”

“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”

“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”

Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”

You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.

“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.

Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.

“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.

“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.

Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”

read more about coriolanus snow here !!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[amirasainz]

Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine

With love from CH 💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

- xoxo babygirl ♥️

No Part 2!

Independent, but Loved

It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.

@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”

@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”

She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."

From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."

She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"

Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"

Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."

Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"

"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"

Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."

Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"

Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."

"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.

Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"

Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."

Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."

"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"

Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."

"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."

"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.

---

That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."

"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."

"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."

Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."

Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."

"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."

Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.

They were, after all, family.

[lqfiles]

nct dream — when you refuse their affection.

mark

mark was confused. the first time you refused his affection, he didn’t think much of it, assuming you didn’t notice his hand reaching for yours when you pulled away from him. the second time, his head tilted sideways in confusion as you moved aside, seemingly avoiding his incoming hug. the third time was when he really started to question everything, he was right in front of you, right in front of your face to be exact, why were you avoiding his kiss? “uhh.. did i do something?” mark had asked you hesitantly. his hands had returned to his side, even going as far as hiding them behind his back. you let out a small chuckle before an apologetic smile formed on your face. “nothing, sorry. i just wanted to see how long it would take for you to notice.”

renjun

it had been a long day and renjun was tired of everything. so he really couldn’t deal with your shenanigans today. he’d joined you on the couch, dropping his body weight onto your side before wrapping his arms around you and snuggling into you, a tired sigh leaving his lips. he felt you subtly trying to shuffle away and immediately sat back up. “what are you doing?” he questioned, a mixture of surprise and tiredness in his voice. you were caught off guard, not expecting him to notice the small movement. you leaned closer to him, shaking your head slightly. “no, please don’t misunderstand. my body is just really sore today.” you explained, grimacing as you leaned back. renjun nodded, deciding to give you some space. “get well soon.” seems like he wasn’t the only one with a bad day.

jeno

it had been a few hours since you and jeno hadn’t talked to each other, and you were not planning on facing him any time soon. still, jeno missed you, and guilt had formed inside of him as the argument the two of you had replayed in his head. you hadn’t even noticed him stand near the door to the bathroom where you were brushing your teeth. “hey.” jeno’s voice startled you and you looked to your side, contemplating on whether to answer him or not. “i.. i just wanted to apologise.” he took careful steps into the bathroom, standing beside you. you looked at him through the mirror and he did the same. jeno cracked a small smile, trying to reach for your waist but you moved aside, continuing to brush your teeth. had you looked up at the mirror, you could’ve seen the way jeno’s smile dropped and turned into an expression of hurt. “i’m sorry.. talk to me when you’re ready.” jeno had to hold himself back from reaching for you one last time.

haechan

you wondered how oblivious haechan was, why he wasn’t able to pick up on your sour mood as you joined him in his car. it was starting to annoy you that he hadn’t even noticed the scowl on your face, let alone question your silence. his reaction only started the moment he tried to reach for your hand, failing to do so as you pulled it away almost immediately. he eyed you quickly before looking back on the road. second try, he reached for your thigh and you leaned your legs away from him. “what the fuck?” haechan asked, appalled. “what’s up with you?” he’d retract his hand back to the steering wheel, waiting for your answer. “i’m pissed today, and you don’t even care. but you have the nerve to hold my hand?” you scoffed, looking out the window. haechan wouldn’t know what to say, choosing to stay silent for the rest of the drive, only muttering a small apology later as the two of you exit the car.

jaemin

jaemin was a very understanding person, if he’d say so himself. when you refused his affection the first time, he gave you the benefit of the doubt, assuming you didn’t feel like it. he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the day. next day, he’d try it again, reaching forward to kiss you goodbye. you once again moved aside and jaemin smiled, again assuming you didn’t feel like it. but now on the third day when he tried once more to initiate a kiss, and you moved away for a third time, he realised he might not be as understanding as he thought he was. “are you mad at me?” he cornered you, a nervous smile pulled on his lips. “you haven’t let me kiss you in three days.” he explained, smile almost dropping. you laughed, shaking your head. “i have a cold, i don’t think exchanging kisses would be right. we can kiss next week hopefully.” you explained and jaemin let out a sigh of relief, glad the emergency apology bouquet in the living room wasn’t needed.

chenle

the moment you refuse chenle’s affection, he starts to question you and your motives. a frown grew on his face the second you waved him off after he dropped you home, not sparing him an extra glance as you entered your house. he texted you asking you what that was all about. you dismissed it and told him you forgot to give him a hug. of course, chenle wouldn’t drop it and assume you’re up to something. to test his theory, he’d increase his affection. trying to hold your hand, pulling you close by your side and more attempts at hugs. like he expected, you refused all of them and of course he could see the sly grin you were trying to suppress. “you really think you’re funny, don’t you?” he asked after a week, joining you in the kitchen. your smile grew bigger and you nodded. “very funny actually.” you laughed, reaching to pat him on his shoulder but he took a step back. “i can be funny too.” he says, leaving the kitchen with a victorious smile on his face.

jisung

jisung did not like this at all. you had opened the door with a surprised look, and jisung wondered if he interrupted something as you didn’t smile at him like you usually do. you two were sat on the floor in your room, eating the food he had bough you. jisung noticed the sleeves of your cardigan that were about to touch your food and subconsciously reached forward to lift it up. you flinched away and jisung flinched himself at the jittery motion. choosing not to point it out, he decided to join you in the living room after cleaning up. he sat next to you, and you moved away. he reached for your hand and when you pulled away, he knew something was up. “why.. what’s going on?” he asked while nervously biting on his lips. you’d look at him apologetically. “i.. i don’t feel too good today, jisung. i’m sorry for acting so cold.” you explained and jisung stiffened, instantly standing up and apologising. “i-i didn’t know, i’m sorry:” he didn’t think twice before turning around and leaving, he didn’t want to be a burden after all.

thank you for reading!

[changetyre]

Oh my god please I need more landoscar content 🙌🏻

Three can play this game || Landoscar x Reader (P2) Ⓗ

SUMMARY: The boys aren’t shy to let their friends know how much they enjoy you in every aspect of the word. And despite it being 2 against 1 sometimes it's not that hard to get the upper hand on the boys.

WARNINGS: Mostly suggestive content, no smut this time sorry ;(

A/N: I had so many requests for a part 2 but I got a huge block and it just sat in my drafts for the longest time. I'm not sure I like it but I can't think of anything else ;( I'd be up for a Part 3 if you'd like though.

The dinner was…a lot. The boys were right, it was a very booby choice of attire that you’d picked for tonight and the fact that they’d both happily left a big mark on each of your girls did nothing to help the “discrete” glances the boys around the table took at your chest.

You could tell Lando and Oscar were both highly enjoying the attention their girl was getting and they loved even more the fact that this was only making matters worse for the wet ache that they’d left between your legs a few hours ago.

"You like her dress, Pierre?" You almost choked on your food as your daring boyfriend confronted the man who was having the hardest time keeping his eyes off (your body) you .

Pierre cleared his throat but by his unshakable smirk, you could see he felt no shame in being caught. "I do, very...good fit."

You hoped the rush of heat to your cheeks wasn't visible to the rest of the table as you tried to focus on your food. You hated your boyfriends right now, so much for making this dinner one of the hardest nights of your life.

Oscar had kept his hand on your thigh all dinner letting it move up and down throughout the dinner occasionally inching higher than necessary.

Lando on the other hand was having the time of his life whispering dirty things into your ears, letting his hands roam your waist and his fingers occasionally grazing your breasts as well as planting kisses on your shoulder and neck not caring your PDA distracted the boys from their meals.

You might've as well started fucking in front of all of the boys at this rate you thought to yourself as it was clear you three tonight were the center of attention.

"Darling you alright?" Oscar cheekily asked you as you fanned yourself trying to keep the heat at bay.

You glared at your boyfriend and he simply smiled innocently. "You both are insufferable." You whispered to him.

"And why would that be my love?" Lando asked holding that mischief in his tone as usual.

"Hmm...fine." You huffed, earning your own sly smirk. "Three can play this game."

"What game?" Oscar asked with the same innocent tone.

"Boys, will you excuse me I need to use the restroom?" You asked, your tone suddenly confident to the surprise of those around the table.

Lando moved out of the way allowing you to leave. You were quick in the bathroom knowing the boys would probably want to join you which wasn't part of your plan.

You walked back to the table making sure the sway in your hips was a little more marked than necessary before scooting your way across your boyfriend's lap not letting him stand up to let you through this time.

The way Lando's hand gripped your waist as you scooted across his lap was a good indicator that your plan had set off excellently.

"Everything alright?" Oscar asked you.

"Everything's perfect." You smiled as you sucked your middle finger into your mouth watching the way Oscar looked closely at the motion. You knew the thoughts that would invade his mind and he'd obviously assume you'd taken care of yourself already.

"Baby, will you put this away for me? It was starting to bother me." You spoke clearly as well not caring as the rest of the boys heard and watched you hand something to Lando.

Lando opened his hand ready to receive it and his heart almost lept out of his chest as he saw the coated string you placed in his hand. He gasped before closing his fist tightly and stuffing the clothing in his pocket.

You heard a couple sniggers from the boys as you proudly managed to reverse this game.

"By the way Pierre I forgot to thank you for the compliment. I also think this dress is a good fit." You smiled at the man as you adjusted the dress from your chest.

"Uh...y..yeah." Pierre cleared his throat nervously this time. "Yeah of course."

"I know the boys liked it a lot as well...should've seen them before leaving." You joked unashamedly. "I mean I'm sure you can tell anyway." You laughed to yourself loving the effect you were having on the men across the table.

"Uh baby would you like some dessert?" Lando asked you clearly trying to get you to stop your games.

"Hmmm." You turned to your boyfriend, your hands coming down to rest high on his thigh which made him tense at the action. "I would love some dessert." you bit your lip "innocently".

"Oh, you're too funny my darling." Oscar pulled you back now panicking at the way the rest of the boys were left speechless.

"And why is that Ozzie?" You leaned to him this time.

"Well I think you might've had too much to drink tonight darling." Oscar tried laughing it off. "If you're full then I think we can go."

"Hmm I'm not exactly full but I'm sure I'll be stuffed later hmm-" you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

"OKAY we're gonna go. Good night." Lando interrupted you and took your hand pulling you up and away with him.

You giggled to yourself proud that you'd gotten your desired reaction, leaving the boys with mouths wide open and your boyfriends beyond flustered.

The drive home was definitely going to be interesting.