#hope your week has been going great so far! lots of love

[mobius-m-mobius]

hey again oops but i’m on a series rewatch and thought of something that would’ve been fun to see in s2e5: loki still struggling to control the timeslipping again and stumbling upon his friends on their branches, but they’re initially not the right variants he needs. like how there was classic, kid, and alligator loki. and he lands on a bunch of branches, seeing so many versions of them before finding the right ones and bringing them together with o.b’s tempad

You have no idea how bad I've been wanting another series rewatch lol, maybe someday a piece of media will become as satisfying as the Loki series and I'll be free but to this point everything else is falling way short 😅

Seriously though this is like the EXACT scenario I was hoping for at first too just because of how cool it was to see the various Loki variants and how they felt so much like elements of our Loki's life thus far divided up for singular focus, so seeing that reflected in the TVA crew would've been fascinating since not only we the audience but they themselves had no real idea what their og personalities were like?? And it's already incredible the show managed to accomplish a bit of that in the limited time we did meet everyone (especially with Don clearly having elements of what became Mobius' strengths as an analyst) but considering the entire group was needed to attempt a loop back to the loom I realized there was no real way to get a similar effect unless they speedran Loki meeting tons of different variants which unfortunately also raises the possibility many of them would've been used for joke fodder or something which I wouldn't have wanted so will just keep crossing my fingers we eventually get a better opportunity to delve into everyone at the TVA in length. They're all so fascinating and so is the twisted irony of the place as a whole which imo can only be properly expanded upon with the pacing of a series and even the two seasons we were lucky enough to get have been rushed quite a lot so there's an endless amount more to explore!!

(One allowance I will make for potential movie inclusion though is the absolute NEED to hear multiple characters acknowledge the God of Mischief fell so hard for an paper pushing analyst with a heart of gold that the entire multiverse was saved because of it, Marvel call me because when is that happening 😭😭)

[recklesssezon]

𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗶

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | aitana bonmati x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | aitana can't stop thinking about you

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | none

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | this been sitting in my drafts for months hehe

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Aitana met you.

Two weeks stuck in a limbo, wishing to see you again. In passing years, confidence had become Aitana’s best friend. Consistent wins and titles built Aitana’s reign in the football world, which eventually extended to her personal life. Aitana felt untouchable. All her blood, sweat, and tears led her to this point, and she wasn’t gonna stop now. 

Aitana knew she’s one of the best players of the generation, playing for the best club in Spain, and if she was being a hundred percent honest, Europe. She’s aware of the impact she has endlessly made in the community each year. It wasn’t ego talking but a simple fact to be acknowledged. 

What Aitana didn’t realize is that her status and image could only get her so far. The world doesn’t excuse star athletes from it's desire to hurt. Before you, Aitana loved the world, and in return, they loved her. But, when she laid eyes on you, Aitana was instantly a goner. When your figure shrinked in size as you walked on, she slowly began to despise the very thing that loved her. 

You barged into her perfect world with your hot Brazilian accent and beautiful smile. Who wouldn’t fall for you? 

No one. A simple answer Aitana believed. 

She just wished that when she fell, you would have caught her. Instead, you let her fall continuously into the void that you created with your absence, and Aitana hated it. You demolished her world, a world centered around football only to be destroyed so easily by a charming smile. Dumbfounded, Aitana spent days putting her picture-perfect world back together brick by brick.

For once in her life, Aitana felt pathetic. A familiar yet unfamiliar emotion aching in her chest. 

In her youth, Aitana understood it. After each loss, she didn’t feel worthy, she didn’t feel like the great soccer player she strived to be. Aitana felt pathic, so yes the emotion was familiar to her. But, unfamiliar because Aitana didn’t lose a game that day, no, she just let go of the one person that sparked the wick in her soul. 

Aitana never felt a spark with someone before, the spark that many described as fireworks when they met the one. As sad as it is, Aitana never experienced fireworks. She summed it up to the fact that she was busy with football, too busy building her career to feel those sparks. 

Time went on, and so did Aitana’s hidden search for those fireworks. She eventually became immune to the romance surrounding her, couples left and right displaying their love that consisted of hand holding, hugs, and kisses…the list goes on. Maybe once or twice out of the year, Aitana wished to find someone to love, but no shooting stars were granted.

Year after year, Aitana slowly became content with her lack of romance…until that day on the beach. 

Aitana remembers that day so bitterly yet so fondly, the team had just finished up their time in the ocean. Favoring their time left with the sun before it completely set. She recalls being at peace. The breeze blew cool air against her warm skin, a still state Aitana hoped she had more often. And then you came along, fresh out the water, surfboard in arm. Effortlessly, you exposed Aitana to a new adrenaline. 

One she didn’t know existed and then when you waved at her, Aitana panicked. This, she liked a lot less, clueless to why she felt such a thing. Cool, calm and collected Aitana Bonmati panicking over a girl waving at her, how gay of her. She can still feel the internal embarrassment coursing through her body. 

When you spoke, Aitana believed she entered paradise. You possibly gave her the best chat she’s ever had. Your heavy Brazilian accent was music to her ears. Your rolled r’s nearly had Aitana on her knees. You knew how to keep a conversation going, the lightness and flow lifted weight off Aitana’s chest. The freedom to speak without care was new to her and she loved it. You were interested in what she had to say, focusing on her like she was the most important person in the world. 

The easy smile you had when she started to ramble and the twitch of your eyebrow when you found something amusing, if this is what people felt when they were in love, Aitana understood the addiction. You made her heart beat to cupid’s song, a rhythm that stuck to Aitana everytime she thought of you. 

And it was cute until she found sad songs to sync her heart to. Her attempts to hide her feelings sucked, the team immediately noticed her shift in behavior. Not only was she actively restored to brooding, small ques of isolation and a long heartbreak playlist were following factors. They’ve never seen Aitana so emotionally impacted by someone, the Great Aitana Bonmati wallows in misery over a girl, never thought they’ll see the day. 

“Her first lesbian heartbreak, the final step to her slut phase.”

Patri groaned, rubbing the back of her head where Frido slapped her. The team was on water break and instead of sitting with the others, Aitana sat at the edge, airpods blasting James Arthur.

Mapi sighed, yanking out her airpod, wrapping an arm around Aitana’s shoulder. “It’s okay, mi amiga. There are plenty of other women in the sea. We just need to get you in the right space to find them. How about we hit that nightclub by-” Cut off by a cleared throat, Mapi smiled innocently at Ingrid. The Norwegian removed her girlfriend from her dear friend, taking the prior spot for herself. 

“Don’t pay attention to her. You don’t need to move on so fast, just go at your own pace.” 

Mapi threw her arms out in offense, it wasn't just her who wanted Aitana to enter her lesbian spree. Cata, Patri, Pina, Misa, and even Jenni, who was all the way in Mexico, wanted to break Aitana out of her shell and right into someone’s sheets. 

It was a daring plan that they created, too much riding on it if it got leaked. The amount of trouble they’d get in for messing with precious Tana was undoubtedly scary. Nonetheless, they got to work. Patri and Cata signed her up for dating apps, swiping left and right to find girls who looked similar to you. 

Jenni was assigned to find potential matches in Mexico which wasn't exactly hard but Mapi kept rejecting them on Aitana’s behalf when they looked nowhere near you. Misa had a hometown friend that shared the same color hair and eyes as you but Aitana quickly shut it down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Each rejection and failure, they tried harder, determined to win their friend’s heart.

Aitana grew annoyed at their foolishness, Exhibit A.

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'm sure it will be. But, I want no part of it."

"Yes, you do. Trust me, right now you're experiencing your first girl heartbreak and its shitty. But, to get over someone is to get under someone. Now, what about her?”

Aitana glared at Mapi, eyes staring down at her friend, resisting the urge to push the phone that was shoved in her face. “I said no. So, get that phone out of my face before it ends across the field. Leave me alone before I tell Ingrid.” 

Mapi's jaw dropped, holding her phone tight to her chest. “That’s not fair!” She exclaimed, “We’re trying to help! Misa brought her friend to the city so you can meet her but you locked yourself at Keira’s which was really rude by the way! She was excited to meet you!” 

Aitana clenched her jaw, turning her back to Mapi to continue kicking penalties. Jana giggled, patting a pouting Mapi on the back. “She doesn't care for them because they're Spanish. She wants a little Brazilian instead.” Aitana's head snapped to Jana, the young girl cowdered behind Mapi at the fierce glare.

“Who told you that?”

Jana peeked out from Mapi’s shoulder, “Patri might've said something about an accent.” Patri said more than Jana claimed, she knew it, Mapi knew it, even Jana herself knew that Aitana wasn't buying her white lie. 

Mapi gasped, shaking Aitana in excitement. “You want a Brazilian?! Why didn't you say so, we can book a flight right now and grab the nearest one when we get off." Aitana stared at her friend eye-wide, Jana not too far off. Both looked at Mapi as if she lost her damn mind. 

“You want to kidnap someone?” Jana asked in disbelief, was it ever that serious? 

Mapi wagged her finger in the air, “No, I said grab. That’s different from kidnapping.” Jana shook her head, “I don’t think it is if they don’t go willingly.”

Mapi threw her arms to the side, almost smacking Aitana in the face. “Why wouldn't they come willingly? We show them Aitana and they’ll be dogs in heat wanting to meet her. I mean have you seen this face?” Mapi grabbed Aitana’s jaw in her hand, squishing the midfielder’s cheeks. “It’s so cute!” Mapi cooed, her baby voice in full effect. Aitana shoved the older girl away, sending a heavy glare for the mockery. 

“I’ll end you.” 

Aitana threatened, Mapi scoffed, not feeling the slightest worry. Aitana wasn’t a vengeful woman, she was calm and collected more than anything. 

“I’d like to see you try.” Mapi cockily said, calling Aitana’s bluff. Within a second, Aitana stocked up on Mapi, yanking the phone out of her hand before launching it across the field. “You bitch!” Mapi yelled, running after her precious phone, praying that it wasn’t broken. 

Aitana turned her back to Mapi’s slouching figure, pointing a finger at Jana. “You keep messing with me, you’re next.” Jana nodded rapidly, eyes snapping to Mapi as she cried dramatically over her phone. Aitana walked off leaving her two friends to deal with the mess they made. 

“And I’m telling Ingrid!”

“We’re not flying all the way to Brazil just for you to set me up with a random stranger.” Patri just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. The more the others knew, the more they pressed. Aitana didn’t want that, it was frustrating enough to deal with her own emotions but to have more people hound you for it was just as infuriating.

She didn't want anyone that wasn’t you, she didn’t care for the girls in Spain and she definitely didn’t care for some random girls in Brazil. She just wanted you and that’s all she’ll ever want. 

Aitana didn’t expect anyone to understand. Heck she didn’t understand it herself. The very first person she fell for, someone she couldn’t have known for no more than an hour, pained her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Her mind imagined scenarios of what could have been if you lived in Spain, if she found loopholes to see the relationship working out. It drained Aitana mentally, all these what ifs. And to show up at work or hang out to be constantly tested fueled her anger. 

She felt like a laughing stock. For the team to know that someone tugged her heart strings was humiliating, double the amount due to the evident impact it had on her. Every woman introduced to her by the helping hand of Mapi, Patri, whoever was a few, pushes away from tipping the iceberg. 

To the rest of the team, they knew very well that Aitana was bound to snap. She’s been teased relentlessly for weeks, they wouldn’t be surprised if Aitana became a loose cannon by the end of the month. 

Aitana sat in her cubby, undressing herself from all the sweat that lingered on her clothes. Patri hopped over, nudging Aitana who ignored her. Patri smiled nonetheless, leaning closer to her, whispering, “I heard what you did with Mapi’s phone. Did she tell you about the match you made on-” Aitana threw her boots into her cubby, whipping around to come face to face with Patri. 

The talking instantly ceased in the locker room, the sound of boots banging against metal gained rapid attention. The smile on Patri’s lips slowly faded away, the tension in Aitana’s face vanished any playfulness in her bones. “If you heard about that then you should’ve heard what I told her. Leave me alone, quit bringing up random girls for me to date. I don’t want them and I don't want you or anyone else meddling with my life!” 

Seeing that Aitana was blowing up, Mapi came over to try to do some damage control. “Hey, we’re just trying to help you get over that girl. You were so upset about her leaving we just wanted to help.” Despite the softness and genuine intention, that didn’t do anything to rid the annoyance and anger building up.

“Well don't! How many times did I ask you to stop?! And you didn’t?! You keep making fun of me! I’m sick of it!” 

Alexia quickly interfered, placing a hand on Aitana beating chest giving the younger girl a soft look. “Why don’t you head home and get some rest. I’ll handle this.” She assured, Aitana snatched her bag off the floor and stomped out the room, giving up the fight before it became physical. The doors slammed loudly against the wall with the force Aitana used. 

Alexia spun on her heels, hands on her lips as she glared at Mapi. “This needs to stop. It’s gone on for way too long. I mean it, Patri delete that app off your phone. I know you still have it. Mapi quit trying to set her up with people she doesn’t want to meet. And anyone else involved quit the shit before you’re running laps before practice for the entire season.” 

Alexia made it a mission to make eye contact with the four who were involved, the other two she couldn’t reach due to one being in Madrid and the other in Mexico but she’ll be sure to check them when nationals come. “Apologize to her. Buy her flowers, clean her apartment, I don’t care just make it up to her, Jonatan has a potential player visiting and we need to make a good impression as a team. Understand?” 

Various answers were said, all pleasing to Alexia to what she wanted to hear. “Good. Patri, Pina, and Mapi starting tomorrow you’ll be running laps until you apologize. And Cata, you’ll be in goal for Aitana’s balls tomorrow, better hope she’s cooled off by then.” The four protested but Alexia didn’t bother to stay to hear it. 

Keira winced at the slammed door, the blonde went by to pick up Aitana for their usual carpool and by the looks of it, yesterday’s mood still lingered. Aitana refused to visit their usual cafe after Pina exposed Aitana’s loneliness to one of the barista’s hoping to score Aitana an unwanted date. She even refused to listen to their morning playlist which always gets them in a peaceful mindset for the day. 

The ride was awkwardly silent, Keira respected Aitana’s need for silence but it killed her the entire time. As soon as the car stopped, Aitana wasted no time rushing out the car, Keira quickly caught up expecting Aitana to be more dragged with her movements to hold off seeing the team.

“Going a bit too fast for me, Tana. Mind slowing down a bit.” The blonde chucked but Aitana made no indication that she was listening, noticing Aitana lost in her thoughts Keira stood in front of her primarily stopping Aitana in her tracks. 

“Still bugged out from yesterday? Don’t worry, Alexia had a talk with the team after you left. They’re very sorry about their actions.” 

Aitana blinked, “Let’s just get to training.” She left it at that, leaving Keira behind. As much Aitana wanted to act like nothing had happened in the past weeks, the brewing irritation and embarrassment had risen to a boiling point that wasn’t going to cool soon. So unfortunately for the girls, they were going to be on the receiving end of Aitana’s fury for the next following days. 

Aitana pushed the doors open to the locker room, high energy today as loud chatter came from the walls. Time stopped for Aitana, her eyes caught onto the person standing in the middle of the room as if it's the norm. Talking to her teammates with a huge smile. How were you here? Why were you here? Millions of questions ran through Aitana's mind and none could she work out an answer to. 

Aitana didn’t realize that you began making way towards her, even as her eyes followed you as you navigated through the room like you've been here before. You stood right in front of her, except there was no sun blinding her, all she had was the ceiling light, a very dim light.

You had a stupid smile on your face, happiness filled your heart to its content. You counted down the remaining days to return to Barca, to see Aitana after your first encounter it made all the move to Spain more exciting. 

“Hi, Aitana.” 

Words breathless, your heart pumping to cupid’s song made it hard to catch your breath. A beat skipped and so did Aitana, well, more like bolted out the door leaving you standing stupidly in the middle of the room.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 5

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Part 6

Chapter Summary: You talk to Addison, but may have dug a deeper hole for yourself. Bucky has a chat with you, too.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon phone sex, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, reader is trying to stay calm, needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It never rang that early, minus the occasional call from the shop to see if you could go in early. With a groan, you opened your eyes halfway to glance at the device. You closed them when your vision cleared to read the name.

Bucky.

“Mmm. Too early for that,” you mumbled, rolling over to hug your pillow as the call went to voicemail.

He messaged you after you told him you had plans for the night, but you didn't read it. In fact, you hadn't glanced at your phone for the remainder of the evening after you got ready for bed. You only knew of the messages since your phone kept digging. You went through the rest of your normal routine and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The date took a lot out of you.

Was it a good idea to ignore him though? This was a man used to getting what he wanted and for things to be done his way. There was a chance he wouldn't take you not responding to him well. Well, if he “cared” about you the way he claimed, he’d have to deal with it. Besides, it hadn't even been half a day since you spoke to him.

You bolted upright at the knock on the apartment door. “What the hell?” You whispered, pushing the covers back. Forcing yourself out of bed, you threw on your robe before you went to answer it. Your heart thudded as you looked through the peephole, half expecting to see Bucky on the other side. Your shoulders relaxed when you didn’t see anyone, but you only opened the door a crack.

A familiar scent filled your nostrils as you opened it more. It reminded you of the bakery you liked to visit once a week. Homey, warm, comforting. But your stomach turned when you spotted the bag since you hadn’t ordered anything.

Glancing down each side of the hall to make sure no one was there, you snatched up the bag and locked your door. Your lip wobbled when you looked inside and saw the note on top of the container. It matched the handwriting from the note in your bedroom.

“Most important meal of the day. Enjoy.”

You had half a mind to throw it out, but your grumbling stomach protested. It was your usual when you stopped into that bakery and for good reason since it was delicious. It should’ve been a nice gesture. It should’ve put a smile on your face. But how could it be when Bucky didn’t learn those things about you naturally?

The doorbell rang again as you got to the table, your heart jolting from the sound and the bag dropping to the surface. “Get a grip,” you whispered, going back to the door. Maybe Bucky could send you to a spa so you could try to relax. Not that you would ask him. He wasn’t your boyfriend.

Didn’t matter how rich he was.

You looked through the peephole again, smiling when you saw Addison on the other side. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her caffeine likely kicking in already. “Hey,” you greeted her when you opened the door.

“Hey yourself!” Addison smiled, pulling you in for a hug. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped back and took a good look at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great. Never better,” you tried to smile, stepping aside so she could go in. Guilt crept in from not being honest with a simple question. You weren't great at all. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early, that’s all," you replied, double checking the lock on the door.

“I thought I’d swing by to check on you before I went to work. I didn't hear from you after I texted you and you’re usually really great about texting me back, so I wasn't sure if you were upset that we had to reschedule our plans or if something else was going on.” She paused when your face fell. You were so busy ignoring Bucky that you forgot to reply to her. “Maybe upset isn’t the right word, but bummed? I know we haven’t had much girl time lately outside of my wedding stuff.”

“I'm so sorry. I’m not upset. Last night just got away from me,” you assured her. “Bummed, I’ll give you that.” You added teasingly.

“Are you sure? I feel bad for bailing.”

“Please, don't,” you said. She had no reason to feel bad. “You get to go to The Terrace tonight, which is amazing. I don’t blame you at all for rescheduling.”

Brady was not only a nice guy and a hard worker, but he practically worshiped the ground Addison walked on. He would spoil her rotten if he could. He just wanted to make her happy and she wanted the same for him. It was the kind of relationship you admired.

Addison nudged you with a smile. “Have I told you how awesome you are? And right? I couldn’t believe it when Brady told me. It’s The Terrace!”

“You two will have a great time.” You said, leading her to the table so you didn't have to linger by the door. They deserved a nice night out. “Okay, I’m being nosy, but did he happen to say how he got the reservation? I mean, they’re usually pretty booked.”

“So, listen to this,” she began as she sat down. She had your full attention. “His new boss pulled him into his office yesterday and told him what a great job he’s been doing. Gave him a bonus and everything for all his hard work and said to celebrate by taking me out for dinner at a place of his choosing. He said ‘The Terrace’ thinking there’s no possible way, right?”

“Right,” You said, taking the food out of the bag and being careful to not let her see the note. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I ate before I left, but that looks amazing,” she said before she continued. “Two phone calls later, there was a table booked for us! I think he was a little embarrassed when he told me since someone else technically pulled some strings for him, but I don’t care. He works his ass off and it’s about time it was recognized.”

“I agree,” you said, replaying the words in your mind. “Wait, did you say new boss?”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Kind of surprised Brady since his old boss still had a year or so left, but he took early retirement. And the new boss takes his job pretty seriously, but seems like a good guy from what I’ve heard.”

You swallowed heavily. “What… What’s his name? The new boss?”

Addison’s brows furrowed as you picked at the food. “I think his name is Nick. Why?”

Your next breath was much easier. Bucky was making you paranoid in all aspects of life. “No reason. I just think that’s really nice of him,” you smiled.

Your friend didn’t look convinced for a moment. “You sounded and looked really weird when you asked.”

“Just hungry. You know how I get,” you said, forcing yourself to take a bite.

She raised an eyebrow before she shrugged. “At least you don’t get hangry like Dana,” she teased. “But yes! It was nice of him. It’s a great way to support employees.” Her eyes lit up before she smacked the table. “Ooh! I should ask if he’s single.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that, please,” you begged. The last thing you needed to deal with was pulling an innocent man into whatever was going on with you and Bucky.

“Why not? We need to find you a man and he’s good looking. Or you know what? I think one of the groomsmen might also be single now. Maybe we could set you up with him?”

“No, Addison,” you said, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you when she had no idea what had transpired in your life over the last couple of days.

Your friend sank back in her chair, her previous excitement gone. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you said, putting another bite of food into your mouth in the hopes that you’d keep more words from tumbling out. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled up, but a powerful man had threatened her. Your best friend.

“Oh, yeah? Then give me a good reason why I shouldn’t set you up with someone. Just one,” she challenged.

“Okay, fine.” Bucky’s face shimmered in your mind as you said, “It isn't set in stone, but I may have a date for the wedding. Maybe.”

You shifted in your seat, wishing you didn’t say that. It was the only thing that could possibly stop Addison from setting you up with someone else. Pulling anyone else into whatever game Bucky was playing wasn’t a smart move. Not until you could figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Addison's eyes went wide as she sat up and swatted at your arm. “Oh, my God! You’re asking about The Terrace when you buried the lead?! No wonder you’ve been off this morning! Tell me everything!”

“There isn't much to tell really, but…” Your heart sank as your friend literally moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and happiness. “He's handsome. Successful. Headstrong. Likes to read in his spare time. And for some reason, he really seems to like me.”

“Ahh! This is amazing. You're really growing out of your shell. I'm so proud of you.” Addison nearly knocked you out of your chair when she launched at you and hugged you tight. “And what do you mean he likes you ‘for some reason’? You’re a fucking goddess, okay? Say it. Say ‘I’m a fucking goddess’.”

“You’re a fucking goddess,” you joked, giggling when she hugged you tighter. “Okay, okay. I’m a fucking goddess. Let me breathe, please.”

“Yeah, you are.” She pulled back to take a seat again, a wide smile still on her face. “This is amazing news. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Well, I'm sure everyone will love him,” you said. And you had no doubt they would. Something told you he would be the perfect charmer, telling everyone what they wanted to hear and showing them what they wanted to see. As well as being a doting boyfriend.

“If you like him then he must be great.”

“Yeah,” you said. You probably would’ve liked Bucky if things played out differently. “And you're sure he can go? I understand if he can't and I'm sure he would, too, since the wedding is just around the corner and it’s still so new.”

“Of course, he can go. Everyone is going to be thrilled.” She took one of your hands when you looked in your lap. You didn’t want to look up in case tears sprang to your eyes. “Hey. You’ve been the bridesmaid long enough. It’s about time you meet someone who finally makes you the bride.”

Tears filled your eyes anyway, but you blinked them away. If Bucky had his way, you’d be his bride soon enough. “Listen. Addison-”

“Shit, I gotta go before I’m late. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her bag as she stood up and gave you one last hug. She was in such a hurry that she thankfully didn’t catch your misty gaze. It was better that way. “Text me, okay? We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“And I won’t say anything to the rest of the girls until you do,” she promised, rushing to the door. “Seriously, so happy for you!”

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” you called after her. “Have fun tonight!”

“I will! Love you!”

The door shut, leaving you alone and in silence. You placed your head on the table with a groan. You were an idiot. No, that was cruel to think about yourself. You just felt cornered and reacted accordingly. And now you had to bring Bucky to the wedding, which was what he wanted.

What have I gotten myself into?

You lifted your head after a minute to finish your breakfast. As much as you wanted to lay about all day, you had to be productive. Plus you had to look at your phone eventually. You wondered how many more times Bucky messaged you. You also wondered if there were any stories or articles about him online.

Would snooping make things better or worse?

Making sure your front door was locked, you finally went to retrieve your phone. Stretching out on your bed, you picked up the phone and swiped until you got to Bucky’s messages. You scrolled through to the last one you sent, when you told him you had plans.

“You have plans? They really want to meet you.”

“I can still bring the dress over if you want. Just in case.”

“Already thinking about our second date. I want to make it special. I never want to stop wooing you.”

“Sweet dreams. Wish you were here so I could hold you.”

Your heart sank as you kept reading them, the words blurring together on the screen.

“Having a hard time sleeping since you haven’t answered me. I hope you're okay.”

“Maybe I should get you a new phone.”

“Ignoring me, Kotyonok? Playing hard to get?”

The last message came through a minute ago.

“Should I just come over and check on you?”

Your heart jumped to your throat as you typed out a message. What were the chances of him showing up if you didn’t respond? It was better not to risk it. You had ignored him enough. “Sorry, Bucky. I’m not glued to my phone and I crashed last night after our date. Thanks for sending breakfast over. That was a surprise.”

It wasn’t the end of the conversation, of course. “It’s okay. Just worries me when I don’t hear from you.” As if he had the right to worry about you when he caused you worry to begin with. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You went to set your phone down, but saw more dots on the screen. “You sure I can’t see you tonight? The guys are really eager to meet you. I want you to meet them, too.”

Reading that made your stomach roll. Would they be like Ray? Complicit? “I told you I have plans. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.”

Another message popped up almost immediately. “Which one do you like better?”

Two images of Bucky appeared after the text. He stood with confidence in front of a sleek sink that you could only assume was in his bathroom. The pictures were nearly identical, minus the fact that the first image had him in a dark green jacket and the second had him in blue. But that wasn’t what made your next breath shaky.

He stared right into the mirror, the lens capturing his gaze so that it penetrated the screen. He seemed to be looking right at you. Unflinching. Unwavering.

Your fingers shook as you typed back to him. “The blue. It brings out your eyes.”

Your phone rang a second later. Now he was calling. You let it ring for a bit longer before you answered. “Hello?”

“Morning, Kotyonok.” He purred on the other end. “Hope I'm not bothering you. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Morning.” When has a man ever called just to hear you speak? “Not sure why you need to hear it. I don’t think my voice is nice to listen to,” you said.

He chuckled. “You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” Your cheeks flamed. He knew how to lay it on thick. “You’re right about the jacket. The blue is the better choice. And it’ll be a lot easier to get your opinion once we’re living together.”

You shut your eyes and counted to three. “So, you’re still convinced I’m going to live with you?”

“Before the end of the month. My promise to you.”

“We’ll see,” you said, blaming your lack of wit on your lack of caffeine.

There was some shuffling in the background that you could only make out since you went quiet. “Excited to meet my friends tonight?”

“I’m not meeting them tonight. I told you more than once that I have plans,” you reiterated. You weren't budging on that, even if all you’d do was curl up with a book. He didn't have to know.

He chuckled again, like he knew a secret you didn't. “That’s right. You did tell me that.” It was strange that he didn't ask what your plans were. “Are you ready for the day? Or are you still not dressed?”

Your eyes flickered around the room. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t see you. It was fine. “I still need to shower and get ready,” you said.

He hummed. “The shower here is nice. You’ll love the tub here, too. Has plenty of room for both of us.”

“Bucky-”

“It’s perfect for me to fuck you in it.” His voice was rougher and you thought you heard him incorrectly. “I dreamt about that last night. Bouncing you up and down on my cock as your cries filled the room, the water splashing around us. Sounded so fucking pretty.”

Your mouth fell open when you heard more shuffling. And moaning. A deep, hungry moan. “What are you…” Was he… Was he touching himself as he spoke to you? Jerking off? No. He couldn’t be. “Bucky, I’m-”

“I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, Kotyonok,” he rasped, his breathing heavier. So was yours. “Say it.”

You bit your tongue. You didn’t want to say it or hear any of this. It was filthy. Wrong. But you obeyed anyway. “Bucky,” you whispered.

The next sound he let out was something you could only describe as pornographic. “I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.” You rubbed your thighs together and ignored the heat in your body. It was a natural reaction. Fear. It had to be. “Talk to me. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“I…” Your eyes squeezed shut, your chest lightly heaving. Dread gripped you and you didn’t know what to say. “I can’t.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined that, too. Telling me you can’t take my cock. That it’s too big. Too much.” He panted and something told you to keep listening instead of hanging up on him. “You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

You covered your mouth, afraid of whatever sound would come out as his heavy breathing persisted in your ear. You could almost imagine him pinning you down with his weight, taking you apart. Making you say his name. Spilling inside you as he said yours.

Bucky said he wasn't a monster. That he wouldn't hurt you. But what was he going to do to you?

“Fuck, you’ll look so gorgeous when I…” Bucky trailed off, all sounds of pleasure on his end coming to a halt. “For fuck’s sake, what?! What is so fucking important right now?!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, your heart pounding. You thought you heard Ray in the background, but couldn’t be sure. “I-I should probably go,” you said, grateful for the interruption.

“I understand, Ray. Just give me a fucking second.” Bucky exhaled before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to go, but I have to.”

His tone was much gentler since it was directed back at you. “So do I. I need to shower,” you said. To wash off whatever just transpired even though he didn't touch you.

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.” You heard the smile in his voice and fought the urge to get sick. “Have a good day, okay? We’ll finish this later. I promise.”

You tossed your phone away and sat up, your hands gripping the sheets as you inhaled and exhaled. Did that really just happen? One-sided phone sex or whatever the hell it was? The sounds of his moans rang in your ears. Thankfully the heat was no longer spreading through your body.

This wasn't your fault.

But you could’ve yelled for him to stop. You could’ve hung up. You didn’t do either of those things. Could've, would've, should've.

Where was your fire?

“It’s fine,” you whispered, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I’m fine. This is all going to be fine.”

You refused to be anything other than fine. And he wasn’t at your place, so you were safe and sound, right? You had to be.

Lying to yourself didn't make you feel any better. It didn’t stop you from rushing to the toilet when you dry heaved. And it didn't stop you from wondering when he’d finish what he started over the phone.

Bucky continues to leave an impression, doesn't he? And he's convinced you're going to see his friends, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Taking Care Of You When You're Drunk

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had! Still not feeling great, but I will definitely get back to requests tomorrow :) This is just a lil thank you for your patience my loves! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

Butcher notices you've been drinking a lot more than usual. Ever since you found out he was dying, you've been trying not to think about it or worry about it, and the only way you can do that is by drinking. Getting drunk is just a fun side effect. He'll drive you from the bar, taking your shoes off before tucking you into his bed. He hates the idea that you're hurting yourself like this because of him, because he didn't listen to you and he took the V without regard to his or your safety. The least he could do was hold your hair while you threw up and bring you a glass of water and some Tylenol. You don't talk about it, though. You don't want to talk about him dying, you don't want to face that future, and you don't want to talk about your growing problem. You were drinking on the job, too, maintaining a certain numbness so that nothing else could hurt you.

Hughie hates that you're drinking more. He understands why. More and more stuff just keeps going wrong. More and more issues pop up. It's hard to be positive or optimistic. It was easier to find your way to the bottom of a bottle than to come face to face with any of this stuff. He doesn't mean to pry, but he asks you a lot of questions. The main one is why are you doing this? You just shrugged. It's so hard to explain. Everything feels like too much. You were tired, and scared, and you weren't sure you wanted to do this anymore. What was the point? He tried to cheer you up. You had the serum in the severed leg, you were so close, why give up now? You wanted to be that hopeful. You really did, but you couldn't.

Annie definitely lectures you. This is the third night in a row (this week alone) where the bartender called her, your emergency contact, taking your keys from you. You've been drinking a lot more, ever since you left The Seven and joined The Boys. You worked with Vought for so long, she knew there was a lot you weren't saying. She tried to talk to you about it, but you were so cagey, shutting her out instead. Shutting everyone out. It was awful, that much she knew. Still, everyone went through something. That didn't give you the right to get as drunk as you were as often as you were. You're barely listening, but she gives you her speech anyways. She'll keep telling it to you until something changes.

M.M. hates taking care of you when you're like this. The biggest thing he can't stand is the vomit. He stays as far away from you as possible, yelling from the across the room if you're okay. He offers hand sanitizer and napkins and mouthwash, but he refuses to get any closer than that. The noises alone make his skin crawl, let alone the smell. He's in charge now. He feels like he has to take care of everyone, regardless of the issue. You getting drunk wasn't a problem yet, but he knew he'd have to talk to you if it got worse. Drinking every night just to function during the day wasn't you. You couldn't keep going on like this. If that included tough love, so be it. You needed to hear it.

Frenchie drinks with you. He never goes as far as you, realizing that at least one of you should be slightly more sober. He doesn't really mind when you get drunk. Something happens with you. You become happier, sillier, more fun. You smile and laugh more. He likes seeing that. He likes knowing you're at least a little happier. Life had become so hard lately. Your past was catching up with you, and you didn't know how to handle it, so you got drunk. He understood the concern from everyone else, but he knew yelling and lecturing would change anything. At least he could be there for you. At least he could take care of you and laugh with you and be there. That's all you really needed.

Kimiko is quite gentle when you're drunk. She walks you home from the bar and takes off your shoes and asks you questions: Are you nauseous? Are you hungry? Thirsty? She gets it. When she saw the posters of the Shining Light Liberation Army, she drank more than a few beers. Anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes, you just need a little liquid courage to face the hard things. She makes sure you have pain relief for the headache you'll feel tomorrow and gets you something greasy to put in your stomach. She doesn't like or want to villainize your actions. You were all tired of this, fighting a battle you could not win. She stuck up for you when the others thought you were being messy or stupid. You just needed some time, that was all.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're messy, a degenerate, and he won't tolerate it. When he knows you're drunk or hungover he makes a special point to seek you out, to punish you. You're a member of The Seven, you should act like it. The same way it infuriates him when Sage lobotomizes herself, he feels that when you start drinking. You have a public image to uphold. Even when you go out in civilian clothes, anyone could spot you. Anyone could ask for a photo or ask questions. It was stupid and selfish and reckless and as long as he's in charge, he won't tolerate it. He humiliates you, he says, because he cares. You think it's because he likes having power over you when you're at your most vulnerable.

Bonus! Soldier Boy thinks you're a lightweight and calls you out on it any chance he can get. There's no keeping up with him. Even being a Supe, you could still get incredibly drunk. Your tolerance was a lot higher than humans, but nowhere near Soldier Boys. He doesn't really take care of you when you're drunk. It's more like lying you on your side and leaving you to sleep. He's not very caring towards anyone, let alone someone he considers lesser than himself. He's fun to drink with, but the fun pretty much stops there. If he's feeling extra considerate, he might throw a blanket over you, but that's as far as he goes. He'll leave you and keep on drinking for the rest of the night. You being drunk won't put a damper on his legendary partying.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 3

Author’s Note: I made up a lot of sicknesses/random things that have never been mentioned throughout the actual ACOTAR series! The breaks in text are going back and forth between the two rooms.

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 3 Summary: Clara has been found out, but what has she done to you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Clara said softly, a small confused smile on her lips.

"When I asked you to help her, you said "I didn't do this one." What does that mean." Nesta snarled at the young healer.

Mor seemed deep in thought, Azriel and Cassian were equally confused, and Nesta seemed ready to pounce.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing her say that." Mor spoke up.

"You better tell us what's up right now." Cassian growled.

At this point, Clara's smile faultered. She looked around for a way out but noticed the four of them had her surrounded and they wouldn't stop until they knew the truth. She may be evil but she wasn't dumb.

"It wasn't even that bad." The healer confessed.

"What have you done?" Azriel questioned, his voice deadly calm.

------

Madja had seen cases like yours before but never this bad. The cut on your back had traces of venom in it. A rare venom that used the victim's power against them.

She needed to extract every last ounce of it that was in your system but it was trickier than it sounded. If she took too much too fast, it could essentially tear your powers from your very being which would kill you.

"I need you to enter her mind. Once you are in, I will start to remove the poison from her system, you just need to let me know if her mind starts fading." Madja explained to Rhys.

"Are you sure this will work?" Rhys asked.

"Of course I am, boy. Now do as I say." She said quickly.

Rhys tried to enter your mind but all he could see was blinding light. There was no where for him to enter, it was almost as if the light was burning him. He pulled away, never feeling anything like it before.

"I can't get in, her light, it burns me." He explained to the healer.

"Listen to me. It might burn a bit but you will be fine. On the other hand, if we don't fix her right now her light will continue to burn brighter until it has consumed her. Perhaps we could get the shadowsinger in here to help." Madja told Rhys, hoping Azriel's shadows could help.

Rhys immediately spoke to Az through his mind and he appeared within seconds.

"What can I help with?" He rushed out his question.

"I cannot enter her mind, it is too bright, painfully so. Could you somehow use your shadows to help me get through?" Rhys explained the situation.

"I can try." Az responded.

------

Cassian looked towards where Azriel just stood, knowing he went to help you.

"I have no clue what's wrong with Y/N, honest. I swear I didn't think it would go this far." Clara pleaded with the group.

"You better start explaining before I unleash Nesta upon you." Cassian threatened.

Nesta had been eerily still, like a predator hunting her prey. Clara was visibly scared. Her hands were shaking, terrified of what Nesta would do to her.

"Ok listen. I've had a huge crush on Azriel for years now, so when I saw you guys needed another healer I took that as my opportunity." The "healer" explained.

"We've only known you for 2 weeks, how could you have a crush on him for years?" Mor asked.

"Everyone knows Azriel, the mighty shadowsinger, the feared spymaster of the Night Court. Well...when I met him all he wanted to talk about was Y/N. About how much I'd love her personality, how she's so great," Clara went on, "so I was a little jealous of her."

By this point, Mor was dissappointed she didn't believe you. She assumed you were exhausted from your mission and the guilt she felt was awful.

"When she showed up to my shop I got angry that she was back so soon. Rhys wanted me to do a check up on her and all I saw was a tiny cut on her back so I thought she'd be fine and I just wanted her to leave." She continued to explain.

Nesta was fuming by this point. Not only because of what she did to her friend but also because she didn't see through Clara sooner.

"Wait wait wait, all this is happening to Y/N because you're jealous of her? What kind of vile creature are you?" Cassian seathed.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen-" She began to plead when Azriel appeared in the room again.

------

Rhys re-entered your mind, this time with Azriel's shadows being a protective barrier around him. It was way easier this time but he wasn't sure how long Az could hold it.

"Alright, start." Rhys told Madja.

The healer began her work. Unweaving the venom from your powers, from your soul. She was about halfway through when Rhys called out.

"STOP! I can feel her fading!" Rhys was panting, he was exerting all his energy.

Madja pulled out, confusion taking over.

"This doesn't make sense. It's as if another energy is pulling her powers. Like an untouched ball of energy using up the rest of her." She explained.

"What do we do?" Azriel questioned.

"It needs another energy form to pull from..." She started.

"My shadows." He whispered.

Before anyone could stop him he sent them out to you and that little ball inside of you immediately began to absorb them. He screamed out in pain and Rhys and Madja quickly began to work.

It took only a few moments more for Madja to finish yet it felt like an eternity for the two males. It had been way easier now that Az was distracting whatever it was inside of you. The venom was successfully extracted and the room was eerily quiet. Rhys and Az both fell back, feeling drained from using their powers in such a way.

"Why isn't she waking up?" The shadowsinger whispered, making his way toward you.

"It must have to do with whatever is deep inside her. I need to do a full body work up on her to see what is going on." She spoke and started right away.

Az felt a tear slide down his cheek and quickly brushed it away. The High Lord stayed back to give you space to be checked out but he felt the same as the male next to him, worried and hopeless.

It felt like an eternity when Madja spoke up again.

"There is a substance inside her nose. Almost like a powder but I haven't seen it before. I'll have to take it back with me to break the molecules down. I'm afraid Y/N will have to stay in this state for now." She told the two males.

Azriel's head shot toward Madja at her words.

"Wait, did you say a powder was in her nose?" He muttered.

She just nodded her head in response, holding up the sample she collected. Your words from earlier popped into his head.

"Y/N told me 'she blew some powder in my face which caused everything'." Azriel stated coldly and winnowed away.

------

The shadowsinger appeared in front of Clara, his shadows surrounding her and pinning her against the wall. She shrieked in either pain or fear but he didn't care. You were in danger and he would stop at nothing to help you.

"What did you blow in Y/N's face?" He demanded.

"What?!" She feigned innocence.

Azriel held up the vial of powder close to her face. His shadows squeezed tighter around her frame.

"It's nothing serious," She weezed out, "It's a mix of vamire, spitfire aconite, and root of igranium. All it's supposed to do is heighten the pain/sickness they already have. I had an antidote that I gave her. It's in my bag."

Mor quickly grabbed the bag from the female, searching for both the powder and the antidote. She handed them both to Az.

"And why would you posion her just to give her an antidote?" Cass asked.

"I wanted to impress Azriel." She whimpered looking down.

"What's in the antidote?" Az shouted at her making her flinch.

"A..Adlirin and G..G..Green Gilliflower." She sputtered in terror.

The shadows left along with their master and she fell to the floor.

------

"Both of these are in her system," Az spoke holding the vials, "Vamire, Spitfire Aconite, Root of Igranium, Aldirin, and Green Gilliflower."

Madja's eyes grew wide and a bad feeling shot through both Az and Rhys at her reaction.

"This isn't good." She said, looking over your unconscious form.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @theravenphoenix26

@anoneyesee @ren-ni @kabekusa @isa1b2h3 @i-am-infinite

@historygeekqueen @mariahoedt @fr0stf4ll

[vivi4nn4]

Could you maybe do the brothers reaction to mc being terrified (or terrorized but some other demon whatever you come up with) and running PAST another brother going straight for him. Like he's THE safe space?? Thank you for your writing service

yes my lovely I think this request is so so cute! And honestly I think this is one of the worst works I’ve done so far but I have hope that maybe it’s not that bad but I apologise if it isn’t the best the more lower down the brothers I got the more I realised they become out of character but enjoy! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

The brothers reaction to being your safe space 𝜗𝜚 ⊹₊ ⋆

lucifer ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— lucifer as the sin of pride will be so pleased with himself he will go the whole day feeling high n mighty of himself

— lucifer will definitely protect you no matter what happened just like the rest of his brothers so no need to worry

— he loves , even adores the fact that you view him as your saviour n safe space it makes his pride shoot up his arse n out of his head

— he’s definitely going to use this knowledge to his advantage n in his favour the fact you choose him over anyone else

mammon ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— mammon would do anything to protect u n to keep u safe

— but seeing you run past his brothers n go straight to him gives him a funny feeling of happiness n satisfaction knowing you pick him

— he will definitely use it against you saying stuff like “ you picked me bcs im your first mammon “ “ obviously you knew the great mammon was the best brother “ “ the great mammon will always help you “

— on the other hand he will definitely laugh at you n poke fun for being scared

leviathan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— leviathan would be so surprised he always thought that he would never be the one that you would run to for help

— all of his envy about the other brothers being your saviour n not him flew right out of his head

— not the mention how happy he would be in the inside he would be screaming like a fan girl knowing you choose him

— but that doesn’t mean he’s the best at it no no leviathan is middle ground he is sorta good at protecting you n knows that’s what he wants to do but doesn’t mean he is the best to do that job

— leviathans self doubt gets in the way a lot n this situation is no expectation but he will try his best!

satan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— satan will be so happy that you chose him n he will your protecter forever

— Satan does everything to be there for you whenever you need wirh a hug or whatver else you want

— he will definitely stick up for you no matter who or what it is or what situation is happening

asmodeus ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— asmodeus is so full of himself after you choose him he definitely does round with a pep in his step for the rest of his week

— but after saving you he wants to be rewarded by going shopping or doing your makeup since he’s been so brave by protected you!

— asmodeus is definitely like leviathan he can protect you n will without hesitation but he’s definitely doesn’t go about it in the best way but don’t second guess him he is the 5th brother for a reason!

beelzbub ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— beelzbub oh beelzbub he is definitely the best choice , his kind nature , his big heart, his strength he is a protecter made from birth

— he did fight in the celestial war n he was a warrior and that pays off

— beelzbub would be so happy n his heart melts knowing you see him as a safe space n your protecter over his other brothers

— he’s an absolute sweetheart n will do anything for you you melt his heart in so many ways! But don’t underestimate him he is one if not the strongest of the brothers

belphegor ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— belphegor is lazy as we know but he will protect you don’t doubt it but in the most laziest way possible unless something that has angered him has happened then he’s ready n riled up

— even tho he is the sin of sloth don’t underestimate his power

— he will definitely laugh n make a joke to you about how you were scared ect he just loves seeing your flustered face

[willowsnook]

princess (18+)

request from @anyarhancock Bacon, tomato, rye, with mikes way - I’m begging you to make it HOT

lando norris x quadrant!reader

My heart is only yours to break

—----------------------------------------------

When you got a call from Max Fewtrell asking if you were interested in being a Quadrant athlete, you were hesitant. With the battle for the Women’s Snowboarding World Championship heating up, you weren’t sure you had time to commit to something else. It ended up being your friend Keegan who convinced you; he had been one of their athletes for a while now and loved it. He knew you’d be the perfect fit. 

A month after signing the contract, you did some shoots with them, and they started to sponsor you, vlogging some halfpipe events. You’d met most of the team so far besides Lando Norris, who was the CEO. Being a professional athlete, there was a lot of gossip in the “industry,” and a lot of it painted him as a young playboy who needed an attitude check. Keegan was practically in love with the man, so you had hoped it wasn’t true, but your first interaction said it all. 

After flying from the US to London for a team meeting, you were talking with Max about an upcoming competition when Lando finally made an appearance. He was supposed to be there hours ago but was just now showing up, sunglasses on, and clearly hungover. 

“Hey mate,” Max said with a smile you knew was masking his irritation. “I don’t think you’ve met y/n yet.” 

“Hi,” you said, sticking your hand out. Lando mumbled a greeting before leaving your hand stretched out to go to where the coffee machine was. You gave Max a look, and he tried to smooth it over. 

“He’s not always like that, I promise,” he reassured you. “He’s just going through some shit.”

“Yeah, like a whole bottle of vodka,” you muttered. Walking into the conference room, you sat next to Keegan, chatting about the upcoming Olympics he was competing at.

Ten minutes later, Max started the meeting and you followed along, listening to new ideas being thrown around and events that were coming up. 

“For the past couple of months, our content from competition vlogs has been doing the best, so we really want to keep that up,” Max said. “Y/n, great job so far; I'm excited to see what content you get in two weeks.”

“About that,” you started, carefully choosing your words. “That competition is a qualifier, so I really would like to be heads-down. I don’t think I’ll want to get any content for it.”

Keegan nodded in understanding beside you, his silent support reassuring you.  Max opened his mouth to respond, but Lando interrupted with a sharpness that sliced through the moment.

“You do know you signed a contract to create content for us,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his irritated tone matched by the flash in his eyes.

The room went uncomfortably silent. All eyes turned to you, but you met Lando’s gaze without flinching, your jaw tightening.

“I didn’t realize signing the contract meant I should prioritize this over my actual career,” you replied, your voice cold and steady. “You know, the one that caught your attention in the first place.”

A flicker of something—was it guilt?—crossed Max’s face, but Lando didn’t back down. If anything, his expression hardened.

“It wasn’t my attention you caught,” he shot back, his words laced with an edge that made Max wince beside him.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Of course not. It’s pretty clear who makes the decisions around here.” Your eyes flicked pointedly between Lando and Max, the tension crackling like static electricity.

Lando’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening, but it was Max who tried to step in, his voice soft yet firm. “Guys, come on, let’s not—”

“No,” you cut him off, keeping your gaze locked on Lando. “Let’s not pretend this is something it’s not. I agreed to collaborate, not to give up everything that matters to me. If that’s a problem, maybe we should reevaluate this entire arrangement.”

Keegan shifted uncomfortably beside you, unsure whether to intervene or let you hold your ground. Max glanced between you and Lando, his expression torn.

Lando’s lips parted as if to retort, but whatever he was about to say got swallowed by the weight of your words. For a moment, it seemed like he might actually relent—but instead, he pushed back his chair abruptly, the screeching sound echoing in the room as he stood.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low but simmering with frustration. “Do whatever you want.”

He strode out of the room without another glance, leaving behind an awkward silence that hung heavy in his wake.

“Y/n, that’s fine. Don’t worry about filming,” he said, and you smiled appreciatively at him. “Let’s take a little break.”

You stormed out of the room, Keegan hot on your tail as you bypassed the place's amenities and headed straight outside. 

“Y/n, wait up,” Keegan called out to you, and you whirled at him. 

“You got me involved in this shit,” you yelled at him. “You know how much pressure I’m under! This was supposed to be fun and a mission I could get behind. I don’t need to work for an asshole.” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry about today,” Keegan said, and your anger faded at his wounded puppy dog face. “He had a bad race last week and isn’t doing well.”

“So it’s been said,” you replied. “I have bad runs too, but you don’t see me being a dick to people I don’t even know.” 

Meanwhile, Lando was scrolling his phone, still stewing outside of the room. 

“Wel,l that went great bud, thanks,” Max said sarcastically, approaching him. 

“I don’t like her,” Lando said, not looking up from his phone. 

“You made that pretty clear,” Max shot back. 

“She’s cocky, rude, and not the kind of person I envisioned representing this company,” He said, finally looking up to Max, who just rolled his eyes. 

“She’s the same amount of cocky as you are and I don’t care; we can’t get rid of her.”

“Why not?” Lando questioned. 

“She has brought in twice as much money as anyone else here,” Max told him. “Look, I get it’s different. She’s bigger than anyone else we’ve signed, which means she gets more leeway with us; that’s just the nature of the business.”

“How has she even brought that much business?” Lando complained. 

“Same thing as you, but with guys,” Max said, and Lando looked at him confused. “Dude, you know she’s hot. Just like you have a million fan girls who buy our merch and support us, she has a million fanboys. It’s just how it goes.” 

“Well, I don’t like it,” Lando muttered. 

“You don’t have to like it,” Max retorted. “But if you’re going to be an asshole to her, I think it’s best that you just stay away. 

—-------------a month later---------------------

Putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you did a little spin for yourself, admiring your work. Your friend Bella giggled beside you, watching you check yourself out.

You were staying with her in London and meeting up with some of her friends at a club tonight to party before you had to head back to reality in a couple of days. 

Your season had a month-long break, and you had spent most of it travelling snowboarding in pretty places that you hadn’t been to before. At the end of the break, you flew out to see Bella and to cosplay being a normal person for a week. You and Bella had grown up together, and she moved overseas for college and never went back. 

Bella made you take a million pictures in the mirror before the two of you finally headed down to get an Uber to a new club you were going to. The line by the door was a mile long, and you sighed, not enjoying this part of a normal lifestyle. But fate was in your favor; as you stepped out, one of the doormen caught sight of you and recognized you instantly. He waved both of you over, much to the annoyance of the people in line. 

“Are you y/n, y/l/n?” He asked, and you nodded. He was around your age and very cute, so you gave him your best smile. “I’m a big fan; you’ve got the championship in the bag.” 

“Thank you, I sure hope so,” you replied warmly. 

“You two can come in right through here,” he said, gesturing for you to move through. You kissed his cheek as a thank you, and he flushed red; you could hear his fellow doorman chirping him as you walked away. 

“It is very irritating how many men trip over their feet for you,” Bella grumbled from next to you.

“Would you rather us wait in that line?” You teased, and she sighed. 

“No.”

“If it makes you feel better, it gets old,” you told her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“All these guys want me because they think I’m hot and know I’m rich,” you told her. “They want me because I’d look pretty on their arm, nothing more.” 

“Only you would find a way to complain about attention like that,” she joked, and you laughed. Her friends were at a table insid,e and you joined them, greeting the ones you already knew. You got bottle service for the table, you’d use your money on the girls anytime, and you started to let loose. 

Many drinks later, your bottle service was up, and you found yourself waiting by the bar to get a drink. 

“I think I owe you a drink,” a voice murmured in your ear, smooth and self-assured. You turned, already bracing yourself, to see Lando standing behind you. He looked annoyingly good in his all-black outfit, the tailored fit highlighting every inch of his confidence. But the memory of your last encounter simmered beneath the surface, and your annoyance returned in full force.

“I think I’m good,” you replied flatly, turning back to the bar without giving him a second glance.

Undeterred, he slid into the spot next to you, close enough that his cologne's subtle, expensive scent filled the air. You hated how much you noticed it.

“Don’t be like that,” he coaxed, his voice light but carrying a hint of challenge. His eyes drifted down your figure, unapologetically lingering at your chest before flicking back to your face with a smirk.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “You do realize I’m not one of your usual girls who’ll fall at their feet for you, right?”

His jaw tightened, but the corner of his mouth curved in a sly grin. “And you realize I’m not one of your usual guys who’ll let you walk all over them, right?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the amused twitch at your lips. “Trust me, I’ve met guys like you before. All charm, no substance.”

“Funny,” he shot back, leaning casually against the bar. “I was about to say the same about you. Except, in your case, all bark, no bite."

You turned to him fully this time, your eyes flashing. “Careful, Lando. Push too hard, and you might get bit”

His grin widened, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was irritated or impressed. “Big words,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “But I’m not convinced.”

Before you could respond, you were interrupted by someone saying your name. 

“Y/n, is that you?” 

You froze as you turned around to see your ex-best friend staring back at you, a look you knew to be fake on her face. 

“In the flesh,” you replied, a tight smile on your face. The last time you had seen her, she was at your door, crying her eyes out about how her sleeping with your boyfriend was a mistake and that she couldn’t lose you. That was two years ago. The bartender interrupted her next words and she turned to order a drink. You quickly reached behind to grab Lando’s arm, pulling it to wrap around your waist. He stiffened at the contact, but Sophie turned back, eyes catching his arm placement, and he understood. 

“How have you been?” She asked, taking a sip of her old-fashioned and wincing, which made you smirk. She only ordered those to impress guys she wanted, even though she hated the taste. 

“I’ve been good, busy,” you said, not wanting to give her anything more to work with. Lando bowed his head to rest on your shoulder as he eyed this girl. He liked her even less than he liked you.

“And who might this be?” She asked, and you smirked. You knew she followed Formula 1, and you were proud of yourself for thinking so fast on your feet. 

“This is my boyfriend, Lando,” you said, and you felt his grip tighten against you. 

“Nice to meet you,” he offered and Sophie beamed. 

“How long have you been together?” She asked, and you started to answer but Lando beat you. 

“Just a couple of months,” he started. “I saw that video of her face-planting during one of her events and knew I just had to have her.”

You could tell he was enjoying this, but your elbow into his side was instinctive. 

“Ope, sorry babe, are you okay?” You asked innocently as he rubbed his ribs.

“All good, princess,” he said, smirking and your smile tightened at the ridiculous pet name. 

“You should really come visit us sometime,” Sophie said and you visibly stiffened at the mention of “us” which didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. 

“I don’t think so,” you said sharply, and Sophie rolled her eyes. 

“When are you going to get over that? I miss you,” she complained and you laughed. You genuinely could not believe what you were hearing. 

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulously. 

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “Look, you weren’t a good girlfriend to him, and that’s okay. You just couldn’t help outshining him all the tim,e but he forgives you.” 

“It’s hard not to outshine someone who’s a fucking loser,” you snapped, and she flinched. “Let me tell you the same thing I told you 2 years ago: don’t say my name. Don’t call me. Don’t talk about me. My life became so much better once I cleaned the shit from it.” 

Lando snorted from behind you while Sophie’s jaw dropped. You turned, dragging Lando with you back towards your friends. 

“Friend of yours?” He said with an amused smile on his face. 

“Something like that,” you responded, rolling your eyes. Lando had come with Max, who you saw chatting with Bella at the table. 

“Y/n!” He yelled as he saw you. He hugged you, and you gave him a big smile. “Has Lando been forgiven yet?” 

“I pretended to be her boyfriend in front of this random girl, so I think so,” Lando replied and Bella gave you a look. 

“Sophie,” you told her, her nose scrunched up. 

“Ew.” 

The drinks kept flowing and the night became very hazy. The last thing you remember was dancing with someone very inappropriately before the world faded. 

Groaning as you came back to the world the next morning you tried to sit up but were restricted from something weighing you down. Opening your eyes, you saw an arm wrapped tightly around your naked waist, holding you down to the bed. Eyes traveling up his body, you wanted to cry the second you saw that curly hair. 

“NO!” You yelled, throwing your hands to your face. Lando jolted awake, searching the room for whatever caused you to yell before glaring at you. 

“Will you shut the fuck up? I have a headache,” he complained, and you moved your hands to his neck to strangle him. He pulled your hands off, holding them down on the bed while hovering above you.

“If you wanted round two, all you had to do was ask,” he said wickedly, and you groaned. 

“Tell me this is a nightmare, and I just need to wake up,” you begged and his smirk widened. 

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he teased. 

“Moment of weakness,” you groaned and he scoffed. “Did we actually have sex?” 

“Afraid so, princess, not my best performance, though, considering you forced multiple tequila shots down my throat before we left the club,” he admitted. 

“Good thing I don’t remember it then,” you said, slipping out of bed. The soreness between your thighs meant that it still was probably above average but you weren’t going to say that. Lando’s eyes tracked you as you made it to the bathroom, and he felt himself starting to get hard again. Squeezing his eyes shut he laid back on the bed, trying to think of anything besides you being naked in the shower. 

You came out five minutes later, not bothering to hide your body from him. You looked through his suitcase and pulled out a quadrant hoodie to pull over your head, along with some boxers that would look perfect for your walk of shame home. Everything Lando did to distract himself went out the window as he stared at you in his clothes. 

Your eyes flickered to the rising tent under the covers and you smirked. 

“Something wrong baby?” You teased, and his cheeks blushed. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he muttered, but his hand slipped under the blanket and you took a step closer. He pushed the comforter back and your eyes widened at the size of his cock but you quickly masked it with indifference. 

“So this is what I got to see last night,” you said, bringing your fingertips to trace the base to his tip. Lando let out a deep breath, shutting his eyes while trying to control his breathing. “Did me showering get you worked up?”

He didn’t respond but you swiped your thumb over his tip, pressing gently, causing him to groan. 

“Maybe just a little taste before I leave,” you teased and his eyes shot open, his hips involuntarily bucking up. Leaning down you stuck your tongue out, tasting his precum and swirling it around his head. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “Please give me more.”

You took him completely in your mouth and to the back of your throat before pulling off with a pop. 

“Too bad,” you said. “See you around Norris.”

With that, you got up and grabbed your purse, heading out of the hotel. He was too stunned to say anything. 

—----------a month later-------------------

You were coming off a bad competition weekend when Max called you, begging you to fly to Vegas for the F1 race. He wanted to film some content and had the perfect idea. 

A hot lap between you and Lando. 

You only agreed because you felt bad about producing less individual content as your season ramped up. Max assured you it was fine a million times, but Lando’s original comments were still in your mind. 

So here you were on a Wednesday afternoon at the track, fiddling nervously while Max set up the camera in the car. Lando strolled out of the garage, dressed down in sweats and a McLaren sweatshirt, and you shoved the image of what you knew he looked like under those clothes far out of your mind. 

The roar of the engine echoed through the garage as you tugged the helmet over your head. Lando was leaning against the McLaren, his trademark smirk plastered across his face as he watched you strap yourself in.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice dripping with faux concern. “It’s not a Sunday drive, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. “Please, Lando. I think I can handle a little speed.”

“A little speed?” He laughed, sliding into the driver’s seat with a flourish. “Oh, you’re in for a surprise.”

The car rumbled to life as he revved the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Last chance to back out. I won’t judge you—much.”

You shot him a confident smile, adjusting your grip on the straps. “I’m not the one who’s going to be scared, Lando.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “We’ll see about that.”

The moment the car hit the track, the world blurred into a dizzying streak of color. Lando threw the car into turn after turn with expert precision, the g-force pressing you back against the seat. But instead of the scream he was clearly waiting for, you let out a laugh—loud and exhilarated.

“This is amazing!” you yelled over the roar of the engine, your grin wide and infectious.

Lando’s head snapped toward you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “You’re enjoying this?”

“Are you kidding? Go faster!” you challenged, your laughter echoing in the small cabin.

“Faster?” he repeated, shaking his head in mock offense. “You’re supposed to be clinging to the seat, not cheering me on!”

“Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think,” you teased, shooting him a sideways glance.

His jaw dropped, though he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Alright, then. Let’s see if you’re still smiling after this.”

He floored it, the car screaming down the straight before diving into a hairpin turn. Instead of shrinking back, you leaned into the experience, your excitement only growing.

As the lap came to an end, Lando pulled into the pit lane, cutting the engine with a flourish. He turned to you, still grinning, but there was a hint of something else—admiration, maybe—in his gaze.

“You’re full of surprises,” he admitted, pulling off his helmet and running a hand through his tousled hair.

You shrugged, unbuckling your harness. “You’re not the only one who likes living on the edge.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Careful, you keep talking like that, and I might start to like you.”

You laughed, stepping out of the car. “Who says you don’t already?”

Max stood by, watching the interaction between the two of you. He had known his best friend long enough to know what the look on his face meant as he watched you walk away. 

“I don’t like her, Max, she’s cocky and rude,” he fake imitated Lando, mocking his earlier words. “And look at you now: smitten.”

Lando scoffed, “I’m not smitten. We are just friendlier than we were.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Max said, grinning. “You like that she isn’t falling at your feet.” 

Lando didn’t say anything, but they both knew he was right. 

—------a month later------------

To celebrate the end of the year, Quadrant had gotten a massive Airbnb cabin in Vail, and you were very excited, especially since you hadn’t seen Keegan in a while. Also, you could use some relaxing snowboarding. The championship was in a month and would come down to that last run between you and one of your competitors. 

It was almost blizzarding when you landed, but you were just thankful that your flight hadn’t been delayed. Finding an Uber took forever due to the weather, but finally, a brave soul in a very big truck picked you up. You dragged your suitcase through the snow and quickly punched in the code Max had sent you opening the door. 

Lando padded into the entryway, amused at your snowy state. You flipped him off in greeting, but he ignored it, picking up one of your bags to help carry to your room. 

“I have some bad new,s princess,” he said as you reached the room he had apparently picked out for you. 

“Stop calling me that,” you replied.

He ignored you, “you were the last flight in. Everyone else has been delayed until Wednesday.” 

“You’re joking,” you said in disbelief. That was in two days. 

He flopped onto your bed, giving you a wide grin. “Just you and me.” 

The two of you did not exchange a word for the next 24 hours. Lando mainly stayed in his room streaming with Max, and you wandered around the cabi,n switching from reading to watching trashy TV. It was actually kind of nice. You made dinner the first night, leaving some for Lando, which he texted you to say thank you for, but other than that you stayed out of each other's way. 

Tuesday evening, you were engrossed in your book, a hockey romance, which made you flustered. Usually, you’d be at home so you had access to your vibrator when reading a book as filthy as this one, so now you were suffering. 

Closing the book, you headed upstairs and to your bedroom. You passed the bathroom that Lando was currently showering in but noises coming from inside had you stopping. Pressing your ear to the door, it sounded like he was whimpering but not like crying. After he let out a string of curses and groans of frustratio,n you realized what he was doing. 

Debating what to do for a couple of seconds, you turned the handle and opened the door. Lando heard you enter and poked his head out from behind the curtain. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, but you didn’t answer; you just pulled your shirt over your head, and his eyes widened as he watched you strip. Once you were naked, you moved to the shower and he reached out a hand to help you in. He didn’t say anything; he just waited for you to make the next move. 

“I’m going crazy in this house,” you said. “So all I’ve been doing is reading romance novels, and I need some kind of relief. I’ll help you out if you help me out. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

He smirked and started to reply, but you held your fingers to his lips. 

“No talking,” you said, Lando's breath hitched as you knelt before him, the warm water cascading over both of your bodies. Your eyes locked with his, a silent understanding passing between you. This was about release, nothing more.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his already hard length. He inhaled sharply at your touch, his hips involuntarily jerking forward. Slowly, you began to stroke him, feeling him throb in your hand.

Lando's head fell back against the shower wall, his eyes fluttering closed as you worked him. His hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to tangle in your wet hair. You leaned in, your breath hot on his skin, before taking him into your mouth.

A low groan escaped Lando's lips as you swirled your tongue around him. Your free hand gripped his thigh, steadying yourself as you began to bob up and down on his cock, making sure that your tongue kept moving. 

"Oh god," he moaned, breaking your no-talking rule. But you were too caught up in the moment to chastise him. He started moving his hips faster, his hands wrapped in your hair. You gagged around him and his hips started to stutter as he spilled down your throat. 

He pulled you up, wincing as you gave his cock one last squeeze. 

"My turn," he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs.

You bit back a moan as his fingers found your most sensitive spots. The dual sensations of the hot water and his skin on yours sending you into a frenzy. 

His lips found your neck, kissing and nibbling as his fingers continued their relentless assault.

"God, you're so wet," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with renewed desire.

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. But when he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them just right, a moan escaped despite your best efforts.

Lando's other hand came up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. The dual stimulation was quickly pushing you towards the edge. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing your release.

"That's it," he encouraged, increasing the pace of his fingers. "Let go for me princess.” 

Your body betrayed you when he called you that, and you were sent over the edge, clenching around him. Lando was in heaven watching you finish in front of him. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back as you felt it all. 

You caught your breath, and Lando kept his hands on your waist to steady you. His eyes were still looking at you, filled with lust. Without a second thought, you crashed your lips to his and he pushed you up against the wall. Your lips fought angrily for dominance and it was filthy. 

“I want to remember this time,” you said, pulling back from his mouth. 

He grinned, “Oh, you’ll remember.” 

Grabbing your right leg, he lifted it so that he could line up with your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he pushed in slowly, his mouth covering yours to swallow the sounds of discomfort you made. 

The water continued to pour over you both as Lando began to move, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His lips never left yours, swallowing every gasp and moan that escaped.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, digging your nails into his back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Lando's pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency.

"Fuck," he groaned, breaking the kiss to bury his face in your neck. "You feel so good."

You wrapped your leg tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly and causing you both to cry out in pleasure. The new position allowed him to hit deeper, and you could feel the familiar tension building in your core.

"I'm close," you panted, your fingers tangling in his wet curls.

“Hold on, princess,” he panted. “Wait for me.”

You whimpered as you struggled to hold off your orgasm, but Lando was soon growling in your ear to let go. You clenched tightly around him as your climax hit you, and that sent him with you. Animalistic groans were coming from him as he came hard inside of you, and it was so hot that you felt yourself starting to build up again. Lando caught his breath and noticed, bringing his thumb down to rub your clit, not pulling out of you. 

“One more for me baby. Can you do that?” He cooed. Your back was arched off the wall, supported by his arm as he held you upright. He brought his lips to nip at your neck before sucking harshly, and your third orgasm slammed into you. Your other leg gave out completely, but Lando quickly caught you, holding you up against him. Too fucked out, you could barely process anything going on. 

“Let me take care of you okay?” He whispered. He made sure you could stand on your own before grabbing the body wash and rubbing it all along your body, being extra careful on your sensitive areas. When you were done, he wrapped you up in a big towel and helped you out. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking at you intensely. You smiled weakly at him.

“Yes, just a little overstimulated,” you said, and a look of guilt flashed over his face. “It’s not your fault, Lando, I asked for it. Let’s get changed, and I’ll make dinner, yeah?” 

He nodde,d and you briefly went your separate ways. You made soup for dinner and ate together in a peaceful silenc,e followed by both of you cleaning up. 

“Is it cold in here to you?” He asked, breaking the silence. You thought about it for a second and realized it had started to feel colder over the past hour. 

“Will you check the thermostat?” You asked and he nodded, jogging away. He came back a few minutes later with a frown on his face. 

“I think the heater is fucked,” he said, and your eyes widened. 

“Lando!” You exclaimed. “It’s supposed to be like ten degrees tonight.” 

“We could start a fire?” He suggested. “I don’t know how to, though.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering that you did, and he followed you into the living room while you got the fireplace going. You decided to watch a movie by the bed so the two of you settled onto the couch, on opposite ends. There was definitely an awkward tension in the air after the shower and you spent most of the movie thinking about it. 

You decided that you let yourself get carried away because you were horny and Lando was hot. Lando was also thinking about it. He didn’t like you that much. But he knew he would be jerking off to that scene for the rest of his life. And he had been having a good time here with you anyway. 

When the movie ended, the heat still wasn’t on, and you told Lando that you would strip your bed and set up a makeshift bed in front of the fireplace. He did the same, and the two of you got comfy and tried to get warm. 

An hour passed, and you still couldn’t fall asleep, still shivering despite the pile of blankets. 

“Y/n?” Lando whispered, and you lifted your head to see him looking at you. 

“What’s up?” You asked sleepily. 

“Are you still cold?” 

“A little,” you admitted. He moved his blankets up and beckoned you over. 

“Come over here, please; more body heat will work.”

You knew he was right, so you crawled over to his space, nestling yourself into his arms, his chest against your back. 

“Are we good?” He murmured into your ear, and you turned your head to look at him. 

“We are never good Norris,” you bit back but with no bite. “But why do you think that more this time?”

“I feel like you just shut down from me after,” he said, vulnerability filling his voice. 

Pausing for a moment, you debated how much you were willing to admit. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that,” you said softly. 

“Felt like what?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“Felt like I was safe,” you whispered, and his eyes softened. 

The last handful of hookups you had felt like performances you were expected to give. They were always with random guys you met who knew who you were and wanted the full y/n experience. It never felt like you could be truly comfortable like you were always on edge. But with Lando, you had completely let go. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he finally said, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“Now, what do we have here,” a voice said from above, waking you up. You blinked open your eyes to see Max and his girlfriend standing above you, both grinning. 

“The heat went out,” Lando mumbled from behind you. His arms were still wrapped tightly around you and he buried his head into your shoulder to avoid the lights. 

Max gave a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of you and Lando tangled together under a heap of blankets. His girlfriend nudged him, trying to stifle her own grin.

“The heat went out,” Lando repeated, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “And you’re way too loud for this early in the morning.”

“You’re just mad we caught you two all cozy,” Max teased, his grin widening. “Didn’t take you for the cuddly type, Norris.”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to escape the embarrassment. “Can we not do this right now?”

Max’s girlfriend finally stepped in, pulling him toward the door. “Alright, let’s give them a break. Besides, I’m freezing. Let’s see if anyone’s figured out how to fix the heat.”

As they left, you felt Lando shift behind you. “Well, that’s one way to start the morning,” he murmured, his voice still groggy but tinged with amusement.

You peeked out from under the blanket, turning slightly to look at him. “Thanks for the assist. I guess I owe you.”

He smirked, his face close to yours. “Oh, you definitely owe me. But I’ll let you make it up to me on the slopes later.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still ended up in my arms,” he quipped, pulling the blanket tighter around the two of you.

The rest of the ski trip passed in a blur of snowy adventures, playful banter, and fleeting moments like this one—moments that made you question if there was something deeper between you and Lando. He was still his usual cocky self, but every now and then, there was a softness in his gaze or a quiet moment shared on the ski lift that made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the weekend ended and the cabin was warm again, you couldn’t deny it anymore: maybe, just maybe, there was something about Lando Norris that felt like home—even if you’d never admit it to his face.

—----------snowboarding world championship—------------------

You were fighting back tears in your eyes as you were handed the second-place trophy after a long day. You had done it all but still came up short, and you knew you should be happy to even finish in the top three, but the competitor inside demanded more. 

The whole Quadrant team had flown out to support you, and you put on your best performance for them, convincing them that you weren’t breaking down inside. They wanted to go to dinner to celebrate, but you made an excuse for being exhausted and promised to celebrate tomorrow. 

You let the tears fall freely once you were back in your room. You stood in the shower while you sobbed at the failure of a season, letting the water scald your back. When there were no tears left to cry, you changed into a big t-shirt before finding a comfort movie to put on. You had just settled in when you heard someone knocking on your door. Slipping out of bed, you opened the door to see Lando standing there, a bag of Taco Bell in his hands. 

“Oh, princess,” he said, seeing your puffy eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you said weakly, but he was already wrapping you in his arms. You comforted yourself in his arms, sighing deeply to collect yourself. 

“I brought dinner,” he said, and you smiled, looking at the bag. Taco Bell was your favorite cheat meal; Keegan must have told him. 

Retreating to your room, he followed you, kicking off his shoes before climbing onto the bed. You joined him, picking out what you wanted from the bag before handing it back to him. 

“It was quite the performance you gave today to everyone,” Lando said, and you rolled your eyes and sighed. 

“I didn’t want to kill the mood,” you said, and he looked at you sympathetically. It was quiet as you both ate and then settled into the bed. 

“When did it stop hurting?” You asked softly, and Lando tore his attention away from the movie so he could look back at you. 

“It still hurts,” he said. “But the hurt drives my goals for next season. And I’ve learned to focus more on everything I accomplished and be proud of that.” 

You let his words sink in, trying to find comfort in them. 

“But you don’t have to think about that until later,” Lando said. “Right now, you are allowed to be angry and sad. That makes you who you are.” 

You blinked back, fresh tears at his words, your chest tightening. “I just wanted it so badly,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I know,” Lando said softly, his hand reaching out to intertwine with yours. “That’s what makes you great, Y/N. You care so much. But you don’t have to carry it all tonight.”

The two of you fell into a companionable silence, the movie playing in the background. Lando shifted closer, draping his arm over your shoulders. For once, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into the ache in your chest.

“Thanks for being here,” you murmured after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation, and you felt your heart flutter. It felt like everything clicked in that moment. What started as major dislike for the man lying next to you had turned into something else over the past couple of months. 

You thought back to the night in the cabin, how you felt in his arms like everything was right. And tonight, he was the only one who could see through you. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” He asked, looking down at you. 

“I just realized something,” you said, and his full attention was now on you. 

“What’s that?” 

“When I heard someone knocking on my door tonight, I had hoped it would be you,” you admitted softly. Lando smiled down at you softly.

Lando's smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pulled you closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder.

"I'm glad it was me," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "I couldn't bear the thought of you being alone tonight."

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, starkly contrasting to the hollow ache that had consumed you earlier. You shifted, turning to face him fully.

"Lando, I..." you started, then hesitated, unsure how to put your swirling emotions into words.

He waited patiently, his eyes never leaving yours. In them, you saw understanding, compassion, and something else—something that made your heart race.

"I think I'm falling for you," you finally whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

For a moment, Lando was silent, but then he sat up and quickly pulled you up onto his lap. 

“My heart is only yours to break,” he told you, and you felt a warmth fill your body. 

The next day, the Quadrant team rallied around you, as chaotic and supportive as ever. Keegan teased you about your “Taco Bell therapy,” Max insisted on a group breakfast, and Lando made it his mission to annoy you into laughing. By the time you packed up to head home, the sting of second place hadn’t completely faded, but it felt more manageable.

You carried the lessons of the championship with you—every triumph, every misstep, every moment of self-doubt. And as you boarded the plane, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of determination spark within you.

Lando caught your eye from across the aisle and raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Next season,” he mouthed, and you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

The next season was yours to take.

[landoslvr]

MRS TELEVISION | a. frederick

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs television'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x arthur frederick (arthurtv)

faceclaim: bri kerr

notes: first piece for mrs television out of the wag universe. bri is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs television, hopefully you like it!

liked by arthurtv, arthurfhill and 1,129 others

yourinstagram helped out on someone else's video for once, chris finally let me leave the dungeon!!!

view all 92 comments

user she kills me

user hottest producer award goes to...

chrismd_10 drinking on the job?

yourinstagram constantly

user she looks peppered in the 3rd slide

user first risky pic from y/n ever on the 6th slide

georgeclarkey thanks for the candid of me and my man 😌😌

arthurtv please someone get him away from me

user y/n's friend is inhaling that guinness 🫢

arthurtv great photography for the 1st and 3rd pictures, big fan!

yourinstagram humble as ever mr television

liked by georgeclarkey, wroetoshaw and 1,398 others

yourinstagram lots of fun at work recently, constantly mixing business and pleasure 🥂 chrismd thanks for keeping me employed even if I drink at work

view all 120 comments

user I can't tell if shes joking about drinking at work 😭

user its definitely a joke, most bts has y/n yelling at chris to pull his head in lol

user she keeps him in line!

yourinstagram have been going on 15 years

user we thank you for your service 🫡

arthurtv no jerseys at the match???

yourinstagram the nerve!

chrismd_10 who's that handsome fella in the last slide?

miniminter leave the md clutches and come to sidemen

yourinstagram throw in talia and you have a deal

georgeclarkey you drunk

yourinstagram seems to be the new normal now, just embracing my new brand (like you and your Invisalign ads)

georgeclarkey too far

liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,781 others

yourinstagram more of a traveller atm than a producer! enjoyed spain very very much, definitely swipe to the 8th slide to see what arthur classifies as a front flip

view all 328 comments

arthurtv it's called being flexible, you wouldn't know anything about it

yourinstagram your six-year-old sister does a better front flip than you

arthurtv leave flora out of this

user guys stop flirting in front of us 😭😭 the false hope hurts

georgeclarkey always appreciate meeting a fan

yourinstagram die

calfreezy that photo was sacred y/n

chrismd_10 I feel ashamed, embarrassed

willne the absolute cheek

user why is no one talking about how good y/n looks in these pictures??

faithlouisak Im thinking the same thing?

user literal island princess

user is that danny aarons in the 5th picture 😭😭

yourinstagram dont even ask how he got the invite

chrismd_10 we're still not sure tbh

liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,901 others

yourinstagram filmed a very *cool* video this week 🌨️

view all 234 comments

arthurtv again, who is your photographer???? such raw talent is exquisite

yourinstagram im very close to letting him go actually, you can have him!

user arthur being the first to comment on her posts fuels my mrs television heart really, give us something guys

user I love them at my core I can't lie

user she is just so pretty

chrismd_10 get back to work

yourinstagram I literally just want to breathe chris

user someone make chris let y/n go, she needs to be a free woman

bezhinga faiths phone is dead but she says 'u look leng'

yourinstagram I love you faith kelly x

liked by callux, arthurtv and 2,193 others

yourinstagram very good friends! (happy one year doofus)

view all 401 comments

user A WHOLE ASS YEAR???????

user who even are they????????

user I feel like I have been swindled here miss l/n

user can we finally call her mrs television??? shes more than chris' producer now, she's one of us

arthurtv best friends for life! (I love you very much)

user I can't tell if im going to cry or faint tbh

user why is he always playing chess, arthur PLEASE

yourinstagram I'm asking this question all the time?

chrismd_10 I take credit for this relationship btw

yourinstagram how so?

chrismd_10 if I hadn't sat with arthur in class and then dragged you into our group project, I like to think this wouldn't have happened

georgeclarkey I love all of the fans so much but please stop sending me these pictures of my fiancé wrapped around another woman

user GEORGE PLEASE

[girlgenius1111]

adrenaline junkie

r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.

disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.

At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.

There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.

You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.

You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.

-----

You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.

You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.

There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.

"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.

Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.

"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.

"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.

"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.

"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.

"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.

"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.

"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."

Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."

"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.

"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.

"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.

They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.

If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.

You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.

-----

Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.

Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.

You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.

"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.

"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.

"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.

You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.

"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.

"I just-"

"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.

"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.

"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.

"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."

"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."

They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.

"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."

"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.

Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.

"I know. You did, though."

"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."

"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.

"What do I do, Luce?"

"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."

You hoped she was right.

-----

You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.

You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.

When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.

"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.

"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.

"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.

"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."

"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.

"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."

You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.

"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."

Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."

You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.

"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.

"Yeah," you answer meekly.

"Dios mio," she mumbles.

"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.

"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."

"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.

"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.

"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.

She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."

"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.

"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"

"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."

She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.

-----

You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.

It wasn't your fault.

Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.

-----

HA.

part 2 tomorrow :)

[koolades-world]

Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.

I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.

Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!

hi there! i can do that :)

hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me

enjoy!

Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself

Diavolo

he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert

you've never seen him more serious

he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack

he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3

Barbatos

if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you

since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future

in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it

perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)

Simeon

he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what

even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit

you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever

let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3

Luke

he's immediately freaking out

what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!

100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you

the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha

Solomon

he's very impressed!

gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice

deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable

even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha

Mephisto

he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation

he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness

it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is

if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections

Thirteen

she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time

she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large

but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before

she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33

Raphael

he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright

but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way

he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side

he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FOUR

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 9.7k notes: mama a MASTERLIST behind you 💜 lots of filler content but it's kinda pivotal ig 😛 hope you're all enjoying, reading all of your comments makes my day 🫶

‘South Carolina Basketball Star Apologizes for Destruction Tour'

After a month of out of control behavior, Tess Kennedy has officially put an end to her destruction tour. In a heartfelt message on her socials, Kennedy apologizes to her team, coaches and staff, and basketball fans and she opens up about how her ACL injury “flipped [her] world upside down.”

“My injury forced me to consider a future where I could not play basketball,” Kennedy writes. “I moved to the States at a young age and basketball was the one thing that made me feel at home here. Believing that I’d lost basketball made me feel like I’d lost the one place I belonged. My thoughts were, ‘if I can’t play, then what’s the point?’”

Many fans responded well to Kennedy’s apology, understanding the guard’s feeling of homelessness. Many others appreciate the candor. One commenter noted that athletes don’t tend to discuss the darker parts of the ACL injury, claiming that this transparency is paramount in making mental health resources more accessible and more normalized for athletes. There are others who are firm in their belief that Kennedy’s reaction was unacceptable. Supporters rallied in defense for Kennedy.

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: USER THOMASBLINKY39: “GOOD ATTEMPT AT SAVING FACE. YOU OVERREACTED AND LET DOWN MANY, ESPECIALLY YOUNG GIRLS WHO LOOK UP TO YOU. TELL YOUR PR MANAGERS TO WRITE A BETTER APOLOGY NEXT TIME.” | USER TESSKENNEDYUPDATES: “IT’S THE SAME WITH YOU PEOPLE, ISN’T IT? A MAN IS ALLOWED TO REACT. A WOMAN CAN ONLY OVERREACT. DON’T PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND WHAT TESS IS GOING THROUGH. ALL YOUR COMMENT DOES IS SHOW THE YOUNG GIRLS YOU PRETEND TO CARE ABOUT THAT THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FEEL AND FALL APART WHEN THEY’RE HURT. TESS SHOWS THEM THAT THEY CAN COME BACK EVEN STRONGER.” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Reactions aside, one thing is for certain. Tess Kennedy is fully on the road to recovery and things are looking up for her.

“I’m connected with great physical therapists to rehab my knee and I am meeting with a psychologist to address my mental health and alcohol dependence,” Kennedy shares. “I am thankful for my friends, family, and support system. They were patient and loved me when I couldn’t love myself. This process hasn’t been pretty and it won’t look pretty for a while – but I owe it to myself to do what I need to so I can play the game I love again. This is a new opportunity to compete, only I’m against myself this time, and the one promise I can make is that I don’t lose to the same opponent twice.”

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 9, 2023

Tess’s alarm wakes her on Tuesday morning. It takes her a moment to blink the sleep out of her eyes, still feeling the residual exhaustion from accidentally staying up later than she’d been accustomed to the past week. It’s only 8am, but she can hear Kamilla and Bree milling about in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast, quietly laughing over the gentle hum of whatever music they have playing. Tess hauls herself out of bed, stretching the ache out of her body and making her way into the bathroom.

Tess was never usually one for sleeping in. It was a hard habit to break after years of being up bright and early to go on morning runs and hit the gym. She fell off of that part in her routine after her surgery, and although she can’t exactly do much running or lifting currently, trying to repair her sleep schedule and other routines helps bring back some normalcy in her life. So far, it was working pretty well, though it’s been a struggle to figure out what to do with her time on the days she doesn’t have PT in the morning.

As she brushes her teeth in the bathroom, she’s distracted by thoughts of the upcoming 12 hour drive she’ll have to power through. It was her only choice – she wasn’t cleared for air travel just yet, so it’s an unfortunate fact of life she’ll just have to deal with. She’s less stoked about the long conversation she’ll have to have with her parents. Between PT and her other obligations, Tess hasn’t really had the time to truly sit down and give her parents the closure they deserved. They’d texted and called numerous times; Tess felt terrible for ignoring most of it, but she just couldn’t stomach their worry and disappointment. She couldn’t stomach her own shortcomings, either, nor the fact that she let it get so bad and that she iced out the people who have been in her corner since day one. The more she thinks about how she ghosted her own parents and let them watch her crash and burn through gossip articles and online videos, the more she feels like she’s going to throw up.

She can’t avoid it forever, though. Not when there’s nothing between her and her parents besides their car’s center console and 715 miles of open road.

Tess rinses her mouth out, splashing water on her face, reaching for her cleanser and moisturizer. When she begins applying her skincare, it’s the first good look she gets of her face all morning. She stares at herself for a long moment. The bags under her eyes are fading and her cheeks finally have their fullness back. She feels okay – she really does, which she thinks is a weird feeling to celebrate, but she’s celebrating it regardless, knowing she’s felt anything but okay in the past month. The one feature, however, that almost brings a smile to her face is the subtle shine in her eyes, the flash of life that has otherwise been missing.

She looks good. She feels good. That much is enough to improve her mood. She ventures out into the kitchen, grinning at Kamilla and Bree who look up with matching smiles as they work. Kamilla is flipping something in a pan at the stove while Bree chops veggies. “Hey, guys. Need a hand?”

Kamilla shakes her head, waving the spatula at her in a way that reminds Tess of her nonna. “Nuh-uh. Sit. You want an omelette?”

Knowing better than to test Kamilla, Tess slides into a stool, careful of her knee. “Yes please.”

Kamilla hums, cracking a few more eggs into a bowl, adding milk, and whisking them together. “We didn’t wake you or anything, right?” Bree asks, dumping some peppers and onions into Kamilla’s bowl. Bree lowers the volume on their music just slightly so she can hear Tess’s response.

“Nah,” she reassures her. “I had an alarm set. My parents should be here around noon.”

Kamilla turns on her heel suddenly. “Oh, speaking of, you got a package like, twenty minutes ago. It’s by the door. What the hell did you buy? It was heavy as shit.”

Tess can’t help the flush that covers her cheeks, though she doesn’t understand why Kamilla’s question makes her feel as though she’s been caught red-handed. “Uh, I might have bought a PS5,” she admits, and Bree snorts. Tess shoots her an indignant look. “My therapist says I need new hobbies. Turns out I had zero personality outside of basketball, so I’m trying to find out what else I like.”

“Besides a certain blonde hooper, of course,” Bree says, straight-faced and deadpan. Kamilla nudges her with her elbow and they both break out into giggles.

Tess narrows her eyes. “You guys aren’t funny. We are literally just friends.”

“Well, you said y’all was strictly business last week, so which is it?” Bree teases. “I saw those photos of y’all at the airport, too. You looked heartbroken –”

“Stop,” Tess whines, burying her face in her hands. “It’s just for the media.”

“Cheer up, T,” Kamilla says comfortingly. Tess looks up to watch as Kamilla dumps the omelette onto a plate, sliding it her way with a fork. “Bree’s just jealous. The football player she’s been plottin’ on for months has a girlfriend back home, so she’s sad.”

Bree gasps, shooting her a scandalized look. “First of all, I wasn’t plotting on Shawn. I was just testing the waters, and the waters say football players are not husband material. Second of all –” Bree redirects her attention to Tess, whose fork hovers halfway to her mouth as she stares at her teammate, “–Tess is the worst actress I’ve ever seen in my life. Remember that time we tried to plan a surprise party for Aliyah and Tess couldn’t stop grinning the entire day?”

“That’s different!” Tess interrupts, the egg falling off of her fork. She groans as she scoops it up again. “I can’t lie to my friends. But I can lie to the media.”

“No the hell you can’t!” Bree retorts. “You can’t control your face. That’s why you trend on Twitter after pressers because half of the country turns you into a meme.”

Tess’s face falls. “Wait, they do that?”

Bree points at her as Kamilla snorts. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Anyways!” She claps her hands, gathering her thoughts. “You can’t control your face. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Which is why I know that look on your face at the airport was real. You aren’t lying to the media – you’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. You fuck with Paige, whether you’ve realized that or not.”

Tess’s face burns red as her thoughts race. “What are you, my therapist? I don’t fuck with Paige, whatever the hell you mean by that.” Bree narrows her eyes at her, and Tess has to look away. “Christ,” Tess mutters, fingers pressing into her temple. “Look, me and Paige are just friends. I’m just a mess emotionally with everything going on and she’s like, the only person I’ve hung out with that’s not you two.”

Kamilla nudges Bree with her elbow, drawing her attention as she breaks her silence. “Maybe we don’t need to grill her on this now,” she suggests, but her tone of voice leads Tess to believe that it’s more of a demand. “She’s going through a lot. Let her friendships just be friendships.” Tess shoots her a grateful look as Bree sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Bree says after a while. “I know you – you’re my girl, Tess. You’re not good at lying, or keeping secrets, or pretending, or doing anything casual. You’re real, maybe blunt to a fault, and you always give everything your all. I just want you to be careful. Blurring those lines with Paige can make things really complicated and you need to focus on recovery – not her.”

Tess frowns, pushing around the egg on her plate. She suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore. The anxiety creeps up into her chest, kickstarting her heart, and she has to breathe through the what-ifs and the slight panic that comes with questioning everything you’ve known for the past week. “I know you mean well, Bree, but I’m good,” Tess states once she gathered her thoughts. She gives her two teammates a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and judging by the way Bree deflates, she knows that she knows she’s soured the mood. “Trust. I’m not going to fall for Paige and I’m not going to blur those lines. We’re just friends who have to make the best of a weird situation because we fucked up our reputations. Nothing more.”

Bree stares at her long and hard, as if she doesn’t believe her. Tess doesn’t believe herself, either, but she has all the time in the world to start convincing herself that she’s just fine with her situation and there’s nothing to read into. “If you’re sure,” is what Bree says instead.

Tess can only give a half-hearted nod, suddenly feeling a lot less sure.

Her parents arrive shortly after noon as expected. She moved all of her packed belongings to the living room, anticipating their arrival, and she’d nearly teleported to the door once she heard the knock. Kamilla and Bree made themselves scarce after their uncomfortable conversation after breakfast. Tess isn’t sure if it’s because they knew that she needed time alone with her parents or because they were regretting bringing up the Paige situation at all. Maybe it was a mix of both, but Tess remembers she has other things to worry about as she opens the door to her apartment, coming face to face with her parents.

Her mother and her father, Alessandra and Mateo, stand just a few inches taller than she does with her father tallest of their trio. When she was younger, she used to hate that she stopped growing at 5’10 when her parents were 6’0 and 6’3 respectively. It used to make her feel small, like she wasn’t meeting her potential. Now, after everything she’s been through, she falls directly into their open arms and it feels like coming home all over again. They wrap her up tightly, engulfing her completely, and she finds that she has a newfound respect for being the shortest of them.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels her tears soak her mother’s blouse and her mother starts smoothing the hair at the crown of her head. The gentle touch is enough for the dam to finally break. Tess shudders through heaving sobs as her parents hold her tighter, whispering pleasantries in murmured Italian that only makes her wish she’d never shut them out. She wishes she asked them to come down for her surgery, that she asked them to take her home after the fact. She wishes she was cognizant enough to have asked for their help before she let everything consume her. It’s too late for ill-timed wishes, although there’s still plenty of time for her to make up for her misgivings.

Her parents let her cry until there’s nothing left, and only then do they pull away. Her mother wipes away the residual tear tracks on her cheeks with her thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as her father stares at her with a look that mirrors both his concern and his love for her. She stares back at him, at her mother, at the two people who have dropped nearly everything to support her and her dreams. They let her have her way when she couldn’t bear to see anyone after her surgery, they let her have her way when she wanted to move several hundred miles down south for basketball because she believed in what Coach Staley was preaching. Tess feels so much remorse and grief and love constrict around her heart and she can’t stop herself when she rushes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I–”

“You have nothing to apologize for, piccola,” her father says, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, but his understanding does nothing to quell the guilt.

“Yes I do,” she chokes out, eyes wide as she stares at the both of them, fresh tears beading at her waterline. “I got hurt and I pushed you guys away and I almost killed myself. I spiraled for a month straight and said awful things and almost ruined my knee for good. People tried so hard to help me and I didn’t let them.”

Her mother squeezes her hand, smiling softly at her. “We are your parents. You do not need to do anything to earn our forgiveness. You have it. Unconditionally.”

Tess’s lip trembles. She tries to fight the tears. “That’s not how that works,” she says weakly. 

“Some things don’t have to work any certain way,” her father says. “Sometimes they just are. We’re proud of you, Tess.”

Growing up, people always said that Tess was a mix of her parents. She had her mother’s coiled, dark brown hair, her laugh, her nose, her sarcasm. She had her father’s eyes, his smile, his heart, his drive. Now, she’s beginning to realize that the trait her parents share – their ability to forgive – hasn’t quite reached her just yet.

“You don’t need forgiveness from other people,” her mother says, halting her racing thoughts. “You just need to forgive yourself, sweet girl. Learn from this, bounce back and recover, but you cannot do any of that if you hold the blame close to your heart.”

“I’m trying,” Tess confesses.

Several thoughts swim in her brain. She hears it all. Trying isn’t enough. Try harder. Why did you let it get this bad in the first place? It takes her far too long to realize the voice is her own. Her parents would never say any of that to her. But what they do say instead is, “Sometimes trying is all you can do,” and that’s enough to make her bottom lip wobble again. She launches herself back into their arms as her father continues, “We know you can heal from this. We know it’s hard. But you need to believe in yourself and try.”

The words get stuck in her throat as she tries to breathe through the pounding in her chest. All she can manage is a nod, but they understand her – they always do. Her parents hold her until she comes back to earth, her mother flashing a familiar smile at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Tess nods again, wiping her cheeks again. “Yeah. Just let me say bye to Kam and Bree first.”

Her parents nod, picking up her suitcase, her backpack, and her Amazon box by the door. They exit her apartment with her belongings in tow as Tess makes her way to Bree’s door first, knocking on it gently and waiting for her to open it.

When Bree does, she opens her arms immediately and Tess falls into her embrace. “Have a safe drive, okay?” Bree says, squeezing her. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Tess promises, pulling away.

“Listen,” Bree says. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t be in your business like that.”

Tess shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know where you’re coming from. Thank you for looking out for me. Just trust that I can look out for myself, too?”

“Done,” she agrees, and she sweeps Tess into one last hug before saying her goodbyes and venturing back into her room.

Kamilla’s room is her final stop. She doesn’t even have to knock before Kamilla opens the door and wraps her arms around Tess. “Don’t miss me too much,” Tess says jokingly, and Kamilla laughs, her chin resting on Tess’s head.

“Too late,” her best friend states. “Come home, Tess Kennedy. The kids miss you.”

Tess grins, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, Kam. I gotta go my own way.”

Kamilla pulls away but smiles fondly at Tess. “Text me when you’re home safe. I don’t care how late it is.”

“I will,” she promises again. Kamilla wraps her up one more time, saying goodbye, and returning to her room.

When Tess makes it back to the living room, her parents are back and empty handed. Tess smiles at them, slipping her crutches under her arms, and together, the three of them begin the 12 hour journey back to Brooklyn.

The first few hours of the drive are dedicated to the much needed conversation with her parents. Tess recaps the last few weeks to her them, explaining her thought process, the loneliness, the near constant knee pain. It’s all smooth sailing until she reaches last week’s events and the meeting with Amaya. She honestly has all intentions of leaving out the Paige situation, not wanting to lie to her parents because she and Paige agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone. If there was one thing Bree was right about, it was the fact that Tess was a shitty liar, and she would prefer to avoid the situation as a whole.

“So what about that blonde guard you’ve been hanging out with?” her dad asks innocently, completely ruining her entire plan.

Fuck. So much for that.

“Um,” she says smartly, a blush rising on her cheeks. Her dad glances up, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror, and his lips twitch into a smirk. “We’re taking things slow right now,” she says slowly. “Paige reached out after I tore my ACL and offered her condolences. I didn’t really want to accept help from anyone, but she flew out and surprised me after my meeting with Amaya, and, I don’t know, but it was really nice.”

“Do you like her?” her mother asks.

“Mamma,” she groans, exasperated. Her mom levels her with a look that makes her insides crumble. She remembers that her and Paige aren’t even publicly official, so what’s the harm in downplaying it? “I mean, she gets it, you know?” She gets me, is the clarification that goes unsaid, but Tess gets the idea that her parents understand her meaning just the same. “We play on different teams. I didn’t, um, want to let her get close,” she says tactfully, feeling as the words hit a little too close to home. “But I couldn’t stop it. I like being her friend and talking to her. That’s good enough for me for now.”

Her parents share a look in the front seat. Tess is sweating bullets in the back, trying desperately to distract herself by flipping her phone mindlessly in her hand. Truth be told, she’s not even sure where the truth ends and the lie begins. This whole situation is so messy, she thinks to herself, only snapping out of her thoughts when her mother speaks up. “Well, you sound happy,” she says, which genuinely surprises Tess. Another thing Bree was right about. She cannot control her expressions. “She may be good for you, piccola.”

Tess swallows thickly, craning her head to stare out the window. The trees on the side of the interstate pass by in a blur. She finds them much more interesting to look at now. “I hope so,” Tess says, the words coming to her easily.

Thankfully, her mother cranks up the AC and adjusts in her seat, aiming to take a power nap before she swaps places with Tess’s father to finish out the drive. Her father glances at her once more through the rear view, a knowing smile on his face, which unsettles Tess more than she’d like to admit, but the underlying softness in his eyes makes it hard to be too worried. Releasing a deep breath, she pulls her own blanket over her legs, pops her earbuds in, and leans against the car door as she closes her eyes, hoping to speed the drive along by sleeping through it. They still had another 10 hours to go, and Tess will be close to losing it if she has to talk about Paige for any longer.

The rest of their drive passes in relative peace. Tess crashes for a few hours and wakes up in time to order dinner from a drive-thru. Her parents switch driving duty an hour later at the closest rest stop and Tess takes the time to get out of the car to stretch her leg and use the bathroom. She stocks up on a couple of overpriced vending machine snacks, and before she knows it, they’re back on the road again.

She tries to nap again, but after the three hour snooze she took, she feels more restless than anything. Combined with being in the car for six hours, she’s ready to start running laps, knee be damned. She’s running out of playlists to listen to and she can only play Subway Surfers for so long before she starts getting exhausted of it. As if she senses her turmoil, a text from Paige comes through, and Tess can almost cry with relief, knowing that the blonde will have something stupid to say that will distract her.

Are you alive?

barely the longer we drive the more i wish i took a plane there’s got to be a donor somewhere out there who can give me their knee

So I don’t think that’s actually how that works!

so i don’t think you’re qualified to say that!

I am The ladies call me Dr. Bueckers Okay that was actually worded really bad

“the ladies” huh

Please don’t make this a thing I regretted it as soon as I sent it

every day i wonder how and why girls throw themselves at you you literally can’t flirt for shit you just annoy people and say the stupidest things so confidently

Well you’re still talking to me I think it works

my choices right now are entertaining you or staring out the window for another six hours

This is progress cause a week ago you would have said you’d prefer to stare out the window Tess Kennedy MIGHT like me 🤩

paige bueckers MIGHT be delusional 🤩

The line between delusion and manifestation is thin but I get what I want so just keep on hating

ok bars ur still delusional though

One day I’ll get you to admit it I’ve grown on you

much like a fungus

You think I’m a fun guy!

[8 Ball]

Don’t deflect

are you chicken?

Okay I see how it is

Tess and Paige probably set the record for the most pool games played in one sitting, which is surprising for two reasons. The first being the fact that Paige apparently had nothing going on for six hours, the second being the fact that Paige actually sat and played pool with Tess for six hours. Tess’s eyes had started drooping around 11:30 pm, but she and Paige were tied in how many wins they had (318 each – they kept track in a shared note), so she kept pushing through, even though her eyes burned and she wanted to crash. When Tess claims victory 319, Paige almost loses it.

You’re actually cheating

how tf am i cheating at 8 ball?

You seem like the type to take a screenshot and use the ruler

i’ll have you know i’m a woman of honor and integrity you’re just ass

You say the nicest things Okay one last round and I need to go to bed You’re almost home right?

we have like 20 more min yeah

Lock in

Tess, in fact, does not lock in. Six hours of pool is probably detrimental to her eyesight, so she cuts her losses and accepts one final draw between her and Paige. 319 each is good enough for her – especially with the time inching closer and closer to midnight and the fact she’ll likely see the pool table in her sleep.

Rematch tomorrow?

i don’t think i can ever play 8 ball again it will be too soon when my therapist said to find a new hobby i don’t think this is what she meant

You’re welcome!

i did not say thank you

You didn’t have to But you’re welcome for spending 6 hours on 8 ball with you

thank you

Oh my God that sounded genuine

and you just killed the moment

We were having a moment? 🤭

ok goodnight don’t text me again

You’ll miss me Lemme know when you’re home for real I’ll stay up

you don’t have to

So notice how that wasn’t the request

fine i'll let you know

Paige simply reacts to her message with a heart, and with a soft smile, Tess shuts her phone off and finally gives it a rest after six hours of non-stop use. Her screen time was probably off the charts, but that’s a problem for another time.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive passes by quickly and before she knows it, her mom is pulling into the driveway of their house. Tess could cry in relief, though whether it’s from lingering homesickness or the need to get out of the car, she doesn’t know. Her mother shakes her father awake and together, the two of them grab Tess’s bags from the back while she slips her crutches under her arms as they make their way into the house.

Tess hardly has the time to soak it all in. The last time she was home was during spring break, but right now, her main concern is hauling her ass to bed and passing out. Her parents carefully deposit her belongings on the floor in her room. Sharing one last hug for the night and exhausted goodnights, her parents leave her be and Tess all but collapses into bed. She adjusts the pillow under her knee, plugs in her phone, and opens her messages with Paige.

i'm home

Paige’s response is near instantaneous. Tess wonders if she was hovering, patiently waiting for her message before she let sleep consume her. Tess doesn’t dwell on it, not liking the way the thought made her chest tighten.

Thank you Night ma 🫶

Tess bids her goodnight, too, and she shuts her phone off, placing it on the bedside table. She stares at the ceiling, wondering why Paige’s message leaves an almost foreign stirring feeling in her stomach. But as her eyes slip shut, she determines she’ll just have to deal with it at another time, and she lets sleep finally take her.

MAY 11, 2023 - JUNE 20, 2023

The next month of Tess’s life passes in a blur of PT, weekly therapy appointments, mentoring from various Liberty members (although that was unplanned for), movie nights with her parents, and truthfully far too much Fortnite with Paige. She had her first PT appointment with Theresa, or Terri as she’d insisted Tess call her, on May 11th. As her appointment was in between the Liberty’s first two preseason matches, Tess saw a lot more of the Liberty players than she was expecting to. Stewie is taller than her Wikipedia led Tess to believe and Betnijah was even prettier in person. They all expressed their condolences as they filtered in and out for last minute screenings and check ups, and Tess couldn’t quite lose her stupefied awe no matter how many pros she talked to. She even got a follow back from Stewie, who joked that she was “alright for a Gamecock.” 

Tess genuinely felt like she won the lottery. She couldn’t believe Sabrina had reached out for her or that it was even this easy in the first place, though she probably has to give more credit to the Liberty front office for granting their permission and monopolizing on the opportunity. So far, it’s been pretty mutualistic — Tess works with Terri, learns from seasoned veterans, cleans up her image a little more, and honestly increases her draft stock through league exposure; in turn, the Liberty monopolizes on Tess’s branding and status as a college athlete, aiding in growing the scene. There’s a lot of viewers out there who tune in solely for college athletics. The Liberty have already reported an increase in traffic on their websites and even some ticket sales, which Tess is honestly surprised by. She still has another year minimum in college; the fact that people are tuning in for her (when she isn’t even in the league yet) and the fact that she’s helping grow the WNBA simply by hanging out with the Liberty and rehabbing her knee is insane. 

That was something Paige had teased her relentlessly about when they both found the time to FaceTime that Friday. Paige’s flight back to Minnesota was delayed a few hours, so she spent most of Thursday at the airport. She and Tess were supposed to chat after she landed, but the blonde went straight to bed once she made it home. 

“With the 1st pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the New York Liberty select—”

“Okay, you’re not funny,” Tess gripes, narrowing her eyes at Paige, who can’t control her laughter from across the screen. Tess is in the middle of setting up her Playstation account, trying — and failing — to remember where most of the buttons are on the controller. Paige already has Fortnite loaded up on her screen and tries her best to help Tess with the logistics, but she keeps getting sidetracked. “The Liberty won’t have first pick for a hot minute. And you’d think they’d take me over Caitlin?”

“Stop talking about other women!” Paige cries. “Am I not enough for you or what?”

“You are so easy to mess with, it’s unreal,” Tess states. She leans in closer to her screen. “What the hell is L1?”

“Top button on the left,” Paige supplies. “The one on the back is the trigger, L2.”

Tess sighs, pressing the button and finishing up some of her customization as she navigates her way to the console store to download Fortnite. “Nerd,” she says under her breath, but the indignant gasp from Paige is the only reaction she needs. “Honestly,” she begins, hesitating slightly. “I might not declare in 2024.”

“What?” Paige blurts. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting ball. An angel just lost its wings.”

“Not like that!” Tess rushes to say. She stares at the download bar as it fills up, not looking at Paige. “I was talking to Sabrina this morning — chill, she is grown and she has a man —” her words do nothing to quell Paige’s dramatic huff, “and she suggested I use my redshirt eligibility and take an extra year. I mean, I’ll be back in time for March Madness and can play a few games with the new redshirting rules, though I’m honestly not feeling confident in returning from an injury, taking on high level play with little to no practice, then declaring for the draft fresh off of recovery. I’m not, like, worried about my ability, but from a purely logistical standpoint, no team would willingly want to draft me in this condition, right? It wouldn’t be safe. I wouldn't be a reliable pick. I feel like it would be good for me to stay, get back into it, and declare when I’m actually at my best.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, and when Tess glances down at her phone, she can see that Paige is deep in thought. When she finally responds, her voice is soft. “I know what you mean. I think you should,” she says. “Stay, I mean. I don’t think I’m declaring in 2024, either.”

Tess smiles knowingly at her. “Oh, you just wanna keep getting dunked on by me, huh?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but grins at her. “You’re 5’10. Only way you’re dunking is if they lower the rims.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You started it!” They dissolve into laughter. Tess’s download finally finishes and she opens Fortnite. “I’m serious, though,” Paige continues thoughtfully. “I’ve missed so many games due to injuries. I want a healthy offseason. A healthy season in general. A natty.”

“I always forget you barely have two seasons worth of games played,” Tess admits. “Your stats are kinda crazy.”

Paige smiles smugly. “Super efficient, I know. Don’t get too jealous.”

Tess scoffs. “Every time I say something nice, I immediately regret it. You can never just say thank you, can you?”

“Thank you, Tess Kennedy, I can’t wait until we play each other in 2025 and I stat pad my 3-point percentages 'cause you can’t guard me,” Paige declares confidently. 

Tess’s jaw falls open. “I’m more likely to go #1 in the draft than you are to score on me,” she states. Paige raises a brow, as if to say really? and Tess rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “Okay, friend me or something. I don’t know how this works.”

“What’s your Playstation name?”

“tkennedy25.”

“Super original,” Paige says dryly, but quickly enough, she gets a friend request from pboogers1. “Don’t ask.” Tess accepts it with a wry smirk, as well as the party invitation. She watches as Paige’s character spawns on her screen, fully decked out. Tess’s character honestly looks like a loser next to hers, though it’s probably because her starting character is a man. “Where’s your drip at?”

“I don’t know,” Tess whines. “Why am I a man?”

“You gotta play more to get skins,” Paige supplies unhelpfully. “Are you ready to spend the next month playing Fortnite?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope! Ready up!”

Tess does just that. Her first few games are frustrating. She’s still getting accustomed to the button layout and the building in the game sucks, but Paige has endless patience (somehow) and Tess finds herself having more and more fun as Paige tries to guide her through it. She spends a fair bit of time begging for Paige to revive her (fall damage is not a fun concept) and even more time yelling that she’s getting shot at. They’re halfway through a match and making their way into the zone when they come across another duo.

“Flank them!”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Tess cries, trying to aim and shoot. Multitasking has never been so difficult.

“I’m at the top of the key,” Paige says. “Go to one of the wings.”

“What do you – ohhhhh.” Tess does as instructed and with both her and Paige firing, the other players are quickly taken down, leaving their loot. “Wait. Why was that actually a good call?”

“There may be hope for you yet, ma,” Paige says, placing a hand over her heart like she’s swooning, and it’s enough to make Tess crack a smile despite the flush on her cheeks.

When they take the win at the end of the round, Tess isn’t sure who’s more surprised – her or Paige. Tess drops her controller on her bed as she cheers – loudly – and Paige buries her head in her hands. If her knee was in better shape, she’s certain she’d be taking victory laps by now.

“I can’t believe you stole my fucking kill,” Paige says in near disbelief. “I did so much damage–”

“Oh, my God!” Tess screams, not processing any of Paige’s words. “We won! Did you see that?” she asks excitedly, barely hearing Paige’s initial response. She digs around in her blankets to locate her phone. When she finally fishes it out, Paige is already gazing at her through the screen, face and smile softening as she takes in Tess’s excitement.

“I did,” Paige confirms. Tess finally keys in on her stupid grin and she feels the flush travel the length of her body.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Paige exclaims, and her grin widens. “Just proud, s’all. You went from not knowin’ where X was to gunning people down.”

“We make a good team,” Tess says nonchalantly, but, fuck, Bree is always right – she can’t keep the dumb expression off her face. Her eyes are bright with elation, with the satisfaction that comes with finally understanding something. Paige’s raw honesty and the simple ‘Just proud’ means something different coming from her, even if her pride stems from Tess sucking just a little less at a video game.

Paige’s smile turns tender, and instead of a witty remark, her voice is soft when she admits, “Yeah, we do,” and it makes the warmth creep onto Tess’s cheeks once more. “Couple more?” she asks hopefully. “I got nothin’ but time.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of their day, learning more and more about each other in between game queues and early game rotations. Tess eventually has to get off to save her eyesight and do some PT, but it’s hard to get rid of her smile even after she shuts off the console and she and Paige hang up. When she ventures out of her room for dinner, Tess tries her best to ignore her parents’ knowing smiles. The look in their eyes explains more than their words ever could, and briefly, as she’s layering salad on her plate, Tess thinks of a future where everything is less complicated, where she and Paige don’t have to put a fake label to something they’re not.

But that thought sounds suspiciously like something Tess isn’t ready to face, so she wipes it from her brain and drizzles the balsamic over her salad.

On Saturday, Paige introduces her to Drew. He’s off school for the weekend and Paige asked if she’d be interested in running trios with him. Tess honestly couldn’t think of a world where she’d say no to that, to learning more about who Paige Bueckers is outside of basketball and being a charming mix of annoying and unbelievably sweet. Looks aside, Tess would have assumed that Paige and Drew were fully blood related the way their mannerisms were exactly the same, all the way down to their sassy, “Alright now,” that never failed to make her laugh. Drew tells her all about how his classes are going and how he’s going to be better than Paige at basketball one day. Tess is pretty sure she and Drew become best friends when she tells him, “I think you’re already better than her,” and Paige gasps so indignantly that she almost chokes.

Tess is an only child, but with the speed at which she and Drew bond, she thinks he might become an honorary brother. She’s so focused on Drew that she misses the look of complete adoration on Paige’s face, the tender curve of her smile. She only registers something is off because Paige is unnaturally quiet – which never happens because Paige has a near inability to shut up. It was something Tess had to convince herself was annoying, but now she knows it’s just another part of who Paige is.

“Lock in, Paigey,” Drew tells her, realizing she’s unfocused, too, and his demand makes Tess erupt in laughter.

“Bro, I am locked in!” she exclaims.

The three of them load into the game and Drew drops a marker in the middle of the map. He looks at Paige with an expression that is menacing in the way only a younger sibling can ever be capable of. “You should pay more attention to the game,” he says innocently, “and less on your girlfriend.”

“Drew!” Paige cries, her face reddening. Tess feels the burn on her cheeks but she can’t stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter. Paige drops her controller long enough to bury her face in her hands in exasperation. Drew’s giggles are infectious, which makes it harder for Tess to get the air back in her lungs. “Bro, do not kill my girlfriend. I will hunt you down, swear.”

Drew sticks his thumb and index fingers up in an L shape, shoving his hand in Paige’s face, who pushes him back dramatically. “You both need to lock in,” Tess gripes, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “You promised me a win, Paigey.”

Paige scoffs, picking her controller back up. Together, the three of them begin their descent, along with dozens of other players, into the most populated location on the map. “Don’t trip, ma. You know I got you.”

Tess hums, unconvinced. Eventually, they do end up taking the win at the end of the match, which results in Drew showboating after he successfully stole the final kill from Paige. Tess giggles as she watches him run a victory lap around their living room over the phone. Paige meets Tess’s eyes, a fond expression on her face, although she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. The blonde isn’t a different person around her brother by any means. She’s still sarcastic, freakishly charming, but there’s an underlying softness in how she speaks to him that reminds Tess of how Paige speaks to her. She’s not soft because Drew is younger or needs coddling, but Tess suspects that Paige just treats him that way because Drew just means that much to her. There’s an immeasurable amount of care in her heart that most people miss simply because Paige likes to tease, but having grown up similarly, Tess is fine-tuned to the way Paige shows her love, fine-tuned to the way it manifests in their own friendship.

For the next month and some change, this is their routine. Tess and Paige spend hours on FaceTime playing Fortnite. Sometimes it’s with Drew, who yaps just as much as Paige does, but as the time goes by, Tess finds that she truly enjoys listening to the both of them go on. They talk about their blended family and their other siblings, Ryan and Lauren. Paige lights up when Tess asks more about them – it’s obvious that she’s an amazing older sister and her siblings clearly adore her. In turn, Tess opens up about her cousins. Her mother had fertility issues and Tess was their miracle baby; her cousins were the closest people she had to siblings, and she wouldn’t change a thing about it. One day, Drew declared that Tess is his sister now, too, and that was enough to shock Paige and make Tess tear up.

Other times, it’s just her and Paige hanging out alone. They talk about any and everything, poking fun at each other over the simplest things, laughing at stupid shit, and stirring the pot online when they share photos of their wins with cringey captions like, “my duo.”

Tess has never verbalized it before, but she knew it was just as true: Paige gets her. The knee, the on-court pressure, their other shared interests. The understanding between her and Kamilla is different from the one between her and Paige. She lacks the ability to define it, and honestly, she’s not sure how important the actual definition is anymore. She’s acutely aware of just how much of her life she’s inadvertently dampened by trying to understand something before experiencing it. The moral is that Paige has quickly become an integral facet in her life. That thought doesn’t scare her as much as it used to.

“Okay, so what do you notice that’s different about me?” Tess asks coyly one day after she props her phone up on her nightstand, taking a few cautious steps backwards. She places her hands on her hips, watching as Paige taps her chin dramatically.

“Wait, you’re not using your crutches anymore!” the blonde exclaims.

“Nope! Officially cleared.” Tess wiggles her leg, a beaming grin on her face. “Still got the brace, though.”

Their friendship progresses over the month and so does Tess’s recovery. Her wins easily become Paige’s wins. Paige celebrates her with just as much enthusiasm as she celebrates wins on the court, all teeth and wide smiles when Tess reports back with crucial developments in therapy or new developments with her knee. Tess is just as invested in Paige’s life as she is in hers; Tess “officially” meets some of her teammates when they’re on live one night and Paige forces her to join. They spend hours together, and judging by all of the screen recordings they’re tagged in the morning after, they clearly did a good job at pretending to be together (although Bree’s factual statement about Tess being unable to lie swims in Tess’s head on repeat).

When they’re not playing Fortnite or fucking around on the other games Paige forces her to try out, they’re building LEGO sets together. They were on FaceTime one night building two different sets: Tess with a tuxedo cat and Paige with a red rose, and the jokes were flowing. When Paige finished her rose, she displayed it proudly with a cheeky smile, holding it up to her phone screen as if she was giving it to Tess. While Tess rolled her eyes, she couldn’t curb her growing fondness for the blonde, and they both seemed to know it.

“What do we think about the white?” Tess asks another day, holding the aforementioned dress over her body, displaying it for Paige, who sits patiently on the other end of the phone.

The blonde raises an unimpressed brow. “Who all’s gonna be there?”

Tess levels her with an unimpressed look of her own, lowering the dress slightly. “P, it’s my cousin’s baby shower. Take a wild guess.”

Paige raises her hands defensively. “All I’m saying is the white looks good as hell on you. I might have to fly out to make sure no one brings a plus one who’s on some funny shit.”

Tess flushes, but rolls her eyes with a pleased expression. “The white’s nice, right? But look at this gold one I have, too.” Tess hangs the white dress back in her closet, returning with the gold one in tow – it has a slightly longer skirt but it’s a little more snug at the top. Paige is quiet for far too long. Tess narrows her eyes at her, stepping closer to the phone to see what’s going on only to realize Paige is just shamelessly checking her out. “Eyes up here, Romeo. White or gold?”

Paige clears her throat. “Can’t you just wear a paper bag or sum’?”

“To my cousin’s baby shower?” Tess deadpans.

Paige stares back at her with a serious expression. “Well, it’s either the paper bag or you figure out how to become ugly. Only one of those is possible.”

“You are no help at all. Let me call Sabrina –”

“Gold,” Paige interrupts quickly. “You don’t need Sabrina. She’s not even six foot.”

“And her height makes her unfit to pick out dresses, because…why?”

“She don’t see the vision like I do,” the blonde says simply, smirking in a self-satisfied way. “The gold? Immaculate.”

“Spell immaculate.”

Paige gasps indignantly. “Alright! It’s like you’ont even want my help. What am I even here for?”

Tess grins mischeviously at her, returning the dress back to the rack in her closet. “Clearly just to stare at me. You have no shame, Paige Bueckers.”

She raises her eyebrows suggestively, her expression appreciative. “Well, I mean–”

“Goodnight, Paige!”

Somewhere in between late night FaceTimes and breaking the Internet one Instagram comment at a time, their friendship seems to shift. It all becomes natural. She wakes up, responds to Paige’s timely Good morning! texts, reposts her stories and comments on her posts. The longer that this goes on, the less that Tess cares about whoever they’re supposed to be pretending for. Her brand deals are trusting her again and the trolls in her comments start disappearing. Her PT and therapy appointments are going well and she starts feeling like herself again. She’s sure she could credit that to Paige’s near constant presence in her life, but she knows the blonde well enough by now – Paige would emphasize that it’s all Tess. For a while, Tess was fearful of letting this get out of hand, but she’s coming to realize now that she doesn’t mind how their friendship has evolved.

But Tess has been around for long enough to realize that the ball drops sooner rather than later. Late at night in early June, Tess gasps awake with debilitating pain in her knee. It was unexpected – she hadn’t felt it like this in quite a while. Her exercises were going well and she was usually cautious to not overwork herself, but perhaps she did a little too much that day and it’s coming back to bite her in the ass. She groans in pain as she pushes herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and blindly reaching for the insulated cup full of ice that she keeps on her nightstand for times like this. Tess digs through her blankets until she finds her phone and turns the flashlight on. She pours some of the ice into a ziplock bag she keeps on hand, zipping it shut tightly and pressing it to her knee. It does little to soothe the pain, but it’s better than nothing, and her breathing becomes a little easier.

It’s only after she takes care of her knee that she finally registers the dryness of her mouth, the thirst for something to numb the pain. She falls back onto her pillows in equal parts frustration and grief – she thought she was past this. She’d made so much progress in therapy and figuring out how to fill her time with new hobbies and activities to distract her. She hadn’t felt an actual craving in a few days, but now, it feels like undoing a month’s worth of work. Tess reaches into the cup and shovels a handful of ice into her mouth. As she chews, it soothes the dryness and the cold is enough to shock her brain, but it’s not enough to regulate her. The pain in her knee combined with the urge to do something she’ll regret makes her feel like she’s drowning again. She could easily satiate it – her parents moved their liquor (not out of distrust, but to keep it out of mind), although she knows where the hiding spots are. She grew up with younger cousins. Knowing how to keep it out of reach was just a matter of responsibility. But now, that responsibility feels uncomfortably like temptation, and it takes everything in her to keep herself rooted to the bed.

Tess reaches for her phone before she even fully processes what she’s doing. She types in her passcode, swipes over to her contacts, and hits call. The phone only rings twice before the line clicks through.

“Tess?” Paige’s voice is quiet, but rough with sleep. Part of Tess feels guilty for waking her up, although the other part of her knows that Paige would have been upset if she didn’t call.

“Hey,” Tess says softly, unconsciously relaxing.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” Paige sounds a little more awake now, shifting around on her bed, and Tess exhales. She hates how much better she does feel just from hearing her voice. Her knee still aches but her brain clears. It’s like coming back up for air after diving.

“I’m sorry for waking you–”

“Don’t,” Paige says firmly, interrupting her. “What's wrong, ma?”

Tess smiles, forgetting Paige can’t see her. “I woke up and I was in so much pain,” she admits in a near whisper, listening to the sound of Paige’s breathing. “Felt like I was tearing my ACL all over again. And then the cravings came back. I was doing so well, like I was improving, but… I’m frustrated and exhausted and my knee hurts so bad, and, I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Her confession rings out in the silence of her room. She tries to ignore the way her voice cracks, but her honesty makes the weight on her shoulders feel a little lighter.

“You know you can call me whenever,” Paige says after a while, her voice soft. “I’ll answer.”

“I know.”

“You are improving,” she continues, trying to find the words. “This isn’t a set back, ma, just part of recovery. It’s never gonna be linear. Some nights are gonna be harder than others. But that doesn’t mean you’re going backwards. It just means you gotta fight a little harder.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Tess admits. “I just want to be okay again.”

“You will be,” Paige says confidently, endlessly patient. “Tess Kennedy doesn’t lose to the same opponent twice, right?”

Tess chuckles. “That was kind of a bar.” Paige hums in agreement. “Thank you for picking up.”

Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat, like the idea that she wouldn’t pick up is preposterous. “Always, Tess, you know I got you.” Tess can’t stop the slow smile from spreading across her face. “You want me to stay?”

Tess opens her mouth, hesitating, but reminds herself to be honest. “Can you? Please?”

Paige hums again, her voice sounding sleepy, and Tess relaxes as Paige begins to ramble. “Lauren and Ryan are comin’ up this week. We’re just gonna hang, do a big dinner and shit. I wish they lived closer, but I mean, I’m in Storrs most of the year and they’re getting older so they’ll be goin’ off to college, too. I just really miss them a lot. I think you’d like them. Maybe you can fly up for the holidays and I can introduce you. My parents ask about you. They might like you more than they like me, which is insane…like these past 21 years didn’t mean anything to them.”

“Poor baby,” Tess teases in a soft murmur. She hears Paige snort.

“Are you free, um, fuck – on the holidays?” Tess listens to Paige shuffle around, a smile growing on her lips. “Do you celebrate?”

“Thanksgiving, no; Christmas, yes,” Tess responds. “My parents and I usually just watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and order a pizza.”

“Lemme fly you out for Thanksgiving? Meet my family?”

Tess hardly has to give it a second thought. “Sounds perfect to me,” she says. “You wanna fly out here after Christmas? New Year’s in New York?”

“Whatever you want,” Paige replies. “You’ll have to give me that insider Kennedy knowledge. How do I get your parents to like me?”

Tess laughs, feeling her eyes droop. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust. My mom thinks you’re good for me. And my dad thinks you’re the worst kept secret in the history of Tess Kennedy’s worst kept secrets.”

“Yeah?” Paige huffs out a quiet laugh. “And what does Tess Kennedy think? Am I good for her?”

Tess struggles to stifle her growing smile as she answers coyly. “What do you think?”

She can almost visualize Paige’s grin. “I make you smile. I think ‘m doing somethin’ right.”

And for that, Tess truly has no rebuttal, embracing the warmth that creeps up her cheeks. Paige keeps speaking and Tess tries her best to stay awake to listen, but the timbre of Paige’s voice reverberates throughout her room and lulls her to sleep. It makes her forget about the ache in her knee and the chaos in her mind. Paige’s soft laugh as she recounts her first dunk is the last thing Tess hears before she succumbs to a blessedly peaceful slumber.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 9)

summary: thoughts of jack still linger, but a familiar face (and the person who's helped you get over your breakup) come to visit you and hugh - your personal trainer. meanwhile, hugh continues filming and puts on the wolverine costume for the first time. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal abuse. smut (18+, mdni) - cowgirl, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving, dirty talk, all while hugh is in his wolverine costume, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 4k a/n: i've missed these two's personal trainer, so she's coming back and i think she's gonna be the driving force behind the reader realizing how far she's come! hope y'all enjoy, things are gonna get better... i promise. in the meantime, i've been wanting to write some smut of hugh in his wolverine costume bc i mean... how can you not??? lol. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

A week has passed since your run in with Jack. Hugh tries to act like nothing happened, act like what happened didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t help it. He was still fuming, still wanting so badly to just find Jack and finish what he started. He does notice a small shift in your behavior, but he has to wonder if you’re hiding the fact that you’re still on edge. There are still brief moments where you space out, like your mind has drifted to some other place and he has to gently take you out of it with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet call of your name. 

You snap out of it more quickly than before, but he can still see the panicked expression flickering in your eyes. 

Every night, you thank him and Hugh isn’t sure why. You thank him for being there for you, for being the safe space that you didn’t know you needed, for loving you the way you should be loved. 

And every night, Hugh watches you fall asleep and only when he sees the peaceful look on your sleeping face does he feel relaxed enough to go to sleep too. 

As the weekend approaches, Hugh has an idea to give both your personal trainer a call and invite her over for the week. He knows how important she is to you, how she has helped you overcome not only your breakup with Jack, but has helped you see just how amazing of a person you are. 

You’re in the bathroom when Hugh steps out on the patio of the hotel room to give her a call. She answers almost quickly and Hugh has to look over his shoulder to make sure that you haven’t come out yet. 

“Hugh, hey! How’s filming going?” she says enthusiastically. 

“It’s been going great,” Hugh answers, biting his lower lip. “How are things back home?” 

“Busy like always,” she laughs quietly. “I’ve been thinking about taking a vacation.”

“How about you come here?” 

“That’s not necessarily a vacation if I’m going there to work,” she chuckles. 

“I’ll pay for everything.”

“I mean, that’s only fair.”

Hugh laughs quietly then he lets out a quiet sigh. “Listen, Jack–”

“I know,” she interjects. “We’ve been talking this last week. Doesn’t sound like she’s doing that well.”

“I think she’s hiding the fact that she isn’t doing okay,” Hugh admits. “And I think if you’re here, she’d feel a lot better. You don’t even have to train either of us. Just– I think she needs someone more than me right now.”

“I’m there,” she responds immediately. “Tell me when, Hugh, and I’ll be there.” 

Hugh lets out a breath of relief. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything for you and send you the details.”

After Hugh hangs up the phone, he walks back inside the hotel room and sees you come out of the bathroom in a white robe and a towel in your hands to run through your wet hair. He sees you look up at him, a small smile on your lips as he walks over to you. His hands drop to your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“So…” he begins.

You arch a brow, tossing the dampened towel onto the bed. You stare up at him, hands now moving to rest on his chest. “What?”

“I know what happened last week is still lingering,” Hugh continues and sees your mouth open to protest, but he shakes his head. “It’s lingering for me at least, baby.” 

“Hugh…”

“Just,” he sighs. “Hear me out. I’m flying in our trainer this week. I know that she’s been with you through everything, has helped you with this and I can’t…” Hugh bites his lower lip. “As much as I wish that I can help you, I just know that I can’t.”

“But you have…”

“But it’s not enough, love,” Hugh admits. “I know that. You know that.”

“I’m sorry…” you drift your eyes downwards, staring at your feet.

“Hey,” Hugh bites his lower lip and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look back up at him. He can see the hurt in your eyes, the worry etched in your features. You’re thinking again and Hugh brushes his thumb gently across your jawline as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize for this, for him.”

“I just wish he still didn’t have so much control over me…” 

“I know, baby,” Hugh says softly. “He hurt you for a long time,” he tightens his jaw. “So the way you’re feeling… It’s completely valid.” 

“I love you,” you tell him. “I don’t think I deserve you–”

“Okay, we’re gonna stop saying that, yeah?” Hugh says with a small smile. “I feel like the luckiest man alive that you chose me, that I get to feel your love,” he admits. “So from now on, we’re going to stop saying that… because if anyone doesn’t deserve the other person, it’s me.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but he just leans in and presses his lips firmly against yours. You melt into him, hands moving from his chest to wrap around his neck. “Don’t think that kissing me is going to prevent me from saying otherwise,” you mumble against his lips.

Hugh smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Fine,” he says, pulling away slowly. “How about we say that we do deserve each other?” 

You nod, playing with the hair at his nape. “Yeah, I like that a lot more.” You lean up on your toes and gently peck his lips, feeling him lift you even further until your legs wrap around his waist and he sits on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. 

“I love you, baby,” he says, moving a hand to the knot on your robe. “And I just want you happy.”

You bite your lower lip and look down at where his hand plays with the knot at your robe, feeling his length stir beneath his shorts. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admit. “And it’s because of you.”

Hugh grins and then undoes the knot on your robe, slowly pushing it off your shoulders as he watches the fabric fall from your body. He clears his throat, your entirely exposed frame now in full view for him as his gaze darkens with lust. 

“Think we can be quick about this?” he asks hopefully, feeling you slowly roll your hips against his. Hugh’s eyes gaze down between your legs, seeing your sex slicked with your arousal. 

“I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, baby.” Hugh grunts quietly when he feels your hands tug at his shorts and he lifts himself slightly to lower it past his legs, letting it pool around his ankles. He’s already so hard at the sight of you, his tip already leaking with his precome and when he feels your hand wrap itself around his base, he lets out a loud groan.

“Shawn and Ryan can wait a little longer,” Hugh smirks, eyes fluttering when he feels you slowly lower yourself down onto him. 

—

True to Hugh’s word, your trainer arrives on set the following week. You practically run towards her in excitement (and immense relief) when you see her. Hugh’s at his trailer, leaning against the door when he sees the big smile on your face. It’s been a while since he’s seen your smile meet your eyes, pure happiness and relief written on your expression. 

You pull away from the hug and lead her to Hugh’s trailer, seeing the both of them hug as well before he lets the both of you inside. He’s not yet dressed for today’s shoot, but you can see the blue and yellow suit hanging in the corner. Today had been a day you were looking forward to because not only was your trainer going to be here, but Hugh was finally going to put on the comically-accurate Wolverine suit for the first time in over twenty years. 

“I was thinking we can all grab dinner tonight after shooting,” Hugh suggests, hand reaching out for you. You smile in his direction and take his hand, leaning against him. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan,” your trainer says with a smile. 

“I usually leave earlier than Hugh, so after a few scenes, we can head back to the hotel and catch up,” you tell her.

“Perfect. I’ve already seen Hugh in his element, but to see you in yours? I’m excited.” 

“Oh, I’m nothing special–”

Both Hugh and your trainer look at you with an expression that tells you to stop the negative self-talk. You bite your lower lip and then shake your head, lifting your free hand in the air. 

“Okay, okay. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, after this week, it’s gonna be drilled into you,” your trainer chuckles. “Now come on, show me around set while Hugh gets ready.” 

You nod and then watch her leave the trailer before you turn to look up at Hugh, hand resting on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Hugh smiles and pecks your lips. “I missed your smile,” he admits. 

You let out a quiet sigh and then look down at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Hugh corrects. “I just love seeing you happy, baby.” 

“You’re perfect,” you tell him with a contented sigh. “I’m thinking I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Hugh grins broadly. “Good because you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, you promise?” you tease.

Hugh nods, staring deeply into your eyes. “More than you know, love. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

—

You give a thorough tour of the set, but you can tell from the look on your trainer’s face that she’s waiting for you to bring up Jack, to bring up what exactly happened, and how he even came back into your life. 

You know you’ve come a long way from the first time you met her, but you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed in yourself… that all of the hard work that your trainer helped you with seems to have gone to waste at the first conversation with Jack. 

“He called me after he found out that Hugh and I were together,” you finally admit. “I’m assuming it had to do with Hugh posting a picture of us and then word got out and–” you sigh shakily. “Well, you can figure out the rest.” 

“What an asshole,” she mutters. “I’m sorry you still have to deal with him,” she says softly. 

“I just feel–” you sigh. “I feel like I’m the same woman I was when I was with him. A coward. Weak.” 

“That’s not a reflection of who you are as a person,” she replies. “You were never a coward and you were never weak.” 

“But–”

“Jack was abusive,” she says bluntly. “Verbally abusive… and he took advantage of you. And he’s still trying to do that, but there’s a big difference from the woman you were to the woman you are now.” 

“And what’s that? Because from where I’m standing, I feel like I’m back to square one.” 

She sighs. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” 

You shrug. “I just wish I never got Hugh involved.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” she corrects. “You deserve to be happy and Jack doesn’t like that. He doesn’t have a right to tell you who you are – he never did, do you understand me?” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you look at her. She had become the person to help you out of your negative thoughts and you knew that if not for her, you’d have been stuck in the same mindset that Jack made you to believe about yourself. 

“I really missed you,” you tell her, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.

“Even my workouts?” 

“Ah, maybe not that,” you tease, pulling away from her with a small smile as you wipe your tears away. 

“Well, I’m sure we can squeeze one in this week,” she winks. 

“Thank you,” you say seriously. “For being here.”

“Thank Hugh,” she chuckles. “He just wants you to be happy.”

You smile to yourself. “When you texted me telling me about having someone join in our sessions all those months ago… Did you know that we would hit it off?”

She grins mischievously. “I knew you two would hit it off, but I certainly didn’t expect you both to get together so fast.”

“Oh my god, you set us up.”

She bursts into a fit of laughter. “Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head and begin laughing with her, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like you can finally breathe again after everything that’s happened with Jack. 

—

After a couple of hours, your trainer decides to leave for the day and get some rest at the hotel before dinner tonight. You opt to remain on set, not having had the chance to see Hugh yet. It’s lunch time for the entire cast and crew, so you walk towards his trailer and step inside, removing the camera from around your neck to set on the table. 

When you turn around to see him dressed in his full Wolverine suit, sitting on the couch with a bowl of salad, you widen your eyes and clear your throat at the sight of him. He has a big grin on his face and waves in your direction, but you can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. 

The suit is so fitting – sculpting to his entire body, but your eyes deviate to his arms, seeing his muscles flex from beneath the suit as he takes another forkful of spinach. 

“You’re–” you bite your lower lip. “You’re wearing the suit.”

“I am,” he chuckles and sets the bowl down onto the table nearby before he stands up. 

Your eyes widen even further at the sight of him standing in his suit in front of you. You know you’re obviously ogling him, eyes lingering in certain areas and Hugh’s enjoying it. He likes the way you look at him, especially right now. You look like a woman who knows what she wants and he can see the gaze in your eyes darkening. 

“You look–” you stutter. “You look good. Like really fucking good.” 

“Is this everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he teases, his large hand coming to rest on your waist. “You know, with Wolverine being your favorite and all.” 

The contrast of him wearing this suit and his accent is doing things to you that you never thought it would. You can feel the wetness build between your legs, the throbbing and yearning to clamp around him. You can’t even respond, your eyes moving continuously up and down his frame. He looks so big, so strong, and–

“Hello?” Hugh interrupts your thoughts, chuckling quietly. “Do you like it?” 

“Like it?” you answer, hands moving to rest on his chest as you gently shove him back down on the couch. “I fucking love it.” 

Without hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of him as your hands move up his thighs and towards the waistband of his pants. You bite your lower lip, tilting your head as you try to figure out how to remove his pants and letting out a quiet huff of impatience when you can’t seem to find the zipper or button or anything to pull it down and reveal his hardening length. 

Even beneath the fabric of his suit, you can see the length of him, stirring and hardening as you run your palm over him. 

Hugh groans, head tilting to the side as he reaches down to cup your cheek. “Baby, I don’t–”

“Help me figure out how to take these pants off.”

“Baby,” he grunts, feeling your lips press against his manhood from over the fabric of his suit. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, his length straining beneath the fabric and he groans when he feels your lips find his covered tip. 

“Hugh,” you whimper impatiently. “I need you.”

Hugh nods and then stands up in front of you, looking down at you as you remain on your knees. He expertly undoes his pants, knowing that it’s going to be just as difficult to put back on, but at the sight of you so needy and ready for him, he knows it’ll be worth it. 

Hugh then drops his pants to pool around his ankles and he’s about to sit back down when he feels your hands wrap around his base and your mouth immediately wrap itself around his tip. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as he tangles one hand in your hair and remains standing before you. 

You feel a sudden sense of gratitude wash over you, wanting to show Hugh just how grateful you are of him. How patient and thoughtful he’s been these last few weeks. You lean in further, relaxing your throat as you feel the tip of his manhood kiss the back of your throat. The hair at his base tickles your nose and you feel tears sting your eyes as you look up at him, his face contorted into pleasure. You pull back enough, his length glistening with your saliva.

“Fuck,” he growls lowly, his grip in your hair tightening even further as you continue to bob your head rapidly. It’s almost obscene the way you’re sucking him off, like you’re a starved animal and this is your first meal. Hugh can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each of your strokes, with each inch sliding further and further into your mouth that he has to pull back from your lips with a quiet pop!. 

Your lips are red and slightly swollen, saliva dripping just a bit at the corner of your lips. You’re staring up at him with a lustful look on your face and he’s about to say something, about to tell you that he’s getting close, but you interrupt him with a shove against his chest to make him sit back down on the couch. 

He clears his throat, watching you drop your pants and underwear to the floor. He reaches down to stroke himself, eyes taking in your exposed lower half. Hugh groans in anticipation when he watches you straddle his hips and align yourself to his tip. 

You waste no time (like you usually do) in sitting firmly on his erected length. You don’t take your time, you don’t slowly lower yourself. Instead, you lower yourself until he fills you to the hilt and Hugh tosses his head back at the sensation of your warm and wet walls clamping down on his already throbbing length. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Hugh groans, hands darting out to your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. 

“Call me bub,” you demand, hands moving to rest on his shoulders as you bounce along his length. “Please, Hugh…”

Hugh grunts, feeling every inch of your walls slide along him. He knows what you want, so he switches the flip inside of him and stares at you with a dark look on his face. He lets out a low growl – the way Logan would – and leans in to rest his forehead against yours, having long forgotten his normal Australian accent to replace with Logan’s.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, bub,” he groans. “Taking me so well.” 

Your eyes widen and your walls clench at the role that Hugh is now playing. When he sees the look on your face, he smirks and digs his fingertips even further into you, knowing that it’s going to leave bruises later. “Oh god…” you moan, biting your lower lip from trying to let everyone else on the lot hear what’s going on.

“Yeah?” he growls, moving a hand to your clit and beginning to rub it in circles. “Such a good girl. Look at you,” Hugh groans, feeling himself get closer and closer. “Oh bub,” he continues. “You’re close, ain’t ya? Can feel you tremble…”

“Hugh!” you exclaim, rolling your hips forward and backwards as your walls tighten even further around him. You reach your high far too quickly and feel him continue to rub circles against your clit, your body shaking as you try to reach down for his wrist to stop his movements. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hugh grins. He knows that he’s stronger than you, but he loves seeing you try. Loves to see your body become so overly sensitive that you begin to squirm away from him, unsure if you can reach another orgasm. 

“Hugh… Baby, I can’t–”

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning in to gently bite at your jawline as he thrusts his hips up roughly and rapidly. His balls slap against your backside, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls of his trailer as he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build and build–

“Fuck!” he groans, moving both hands now to your hips as he paints your walls with his come. Hugh’s eyes fall shut tightly, slowly guiding you along his length as he shudders at your tight walls milking every last drop. 

Slowly, Hugh lifts you off his lap and you quickly scramble to sit next to him, not wanting any of his come to get on the suit. You lean back against the couch, legs still spread open as Hugh looks down at you and sees his release slowly trickle out of you. 

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he says, his voice back to normal as he watches groans at the sight of his come now trickling between your legs. 

“That was hot,” you smile, breathing heavily. 

“You’re hot,” he grins, reaching for a tissue to first clean you up and then to clean himself. Once he’s softened enough, Hugh pulls up his pants and then grabs your panties and jeans to gently hand it to you. “I’m going to have to film for the rest of the day after that?”

You bite your lower lip and slide on your panties. You sit on your knees and lean in to gently peck his lips. “And then we also have dinner tonight.”

He groans and runs his hand along your bare thigh. “How am I going to pay attention after you attacked me like that?” 

You gasp and gently slap his chest, feeling him take your hand and kiss your knuckles. “I did not attack you!” 

“Oh, the minute you saw me in this suit, you were already undressing me with your eyes.”

“Not my fault you look so hot in it.”

“Should I take it back with me to the hotel?” he grins, eyes wiggling suggestively. 

“If you bring it back to the hotel with you, we’re never leaving.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” you giggle. “You still have a movie to shoot.”

Hugh sighs dramatically. “I suppose you have a point.” 

You let out a laugh and Hugh smiles in your direction. “I’ve missed your laugh too,” he says quietly. 

You look up at him and cup his cheek, eyes staring into his own. “I’m not gonna let that man control me anymore,” you admit. “It’s going to be tough, but I–”

“You’re stronger than you know, baby,” Hugh finishes for you. “And I’ll be right there to help you through it. As long as you’ll have me.” 

“Wear the suit and then maybe I’ll consider,” you tease. 

Hugh chuckles and gently pushes you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Hugh.”

“Do you think you have one more in you?” he asks, eyes dark with lust once more as he moves a hand between your legs. 

“I don’t–” you gasp when you feel him move your panties to the side and slide a finger past your depths. He can feel his spend inside of you and it makes him growl. 

“Lunch is almost over, Hugh…” you whimper.

“I know. Let me have my dessert, baby.” Hugh grins and then lowers his head between your legs.

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[fallingdownhell]

Love your workkk!! ❤️❤️can i get an hc on fem reader taking off their coat revealing toned muscles and abs right before sparring and how childe alhaitham kazuha diluc kaveh will react? Mostly sfw but slight nsfw is okay

Thank you<3 And sure, hope this turned out like you imagined it. Characters Included: Childe; Alhaitham; Kazuha Content: female reader; pre relationship; they are basically simping over you(r form) Word count: 1,1k words

Hope you guys have fun with this one<3

Childe

as our resident fighting maniac, it's no wonder that Childe wants to test and experience the capabilities of any and all agents that get assigned under his command

working under a Harbinger is a great honor, and it helps that Tartaglia seems far more approachable and reasonable than all the others

though you have been warned about his preference for fighting, you still didn't expect him to just straight up demand a sparring fight with you on your first day of duty

you tried giving every excuse in the book, but he kept insisting and in the end, you neither had the energy nor the nerves to deny him any longer

Childe was beaming with excitement on the way to the training grounds, immediately ridding himself of his weapons and getting in the ring, waiting for you to join him

"Come on, it's just a little spar. Nothing too serious~" he continues to coax you with a smirk

you sigh, as you go to take of your coat and other clothing that would just hinder you during the fight, placing your choice of weapon right next to them

when you look up again, you notice Childe staring at you

more specifically, at the muscles that protrude from your upper arms

they weren't really noticable under your clothes before, but it was clear evidence that you did not slack on your training. And now it seemed like Childe was hypnotized by them

in fact, his eyes lit up as he took in your well trained form, no longer hidden under your choice of clothes

the smirk returns to his face and he looks you in the eyes, excited for the, without a doubt, very enjoyable spar that's about to take place

Alhaitham

Alhaitham and you have been well acquainted for a few years now

it's like a sort of friendship that has formed between you two due to circumstances aligning, and after all those years, the friendship has still survived

it's not like you guys were together every single day, it's more like the occaisonal hangout once every (other) week, catching up with each other again, before going back to your own lives again. Then rinse and repeat

you are both aware of each others occupation and hobbies. Like, you knew that Alhaitham was currently under a lot of stress due to temporarily being promoted to Acting Grande Sage, and he likes to read during his free time

as for him, he was aware of your hobby with self defense fighting styles, and that you were teaching some classes from time to time

however, it seems that it never occured to him that thanks to your hobby, you would logically also acquire a figure that would prove that visually

so, when for one of your meet ups, you asked him to meet you at your current training spot, he thought nothing too much of it, making his way there after he was done with all his other responsibilities

when he arrived, you were still invested in your training, and since he didn't want to interrupt you, he planned on sitting down and reading his book while waiting for you

that was his plan... until he snatched a glance at you

seeing you in your work out clothes, toned abs clearly visible now in the daylight, something in him froze up, not letting him take his eyes away from you anymore

he was mesmerized by your form, how your body looked and how well trained and fit you seemed to be. In this moment, he felt like a fool for never realizing what such intense training would do to ones body

and he had to admit... he definitely liked what he saw

after your training was done, he would act respectful and not comment about it, stating that he didn't mind waiting for you. But that doesn't mean that he's not still thinking about what he's seen today..

Kazuha

you haven't really known Kazuha for too long, but you've grown to really like the wandering samurai a lot

his calm, collected way of speaking, along with his kind personality was a breath of fresh air to you, one that you really desperately needed

you enjoyed the time you spend with him, sitting around or walking through Liyue Harbor, listening to the storys he tells you about his travels. You always listen very closely to everything, soaking his storys up

on the other hand, Kazuha really enjoys sharing his experiences with you. He adores the excited glint in your eyes and how you focus on each word that leaves his lips

the more you two got to know each other, the more time you spent together. You began wandering around Liyue, outside the city, exploring the nature and wildlife together

often times, Kazuha would pick you up early in the morning, spending the day hiking up mountains with you, finding a beautiful spot where you can rest and just look up to the sky together

and although this is all nice and everything, that doesn't mean it can't get dangerous along the way

this time, on your way back down from a mountain, you guys got attacked by a swarm of Hilichurls. They got you cornered and surrounded, but Kazuha and you were quick to pull your weapons and fight yourself a way out

though Kazuha's fighting style was much more elegant than yours in your personal opinion, that doesn't neglect the fact that you were very well adapted with your own weapon of choice

however, in the midst of the battle, one of the monsters got a grip of you. You had to sacrifice your favourite coat to it, in order to not get hit by it, but you took it down swiftly afterwards. However, the coat was ruinied

when everything was over and Kazuha went to check up on you, he noticed that your coat was gone, and admittedly, he couldn't help the way his eyes were wandering over your body

he had never seen you without a coat on, seeing as you were always meeting up outside and it was late fall already. And since you were mostly wearing clothes that were on the baggier side, he never would have thought that you had such a well trained body shape

his eyes kept wandering, completely oblivious to the fact that he was staring at you

when you cleared your throat, he snapped out of his trance, focusing back on you, though a blush from the embarrassement of getting caught was evident on his face

"I'm sorry for staring. I just wasn't expecting you to look this stunning under the layers you usually wear."

yeah.. he really has his way with words.

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 1: The Mission

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,585

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Just a reposting of my story on Wattpad to help generate attention for it! Please go give it some love if you’re liking it so far. My user name is Emily7love or just look up the title.

Master List | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 1

"Bravo 7-1, this is Bravo 0-7, give me a sit rep on your position, over."

Soap is currently kneeling in some brush, staring at the small military camp in front of him when the radio call comes through. Despite the fact that he'd most likely need to be adjusting the volume up soon on his ear piece, he still turns it down a little for now.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass." He all but growls back to Ghost. His hand tenses on his rifle at even saying those numbers. Bravo 7-4.

You were Bravo 7-4. Also known as (y/n) "States" (l/n). The all too grumpy Sergeant by the callsign Bravo 7-1 was John "Soap" MacTavish. Also known as the biggest pain in your ass since you joined up with Captain Price's Task Force about six months ago.

Now anyone who knew Soap would be shocked to hear you say that you thought he was literally the worst and most insufferable human being to ever stain the Earth. To everyone else, Soap was a funny, charismatic, rather easy-going, and quite friendly guy. Everyone loved Soap. He was the golden boy of the Task Force, of the entire base. People were just naturally drawn to him, and his warm personality.

You can't say you blame people for being shocked when they learn just how much you can't stand him. Cause all those things about Soap were true. He was funny, and friendly, and relaxed, and just a great guy to be around. He was all those things when he wasn't around you. The second you stepped into the picture, his amused grin turned into a stiff scowl. His sparkling eyes turned hard. His relaxed posture turned rigid.

Yeah, John "Soap" MacTavish hated you. And you hated him.

Why did he hate you? You weren't entirely sure. It just seemed like it has always been that way since day one.

You transferred into the Task Force at the request of Captain Price himself. Originally, you had been stationed at a military base in the United States, where you were from. Then one day your commanding officer called you into his office and told you that you'd been given a new assignment. You would be working with a British Task Force across the pond for the next year. A group of four SAS men. If things worked out, then you'd be staying there indefinitely.

You'd been thrilled at the news. You didn't join the military only for the benefits and the opportunity to serve, but for the opportunity to travel and to potentially live somewhere else in the world. Getting to be that while also being SAS was the dream. You worked so hard to get to where you were today. Sleepless nights of studying, hard days of working out and trying to improve and hone your skills, and now it was finally happening. You were being sent off to a new base and a new team. And not just any team, an elite task force. You'd finally been selected.

You met the whole team day one of your arrival. The first person you met was Captain John Price. He was a friendly but very stern man. The no nonsense type of guy. He gave you a tour of the base, and showed you to the female barracks. Once you were semi-settled in (all your belongings piled into your room) you went to meet the other members of your new Task Force.

Price introduced you to each teammate. They'd all been in his office by the time you and Price showed up. Two had been seated, and one was standing despite there being enough chairs. That had been Soap.

"Alright you lot, here she is. This is (y/n) (l/n). Straight from across the pond." Price introduced you. "(Y/n), these are boys of the 141. This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick."

"You can also call me Gaz." Kyle fills in, giving you a nod and a handshake. "It's nice to have someone from the States joining us." He was the one responsible for your callsign being States.

"This is your Lieutenant. Simon Riley. He goes strictly by Ghost." Price continues. Ghost doesn't make a move to shake your hand. He just stayed quiet. Didn't even give you a nod of any kind. Quite intimidating coming from a guy wearing a skull over his face. "And lastly, this is-"

"Soap." The man barks out before Price can say anything. You remember hearing Price sigh before finishing his sentence. "Sergeant John MacTavish."

"You can call me Soap though. Nothing else." His voice was harsh, and carried a tone of warning. If you to call him by anything else other than his callsign, there were going to be harsh consequences.

His arms were folded across his chest, and he'd glared at you during the whole introduction. It made you so nervous, the reactions you got from both Soap and Ghost. Price assured you later though that they would come around. They just needed to warm up to you. He'd been 50% correct.

At the time, Ghost had been the most terrifying of three, and the one you worried you wouldn't be able to connect with (boy had you been foolish). At the time though, Soap had at least said something to you. Ghost never said a word or even acknowledged you. And when Ghost did talk to you, it was always in a gruff voice like you were annoying him. But over time, you came to realize that was just who Ghost was. It wasn't anything personal. He was like that with literally everyone. It was rare to catch him laughing or to hear his gruff voice become lighter.

Soap, on the other hand, also spoke to you the way Ghost did, but he only used that tone with you. He was so cheery and light when speaking with the guys. Even with strangers, his voice may have been slightly more gruff, but never as harsh as when he spoke to you.

His personality was vastly different around the others as well. Whereas he could joke, laugh, and relax around them, he was the opposite around you. You thought for a moment that maybe he was sexiest and just didn't like women, though every woman he spoke to around base, he was the kindest and most respectful guy.

Now six months later, not much had changed. Soap still spoke to you in a gruff voice. He still scowled when you entered a room. He still glared at you any time he needed to look at you. He had gotten more "comfortable" around you. But really that just meat he was far more comfortable with insulting you directly. From the way you shoot to the way you eat, he could find anything to gripe about. And eventually, you decided that if he was going to be difficult, then you'd return the favor.

The first time you insulted him back, he looked shocked, then just flat out angry. Your encounters went from quiet insults being thrown back and forth and dirty looks to all out yelling at each other. Never physical fights, but Soap had punched a hole in the wall during one particularly bad argument.

The others couldn't stand you fighting. Gaz would do everything in his power to keep you separated and distracted from each other so you wouldn't start. Ghost tried to never be involved, but he would sometimes break up the fights by using his scary lieutenant voice and sending you both to different parts of the base to cool off. Price... he got the most upset. He was normally so calm under pressure but hearing you and Soap bicker pushed him to the limit. He'd yell at you both until he turned red and then normally punish you by making you do extra cleaning, harder workouts, or something else just as labor intensive.

You lost count of how many times you'd been in his office with Soap, getting reprimanded on your behavior. One of the worst had been when Soap actively tried to get you kicked off the team while you were sitting right there.

"She is a right pain in the arse, Price! I didn't even start it this time!" He claims, doing everything he could not to look at you.

"Oh blow it out your ass, Soap. You were giving me a look."

"Then don't fucking look at me." Soap growls through his teeth.

Price slams his fist onto the table, making you both jump a little and halt your bickering for a moment. "Can you two shut the hell up? It's just constant with you. I have had a headache for five fucking days cause of you idiots. What is it going to take for you two to get along?"

Soap is quick with his answer. "All this could be solved if you just deported her little ass back to the US. Seriously Price, she's caused nothing but trouble since she got here."

"I am right here, Soap." You huff out a laugh, not too shocked he'd say something like that though.

"I wish you weren't." He throws back, making Price intervene again.

"Enough! She's not going anywhere, Soap. Whether you like it or not, she brings in a skill set we are missing in this team."

"Like hell she doesn't! We can find someone else." He argues, earning a glare from Price.

"She is staying. I signed a contract that she stays for a year. If we break that, we lose our funding, our reputation, and a whole lot more." Price says, making Soap cross his arms and sit back in his chair.

"So after however many months she has left, we can get rid of her?"

"You'll be lucky if I keep you once your contract expires!" He shouts at Soap, which shuts the Scot up. Sighing, Price continues. "I will reassess at the end of year once States' contract has expired." He says more calmly, which makes your heart sink and Soap smirk.

You were dismissed then, but Price had you stay back. Probably to keep you and Soap from walking with each other, but he also has a few words for you. He reassured you that you were doing great. That you truly did bring a lot to their team and that he was happy to have you there.

"Are you going to send me back at the end of the year?" You'd asked him before you left, looking over your shoulder by the door while he stayed seated at his desk.

"Don't worry about that now, States. But know, I like having you here, and remember, it takes both of to sign the renewal contract."

That gave you hope. Price most likely would want to keep you, but he was also going to leave it up to you to decide whether or not you wanted to stay. At the same time, if things continued the way they were, it wasn't going to be good for team morale. If Price had to pick between you and Soap, you were sure he'd pick Soap. He'd been with the team longer and knew them far better than you did. This was your dream though. Being SAS. It could take years before you got another team. You liked Price, Ghost and Gaz. Could you live with Soap?

That meeting was only three weeks ago. You'd been with the Task Force for almost six months. Halfway through.

Your current mission landed you in Naryn, Kyrgyzsta. You were hunting down a military leader, General Azamat, who was accused of doing an illegal arms deal with Russia. Photos and weeks of gathering intel suggested he was guilty and currently at this military base in Naryn.

This was purely a stealth mission first. You and Soap were tasked with infiltrating the small military base while Ghost provided overwatch. There were three security stations. One on the East, what Soap was in position for, the South, the one you were headed towards now, and the West, where you and Soap would meet to take out the last one.

The East and South stations were backup generators and needed to be taken out first before the main one to the South was. That way you kept the element of surprise and didn't need to worry about the backups going online. After that, your troops would push in and secure the base, capture the military leader, and you could all go home.

Soap had given the update on his position, saying he was where he needed to be, about two minutes ago. Two fucking minutes ago. And he was already griping that you weren't to your position yet. His words rang in your ear through your comm earpiece.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass."

"Calm down, I'm almost fucking there. Don't be so impatient." You growl back. "Seriously Ghost, how do you even deal with him?"

"Haad yer wheesht." Soap growls at you, some Scottish slang you don't understand. No doubt he was telling you to shut the fuck up or something along those lines.

"Either speaking fucking English or don't speak, MacTavish." You bark, voice getting a little too loud for a stealth mission. Even if you weren't too close to the camp yet, there could be patrols you needed to be mindful of.

"How about you fucking learn about other's cultures and then we wouldn't have this problem. And don't call me MacTavish."

"I do know about other's cultures! I just don't care to know about the one that you came from." You throw back before Ghost gets involved.

"Shut it. Now. Not another word. Fuck's sake." You could practically see Ghost shaking his head. "States, how long till you're in position?" Ghost asks, directing attention back to the mission.

"Give me two minutes."

"Bloody fucking Jesus." You hear Soap mummer through the comms.

You take a deep breath to try and focus your energy back on your current tasks. Soap was not going to get in your head and mess this up for you. For anyone else, he would have stayed quiet. In fact, it probably wouldn't have even bothered him.

"Hold up, 7-4." You hear Ghost say to you after about 30 seconds of creeping your way to your position. "You've got a small patrol further up from your position. Just over the hill. Two men, I don't see anyone else. When you're in range, get a good shot of one, and I'll dump the other for you."

"On it. Thanks Ghost." You whisper back, readying your rifle and trying to be as silent as you can while you approach the men.

"You telling me it's gonna be even longer now." Soap complains, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm sorry your side didn't have rough terrain or anyone to fight off, Soap." You tell him sarcastically. "Some of us didn't get the easy baby route to take."

"I'll have you know I took down two fucking patrols all by myself while I made my way over here. And I didn't have Ghost's help to do it either."

"Fuck you." You growl at him.

"What did I bloody fucking say?" Ghost growls, his lieutenant voice coming out. You curse yourself as you let it happen again. Just ignore the Scot and focus on what's ahead.

"In position, Ghost. I see them. Clear sight on both, your call."

Ghost does the quick calculations in his head as he prepares his shot, trying to determine which of the two men he had a better chance of taking out. "The one with the flashlight is mine. Dump is mate. In three, two..."

You both took the shot, Ghost pulling his trigger just a millisecond before you to account for the distance. He landed a clean headshot while your first bullet landed more in the shoulder of your guy. You took a quick second shot, which finished the job with another headshot.

"He's down. Clean shots. Though try for the head first next time." Ghost quips. There was no malice in his words. Just Ghost joking around to ease tension. Soap clearly needed to take lessons from Ghost on how to tell a joke without being a total ass about it.

"Noted. Thanks for the advice, 0-7." You banter back, earning a scowl and an eye roll from Soap.

"Less talking, more getting to where you're supposed to be." Soap cuts in, ending the fun you'd been having with Ghost.

"Don't get your skirt in a knot. I'm in position." You huff, pulling out your binoculars and scouting the area. Despite this base housing a military leader, and having two back up generators, they really didn't have much security. No walls, no floodlights. Just a few patrols outside. They weren't expecting trouble.

"It's a bloody kilt. Not a skirt." Soap seethes, his jaw clenched. At this rate, he wasn't going to be able to finish this mission. Everything about you was just pure annoyance to him.

"Yeah whatever you want to tell yourse-"

"Are you two going to be able to finish this mission or am I going to have to pull you both from it?" Ghost barks over the comms, clearly fed up now.

You feel your face flush hot in embarrassment. Ghost has never threatened to remove you from a mission before. You've always been good and reliable. You can't fail and have it on your record that you were pulled from a mission due to not being able to get along with others. That was a death sentence for your career with the SAS.

"No, sir. Sorry, 0-7." You apologize, not hearing anything from Soap's end. He was probably pouting and internally cursing you for getting him in trouble, even though this was all his fault. "Going to head out for the South station. Bravo 7-4 going dark." You turn your radio from the public channel between you three to a private one used only for emergencies. At least now you wouldn't be able to hear Soap for a little bit.

Soap hears your radio beep once, signaling to him you'd disconnected for a moment while you advance towards your target goal. Once you had, he huffs and takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and collect himself.

"I can't fucking stand her, Ghost." He complains to his friend. "Why the hell did Price ever think it was a good idea to put us together on a mission?" He looked out into the field, making out the little shadow of you making your way slowly to the base.

"She's part of the team, Soap. Price has his reasons. Just focus on the mission and make it work." Ghost replies, not offering too much help aside from stating the obvious and putting Soap's mind back in the field. "Better get going. Your path is clear right now."

Soap sighs heavily and stretches out his neck a bit by tilting his ears toward each shoulder. One side pops a little, only relieving a little tension. "Alright. Bravo 7-1 going dark." He clicks his radio to the private channel and begins to make his way to the East backup generator's building.

By the time Soap reaches his building, you are already working your way inside the South building thanks to the small head start you got. You stick to the shadows as much as you can, thoughts wandering to Soap from time to time. Wondering if he's cleared his building already or if he ran into trouble. Then again, if it was really bad, he could have contacted you or Ghost and there would have been alarms going off. And as much as you hated him, you had to admit he was really good at this kind of stuff. Sweeping through a place and clearing it out. Quick and clean. Of course he'd never ever hear you utter any praises directed at him.

Your building wasn't too heavily guarded. You assumed most of their men were either asleep in the barracks, standing guard of where the military leader was staying, or off patrolling areas they deemed more important than the backup generators. The main building to the West would have most of their patrols since it was the more important building. That was the reason you and Soap needed to work on clearing it together.

You managed to clear your building fairly quickly with only one close call. One guard had seen you shoot someone else, but you managed to take them out before they could radio for backup, and no one seemed to have heard him yell. Once cleared, you plugged in the flash drive and uploaded the virus it contained to make the generator go offline.

You bring a hand to your radio and speak into it. "This is Bravo 7-4, generator down, South building secure. I repeat, generator down. Heading to the West building to the rendezvous now." You begin to head out the way you came in as Ghost speaks to you over the comms.

"This is Bravo 0-7. Confirm. You're all clear." Ghost responds.

"You got a sit rep on our precious Bravo 7-1?" You ask, forgetting to switch over from the private channel. You duck behind some ammo boxes and sneak along them, not expecting to get an answer from Soap. You expected him to be busy still and not on the public channel that you thought you were on. Before Ghost can answer, 7-1 graces you with a response.

"States, shut your fucking mouth and switch your radio over to public. How the hell did you get selected when you can't even use a damn radio." He snarls, making you pause. Soap's words always kinda stung a bit, but some more than others.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not allowed to have a sit rep on you?" You ask, ignoring your slip up of being in the wrong channel.

"No." He answers flatly, making you sigh and roll your eyes. So much for working as a team. "And switch-"

You switched over while he was mid sentence, not wanting to hear his grating voice anymore. You were getting a little worn down at this point. It wasn't like you enjoyed arguing with Soap as much as you did. It was exhausting. Being out in the field where you were already stressed was making it a lot worse.

"He's almost done." Ghost answers you, keeping you updated since Soap clearly wasn't going to. "Just head to the rendezvous, States."

You grumble softly but do as you are told. You mutter a "copy" into your radio before slowly and carefully making your way to the rendezvous. You hear a soft beep shortly after, signaling Soap had reconnected to the public channel. You try to avoid using your radio after that, even skipping check-ins since it seemed that Soap was going to make any use of your radio an unpleasant experience. Though eventually you do need to give an update that you were at the rendezvous, that way Soap wouldn't shoot you.

You move to the side of a building and crouch down. "Bravo 7-4 approaching rendezvous." You sigh to yourself before adding, "Bravo 7-1, please let me know when you are on your way."

"I'm already here. Look to your bloody right 7-4." You look almost directly to your right, which is met with an annoyed sigh. "Not that far. Back to your.. straight.. just- Fucks sake, by the crates!"

"You're not giving me good directions!" You silently yell back, still looking for him.

"By the crates! The only crates in the area! I'm practically in the open."

You see him then. His stupidly handsome face turned into a scowl and his piercing blue eyes glaring at you. He was not in the open, only his head poking up from the crates. You sent the same look right back to him and make your way over, looking around and making sure the way was clear so you wouldn't compromise your position. He was kind enough to at least raise his gun and cover you as you made your way over. Once behind the crates, back pressed to them, he relaxes his position and ducks behind them with you.

"States, look at me," Soap says, his voice deep and gravely. The only tone he ever seemed to use with you. "I want this done clean and easy. No fuck ups. You're going to follow my lead and stay out of my way. And I don't want to hear a single word from you unless it's mission related. You got that?" He lectures you.

You are so, so tempted to roll your eyes at him. He was talking to you like you were a marine fresh off selection. Not a five year veteran who was selected for an elite special forces team. He didn't even outrank you by that much. Not enough to make a real difference. The only thing he had up on you was experience and maybe two years in age.

You're silent for a long moment, glaring at him until he repeats himself a little.

"Do you understand?" He annunciates each word, and you swallow down the choice of words you had for him. This wasn't the time or place for that. You were in the middle of a mission that could go belly up and turn dangerous. You didn't need to be fighting the sergeant on this.

"You got it." You say tightly, mustering up all the strength you possessed not to say more than that to him.

Soap seemed surprised you agreed so easily, but he eyes you suspiciously for a moment before nodding. "Good." He nods before reaching for his radio. "Bravo 0-7, this is 7-1. Going in. Rest of the troops be ready in five minutes and wait for the signal."

"Copy, 7-1." Ghost confirms. "Be warned, I see multiple troops in the vicinity of the West security building. Some men have different uniforms. They look to be General Azamat's men. He could be in there."

You furrow your brows at that. You were expecting a lot of troops in that area, but the military leader you were after wasn't supposed to be in there. There was a bunker in the middle of the camp that he was supposed to be in. It wasn't going to be a significant change the mission though. It just meant your job had become a lot harder. More men to clear out without raising alarm.

"This is Bravo 7-4, 0-7 what's the best way in?" You ask, refusing to look at Soap. You saw his head turn to look at you from the corner of your eye.

"If you wanna come home looking like Swiss cheese I'd go with the front door. Around the back might be your best shot, but I can't get a clear view from my area." Ghost informs you.

"Can you reposition and-"

"No." Soap immediately cuts you off, making you glance to him. "We don't have time for a reposition. We need to move before they realize their backup generators have been breached."

"You just don't like it cause it was my idea." You accuse, watching as Soap visibly becomes agitated.

"I don't like it cause it's a bloody stupid idea!" Soap says through clenched teeth. He was getting right in your face. You were about to tell him off until Ghost's voice filled your left ear.

"Soap's right. There's no time. Head to the back and make due with that entry point. We'll go loud if we need to."

Soap wore a smug look as Ghost sided with him. You despised it. "See? Told you it was a stupid idea." He reiterates, still way too close for comfort.

Your anger flared, and you shoved him back with a forearm to his chest. He reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and flinging it away as if it had burned him. The movement was so quick, it surprised you a bit, and all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes.

"Touch me again, and you're going to regret ever signing up for the military," he growled, his finger jabbing the air between you before standing up and storming off without attracting too much attention.

You're left stunned for a moment, though you're not sure how you thought he was going to react to you pushing him. Within a matter of seconds, you gather yourself, reminding yourself that you were still in enemy territory and needed to focus. With a reluctant sigh, you followed after him.

You managed to make your way to the back of the West Building with Soap without too many complications. The most you needed to really do was duck behind some parked trucks as a military jeep rolled by. It exited the compound, likely heading out to meet a patrol for a shift change.

You and Soap didn't say a single word to each other the whole way. For a stealth mission, that was preferable. However, you could feel the tension between you and Soap. Disdain was radiating off him, and you didn't want to get too close to him in fear he was going to blow up at any second.

There's a line up of vehicles that serve as your cover for the time being as you sneak along one side of them. Suddenly, you nearly collide with Soap when he abruptly raises his hand, signaling you to stop. There's a group of four men all standing in a small circle, talking and smoking together. They're isolated from other groups but taking out a group of four could be very difficult to do.

Soap takes a few steps back, waving for you to back up as well. "We can't take that group out by ourselves, we're going to have to go around." He tells you in a hushed voice as you attempt to peak around him to get a good view of the targets blocking your path.

"It's only four. We can both take out two." You suggest, but, just like all your other ideas, Soap is fast to shut that one down too.

"Not a chance. You suck at hitting multiple headshots." He accuses.

That makes your blood begin to boil. You were not the God awful shot he made you out to be. In fact, back on your base in the US, you were considered to be one of the better shooters.

"I don't suck at making headshots." You glare, making him huff at you.

"Oh really? You missed the one earlier. Ghost managed to hit it from hundreds of meters away, and you bloody miss from a few feet. Your aim is absolute dog shite, States. I'm not going to have you mess up this entire mission cause you think you're better than you are."

His voice was harsh, as always, and his glare was biting. You felt your eyes burn as tears formed, but you refused to let Soap see you cry. He'd only roll his eyes and call you a baby. Crying would only give him more reasons to think you didn't belong here, that you weren't as good as the rest of them.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him in that moment, but you couldn't. The words got caught in your throat, and you feared that if you opened your mouth, a sob would escape. All you could do was look away and clench your jaw, masking your hurt feelings as anger instead.

Soap seems to take your silence as you submitting. "Come on. We'll go around that way."

He was motioning to a camp-like area that seemed mostly deserted, though there were probably men sleeping in the multiple tents that were set up. Along with the tents, there was some campfires and some small boxes of what looked to be filled with MREs.

As Soap quickly moved to the new area to bypass the group of men, you glanced back at them. You knew you could land those headshots. If Ghost had been with you, you would have taken them down already. You were tired of Soap thinking you were inferior and wanted to prove him wrong so badly. You knew you could land those headshots...

Raising your rifle slowly, you lined up the shot for the first target and mentally mapped out the sequence. One on the right, then left, then back right, and then back left. A simple zig-zag pattern. Easy enough.

Right as you're about to pull the trigger, you hear Soap's voice crackle through the comms. His voice was deep and full of warning and venom. 

"Don't you fucking dare, States."

But you dared. You wanted more than anything to prove him wrong. You slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.