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purplecoffee13 · 1 month ago

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Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something. But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault.

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more.

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 1 year ago

Text

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) - A Maze Runner Story

As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 12,051 Warnings: death, bloody wounds, fighting, mental and physical torture, guns, suicidal thoughts and actions Spoilers: no spoilers because the books and films came out ages ago

After helping Newt recover from his ankle injury, Y/N and Newt formed an unbreakable bond that always had them looking out for each other. When they escaped the Maze, then navigated the Scorch, they always had each other’s back. It isn’t until Y/N is captured alongside Minho by WCKD and Newt contracts the Flare that he realises how he truly feels about Y/N.

Problem is, will he rescue her in time to tell her?

Note: I'm back in my dystopian future era thanks to the new Hunger Games film so of course I had to write for my original YA crush. This piece is based on the movie series mainly. Don't get mad at me, I love the books more, but I can appreciate the storylines that came out of the path they took with the films. And if there is one thing the TMR fandom can agree on, it is that the film cast was the best cast ever for the series. So enjoy - not sorry that it's horrendously long, Newt deserves it xx

‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’

Y/N recognised it was Minho was calling for help. Clint and Jeff ran out of the med hut to see what all the commotion was. It wasn’t long before they were hurrying back inside, carrying Newt of all people between them, Minho and Alby in tow.

‘Clear the table,’ Clint ordered, and Y/N quickly followed through, practically throwing off containers, bowls and medical instruments to get Newt on there as quick as possible. Once Newt was up, Y/N finally noticed the unnatural twist in his ankle and it almost sent Frypan’s sloppy sweet potato soup right back up.

She was still pretty new to her job as a Medjack, being the greenie and all. She was the only girl in the Glade of the current twelve residents, so she was intimidated at first as to what role she could play in the place. Medjack seemed the most suitable, and she seemed to have a knack for it, having stitched up some eyebrows and cleaned up knee scrapes with ease and precision.

But even though she’d seen blood, dealt with displaced bones and joints, she still got queasy doing her job. It didn’t help that Newt was hissing through clenched teeth from the intense pain, an occasional sob passing through.

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Minho said. ‘We split up for only five minutes. I thought we could cover more ground that way. And we’ve run that part of the Maze like a hundred times already. I thought we’d be fine…’

Clint held Newt down as Jeff and Y/N took a look at Newt’s ankle. Jeff only pressed gently with his fingers around the bone, but Newt’s responding howls confirmed the severity of the injury.

‘The bone is completely shattered,’ Jeff said grimly. ‘We’re going to need to reset his foot first though. Y/N?’

‘On it.’ She rushed to a shelf that held bandages, then to a cupboard with flat boards about shin length. She grabbed two of those before heading back to the table.

‘You’re going to have to hold him down,’ Y/N directed at Alby and Minho, gesturing to follow Clint’s efforts. Then she turned to Newt, whose face was slicked with tears and sweat as he continued to writhe in pain. ‘Newt. Newt, can you open your eyes for me? I need you to focus on me.’

To his credit, Newt opened his eyes and he didn’t look away from her.

‘Good. Good, Newt,’ she said. ‘Now, we have to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?’

In the short time Y/N had known Newt – which arguably was no time at all, as he ran every day and she was in the Medjack hut all day. They didn’t interact unless he or another runner got hurt, or at dinner if only to say hello. Even so, she had come to know he liked it plain and straight, no bullshit. So, despite his pain, he took two deep, calming breaths and gave her a nod to say he was ready for what they had to do.

Y/N nodded back, then looked to the others, who had their hands braced on all Newt’s limbs. ‘Ready?’ she asked, to which they nodded in reply. Y/N gently held Newt’s ankle, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy. ‘Okay, on three. One, two…’ She cut herself off as she slammed her hands either side the ankle bone, causing a loud cracking sound as the ankle snapped back into place.

Newt’s wail of pain must’ve been heard from across the whole Glade it was so loud. He writhed and pulled to sit up, but the boys held him down as Y/N and Jeff bandaged the two splints either side of Newt’s ankle. Jeff then dabbed a small dose of chloroform in a cloth and pressed it to Newt’s nose. Soon enough, the boy was unconscious, finally pain-free.

‘You guys go have dinner,’ Y/N said to Clint and Jeff a little while later as they were cleaning up the hut. Alby and Minho had left soon after Newt fell asleep, but it was almost dinner time now. ‘I’ll stay with Newt tonight.’

‘You sure?’ Clint asked. ‘We can do shifts if you’d prefer.’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I insist. You guys rest up. I can do this. Consider this my final test to becoming a fully-fledged Medjack.’

Jeff chuckled. ‘You have much more to learn, Greenie, but suit yourself.’

‘We’ll bring you back some food, Y/N,’ Clint said as he and Jeff left the hut, leaving Y/N to idly clean up.

Newt woke up from a dull throbbing in his ankle, which turned into a harsh pain, causing him to sit up in alarm.

‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ a voice gently said as equally gentle hands pushed him back down.

‘My ankle,’ he said, voice hoarse and dry. ‘It hurts…’

The face of the voice finally came into view: it was the Greenie. Y/N offered him a small smile as he finally recognised her. In one hand, she held a needle with clear serum. Her other she offered to his leg. ‘May I? It’ll help, I promise.’

He hesitated for a moment, but the intense pain in his ankle broke his composure as he eagerly nodded. The painkiller worked immediately, and Newt sighed with relief as the throbbing eased significantly.

’There,’ Y/N said, wiping the needle. ’That should help for a bit. Sadly, we don’t have much left for me to give you more than once a day, but I’m hoping you won’t need it beyond the end of the month.’

Confusion clouded Newt’s mind as he tried to process her words. ‘What… What happened?’ But he answered his own question as images of the Maze flashed through his mind, and he remembered it all. How he bid farewell to Minho. How he climbed as high as he could along the Maze walls. How easy it was to let go.

Then the pain fully encompassed him, and then it was just a blur. How Minho found him. How Clint and Jeff laid him on the table he realised he was still on. How angry and embarrassed he felt having his friends see him broken and miserable.

Newt managed to pull himself into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind him to cushion the hut wall. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked glumly, eyes unable to lift from his injury.

He couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He was too tired, and, frankly, saw no point in keeping up appearances anymore.

To her credit, Y/N seemed to pick up on his mood, saying, ‘It will heal to a point you’ll be able to walk again. But it won’t ever heal properly.’

‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’

‘Potentially.’

’So I can’t be a Runner anymore?’ Y/N didn’t reply, finally drawing Newt’s attention away from the source of his pain and to her.

Newt had only interacted with Y/N on a few occasions. Mainly at mealtimes or the odd occasion he passed her by on the way back from a run, only talking as much as greeting and farewelling one another. As the only girl so far, of course he found her intriguing, but he never had time nor a reason to get to know her.

And while he’d come to think of her as the quiet and gentle Medjack in comparison to Clint and Jeff, he didn’t see an ounce of pity on her face as she looked at him. Only quiet contemplation, as if there could be any other answer but no to his question.

‘I guess that’s up to you and Alby,’ she finally said. ‘I mean, I know what I should say is no. I’m sure Clint and Jeff will say no. But it’ll more so come down to if you want to go back in or not.’ Her eyes flickered to his ankle, sadness glazing her eyes briefly before returning to him. ‘But I think I can take a guess as to what your answer will be.’

Newt’s gut twisted with guilt and shame that she’d figured it out, and his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. ‘So, you going to tell everyone?’ he asked, words thick with hopelessness. ‘I mean, that’s your job, right? Diagnose me, then tell Alby, then the whole glade how pathetic I am?’

Y/N shook her head. ‘I think you give me too much credit. I’m not an actual doctor, you know,’ she said, coming to stand beside him. She inspected his ankle for a moment, then turned her gaze to him, and it shocked him to see such intensity in her eyes. It was as if suddenly he was the most interesting person in the world.

‘I can say it was a running accident,’ she finally concluded. ‘You can tell your truth when you’re ready. It’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it right now. That includes me.’

He stared, stunned, as she packed up the last of her things by a spare medical cot at the other end of the hut. It wasn’t until she let out a loud yawn that Newt noticed it was dark outside. The silence of the Glade told him everyone else had gone to bed so it was late. Or early, he couldn’t really tell.

Y/N fluffed a sad excuse of a pillow and put it on the cot. ‘Now that I know you’re alive, are you going to be okay if I get a few minutes shut eye? I can stay up if you’d like.’

Now that the initial shock and embarrassment of the day’s events had subsided, Newt realised how exhausted he was still. ‘No, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think I should rest a bit more anyway.’

Y/N nodded and swung her legs up to lie down fully. Newt went to slide himself and his pillow back down to do the same when Y/N spoke again.

‘And Newt?’ she said, her voice soft and almost hesitant.

‘Yeah?’ he called back.

She was silent for so long Newt thought she’d gone to sleep. But then she spoke. ‘For the record, I don’t think you’re pathetic. For wanting it all to end, that is. I actually think what you did was really brave. You might be scared and maybe out of hope, but at least you did something about it. The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

Newt’s breath caught in his chest as it swelled with a mix of emotions. Brave? What he did was the act of a coward. Tears streamed silently down his face, both from a deep shame, but also a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Newt had lost all hope after a year of searching for a way out and finding nothing. But she didn’t know that, and neither will the next Greenie, or the Greenie after that. Even some of the boys already in the Glade didn’t know that. That’s why they waited every day for the runners – for him – to come back with news, with a shred of hope that they’d get out of there soon.

Newt twisted himself so he could see Y/N, who was rolled away from him, her body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Even if he thought it would all be hopeless in the end, some truly believed they would get out of here.

And maybe that was something worth fighting for.

Two years on and Newt and Y/N had managed to forge something akin to a friendship.

Y/N had kept her word and said Newt had had a running accident, and he’d agreed with her for the sake of his worried friends. Y/N had also been right about his ankle; it healed to point where he could walk and do a decent jog with a limp. But he would never run again.

He was transferred to work as a Track-Hoe in the gardens with Zart. But it wasn’t all bad. As more boys arrived – never any girls much to their confusion – Newt developed a knack for leading others, for diffusing hard situations, and for wrangling the boys into line. Because of that, he was promoted to Alby’s second-in-command, which gave him more meaningful work to do than just the gardens – stuff that might actually get him and the other Gladers out of the bloody Maze.

It also meant he had more time to talk to Y/N. He would make sure to drop by once a day (and not just at mealtimes) to check in on her. For a time, he convinced himself he did that because it was his job as second-in-command to keep up group morale, and he would visit everyone in the Glade. Eventually, however, he realised it was because he genuinely enjoyed her company.

Since that night, Y/N had come out of her shell more. Still a little shy and apprehensive at times, but she would openly joke and play along with the boys’ antics. She was more confident in her work as a Medjack too, not afraid to boss Clint and Jeff around if she needed something from them.

Newt’s visits became longer, as they talked about any and all things. Aside from Alby and Minho, Newt considered Y/N one of his closest friends. And she must’ve felt the same – or at least in a similar fashion – as she entertained his thoughts about life beyond the Maze, and the rants he would go on thanks to whichever stupid shank put the fertiliser in the wrong place.

It was a friendship built on mutual respect and genuine care for one another, something that helped Newt convince Y/N to come with him and the others when they finally decided to leave the Maze. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep dread and guilt as he waited behind Thomas, knowing that Grievers were right around the corner.

While the others caught up, Newt turned to Y/N – who’d been helping him through the Maze with his limp – and offered her a spare spear he’d been carrying.

Her eyes widened at his offering. ‘I can’t take that. I can’t fight.’

‘Well, you can’t just go in there without something to protect yourself,’ he said, this time forcibly handing the spear over. Y/N clutched the spear awkwardly, and Newt saw the uncertainty in her eyes, in her trembling hands.

Newt felt bad for making her hold such a violent weapon. All her hands had ever done were help people, save them at times. Now he was asking her to kill. It was for the greater good they both knew, but to kill, nonetheless.

Newt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘you stay with me the whole time, do you understand? I promise you won’t have to use that unless absolute necessary.’

Y/N bit her lip to stop it trembling too, but she nodded, steeling herself in preparation for the fight ahead. Newt reciprocated the action and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before turning to face Thomas as he explained the plan.

They fought the Grievers, taking down a few while some of them took down Gladers. The Gladers were backed against the door that Teresa and Chuck were trying to open with a code. Minho shouted numbers at them as he, Newt, and the others fended off one last Griever.

Before he could finish, Minho was caught by a Griever, and Clint ran out to save him. But the Griever’s tail caught him, sending him over the edge of the walkway they fought on with one flick.

‘Clint!’

Before Newt could stop her, Y/N rushed out from behind him, spear drawn back and flying at the Griever in seconds. Not being a fighter to begin with, let alone a good one, the spear bounced off its metal leg without much effect. It did, however, alert the Griever to her presence, turning all its attention to her. Minho leapt to his feet, finally free, and ran back to the group. ‘Y/N!’ he cried as he ran. ‘Run!’

Y/N seemed to finally realise her situation, looking up at the Griever frozen with fear. The horrible creature raised its claw to end her, but Newt moved faster.

He ran as fast as he could, limp be damned, past Y/N and threw his spear at the Griever’s head. It landed true, puncturing one of the creature’s bulbous eyes, drawing a painful screech from it. Newt didn’t wait to see what it would do next, as he grabbed one of Y/N’s arms and Minho grabbed the other and ran back to the group, practically throwing her behind the front line and against the door.

Teresa finally got the door open and the Gladers tumbled in, Thomas throwing one last spear down the Griever’s throat as the doors closed.

Lights flickered on to show they were in some empty room with a door on the wall behind them leading to a corridor.

Thomas looked at the group, taking heavy breaths. ‘Everyone okay?’

‘What’s left of us, that is,’ Winston said, his tone sad and regretful.

As Newt eyed the group, he noted how many they’d lost, how little their group seemed all of a sudden.

Minho stepped ahead with Thomas, pointing towards the door. ‘Well? It’s not going to open itself.’

As Minho and Thomas led the group to the exit, Newt turned to Y/N, whose eyes had a distant look glazed over them. ‘What were you thinking?’ he asked, bringing her attention to him. ‘I told you to stay behind me. You could’ve been killed.’

‘I-I know. I’m sorry,’ she stuttered out, tears teetering in her E/C eyes. ‘I just… Clint… It all happened so fast, and I was just kind of moving before I knew what I was doing.’ She looked down at her hands then, and Newt noticed a slight tremble to them. ‘I thought I could help, but I was too slow. And I put you guys in danger too. I’m just… I’m sorry.’

Newt’s guilt came back full force then. He placed a gentle hand over her trembling one, grasping her fingers to stop their shaking. When she looked up at him confused, he just said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking you had to fight. You won’t ever hold a weapon like that again. I promise.’

Y/N opened her mouth to object no doubt, but Newt cut her off. ‘But you have to promise me something back. Promise me that you’ll let us protect you. You can help by keeping us alive, just like you always have. But you’ve got to listen to me, you got it?’

He used his authoritative voice this time, and it seemed to work as Y/N calmed down, her unshed tears now gone.

‘Okay,’ she said, quiet but strong. ‘I promise.’

Newt nodded. ‘Good that.’ He turned to see the others leaving through the door then turned back to Y/N. ’Do you think we’d be lucky enough not to face anything else beyond those doors.’

‘I think we should consider ourselves lucky for getting this far.’ To her credit, Y/N managed a small smile as she looked up at him. ‘But why should our luck run out now?’

There it was again; the glimmer of hope Newt had felt from her since the night he injured his ankle. Newt couldn’t deny that they’d made it this far – by design or by luck, they’d made it.

And who was he to deny that things might be on the look up for them now?

Together, Y/N and Newt followed the rest of the Gladers to meet their makers.

‘I never thought I’d say this… but I miss the Glade.’

The group around the fire grew silent at the implication Frypan’s words had, the memories they conjured up. Y/N couldn’t help but agree as she looked into the dark sky above her, peaking from behind the crumbling pillars they took refuge under.

The sky was always so clear back in the Glade, she recalled silently. But, just like their current situation, the sky was now obscured.

The people who rescued them from the Maze were actually WCKD – the people who’d put them in the Maze in the first place. The past twelve hours had seen herself, Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and a boy named Aris find Teresa, break out of the facility, and enter the deadly Scorch. In their search for supplies, they’d been attacked by crazed, infected people, driving the group to hide where they were.

The Maze was dangerous, but it was familiar and the only home Y/N recalled ever having. Out in the Scorch, safety wasn’t guaranteed.

She looked to Winston, who laid back, his shirt pulled up to expose the bloody bandage she’d wrapped his torso in. Y/N tried not to think about the infected scratch marks underneath, and more specifically what gave them to him. The Grievers were one thing, but the things that attacked them? They used to be people.

Not wanting to sit in her thoughts anymore, Y/N stood up, brushed off her pants, and grabbed knife from their pile of weapons they’d found in the abandoned mall. ‘I’ll take first watch.’

She didn’t wait to hear if anyone objected, already walking around the stone that covered them so she was on top. To her relief, the others let her go without argument, putting out the fire and quickly settling down to sleep.

After half an hour, Y/N decided to get up and patrol around the area, knife tightly gripped in her hand and her footsteps quiet despite the sand.

There was so much of it, the sand. The lady in white – Doctor Ava Paige – had said in her video that the whole world was just desert now. The thought made Y/N yearn for the Glade even more. For the grass, and the woods, and the bonfires they used to have, and the games they played. The boys – Clint, Jeff, Alby, Gally, Chuck.

Y/N wasn’t a hateful person, but she clutched the knife tighter at the thought of all the loss they’d all suffered at the hands of WCKD.

It’s why she didn’t hesitate to follow Newt when he’d found her in her room – for some reason, she hadn’t been allowed to stay with the other girls from the other mazes just yet. It’s why they were now braving the Scorch searching for people that Thomas didn’t know even existed. They wanted a better life out from under WCKD’s thumb.

The crunch of sand had her whirling around, awkwardly poising the knife as if to attack, but she relaxed at the familiar person standing there.

Newt raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, the quirk of a smile on his lips telling her he was just joking. ‘You could do some real damage if you’re not careful.’

Y/N blew out in relief, the knife dropping to her side again. ‘Thanks, but we both know that’s not the case, Newt.’

Newt shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he did. ‘I don’t know, I’ve seen you with a scalpel. Absolutely terrifyingly precise with that thing.’

Y/N chuckled softly, appreciative of the distraction. But her smile dropped as she looked out into the dark cityscape. The moon hid behind clouds so Y/N couldn’t make out anything. ‘Is it pathetic that I’m scared to see what the world has become?’ she asked, not daring to raise her voice above a soft mumble.

Newt stepped up beside her, his body radiating the last remnants of heat from the fire and it warmed her slightly. ’Someone once told me that I was brave for facing my fear,’ he said after some quiet contemplation.

Y/N looked up at him confused, but he looked down at her with a knowing, smug smile. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him. ‘I don’t recall saying that specifically. But if that’s how you saw it, who am I to tell you that wasn’t what I meant?’

Newt hummed in agreement looking back out at the dark expanse, contemplation scrunching his brows together. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too.’

That surprised Y/N. Newt, second-in-command, casual, leader Newt was scared? ‘You are?’

Newt nodded. ‘I’m scared that we’ve made a mistake. That Thomas is wrong and there aren’t any mountain people.’ He turned back to Y/N, the most serious she’d ever seen him. ‘I’m scared we’re going to lose more of us, and then what was our escape for? But… it’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it. Including myself.’ Finally, Newt’s smile returned, and it warmed that cold pit of despair Y/N had been falling into ever since they left the WCKD facility. ‘Or, at least, I think that’s what someone very wise once told me.’

Y/N stared at him, awestruck. Hopeful. Newt was hopeful again. And she didn’t want to read into it, but she thought the knowing smile he was giving her told her that she had something to do with it. The thought alone strengthened her resolve, and she looked down at the knife in her hands, less afraid of it all of a sudden.

Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question. ‘What?’

’Teach me. How to fight,’ Y/N explained, eyes unwavering from his.

Concern flashed across Newt’s face for a brief moment. ‘Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.’

‘If there is one thing I’ve come to know about WCKD is that it doesn’t actually matter what I want anymore. What any of us want,’ Y/N said, feeling the most certain she’s felt in a long time. ‘The one thing we have on WCKD is that we are defiant. We escaped, and are taking away the one thing they want most of all: a chance to find a cure. So, if we’re going to have any hopes of making it to the mountains alive, I’m going to have to know how to fight. So please – teach me.’

Newt contemplated her for a moment, and Y/N just prayed he wouldn’t say no. Or even worse, laugh. Instead of doing either, he took the knife from Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing across her palm as he did.

‘All right,’ he said, moving his feet apart to get into a fighting stance. ‘First of all, you’ve got to have a wide-ish stance, and stay light on your toes so you can control when you back away from your opponent.’

He demonstrated the movement by quickly shuffling away, always keeping his feet a certain distance apart and the knife gripped tight by his hip. ‘…and when you go into attack.’ He moved so fast Y/N didn’t see his footwork, her eyes locked on his as they bored into hers, knife poised at her neck as if he’d strike.

He stepped away and gave her the knife back. ‘You think you can do that?’

Y/N nodded and took the knife, and for the next hour Newt taught Y/N basic blocks and manoeuvres that he’d picked up from Thomas and Minho and just from basic instinct. Just like she’d been with her Medjack skills, Y/N was a quick study, performing move after move when Newt asked her to.

She impressed herself. For a natural pacifist, she wielded the knife quite fluently.

They decided to finish the session on a quick sparring match. Newt took a swipe at Y/N, and she stepped back just like Newt had taught her. She then rushed in for an attack, to which Newt threw up his own knife in time to block. Y/N anticipated the pushback and twisted out of Newt’s way as he stumbled slightly forward. While he was disorientated, Y/N gripped his wrist that controlled his knife and pointed her own into his back.

‘Looks like I win,’ she said, breathless but proud.

Y/N didn’t like the carefree scoff he gave her, followed by, ‘Are you sure?’

She doubted herself for a moment, loosening her grip enough for him to twist out of her reach, knock her knife away and bend to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Y/N landed hard, groaning at the pain in her butt as Newt looked down at her and laughed.

‘I’m glad you find my pain amusing, Newt,’ she grumbled, rubbing her sore behind.

Newt laughed for a moment longer then calmed down. But his radiant smile remained on his face, brightening the darkness surrounding them. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said between remaining chuckles. To his credit, he held out his hand in an offer to help her up. ’But the surprise on your face was priceless.’

Y/N contemplated his hand for a moment, whether she should just push it away or take it. Instead, an idea came to mind, and she gripped his hand tightly then pulled him to the ground with her. He landed on his stomach beside her, getting a face full of sand.

Y/N let out a loud laugh before quickly covering her mouth to stifle the relentless laughter that wished to burst from her.

Newt spat and coughed out sand as he made to sit up. ‘Well,’ he started, spitting out more sand as he looked up at Y/N, ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’

That just made Y/N laugh even harder, using now both hands to quieten the giggles. Goodness, when was the last time she’d laughed this freely? When was the last time she’d felt such joy? After everything they’d been through, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten what was like to laugh.

When she’d calmed down, she looked down to see Newt propped up on his arms looking up at her with an odd expression on his face. Like he was in awe, maybe. Whatever it was, it made Y/N acknowledge how handsome Newt had become. His baby features had faded since she’d first met him, being replaced by a lean figure and a toned jawline from working in the gardens every day for two years. And with his big brown eyes, tousled blond hair and funny accent, Y/N wondered how he had changed so much without her realising it. How she hadn’t realised he’d grown up.

The intensity with which he looked at her brought a heated blush to her face, and so she turned away into the cool night breeze, willing the blush to cool down. Newt shuffled to sit up next to her. They didn’t speak for a minute, until Newt suddenly stood up.

‘Well, um,’ he started, and for the first time since Y/N had known him, he sounded uncertain about what to say. ‘I better let you continue with your shift. At least you know how to defend yourself now.’

Y/N hastily stood up as well, making sure there was at least a step between them. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to practice.’

‘Good that.’

They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Newt said he was leaving, he made no move to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to, she thought, and the mere possibility of that being true warmed her heart.

But he took a step away, gave her a shy smile and a small wave farewell. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’

‘Goodnight Newt,’ she said, those two words hanging in the air long after he’d left.

As she finally woke Frypan up for his shift, she clung to the knife and went through all the manoeuvres Newt had taught her until she fell asleep.

Newt was unable to sleep until Y/N woke Frypan up to take the next watch shift, and laid down to sleep herself. Newt opened his eyes to see Y/N laying across the pit they’d dug out for the fire. She faced him on her side, and Newt noticed with curiosity that she held the knife she’d practiced with close to her chest. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and paired with her heavy breathing, Newt figured she was completely asleep.

An odd sensation fluttered in his chest and stomach as Newt considered Y/N’s sleeping face. It was the same feeling that had fizzled in his chest when he’d looked up at her as she laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time any of them had laughed as freely as she had.

And he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked doing so – hiding her bright smile behind trembling hands, eyes narrowed but sparkling with joy.

All because of him.

He rolled onto his back then, not wanting to give the thought anymore weight. There’s no point getting your hopes up, he reminded himself. But like a moth drawn to flame, Newt couldn’t help but tilt his head to gaze upon her peacefully sleeping. An ache carved itself deep in his heart. How had he not realised her growing up, changing? Being the only girl for a long time, of course he and the others found her pretty. But now that he looked at her – really looked at her, and wasn’t concerned with his life for just a split second – he realised just how beautiful she was.

It was in her features, but also in her determination to be better for the group. It both hurt and impressed him when she asked for his help. He promised her she would never have to fight again, but things have changed drastically since the Maze.

It was in her ability to still find the joy in things, to still be able to laugh despite their situation.

It was how she believed in Thomas, in Aris, in the mountain people, even if she was scared.

‘The rest of us can only wish to be as brave as you,’ he whispered into the night, a silent promise that he’d tell her that sometime.

And with the fluttering in his chest finally easing into a calm warmth, he finally fell asleep.

Everything exploded with chaos as Y/N, Newt, Thomas, and Minho navigated their way through the Right Arm camp as guns fired and explosions went off.

Teresa had betrayed them. Y/N couldn’t believe it when it was revealed in front of everyone, and she still couldn’t believe it as Minho pushed her head down, sheltering her from another explosion. Teresa truly believed WCKD could find a cure, but still at the expanse of Y/N and her friends’ pain. And just when Thomas was going to blow them all sky high, Jorge and Brenda had come in like a saving grace, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

‘This way!’ Thomas yelled over the din, beckoning them behind a weapons container.

However, Minho stopped suddenly and picked up a launcher. Keep going!’ Minho called over his shoulder as he shot at WCKD soldiers around him. ‘I’m right behind you!’

Thomas and Newt reached the container, but Y/N stopped and turned at the sound of a painful cry. ‘Minho!’ she cried as her friend fell, his body convulsing from a launcher shot.

‘Y/N, no!’ Newt called after her, but she was already running back to Minho, grabbing at his jacket to drag him to safety.

But Y/N was not strong like the boys, and certainly not strong enough to move Minho in any hurry. She looked up just in time to see a launcher fire at her, then her body felt like it was on fire.

She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything as the electricity struck every nerve with a vicious bite. After what felt like an eternity of pain, she was granted a moment of peace as her vision went white, then in a flash was swamped by darkness.

Newt’s heart stopped when he saw Y/N shot. She convulsed as Minho had, then collapsed beside their friend unconscious. The second Y/N hit the ground, Newt found his voice again, feelings of anger and desperation clawing their way through every vein in him.

‘Y/N, no!’ His cry came out broken as he made to run to her, but a strong hand gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him back.

‘No, boys,’ Vince shouted over the din, holding both Newt and Thomas back.

‘Let me go!’ Newt protested, struggling against Vince, eyes darting between him and Y/N. ‘I need to help her! Y/N!’

But WCKD soldiers were already picking up Y/N and Minho’s unconscious bodies, dragging their feet through the red dirt and into a berg.

‘I’m sorry, son,’ Vince said, and Newt thought he sounded genuine. But that didn’t stop icy terror gripping tight on his heart as the doors began to close on Y/N, Minho, and other immunes from the Right Arm.

Thomas called for Minho, and Newt called for Y/N, but neither could do anything to help their friends as they were flown away. Back in WCKD’s clutches once again.

When the sun rose, the remaining survivors came out of hiding and began scrounging up supplies. They were moving on, Vince claiming there was nothing they could do but keep going with who and what they had left.

Newt couldn’t accept that, and neither could Thomas apparently, as he claimed he was going after Minho, Y/N and the others. Without hesitation or any further explanation, Newt was the first to sign up and join him.

And so, they went on a quest to rescuing Minho, Y/N, and as many immunes as possible. The train hijack was a huge success with immune numbers, but no Minho and no Y/N. Even so, Newt refused to accept that he’d never see either of them again. Even when they almost got killed by cranks. Even when he, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan, and Jorge were almost blown up by turret guns.

Even when he found out he was infected with the Flare.

He could feel it, his mind slowly slipping away as the Flare ate away at his sanity. He was usually level-headed and rational – it’s part of the reason he became second-in-command in the first place. Guilt and shame ate away at him as he sat on the rooftop of their hideout in the outskirts of the Last City, explaining to Thomas why he just bit his head off about being in love with Teresa.

Not that I’m one to talk, he thought as he rolled down as his sleeve, silence wrapping around him and Thomas comfortably. Newt could feel Thomas didn’t know what to say, and Newt didn’t like long silences so he broke it.

‘The crazy thing, though is…’ Newt started, a soft but sad scoff escaping him, ‘I’m not scared of dying. I used to be, back in the Maze. Because it felt like my friends were dying for no reason, without purpose. But…’ Newt looked over his shoulder, past Thomas, and to the peaking spires of the Last City. To where Y/N was being held somewhere.

‘I have something to die for now,’ Newt said, eyes never wavering from the spires.

Thomas came to sit beside Newt, a sad realisation drawing his brows and lips down. ‘You’re not just talking about Minho, are you?’ he asked.

It was how gentle and matter-of-fact Thomas spoke that had Newt’s chest tightening with fear and an immense pressure he’d been scared, until now, to acknowledge. His throat threatened to close on him as he spoke, rendering his words tight and uncontrolled. ‘I failed to protect her, Tommy,’ he managed to get out. ‘I promised I’d always protect her, and I didn’t.’

It surprised Newt how simultaneously hard and easy it was to speak about his feelings, and now that he had started, the words just flowed.

’She’s just always been there, so I never saw it coming,’ Newt continued, a melancholic smile adorning his lips as he recalls the day he met you, how you helped him with his ankle. How, since then, you’ve always been by his side, growing with him, changing with him, supporting him and everyone else around you.

’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.

‘I never saw that I could have a future after the Maze, after all of this,’ Newt explained. ‘That I would want a future… with Y/N.’ And with that, his tears finally spilled over, the pressure in his chest bursting into sobs that wracked his whole body. Newt was vaguely aware that Thomas was now holding him, and so he wrapped his arms tight around his friend, around his brother.

‘I love her, Tommy,’ Newt whispered over Thomas’ shoulder, his words obscured somewhat by his tears and holding back sobs. ‘And I’m scared I’ll never be able to tell her before I go.’

‘Hey,’ Thomas said, pushing Newt to arm’s length. He kept one hand on Newt’s shoulder and used his other to grip Newt’s neck, forcing their eyes to lock. ‘We’re going to find her – and Minho, and the other immunes. We’re going to get you that serum that helps with the Flare – as much of it as possible – and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. No one is dying. You hear me?’

No one could replace Alby, but the way Thomas was taking control of the situation reminded Newt of his old friend. How kind yet stern he could be. How hopeful yet pragmatic he was. It was something familiar that Newt was thankful for. He quickly calmed down, wiped away his tears and nodded at Thomas.

‘Good that,’ Thomas said, a small proud smile gracing his lips at his use of Newt’s common phrase.

Newt couldn’t help a chuckle as well. ‘Good that, indeed,’ he agreed, and followed Thomas back inside the hideout to finalise their plan to get into the WCKD facility.

…and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying.

There was a nagging voice in the back of Newt’s head that was telling him not to believe Thomas. That Newt was going to die, or worse, turn into a crank and hurt his loved ones. That voice had followed him from the Maze, to the Scorch, and now the Last City. It was the voice that had driven him over the edge of the Maze walls all those years ago. But not anymore.

Newt had to keep hope, just as Y/N had taught him. He just had to be brave.

Y/N sat in the corner of her white-walled cell, hugging her knees to her chest as she rested her head on top. She’d sat there for hours, perhaps days. Y/N lost track of time after her first month in WCKD’s facility.

There were no windows, and the lights never dimmed. She pressed her eyes into her knees in the hopes of downing out the incessant white light. Her eyes ached with sleep deprivation, but she refused to sleep. The nightmares were much worse to deal with, and they always came whenever she closed her eyes.

Images of her friends dying in the Maze and the Scorch, of Grievers chasing her, of her friends turning into cranks and attacking her. Images fed to her by WCKD.

She knew they weren’t real, but she could never wake herself up in time to escape them. So, she stayed awake, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to face her nightmares when the doctors and scientists come to test on her again.

Y/N shivered at the thought of seeing another needle, of seeing her blood drained from her while WCKD turned her mind against her. When will it be enough? She might’ve lost track of time, but Y/N knew she’d been in the facility for a while now. If they hadn’t found anything by now, something told Y/N that nothing she gave would ever be enough. That included her life.

She knew Thomas and Newt would be dumb enough to come after her and Minho – that’s just the kind of people they were. Her heart ached at the thought that their efforts would be in vain.

Y/N hadn’t seen Minho since they arrived, having been separated from each other and the other immunes. Something about how they were the most promising subjects, she overheard from a scientist one time. Y/N didn’t know if Minho was alive, and if he was, what condition he was in.

But Minho was strong, the strongest of all the Gladers in Y/N’s opinion. If he was being tortured like her, he would be able to hold on. Y/N highly doubted she would last much longer.

The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…

Y/N wasn’t sure if Newt knew she was actually awake that first night in the Scorch, but she’d heard him, his words so soft she thought she’d dreamt it at first. But it had been real; Newt thought she was brave.

She was too dehydrated to produce tears, but an ugly sob desperately tried to escape her aching chest. She bit her lips instead, hard enough to draw a little blood, and the sob died out, leaving her body quiet except for her mind.

I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.

Even so, Y/N refused to crumble to WCKD anymore. They’d taken everything from her. Her life, her memories, her loved ones, her friends. Even her hope – something she so naively believed no one could take from her. They would not take her dignity.

She raised her head at the sound of her cell door unlocking, blinking a few times as bright light flooded her vision once more. Two WCKD soldiers and two scientists stood by the door, and Y/N spied a gurney just behind them.

One of the scientists – young male, maybe in his early twenties – stepped forward. ‘Time for more testing, Y/N,’ he said in a cold tone. But he had the sense to look sympathetic as his eyes roamed over Y/N as she stood up, showing how pale her S/C skin had become, how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, how the cargo pants and grey t-shirt hung off her in areas where she used to fill.

Y/N knew it was useless, but still she ran for the door, pushing past the scientists with ease despite her weakened state. However, she hit the soldiers like a brick wall, unable to fight against them as they restrained her arms and pressed her against the wall. The male scientist recovered quickly and injected her with a serum that made her drowsy enough that she wasn’t in control of her body. She was conscious as the soldiers strapped her to the gurney and the four of them wheeled her down corridor after corridor, and all she could do was watch fluorescent lights pass her by as she stared at the ceiling.

Soon enough, she was in a familiar room: the test lab.

‘It hasn’t been that long since we last tested her,’ the other scientist – a female, about the same age as her co-worker – said, her words laced with worry. ‘We put her under again, we risk losing her for good this time.’

‘I didn’t make the call,’ the male said as he continued to set up equipment around Y/N. ‘When Janson says he wants a cure, I don’t question him. Do you?’

The female didn’t answer, switching her focus to helping her co-worker. Y/N could slowly feel the serum wearing off – it was obviously only a light dose, the scientists knowing they’d put her under when they began testing.

But just as they unstrapped her to move her to the nightmare simulator, the room shook, sending Y/N rolling to the ground as glass and steel broke around her.

Sounds were muffled briefly and her vision blurred in and out of focus. She couldn’t hear what exactly the soldiers were shouting, but she saw them run out of the room alongside other soldiers. That just left her and the scientists.

Y/N flexed her fingers, the serum completely wearing off. Before she could stand though, two hands roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on, Y/N,’ the male scientist said, pushing her towards the machine. ‘Just one more trip under…’

Fear electrified Y/N’s every nerve. No, not again. With a desperate cry, she shoved the male into the utensils table, sending him and the tools scattering across the ground. Before he could get up, Y/N straddled his upper body and slammed his arms into the ground.

‘Get off me!’ he yelled, struggling violently beneath Y/N. He managed to twist them both around until she was the one pinned to the ground. Y/N struggled but to no avail. She was significantly weaker than she was when she was first captured and he knew that.

‘You little brat,’ he spat in her face. ‘Ungrateful, selfish immunes. Your duty is to save us all! You–’

He was cut off when he suddenly went slack, falling unconscious on top of Y/N. She scrambled out from underneath him, then looked up from the floor to find the female scientist with a syringe in her hand. She looked between her unconscious co-worker then Y/N, a scared and disbelieving expression morphing her delicate features.

‘Go,’ the scientist finally said, her voice shaky, but the resolve in her eyes told Y/N that she wouldn’t chase after her. The room – no, the whole building – shook again, and when Y/N looked out the window, she realised why.

The city outside was on fire. Buildings crumbled, and Y/n could hear the screams and cries of civilians through the broken windows. The scientist wouldn’t chase her because there was no point.

This was the end.

‘Go!’ The scientist insisted, and Y/N didn’t think twice. She picked herself up, ignoring the cuts and scraps of glass it caused her, and ran out of the room.

She ran into the corridor, ignoring the cries of soldiers and other scientists who recognised her as a subject. She didn’t know where she was going, but this was the most freedom she’d had in forever.

Then a thought came to her – Minho. She had to find him, he surely had to be alive. She would run through every floor if she had to to find him. So she ran, looking into every test lab, every storage closest, every break room on the floor.

‘Minho!’ she cried, uncaring at this point if someone heard her. She just wanted to find him. She didn’t want to die without a familiar face with her. ‘Minho, where are you?’

She rounded a corner, right into the chest of a WCKD soldier. He was caught by surprise, giving Y/N an opportunity to slam him into the wall. It was like her fear was giving her a boost of strength, as she kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground. He dropped the pistol he was holding, and she quickly picked it up and smacked the butt over the back of his head. He fell to the floor in one last scuffle and laid unmoving as Y/N sucked in deep breaths.

‘Y/N?’

She whirled around at the familiar call of her name, only to find three other people had entered the corridor. Thomas, Minho, and Newt. Her eyes scanned over them all, heart aching with an intense relief it threatened to crush her chest. ‘Guys?’ Her voice was hoarse with disuse and exhaustion. She was surprised she even had a voice after all her screaming.

Newt stepped forward, a relieved smile gracing his lips. ‘Yeah, love,’ he said, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘It’s us.’

Y/N’s first instinct was to run into his arms, the only place she’d felt since leaving the Maze. But she took a closer look at him. He was paler than when she last saw him, almost sickly with how dark the circles under his eyes were. Crank.

She pointed the pistol at her friends, causing them to raise their hands in shock. ‘Whoa, Y/N, it’s us!’ Thomas exclaimed.

‘No,’ she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘How do I know I’m not in that simulator again? How do I know this isn’t just another test, another trial?’

‘What are you talking about, Y/N?’ Newt asked, worry crinkling his brow.

’She doesn’t trust her mind,’ Minho said, as if in explanation. ‘Boy, they really did a number on her…’

‘Shut up!’ Y/N unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at Minho. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. Make me think everything is all right. But it’s just a lie. You’re not here. You’re not here…’

Newt stepped into the firing line. ‘We are here, love. I promise, we’re really here.’

‘Newt…’ Thomas warned, but Newt remained, eyes locked on Y/N’s.

Y/N couldn’t look away from Newt. He sounded so genuine, so much more real than previous simulations. But WCKD couldn’t be trusted, and they were wearing soldier uniforms…

Her hands shook but her voice was strong. ‘Prove it,’ she said. ’Tell me something only the real Newt would know.’

Newt swallowed thickly. ‘Okay, um… You cut yourself when you tried out being a Slicer and had to have Clint and Jeff fix you up. That’s when you thought being a Medjack would be a good idea.’

‘WCKD was watching us the whole time. They would’ve seen that,’ she countered, using both hands to grip the gun.

‘Okay, okay,’ Newt said, looking away a moment to think of something else. When he finally looked back at her, he was calm once more, eyes genuine and sincere. ‘How about how I jumped off the walls of the Maze in an attempt to kill myself?’

The world around the four of them seemed to freeze, as if the world wasn’t collapsing outside. To Y/N’s knowledge, Newt had never told anyone the truth of what happened that day. It was the shocked and tragic expressions on both Minho and Thomas’ faces respectively that had Y/N loosening her grip on the gun slightly.

Newt took a small step closer, eyes never straying from her. ‘I had lost all hope of getting out of that bloody maze. So I did the one thing I could do to control the situation. But I failed.’ He stepped closer again. ‘I was embarrassed, ashamed. I was just a coward. But you healed me and told me something I will never forget. I have held onto it like a lifeline through the Maze, through the Scorch, and all the time I was looking for you.’

He took one final step towards her, unfazed at how the gun pressed hard against his chest. Now that he was so close, Y/N saw just how sick he was. He looked like the early stage victims of the Flare they’d seen in the decrepit city they’d lost Brenda and Thomas in temporarily. And while Y/N refused to believe Newt – her beloved, sweet Newt – was infected, his eyes were the same as always. Open, honest, and truthful.

‘The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’

It wasn’t the fact that he knew the exact words – again, WCKD had cameras everywhere in that Maze, they would’ve heard it. It was instead the emotion tied to the words. She felt them, felt the lifeline they’d created for him in his darkest moment. He wasn’t lying, and that meant he was real.

Finally, she allowed the sob to break free as she dropped the gun and threw her arms around Newt’s neck. He breathed out in relief, bringing her closer to his chest, face pressed into her H/C hair.

‘It’s really you,’ she whimpered, grasping tighter to the person she’s always been able to rely on. The person who has always protected her and brought out the best in her. Her closest friend, her safety net, her home.

‘It is, love,’ he said into her hair, breathing her in deeply. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling away to look up at him then to the other two. ‘I can’t believe you came after us.’

‘I know right,’ Minho said, punching Thomas’ arm lightly. ‘Dumb shanks.’

‘You can berate us later,’ Thomas said, rubbing his arm. ‘Right now, we’ve got to get out of here before Lawrence brings down the whole city.’

Y/N went to ask what he meant but gripped onto Newt instead as the building shook again.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Newt said, grabbing Y/N’s hand with one hand, and holding a launcher in the other. Together, the four of them ran to escape WCKD once and for all.

‘Brenda!’

Y/N didn’t care about the rain of bullets and walls of fire around her as she ran for the berg. After hearing Teresa’s broadcast, she needed to get the cure back to Newt fast. Leaving him was one of the hardest things she has had to do. He wasn’t in great condition, but Thomas insisted that he’d take care of Newt. But the medicine Thomas had given Brenda all those months ago didn’t just buy her time, it had cured her completely. It could do the same for Newt.

If she could make it in time.

‘Brenda!’ Y/N cried as she spotted her friend. ‘The cure! I need the cure!’

Brenda understood, immediately retrieving one of the extra capsules Mary had made from Thomas’ blood before WCKD raided the camp. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the injector.

‘Thanks!’ Y/N said, already sprinting back into the war zone before anyone could stop her.

She could feel it, the exhaustion, the strain she was putting her body under. Underfed and under trained, she was struggling. But she refused to stop. Newt had come all this way to find her, risked his life to get her out of WCKD’s clutches when he could’ve been administered the temporary cure and been safe on the berg already. No, Y/N refused to let him die without trying.

Minho, Brenda, Frypan, and Gally – Y/N was still shocked about that revelation, but that was for another time to discuss - followed around her, covering her with guns and other weapons as they ran through the war zone.

After an eternity of running, the group rounded a corner to find a sight that made Y/N feel like she was back in the nightmare simulator. Newt was leaning over Thomas with a knife aimed at his chest.

‘Newt, no!’ Y/N cried, running towards the two boys without thought.

Newt faced her at the call of his name, and she froze as she saw his black eyes. Dark veins branched over his skin and black blood dribbled from his chin. He was a full-blown crank now.

He raced at her, snarling as he swung the knife at her throat. She ducked just in time and rolled away as he slammed the knife down where her neck was. She quickly jumped to her feet, and despite her fatigue, muscle memory took over her legs, then her hands. That first night in the Scorch came to mind, how her and Newt sparred. The injector was her knife, and Newt her proper opponent.

‘Newt, it’s me,’ she said, slipping into her Medjack demeanour – calm and steady. ‘It��s Y/N. Please, snap out of it for a moment so I can help you.’

She thought he would run at her again, but his brows crinkled with concern and he looked at the knife in his shaky hands. He looked back at her, and the voice he spoke with broke her heart. It was a mixture of his sweet accent and a gargled croak where blood clogged his throat.

‘Y/N…’ he started. ‘Run away… Before… Before I kill you.’

The scene reminded her of the time he came in with his injured ankle. How desperate he was to fade into nothing because he was scared and ashamed of what he’d done. But just like then, she refused to be scared of him.

Y/N shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you, Newt,’ she said. ‘None of us will.’

Newt seemed to realise there were more people than just her and Thomas, turning around to see the others. The sight of them seemed to distress him, though, as he snarled angrily and charged at her. She shuffled back as he swung at her again and again, but as she stepped back again, she tripped on something. She fell onto her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Before she could gather herself up, Newt was on her, straddling her similar to how he had Thomas pinned before. Newt raised the knife to bring down on her but was tackled by Thomas.

They rolled for a little, then scrambled to their feet as they fought once more. This was Y/N’s only chance. She pushed herself up and ran for the boys, injector at the ready. Newt was bringing the knife forward in a wide arc that would gut Thomas when Y/N threw herself in between them, slamming the injector into Newt’s arm.

Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.

‘Y/N!’

She wasn’t sure who called her name, because all she could focus on was Newt as some of the blackness in his eyes cleared and she saw some of his gorgeous brown eyes. She also felt her body finally giving up. As if it knew that this was the end. After all the torture and pain, she had stayed alive so long for one reason. To save Newt – the boy who had been there from the start. So much so she hadn’t realised until he wasn’t there how much he meant to her. How he’d wormed his way into her heart and consumed it without her even knowing.

She gripped his hand that held the knife in her stomach, unfurled his fingers from the handle, and brought them to her chest where her heart was slowly slowing down. Her weak legs gave out, and she brought Newt down to his knees with her. She could’ve been imagining things, but she swore she saw recognition in his half-black eyes which made her smile as tears finally fell from her eyes.

‘It’s okay, Newt,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay because… I love you.’

Her vision blurred and she finally let go of Newt as the both of them collapsed to the ground. Her breaths were short and sharp as the pain made itself known. A rush of feet thumped around her, and she had the slightest awareness that someone was moving her, but she didn’t care. She was finally at peace as darkness, at last, consumed her.

Y/N woke to the sound of waves rolling over on sand. The first thing she saw was grey canvas, then rolled her head around to see she was lying on a cot in a small tent with tables and medical supplies similar to how her Medjack hut looked. But she wasn’t alone.

‘Oh my God.’ Brenda’s face came into focus as the girl crouched by Y/N’s cot, disbelief and relief morphing her gentle features. ‘You’re awake! You’re finally awake!’

‘Ow,’ Y/N clasped at her head at the sudden loudness. ‘Could you lower your voice please?’

‘Yes, right, sorry,’ Brenda said, but her lips split in a bright smile as she helped Y/N sit up. ‘I’m just so happy you’re okay.’

‘What happened?’ Y/N asked, all she remembered was being stabbed then falling unconscious. She pulled up her fresh linen shirt to see her wound bandaged. ‘I thought I was done for.’

‘So did all of us,’ Brenda admitted, her tone sombre as she pulled up a seat beside the cot. ‘We got you to the berg as quickly as possible and Vince got you stable, but you just weren’t waking up. It’s been a week.’

‘A week?’ Y/N made to get up but sat back down as her wound pulled in an unpleasant way.

‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going?’ Brenda asked stabilising Y/N back in her bed. ‘You’ve just come out of a coma induced by physical and mental torture. Not to mention you were stabbed.’

‘I’m fine. Trust me, I’m trained… somewhat,’ Y/N said, this time able to swing her legs over the side of her cot. Brenda didn’t try and stop her, but she did have to help Y/N when she stood. ‘Now, where is Newt?’ Brenda didn’t answer right away, and tears threatened to pool in Y/N’s eyes at what her silence could mean. ‘Brenda… Is he… Is he alive?’

Brenda, again, didn’t answer, and her face didn’t give anything away either. Instead, she just held back the flap of the tent and motioned for Y/N to exit. Y/N took cautious steps forward as she followed Brenda into a completely new place that had her staring in awe.

It was a bustling camp where sleeping quarters and other spaces were mapped out by canvas strung up on carved wood pillars and posts. Y/N spied a kitchen area where she swore she heard Frypan laughing with some others.

There was a gathering area where a giant stone stood in front of the seats. There were names carved into it, like what they used to do in the Glade. Y/N tried to make out if a certain blonde’s name was on it. She caught familiar names like Alby and Chuck, Clint and Jeff.

‘Y/N?’

She swung around to find Brenda smiling as she was joined by Thomas, Minho, and Jorge. The three of them ran at her, arms wide open to capture her in a hug.

‘You crazy shank, Minho said, laughter on his lips. ‘Look who finally decided to join the living again.’

‘And here I thought I was the lazy slinthead for sleeping for so long,’ Thomas said jokingly, pulling Y/N in for another hug. ’I’m so relieved.’

‘Welcome back, hermana,’ Jorge said, a warm smile gracing his lips as he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

‘Good to be back,’ Y/N replied, smiling at the three males. ‘What happened after I thought I’d died?’

Thomas went to reply, but Minho cut in. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now, I think you should go say hi to someone else.’

Confused, Y/N followed Minho’s gaze to Brenda, who stood atop a hill and was staring over the other side of it. Y/N quickly reached Brenda’s position and followed her gaze to a large garden that people were working on. But her breath caught at the sight of a familiar blond at the edge of the gardens talking and pointing in all directions to people.

‘Hey, Newt!’ Brenda called out, causing the blond to turn around and look up. At first, he saw Brenda, but his gaze soon fell on Y/N and his whole face changed into disbelief.

With the other gardeners forgotten, he started climbing up the hill, and Y/N couldn’t wait another moment so she started walking down the hill.

They met in the middle, with Y/N standing at Newt’s height on the uphill. Neither said anything to begin with, both in disbelief and awe at who stood in front of them. Y/N looked over Newt, noting he still looked pale and somewhat sickly. But the dark veins were gone, as was the black blood and his black eyes. And the sun shone so brightly that his hair looked golden. It was as if he was never infected to begin with.

With a shaky hand, she reached out to rest her hand over his beating heart. ‘You’re alive,’ she whispered, too scared to voice it too loudly in case this was also another nightmare.

But he proved her doubts wrong as he rested his own hand on top of hers. ‘I am,’ he said, and the usual warmth of his voice truly convinced her he was real.

His face pinched suddenly with concern and guilt. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he said, his hand tightening slightly over hers. ‘I hurt you. I almost…’

‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted, using her free hand to cradle is cheek and keep his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t. I am here, too. Looks like we both saved each other.’

To her relief Newt smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. He nuzzled into her hand briefly, before bringing it down with his free hand so he held her hands between them.

‘Before I passed out,’ he started, ‘I remember you saying something.’

‘Oh.’ A blush heated upon her cheeks, but she refused to look away from him. ‘Right. I did say something.’

She was trying to play it cool, but as soon as his deep brown eyes fixed on her, she knew he could see right through her. But he didn’t smile smugly, he didn’t tease. He actually looked scared as his jaw clenched, fighting to find the next words to speak.

‘You said you love me,’ he finally said, words tight but hopeful. ‘Is that true?’

Y/N’s mouth dried up suddenly, constricted by all the things she wished to say but couldn’t say all at once. It’s not like she was scared, she just never thought she would live long enough to have a future, let alone one with love. One with Newt.

But she had – she had survived WCKD’s cruelty, she had survived the terrors of the old world, she had survived when so many of her friends hadn’t. And it was her duty to live her gift of a life to the fullest.

‘Yes,’ she finally said, and it was like breathing in fresh air after being underground for so long. ‘I love you, Newt. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I do. I love you.’

There was a second of hesitation, but then Newt broke out into a wide smile, and Y/N swore she saw tears brim in his eyes. He suddenly reached one hand up to cradle her neck as he pulled Y/N in for a sweet kiss that simultaneously knocked the air out of her and breathed new life into her. He held her neck and hip, and she pressed her hands against his chest, satisfied to feel his heart thundering beneath her hands. The heart that almost never beat again, the heart that had saved her over and over again.

The kiss was short but was no less breath-taking, and when they pulled apart neither could stop the smiles on their faces.

‘I love you, too,’ Newt said. ‘If that wasn’t already obvious.’

Y/N threw her head back in a hearty laugh. She slung her arms around Newt’s neck, a cheeky grin dancing across her lips. ‘I’m not so sure. Maybe we could try that again to make sure?’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. Y/N sighed into the kiss, grasping the baby hairs at the base of his head.

They pulled apart at the sound of their friends whooping and clapping atop the hill. Y/N felt her face erupt with embarrassed heat, to which Newt laughed as she ducked her head into his chest.

‘All right, come on lovebirds!’ Minho called out. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’

As they walked down out of sight, Y/N went to follow but was stopped by a loose grip on her wrist.

‘What is it?’ she asked as she turned back to Newt.

‘I just…’ Newt turned to the gardens below, then to the water, then to the sunset that bathed the whole camp in beautiful hues of orange, pink and purple. When he finally turned back to Y/N, she thought he couldn’t look any more handsome with that pure sunshine smile and sparkle in his eyes. ‘Thanks.’

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘For teaching me how to be brave,’ he answered.

Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. ‘You were always brave, Newt,’ she said. ‘It’s how I learned how to be brave in the first place.’

Newt squeezed her hand in return, then they walked hand in hand back up the hill and down to dinner to where their friend awaited them.

Where the lives they never imagined they’d get a chance to live awaited them.

#maze runner newt x reader #newt x reader #tmr newt x reader #maze runner imagines #maze runner x reader #the maze runner #minho #tmr frypan #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #tmr gally #tmr brenda #tmr jorge #the death cure #the scorch trials #romance #angst #friends to lovers

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everywherea11thetime · 3 months ago

Text

Caddy girl

caddygirl! reader x lando norris

summary: you usually hated being a caddy girl but a certain boy changed that

a/n: reallyyy super short fic that came into my mind like an hour ago. enjoy! xx

☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Being a caddy girl wasn't fun most of the time, 18-year-old trust fund kids thought that they could say whatever they wanted to you and give you the lowest of low tips. But it did have its ups, like the pay or like when a cute guy would come up to you but it usually always ended in him showing no interest in you or secretly being a freak. Today was one of those times, let's just hope it goes well

A man had waved you down mentally rolling your eyes because he just gave off gross rich boy vibes but when he opened his mouth you were surprised to hear a “can I just have a coke and water please” and not “are you offering any other things that aren't on the menu” accompanied with a disgusting smirk and a peak up your skirt. You looked schocked for a bit but then hopped off to get his things. “Okay that will be 9.75” you said with a smile that hadn't crossed your face in a long time, it was a genuine and nice smile. His friend said something that you couldn't hear and the cute boy replied with a look down at his golf cart and and laughed “chat stop” “sorry huh” you asked. He looked up cheeks bright red “oh sorry I'm live streaming and my chat said that you were cute” you let out a knowing “ohhh, well tell them I said thank you” and started to climb back into your cart “its true ya know” you turned around and smiled “oh really” he put his head down while stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodded shyly “yea of course, your gorgeous” “thank you” you felt your cheeks warm up and started to drive away

2 hours later you were still thinking about the cute boy you served but tried pushing the thought away thinking you'd never see him again. Deep in your thoughts suddenly the sound of an engine catches your attention you turn around and see the cute boy from earlier. He walks up to you “Hey so you can totally tell me to go fuck off but could I get your number so maybe we could go on a date or something?” extending his phone out to you. God you never thought you would be excited that a golf boy was hitting on you “yea, of course, I’d love to!” you said as you typed your number into his phone “Thanks by the way I’m Lando” you smile “my names y/n” “cute name to match the cute face.” you laugh shyly as he starts to speak again “so what days do you have off, so we can hang out” “I only work on weekends and fridays, so any other day is good” he nods reassuringly “ok so how about coffee at the cafe like two blocks down on Monday?” you’d seen the coffee place and has been meaning to go get never ended up going through with it “yea actually I’d love that I’ve been meaning to go” “nice I’ve been meaning to go too! I’ll see you Friday, it’s a date” Lando said with a smile then walked away He was the cutest boy you’d ever seen. And from that moment on you knew you were doomed.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #everywherea11thetime

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kiwriteswords · 1 month ago

Note

I am devouring your Hotch and shy!reader fics! Would it be okay to request a blurb/fic about Hotch asking reader to call him Aaron for the first time?

Call out my name when I kiss you so gently [Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: I hope you enjoy! Thanks for sending this in xx!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, hinting to intimate moments, shy reader

It was an unusually quiet evening when Aaron Hotchner decided to break the formality that had subtly lingered between you. Though the hours were dwindling into night, his mind was nowhere near the looming shadows of criminal profiles and cold cases that typically occupied his thoughts. Instead, Aaron was wholly fixated on the woman sitting across from him at his dining table, your shy smile lit by the soft glow of the candle between you both.

The night had already gone a bit backwards, with certain…indulgences happening before dinner, but here you both were, sitting across from on another at his dining room table.

You had met him with that same gentle smile several times outside the tense walls of the BAU, on quiet dates that Aaron had arranged to be as normal as possible—a stark contrast to the grim realities of both of your day jobs. Tonight marked another milestone; just hours ago, you and Aaron had crossed a line that had previously only been hinted at with coy glances and hesitant touches. Now, after experiencing a closeness that neither words nor time could adequately encapsulate, Aaron found himself grappling with a new kind of urgency.

As you laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear—a nervous habit he’d come to recognize and adore—Aaron watched the way the candlelight danced in your eyes--framed by thick lashes that fluttered like the wings of a nervous bird whenever his gaze lingered too long. Despite the warmth of the room, you hugged your arms around yourself, the sleeves of your oversized sweater slipping slightly to reveal the delicate skin beneath.

Aaron cleared his throat, shifting his focus from the flickering candle to your eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice softer than usual, “I’ve been thinking…”

You tilted your head, curiosity painting your features as you met his gaze. “About?”

“About us,” he replied, folding his hands on the table. “And how different this—what we have—is from everything else in my life.”

You nodded, encouraging him to continue, though your fingers fiddled with the edge of your napkin, betraying your nerves.

Aaron took a deep breath, choosing his words with the precision of a man who spent his life weaving through verbal minefields. “When we’re here, like this, it’s not about the job or the cases… It’s about you and me. And when you call me ‘Hotch,’ it feels like we’re still there, back at the office, not here.”

You paused, the napkin now still in your hands. “I didn’t realize… I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“It’s okay,” Aaron interrupted gently with a reassuring smile, reaching across the table to cover your hand with his. “It’s what everyone calls me there, and it makes sense. But here, with you, I’m just Aaron. And I’d like it if you called me that, especially when it’s just us.”

Your cheeks colored, and you looked away briefly before meeting his gaze again. “Aaron,” you tested the name, and his heart skipped at the sound. It wasn’t just the name, but the way you said it—softly, intimately—that marked a departure from the ‘Hotch’ he was to the rest of the world.

He smiled, his usual stoic expression softening in the candlelight. “Thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

There was a warmth in his chest, a lightness that Aaron seldom felt in the confines of his role at the BAU. Hearing his first name from your lips, not as a superior or as an abstract figure of authority, but as someone personal, someone separate from that life, grounded him in a reality he wanted more of.

This was a world where he could be a man, not a unit chief, where he was defined not by his job but by these quieter, cherished moments.

The rest of the evening passed with a new, tender rhythm. Aaron listened intently as you shared stories of your childhood, your voice growing stronger with each memory. He noticed the way your body relaxed, the initial stiffness from your nerves dissolving into a comfortable ease around him. Every laugh, every candid confession, seemed to stitch a tighter bond between you, threading your lives together with each shared secret and smile.

Later, as you stood together in the quiet sanctuary of his living room, Aaron pulled you close, his hands resting on your waist. “I’m glad you’re here…with me,” he whispered, bending his head to catch your gaze. The proximity, the shared breaths, the way your eyes searched his—all of it felt profoundly right.

You smiled, your earlier shyness melting into a quiet confidence. “Me too, Aaron,” you replied, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. It was a simple act, yet it held layers of meaning. Each time you said his name, it reinforced the intimacy they were building, a stark contrast to the formal barriers that usually surrounded him.

In that moment, as the distance of formalities and last names faded into the background, Aaron felt a profound sense of peace. Here, in the quiet intimacy of his home with you, he was just Aaron—and that was more than enough.

He cherished the way his name sounded coming from you, not just as a term of endearment but as a symbol of the unique place he occupied in your life, distinct from everyone else’s perceptions.

This Aaron was someone only you knew, and as the night deepened, he realized just how much he had longed for someone to know this part of him.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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apute11as · 1 year ago

Text

Chosen family - Barcelona femeni x teen!reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping a secret for too long and the team start to figure it out and how to help you through it!

Warnings⚠️ Abus3, vi0lence, loss of parents, descriptions of injury, angst, hurt comfort, fluff

Author note: hey guys this is an angsty one, don’t read if you get triggered by any of the themes above! Hope everyone is well, I’ll be posting at lot more soon just getting through exam season right now! But yeah enjoy the story, leave any feedback or requests in the comments 🩷

P.s. My DMs are always open for anything, Woso related or if you just want to talk! Always here for anything xx

~~~~~~~~~~

You tried to push down the worry of your current situation as you got ready for training in your room. You were only 16 years old, due to your mother passing a year ago, you lived with your father in Barcelona.

The team knew about all of this of course, Alexia more than anyone had been especially supportive, knowing how it felt having lost her father when she wasn’t much older than you. She’d become somewhat of a sister to you. Her, alba and Eli becoming the female figures you lacked in your life, always offering advice and help whenever you needed it.

They knew your father wasn’t the most loving and that since your mother’s passing he’d become a cruel depiction of his former self. What they didn’t know was quite how deep that cruelty ran. He had turned to drinking when your mother had died, you regularly came home from training to find him passed out from the alcohol. It had started as pitiful, he’d just cry and you’d hug him and the two of you would comfort each other, but recently his sadness had turned to anger.

He’d always had a temper and was never the nicest but your mother’s warm presence always made his outbursts bearable but now that she was gone he had no one to regulate that anger. At first it started with hurtful words, some aimed at you and some not but in recent times, his anger had turned physical.

The first time he hit you, you’d wanted nothing more than to cry into Alexia’s arms and have her tell you everything was going to be ok. You decided against that, using your better judgment that it would cause a complicated mess that you didn’t want to condemn her to. It had happened twice more since, on Monday he’d shoved you backwards into a wardrobe, causing you to cut your head, something you’d brushed off as tripping and falling which the team seemed to buy. Yesterday he’d grabbed you by the wrists and squeezed until bruises formed, before pushing you into the table where you bashed your ribs.

Now as you observed yourself in the mirror, you could see the dark bruises that had already formed across your stomach and ribs, matching ones adorned your wrists. You pulled your hoodie over your head and slung your bag over your shoulder, wincing slightly as it came back round and hit your side.

Ingrid and Mapi would be here to pick you up soon as they’d starting taking you to training as you’d told them your father picked up earlier shifts at work (also known as day drinking). Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door you leaped from your spot in the kitchen and went to open it. You of course, were met with the faces of Mapi and Ingrid who smiled widely at you.

“Hola pequeña!” beamed Mapi

“Hola Mapi” you sighed. What you weren’t expecting was for her to barge through the door.

“Sorry bebita I just need to fill up my water. Someone decided to take a sharp turn whilst I was having a drink.” She explained, gesturing to Ingrid who looked unimpressed at the blonde’s antics.

“Woah what’s all this?” She questioned at the various, empty beer and rum bottles that littered your kitchen.

“Erm my dad had some people over yesterday that’s all” you offered nervously

“Seems like they had quite a party” she said, getting at the sheer quantity of it with a raised eyebrow.

“Haha yeah I don’t know I wasn’t there” you replied

“Wait where were you then?” asked Ingrid, asserting herself into the conversation

“Well… I was at my friend’s house for a bit, then I came home” you offered, unconvincingly.

“Oh ok then, well grown adults really should be clearing up after themselves, we can swing by after and help you if your dad is at work?” Added Mapi

“NO!” You yelled, alarming the pair of them. “Sorry, no thank you he’ll be home later and said he’d sort it but thanks anyways” you said, attempting to save yourself due to the accidental outburst.

“Sure that’s fine…” Mapi replied, sounding unsure

“Ready to go now?” Questioned Ingrid from her new found position in the hallway

“Yep so ready!” You responded

The drive to training was slightly awkward, so you’d ask for some music in an attempt to diffuse the situation (it had little effect).

——

Upon reaching the ground, you hurried out the car and wandered a little ahead, fully aware of the fact that they strolled behind muttering about your odd behaviour. You made it inside with the couple trailing a few paces behind you and were met with the smiling face of Lucy bronze.

“Hey y/n how are you?” She beamed

“Hey Luce I’m good how are you?” You replied, offering her a smile of your own

“Good good, Keira kept pestering me about being late this morning though” she said with a sigh

“You were still in bed when we were leaving in 30 minutes!” Keira insisted with an eye roll.

You chuckled at the couple’s childlike antics as you walked over to your locker and began stripping off your clothing when you heard a sharp intake of breath next to you.

“What?” You questioned the English defender

“What happened to your ribs?” She asked in a hushed voice

“Mierda, I forgot about them. I erm tripped… and fell… into the bed post” you replied, knowing you had to work on your lying.

“It looks quite painful and it’s all around your front and sides, how can you do that from falling?” Asked Lucy, concern lacing her voice

“I just did ok, leave it please!” You demanded with a huff, pulling your jersey over your head.

Lucy didn’t push further, though she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you.

——

When you finally made it outside you were met with the warm Catalonian sun beaming down on your face. You had a mandatory team talk and then Jonatan, as usual asked you to pair up. Without a second thought, alexia gripped your wrists and dragged you to her to partner up. You winced noticeably at the gesture as her firm grip found its self on the new formed bruises from yesterday.

“Estas bien pequeña (are you ok)” she questioned with a concerned expression

“Si Ale estoy bien (I’m ok)” you assured the older girl.

“What’s this on your wrists?” She inquired with a firm tone. “Did I do this?” she was now increasingly concerned.

“No no you didn’t do it it was already there” you replied hurriedly

“What was it from?” She questioned further

“Erm from… the match? I had a tussle with someone she gripped my wrists too hard” you lied

“You’re lying to me bebita I can see it in your eyes” she scolded “but why are you lying I don’t understand” her brow furrowed

“Alexia! Y/N! Stop gossiping and get over here!” Yelled Mapi in a teasing tone, a tone that only she could get away with using towards Alexia due to their close friendship

“ay dios mío Maria we’re coming” replied Alexia and before she could say anything more you’d disappeared, already jogging over to join the group and no doubt, avoid her further questioning.

——

Training ended and you rushed ahead, desperate to get away asap to avoid questioning from the multiple behaviours that had noticed your odd behaviour or the state of your body.

You reached the changing room out of breath (more so from sprinting over there than the actual 2 hour training session you’d just attended). You quickly shoved your stuff into your bag and began to scramble away before your upper arm was grasped.

“Where do you think you’re going” rung the voice of Lucy Bronze

“Home?” You replied as if it were obvious

“I thought Alexia was taking you home?” She questioned

“Oh erm yeah tell her it’s ok I’m gonna take a bus” you offered hoping she’d leave you alone

“Alexia come here” beckoned Lucy, her body shielding you from the exit, as you groaned at the implications of this conversation.

“Que pasa?” Questioned alexia with curiosity

“Y/N says she’s getting the bus home” grasped Lucy

“No she’s coming with me? I’m taking her home” she was confused.

“I think the two of you need to have a chat” suggested the brunette

“Yes I think so too” Alexia responded, her disapproval clear in her voice.

The two of you wandered to her car silently, she kept glancing over at you, almost to check you hadn’t disappeared again. She even opened the car door and watched you get in to ensure your presence.

The drive started in silence yet again, with you picking at the skin on your fingernails, but that was short lived.

“Bebita please answer me truthfully when I ask you this…” Alexia began, her eyes not leaving the road ahead. “What happened to your wrists and ribs? Yes Lucy told me about that before you change the subject again” she finished

“I don’t know what to say Ale” you said, your eyes beginning to gloss over.

“The truth Por favor amor” she insisted, her eyes still not looking at yours.

“My papa, he’s taken up drinking lately, quite heavily and it’s changed him” you started

Alexia knew where this was going but she let you finish, unsure of what to say even when you did.

“He-he gets angry now all the time. He used to be an angry person anyways but Mama always used to calm him down and now she’s gone I just-“ you choked back on tears.

Alexia had pulled the car over and took your hand it hers, squeezing gently as if willing you to continue.

“He would shout at me, come home drunk and just scream” you continued. “It wasn’t physical for a while it was just words, b-but recently…” you trailed off once more, finally meeting Alexia’s eyes that were glossed over and full of sadness. “Recently he started to do other things. He hit me and threw me into things, like in something to take his anger out on” Alexia’s grip lay firmer on your hand as she let you finish. “It’s like he’s a different person lo siento” you spluttered as the tears streamed down your face

“Bebita you have nothing! And I mean nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry that we didn’t notice sooner” she replied with a maternal warmth in voice.

“It’s ok Ale I was trying to hide it” you added, calming down a little.

“But why pequeña? We could’ve helped you” tears were threatening to fall from her eyes now.

“But all that would happen is I’d end up in care or on my own and I can’t do that Ale, anyone is better than no one at all” you urged.

“You would have had me! You do have me!” She corrected.

“I know Alexia and I love you so much for that but I couldn’t live with you, interrupt your life, how would you girlfriend feel?” You questioned the blonde.

“She would understand bebita you know that really” insisted Alexia.

“What am I going to do” you cried

“Is he home?” She asked

“Who?” You rebounded

“Your papa” Alexia winced at the name that in her opinion, that man was no longer worthy of.

“No he’ll be at the bar for at least a few more hours”

“Bueno, we’re going to go back to your apartment and gather some stuff and then we’re going to drive to my Mami’s okay?”

“Okay” you weren’t overly convinced yet you still went along with the older girl’s plan, praying your father hadn’t decided to make an early departure from the bar.

——

Upon reaching your apartment block, you gave Alexia your keys as she insisted she would go first, keeping a protective arm on your body behind hers. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised your father was still out.

Alexia’s eyes scanned the floor, taking in the broken glass and general mess everywhere, the two of you tread carefully over to your room. The first thing Alexia noticed upon entering was the sheer contrast of your bedroom, to the rest of the house. It was near spotless, with most of your belongings having seemingly vanished.

“I put most of it under my bed or in the wardrobe” you proclaimed, as if you’d just read her mind. “I didn’t want to give him any extra ammo” you half joked, but Alexia didn’t laugh, instead she pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that said more than words ever could.

You pulled away eventually, realising that you were going to have to start doing some packing as every minute that ticked by was time closer to your father coming home. You started by gathering up your football gear, as it was likely your most important possessions, asides from your memory box that you’d made up when your mother had passed. Standing there for a second, you ran your hands over the cold metal of the lid, reminiscing on a time when your family was “perfect” and things were much happier.

Alexia on the other side of your room, was gathering up some clothes for you. On another day, you’d cringe at the fact that your captain was rummaging through your underwear drawer, but today was not that day.

“Almost done bebé?” questioned the midfielder

“So just gathering some last bits” you assured her, before piling a couple of textbooks, your water bottle and your laptop into your bag.

Just as the two of you made your way out of the bedroom, your mind clicked.

“Wait!” you urged

Alexia turned around at rapid speed, a mix of confusion and concern overtaking her. But before she could question you, you reappeared at the door holding a stuffed bear.

“Sorry it’s childish, it’s just something my Abuela gave me when I was younger”

“No no not childish at all, it’s sweet actually” she smiled. “Don’t tell anyone but I’ve still got my childhood teddy bear at the back of my wardrobe” she admitted

“Really?”

“Sí, now vamos cariño” she insisted

——

You loaded your stuff into Alexia’s cupra before walking around to open the passenger seat door, Alexia following suit.

“I’ve text Mami telling her what’s happened and she said you’re more than welcome to stay at hers” offered the captain “if you’d rather stay with me that’s perfectly fine, I have a spare room, you’ll have to share with the Nala though” she chuckled.

“Thank you Alexia, I’m honestly happy either way I’m just so grateful you’ve been so kind” you replied genuinely.

“Don’t thank me chica te amo mucho ok? If you ever need anything or anyone I’m here, remember that.”

“Gracias Ale”

——

The journey to Eli’s was short and once you’d arrived, Alexia made quick work of unloading your minimal bags and carrying them all herself, despite your protests.

She did however hand one to you when the two of you reached the door, just so that she had a spare hand to knock with, which she did.

The door opened and you were surprisingly greeted with the face of Alba, Alexia’s younger sister.

“Hola chica, it’s been a while” she hugged you, albeit lighter than normal (the first indicator that her mother had told her everything).

“I saw you last week Albs” you smiled

“Oh yes… well it’s been a while anyways” she laughed awkwardly

“Hola mija” came Eli’s voice from behind

“Hola Mrs putellas, thank you so much for offering me a room” you smiled and hugged her back.

“I’ve told you call me Eli, and it’s no problem at all. I hope you don’t mind but Alexia told us what happened, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you’re basically my daughter already”

She wasn’t wrong, even before your father’s drinking problem, you were here at least once a week for dinner (Alexia and Alba insisting you were their mother’s favourite child, to which she didn’t disagree with).

“Gracias Eli” you smiled at her

——

The four of you sat and ate dinner and discussed what was to happen, ultimately deciding you’d stay with Alexia for a little while as her apartment was closer to the training grounds and it would be easier for her to take you with her everyday. Then it was decided that Eli would file for your adoption, something you knew your father would agree to as just he wasn’t himself anymore. You’d set him up in rehabilitation for his alcoholism and see to it that he gets better.

Despite Alexia’s disapproval, you’d decided not to file a statement and testify against your father, stating that it would cause unnecessary issues and that you’d be far away from him anyways. Eventually, all was agreed and you and Alexia returned home to inform Olga of the plans, which to your slight surprise, she was completely okay with.

Alexia decided that the two of you wouldn’t attend training this week, you had no match anyways due to it being Christmas break so the two of you spent some time together. This helped not only you, but her more than you’d ever know. Ultimately, you decided that you’d tell the team what happened after the break, deciding now to enjoy the holidays with your knew found family.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #I need Christmas asap

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thebestofoneshots · 10 months ago

Text

Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.

I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!

I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.

Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils

Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day.

Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come.

Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought.

When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.

He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about.

“Yeah,” you said shily.

“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.”

You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.

The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side.

Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning.

Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team.

Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.

They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex.

“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in.

You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free.

When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.

“I wanted to,” you said simply.

Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter.

You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?”

“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you.

Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper.

“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile.

“But do you want to?”

He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?”

Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return.

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”

“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.”

You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”

Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”

“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”

“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.”

You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school.

“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.”

Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“

“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?”

Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook.

“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.”

“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone.

“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.”

“Why did he think that?” You asked.

“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”

Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.”

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.”

You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?”

“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.”

“Renault? Is he french?”

“No, I don’t– he is not.”

“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?”

“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.”

“As if Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.

“Dragons? Those are dangerous!”

“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.”

“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew.

“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?”

“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out.

“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.”

“The what?” Sirius asked, confused.

“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?”

“Is it a book?” he asked.

“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.”

“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate.

“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”

“Sirius,” Remus warned again.

“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively.

After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story.

“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?”

“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.”

“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?”

“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.”

“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said.

You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…”

“Because you don’t want to?”

“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?”

You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear.

“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you.

“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered.

You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie.

After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’

Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books.

So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer.

You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot.

Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day.

But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant.

You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t.

You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself.

You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time.

He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French.

“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?”

He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.”

“You should go back.”

“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!”

A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?”

“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.”

You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“

“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked.

You turned to him in shock, “You– you…”

“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?”

You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes.

He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both.

It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.

You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back.

“So, about tonight?”

“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment.

Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?”

“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“

“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.”

“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.

“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“

“No cakes.”

“But you like cakes!”

“Not on my birthday.”

“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.”

“Where?” you asked.

“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock.

“Sirius!” you admonished.

“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.

You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.”

“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.”

He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either.

“There you go.”

“It’s sticky now,” you teased.

“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours.

You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home.

“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human.

You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?”

He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones.

You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative.

After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.

You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike.

“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.

“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.

By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.

You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.

“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.

“Okay,” you said, “got milk?”

Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.”

“What? I thought he was working on his project.”

“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.”

“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief.

“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him.

As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up.

“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.

You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.

“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you.

James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after.

“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh.

“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer.

“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two.

“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.”

You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available.

You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her.

Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars.

“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon.

“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.

“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added.

“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Open the frog,” Remus prompted.

You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive.

“What– did James give me an actual frog?”

“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand.

You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?”

“It’s magic,” Sirius said.

You frowned at him.

“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?”

“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.”

“Well, It’s sort of real.”

“What?”

Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?”

Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick.

Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.

“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?”

Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.

Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.”

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends.

A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.

Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3

500 notes · View notes

therealcocoshady · 7 months ago

Note

Ahhhh!! I love your stuff, you're so talented !!!

Could you write a Marshall x bookworm!female!reader oneshot abt reader always just having her head in books and Marshall wanting some attention please??

Thank youuu xx

More than me ?

Eminem X Bookworm!Female!Reader

Author’s Note : Hey ❤️. Thank you so much for your request ! I had some fun writing it ☺️. I hope you enjoy it !

No one expected a bookworm like you to end up with a rapper. On paper, it didn’t make much sense and yet, everyone around you agreed that Marshall was the perfect match for you. The two of you were somewhat nerdy, introverts who’d rather spend time in your house than go to a party with tons of people. And even if he didn’t read a ton of books, he made up for it by fully supporting your passion for literature. When you moved into his house, he let you transform one of the guest rooms into a library and he often surprised you with books on your wishlist. On special occasions, he would go the extra mile and gift you beautiful editions, sometimes first ones, much to your delight. And even though he politely refused your many offers to let him borrow some books, he was always happy to let you talk his ear off about books you liked.

- You should really read it, you said excitedly.

- Yeah but if I read it, there would be no point in you telling me about it, he said with a grin. I’d miss the best part.

- Sorry, you giggled. Is that too much ?

- Never, he said before pressing a kiss to your temple. I love that you’re passionate. I like listening to you. It’s like a podcast.

- You know, Shelly at the library keeps telling me to start one, you chuckled.

- Maybe you should give it a try, he replied. No one talks about books like you.

- Maybe I’ll ask Hailie for pointers, you shrugged.

This was the start of a crazy adventure for you. A year later, you were able to quit your job, relying on your podcast and advertisement to make a comfortable living. Advertisers were constantly soliciting you, willing to take advantage of your massive following. You had managed to gather a big community of bookworms such as yourself, who enjoyed hearing about your latest reads. It was your safe space and you simply loved it. Another perk was that publishing houses sent you tons of books for free, hoping you’d talk about them in an episode. Marshall’s house was big but you now had books in every room and always more books you needed to read. Your boyfriend was already used to always seeing you with a book but now, you had more time to read and were doing this full time. It wasn’t always sunshine and candy, though and, sometimes, you were on a schedule to finish reviewing a book before recording your next episode. At some point, you had decided to review a whole series that had been sent to you a week ago, and reading those eight books definitely took most of your time.

- Are you coming to bed ? Marshall asked.

- I have to read a couple more chapters, you said apologetically. Sorry, my love.

- You’ve spent the whole day reading, babe, he pointed out. How about you rest your eyes a little ? I could make them roll back into your skull…

- Are you propositioning me ? You asked with a grin.

- Absolutely, he replied with a smile. What do you think ?

- That’s tempting, you admitted.

Before you had even finished your sentence, he was grabbing your book, placing your bookmark, closing it and taking you to the bedroom. As soon as you reached the bed, he pinned you to the mattress and whispered in your ear.

- Been waiting for this all day, he said.

- All day ? You giggled. You were at work…

- And yet, you were the only thing on my mind, he grinned. Couldn’t think of anything else.

He made sure to show you exactly what had been on his mind, ravishing you in all sorts of positions, making you cry from pleasure, until you were both panting and exhausted.

- I love you, he said as he caught his breath. God, I missed you this week.

- I missed you too, you cooed. You’ve been working so hard, lately.

- So have you, he pointed out.

- I have to keep busy while you’re finishing your album, don’t I ? You giggled.

- Well, you have me to yourself for the next two days, he said. Told the team not to bother me unless someone dies. I’m all yours. And we’re not leaving this room.

- Interesting, you giggled. I have some work, though.

- You can read chapters in between rounds, he shrugged before burying his head in your neck.

You smiled and enjoyed his touch, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You ran your hands in his back and stroked his head. Moments later, he was asleep. His soft snores brought a smile to your face and you figured he needed the rest. Lately, he had been waking up extra early and coming home later than usual, occasionally going to California to work with Dre. You gently made him roll to his side of the bed and wrapped yourself in your silk robe before going back to your reading room and resuming your reading. Hours later, a grumpy boyfriend came to get you.

- You left, he groaned sleepily.

- You were sleeping, you said with a smile.

- Well, not anymore, he said. Come back ?

- I just have to finish this-

- Later, woman, he groaned.

- Ten minutes, you pleaded.

- Babe, he sighed. It’s 11PM.

- Yeah but-

- I need you, he said with puppy eyes. You don’t want me to get all lonely in bed, now, do you ?

You smiled at him, yet made a point of shaking your head in disapproval. He knew full well his lost puppy act would get him anywhere with you. You closed your book and went back to the bedroom. As soon as you got back in bed, he wrapped you in his arms, in a possessive stance. You chuckled and whispered sweet nothings before drifting off to sleep.

You woke up the next day to the sound of Marshall entering the room with a breakfast tray in his hands.

- Breakfast in bed ? You yawned with a smile. What’s the occasion.

- I thought we might enjoy a lazy day in bed, he said with a smile. You, me, food and movies ?

- Sounds good, you nodded.

He settled in bed next to you and you ate the copious amount of food he had prepared. You spent a few hours in each other’s arms, watching movies and cuddling. Marshall seemed exceptionally clingy, which made you smile. Physical touch had always been one of his love languages, but it was rare for him to spend hours on end cuddling. After a while, though, you decided to get back to reading. However, you didn’t find your book where you had left it.

- Babe, have you seen the book I had yesterday ? You asked. It’s blue, with flowers on the cover.

- I haven’t, he shrugged. Come here, you’ll find it later.

- I really have to finish, you said. I’ll go and search…

- Babe, he groaned, can’t we just have a few hours together ? I’ll help you search for it. Later.

- Ok, you shrugged. But it’s important.

He sighed and gestured for you to come back in his arms. He didn’t pay a lot of attention to the movie, though, and just enjoyed your presence until he fell asleep. Or so you thought. Because as soon as you moved, he let out a grunt.

- What ? He asked.

- Just going to search for my-, you began.

- Screw it, he groaned. Here’s your damn book.

He reached for his nightstand and handed it to you. You looked at him in disbelief.

- You realized I’ve searched for it for half an hour ? You asked.

- Yeah well here it it, he groaned.

- Why did you take it ?

- Because I want you to be with me, he sighed. It’s all about your books, these days.

- I’m working, you said defensively. It’s my passion !

- Yeah well why don’t you move into your reading room then ? He suggested. You like these books more than me anyway.

You sighed and then put the book down before taking his hand.

- What’s with you today ? You asked.

- Nothing, he shrugged with a frown.

- Marsh, you said tentatively. You’re short-tempered and clingy. Clearly, something’s wrong.

- I miss you, he sighed. That’s all.

- I’m right here, you pointed out. I even work from home. I’m literally always here.

- I like that you’re having fun but… you work too much, he said.

- I do work a lot, but it’s because I want to be successful, you said. And you’re one to talk. You’re a literal workaholic.

- Yeah well I’m tired of all this work and I want to hug my girl, he said. I’m stressed out and I need you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek before putting your book away.

- You know you could just have told me you needed me, right ?

- I guess, he said grumpily. I guess I didn’t want to sound like a total simp.

- I like it, you said. It’s cute.

- So you’re staying, this time ? He asked.

- Of course, babe, you replied. If you need me, that’s my priority. But… is there something wrong ?

- Nothing, he said. I guess I’m just under pressure. I just need you. You’re my safe space. I miss you, lately. And now that you have this shit ton of followers, you don’t even tell me about your books. I miss that too.

You nodded and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

- I’m sorry, my love, you said. I just got really into all of it. But you’re my priority, you know ?

- Am I ? He asked.

- Of course, you replied.

- I love you, he said. Sorry I stole your book.

- Next time you try that, I’m messing up with your cassette wall, you threatened.

- You wouldn’t ! He gasped.

- Try me, you said with a raised eyebrow. Who knows ? Maybe all of them are in the wrong case. Maybe I’ve already done it.

He looked at you nervously and you gave him a threatening smirk. Knowing how much he cherished that cassette collection it was enough of a threat and a sure fire way to mess with his head. He groaned and got up.

- Where are you going ? You asked.

- To check my cassettes, he said.

- What ? You asked in a falsely offended voice. If you go, it means you love them more than me !

- Babe… of course I love them more, he said with a grin. Know your place, woman !

Note : I hope you enjoyed this one shot ❤️. If you did, you can support my writing via Ko-Fi ! I will also be giving previews of upcoming parts of Recovery and Love Game over there 😏.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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holllandtrash · 1 year ago

Text

the man | lando norris (6 to 1) smau

part of the lover x 6 to 1 series | lando norris x leclerc! reader

and I'm so sick of them coming at me again 'cause if I was a man then I'd be the man

takes place a year after the original story of 6 to 1 i know this one wasn't voted for but it's been sitting in my drafts and i haven't posted in over a month so enjoy

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, lissiemackintosh and 28,922 others

ynleclerc happy monday drink your greens

view all 813 comments

landonorris no thank u

ynleclerc hmm i seem to recall you asking me for the recipe ten minutes ago

yellowmclarens love her but why does she feel the need to post body shots like this

yvonneatthetrack full length shirts exist babe xx

lovely_sainz this is quite literally just an excuse to post pics of herself in a crop top lol

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, joris__trouche and 1,083,223 others

charles_leclerc gym day

view all 2,6022 comments

danielricciardo taking lessons from george?

f1emily yeeeeesh thirst trap coming in hottt

sundayscariess its illegal for a man to look this good

ferrari.florals ok 🥵🥵 more of this pls

ynleclerc added to their story

wag.spotting

liked by paddockclubs, norrisupdates and 16,302 others

wag.spotting collection of pics of y/n posted by her friends these last few days

view all 1,036 comments

whatisferrari looking a little too close for comfort with that guy in the first pic

ricciardobaby i KNOW thats not lando laying on her legs in that second pic

golden_norris it's not carlos either...why does she hang out with so many guys lol 81piastries come get your girl landonorris

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, mlnmarta and 43,881 others

tagged: ysl

ynleclerc devils in the details ♡ thank you ysl

view all 1,600 comments

landonorris paris or london

ynleclerc montreal, im hanging out with lance - he's moved back up my ranking lancestroll oui landonorris 🤔🤔🤔

happyhamilton sorry am i reading the comments right...shes with lance?

karlaformulauno yeah...what...

paddock.updates

liked by wag.updates, landolovers and 8,400 others

tagged: ynleclerc, landonorris

paddock.updates Y/N Leclerc and Lando Norris are no more after Y/N Leclerc has confirmed to be in Montreal with fellow F1 Driver, Lance Stroll

view all 794 comments

papayaclub LOL bro not her jumping from lando to carlos to LANCE

wag.updates did not have this on our f1 bingo card

sunshinemick silly szn i guess but i can't say im surprised..

ynleclerc damn news travels fast 💀💀💀

landonorris ohh thats why you're not answering my calls yellowmercedes i can't tell if shes joking but honestly lando deserves better sundayscaries shes got the worst sense of humour if this really is fake, for landos sake i hope they actually are over

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 61,029 others

ynleclerc weekly recap

view all 2,704 comments

landonorris did you crop out my face in all of these on purpose

ynleclerc its called a soft launch landonorris you can't soft launch after hard launching FOR A YEAR ynleclerc watch me

leclercsrearwing bestie even i know that lando hates fish and im not his girlfriend

ynleclerc i didn't force the sushi down his throat 🫶🏻 liked by landonorris

landonorris added to their story

landonorris

liked by ynleclerc, mclaren and 487,220 others

tagged: tumitravel

landonorris Rollin’ with tumitravel paid parternship

view all 1,683 comments

ynleclerc im gonna borrow that suitcase

landonorris get your own

boxbox if driving doesn't work out he could be an influencer

albonoscats would do anything to see more of lando in his influencer era

haasbeen whatever he's selling i'll buy it

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 76,205 others

tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc

ynleclerc emptying the camera roll 📸 not ready for summer to end

view all 823 comments

charles_leclerc Pourquoi publier cela? why did you post that?

ynleclerc désolée 🤭🤭 sorry

jemmaf1 is that CARLOS in that first pic having dinner with her and her friends

ynleclerc carlos hosted the dinner montrealking18 WHY DO YOU KEEP HANGING OUT WITH CARLOS gokartboys asking the important questions ^^

fmkf1grid yes we get it you're close with all the drivers thank you for the reminder

pastriesoscar this photo dump is so pretentious lmao its just look all the drivers in my life and also look how pretty i am

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynleclerc and 410,495 others

tagged: carlossainz55, ynleclerc and danielricciardo

landonorris also emptying the camera roll, good idea ynleclerc

view all 2,106 comments

ynleclerc love you

danielricciardo who are those beauties in the last picture

liked by landonorris

givemef1 not lando posting the same pics as y/n 💀

schummyys he really said 'i was at carlos' dinner party too don't worrry'

hornersux wait but that pic of y/n in the window is actually so pretty

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, mclaren and 580,239 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landonorris to the love of my life, you never cease to amaze me. from the way you switch languages mid conversation with me to the way you are always curled up on the couch waiting for me to walk in the door. you are my biggest supporter, my strongest motivator and the reason my days seem brighter. i don't know how i lucked out with you little leclerc, but i promise to love you for the rest of our days

view all 4,232 comments

danielricciardo are you proposing to y/n over instagram?

pierregasly seems like it landonorris just keep scrolling

ynleclerc currently crying on the couch as i wait for you to come home liked by landonorris

summeriturnedf1 he calls her LITTLE LECLERC

happymclarens okay he LOVES her loves her

allgasnobrakes wonder how charles is doing reading this and knowing that lando is planning on marrying his sister

formulaferraris forget charles...lando is the biggest simp in the world for y/n, lets talk about that

a happy ending was deserved

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash #6 to 1 series #6 to 1

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w2soneshots · 8 months ago

Text

Cramps -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: none.

summary: Harry takes care of you while you’re on your period.

notes: hi babes! Here’s the request. Who doesn’t love some good old fluff?🫶🏼 I hope you enjoy!!😚💞

I woke up to the feeling of wet between my thighs. My eyes widened as I became fully conscious. I sat up abruptly then pulled the duvet back. "Oh no." I whispered to myself. I heard shuffling next to me. "You okay love?" Harry asked sleepily, placing his hand on my back and rubbing soft circles. "I uh- I'm really sorry- I-" he sat up, his eyes quickly meeting the blood stained sheets. I was nervous and wasn't sure how he was going to react. We only started dating last month and this was the third time I'd stayed at his apartment.

"Oh. Don't worry about it. Go take a shower. I'll clean it up." He smiled lightly at me. I instantly calmed. "Are you sure? You don't have to-" he stopped me, "I'm sure. I've got it." I nodded, slowly getting up from the bed and rushing to the bathroom. I stood in the warm water for a little while before there was a light knock at the door. "I ran to the shop across the road to get you some stuff! I'll leave the bag outside the door!" Harry called from the other side. "Have I really been standing here that long?" I thought. I finished up then got out.

After wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door to see Harry changing the bed sheets. I smiled at his back then picked up the bag along with the clothes he had left on top of it. The bag contained some different sanitary products. Thankfully I had brought a spare pair of underwear and some socks so I got changed into them, along with some of Harry's sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Once I was cleaned up and comfortable I left the bathroom.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked as I stepped towards him. "Yeah. Thank you Haz," I sat next to him on the now freshly made bed. "I'm sorry about your sheets, I'll buy you some more." He turned to me. "No. You don't have to. They were years old anyway, probably should've chucked them out ages ago." He reassured me. I nodded but I would still be buying him some new sheets, since he was being so sweet.

The next day the cramps hit me. I woke up to the most excruciating pain. I left Harry's apartment late last night and so I was now in my own bed. I took some painkillers and tried to relax. "Hey. How are you feeling?xx" Harry asked me through text. "Not great x" I replied. He didn't respond so I assumed something came up, until there was a knock on my door. I slid out of my bed to answer it.

To my surprise Harry stood in front of me, holding a bouquet of roses and a paper bag. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, tilting my head to the side. "You said you didn't feel well so I thought I'd come round to cheer you up. Sorry I should've called first-" "no no, I'm really glad you're here! Come in." I stepped aside. He smiled wildly at me as he walked into my apartment. I took the flowers from him and thanked him with a peck to the lips. "These are my favs." "I know." He looked at me lovingly as I sniffed the roses.

We sat down on the couch and I snuggled into him. Silence filled the room as I slowly breathed in and out. His hand rested on my stomach and I let out a soft, content sigh as he eased the pain slightly. I've definitely found the one.

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lavender-storm · 1 year ago

Text

You are here now

summary | Theo breaks down and confesses why he's been so distant lately.

pairing | Theo Nott x fem!reader, she/her pronouns

warning | mentions of abuse, su1c1de, sad Theo, probably grammar mistakes

word count | ~2k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so if you found grammar mistakes, no you didn't. I also haven't written anything in a while, so i hope this isn't too bad. Let me know what you think! Xx

His legs are weak, and he can barely breathe when he finally sees her walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Y/N," his voice booms off the walls, scaring everyone around them. She stops but doesn't turn around, not needing to see who it is. She could recognise that voice anywhere. "Can we talk?" he says, a bit more quietly now. But she doesn't move, unsure what to do as Theo approaches her slowly. "Please?"

She takes a deep breath and simply starts walking towards a more secluded area. Theodore is breathless, his face is flushed and his whole body trembles. He's thinking of what to say, how to put his feelings into words as they sit down on the stairs, far away from curious eyes. Neither of them speak as he tries to slow down his vigorous heart. But words don't come easy to him as anxiety takes over his body.

The silence between them is too loud.

"How you been?"

"Good," Y/N answers, avoiding his gaze."You?"

"Eh. Could be better."

Another long silence, as Theo tries to collect himself.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" she asks, voice stern and cold. How did they end up like this? She used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. He misses it. Every day and night, it's all he can think about. How she laughed at his jokes, how she found comfort in his arms. How it all turned around as a fight followed a fight, with yelling and tears. The last time they talked, Y/N told him how disappointed she was, that he became one of those Slytherins. His heart shattered as soon as the words left her lips. He understood why of course. But it was him against his father, and he needed to change. It was for the better.

He should have said something a long long time ago. He shouldn't have waited. But he's scared, and his life is a mess and he just wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He's breaking under the weight, he's all alone and he can't find a way out.

"No, no. I, uhm," Theo's nervous, and Y/N can tell. It's rare he's like this and a heavy weight settles in her chest. He's usually collected, and outspoken, he never had any trouble talking. She wants to comfort him and let him know he can talk about anything, so she hesitantly lays a hand on his forearm. Even after all those arguments and crying and not talking, she cares. Of course, she cares. She is full of love.

Theo takes a shaky breath and tears collect in his eyes. He can't hold it back no matter how much he tries, because he feels so overwhelmed by her. He doesn't even know where to start.

Should he talk about his father? Should he tell her how he treats him? And that he never meant to become like this, but it was inevitable.

He needed her then, and he needs her now, but he fucked up by pushing her and everybody away, and he's scared he can't make it right. Y/N quietly calls his name as she caresses his arm, and a loud sob leaves Theo's lips. Y/N's heart rate picks up, the worry she felt before turned into terror as Theo's body trembles with every sob as she cradles him into her arms, holding his head to her shoulders while raking her fingers through his hair. Her heart breaks for him as he clings to her like his life depends on her.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never meant to do-, I di-didn't know - I'm just s-scared, so fucking scared. I hate him so much and then I did this to you. I miss y-you so bad, I can't even fucking breathe."

"Theo calm down, I can't understand you. Shh, it's okay just take a deep breath with me okay? Yeah, like that, great. You're doing great. One more," she says as she holds his face in her hands. Theo's chest tightens at her kindness. All those things he fucked up. He's a horrible son, a horrible friend, a horrible person. And yet here she is, wiping his tears with such a loving look in her eyes, his soul aches - he doesn't deserve her. "Now tell me again, okay? Slowly. I'm here, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I truly am sorry."

"I don't hate you, Theo-"

"Yeah, sure, than you are mad at me, whatever same thing."

"Theo-"

"I'm sorry okay? For everything. I didn't tell you the-, "he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tears still streaming down his face."I didn't tell you the truth. I lied because I didn't want you to know. But I needed you. I needed you so bad. So I kept it a secret because I was scared. What if you agree with him? What if you see me the way he sees me? So I just avoided you. I know it's stupid, but I was so goddamn terrified."

"Who is he, Theo? What are you talking about?"

"Dad," he whispers and hangs his head, refusing to see her reaction.

"What is he saying, Theo?"

"It's all my fault," he murmurs. Y/N's brows are furrowed in confusion, what is he talking about? What is his fault?

"No, Theo, no. I'm sure that's not true but what is-"

"But it is, Y/N! He is right. My mother always had to take care of me and my problems, that's why she- and now he hates me! I'm a burden and I made their lives miserable."

"That is not true Theodore, listen to me. Don't think that. And I'm sure they could never hate you. You probably misunderstood, I know your parents love you-"

"You don't hit someone you love! I would never hit you! Never. Not even Blaise or, or Draco, or the others, never. " Y/N's whole body freezes, her mind's rummaging through her memories. Oh Merlin. How could she miss this? How could she not realize that…

Y/N is angry. Angry that Theo didn't say anything until now. Angry that she couldn't see the obvious. He showed up with a new bruise every few weeks, and rumors of him initiating fights for fun, spread like fire. But no one ever knew who he fought. It always remained a mystery. Because all of it was a lie, and deep down Y/N knew, but that was easier to believe than this. He needed her and she ignored him. The only person she could ever open up to needed her the most, and she just left him.

"Theo, all this time we thought you were fighting other students, you-"

"He says it's the least I deserve. She was always working and always stressed because of me. They had to sacrifice so much. It's all my fault she couldn't take it. And now all of this is on Dad. It's my fault, I did this. I killed her."

It's an unwritten rule in the Nott family, that nobody talks about the death of Theo's mom. As far as others are concerned, she ran away. And so that's what Y/N thought too.

"She killed herself because of me. And he makes sure I'm aware of that. And I'm so scared that he's right."

"He is not right, Theo, look at me. He's not right. He's full of shit. I've never met your mother, but I know, he raised the kindest, smartest, most amazing boy ever. I know she must have been so proud to call you his son." Theo cries louder, his fingers hold onto her tightly. "I'm proud of you Theo. You don't deserve any of this."

Guilt claws at her chest as she takes him in. His eyes are red and puffy now, but a bruise is still visible under his left eye and a deep cut, already healed, splits his eyebrows. His skin is pale and cold, and he's so thin that his uniform hangs on his body like it's three sizes too big.

Months ago, it fit him perfectly.

She was so consumed by her anger and jealousy that Theo chose his new friends over her, that she couldn't even look at him. And she curses herself for being so oblivious and idiotic, because if she looked at him, only just a second longer, she would have seen the truth. Now, sitting on the stairs with only a little light, she can truly see him. And the Theodore that's sitting here is not the same Theodore she left that day.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N. I know I'm horrible but please. Please forgive me," he begs, but Y/N shakes her head. If someone should be apologizing it's her, not him.

"No, don't apologize. I'm- oh, Theo, I'm so sorry. I should have realized it. I should have paid attention, I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry I left you alone. I should have never done that," she says, pulling him into her embrace again. Theo hugs her tightly, basking in her warmth. "And you are wrong. You are not horrible. You are the most amazing person I've ever met, Theo. You were always there for me, always looked out for me. I'm so sorry I didn't do the same."

"You're here now,"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you staying?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere. Not again. I promise." He believes her. He knows none of this is her fault and if she knew, she would've never left. "I love you Theo, so so much. We'll get through this. Together."

And for the first time in months, Theo feels peace wash over his body like waves, and the noise in his head stops. It's silent and calm in his body and soul. Everything's going to be alright. Y/N is here again. They are okay again. He will be alright again.

#theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #harry potter imagine #lavender-storm #slytherin boys

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sleepyhutcherson · 8 months ago

Note

Heyy, can you make a Mike fic where reader has a lot of money and buys things for Mike and Abby and Mike always feels guilty about it? I love your job!!

-💋

get anything you want.

paring: mike schmidt x rich!gn!reader

summary: mike has never tolerated you paying for anything on dates, let alone even buy him anything, so when you show up to his front door insisting to take him and abby to the mall he’s a little reluctant, knowing you’re going to try and spoil him, something he really doesn’t want.

—or, in which: you take your boyfriend and his little sister shopping in attempt to spoil them.

word count: 2.0k

tags: established relationship, use of y/n, fluff, rich!reader (but it’s very briefly mentioned), abby being the sweetest, most adorable girl <3, reassurance — let me know if i’m missing something!

author’s note: hii guys, so i genuinely hate this so much and have so many drafts of this (i have so many versions of this request) because i struggled so much with it :| anyway, i swear i want to get to everyone’s request and i have the time so i hope i can manage! sorry for being really absent on here but i was dealing with some things but im hopefully back!! thank you anon for the request, and im sorry this is so late :( i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! xx

Mike didn’t like going to the mall—especially not on a Saturday. He dreaded the idea of going shopping with you but only because you always insisted on paying for his things. He couldn’t fathom why you would even want to do that for him. Mike was always careful with his money, he didn’t earn much at his shitty job but the money he did earn always went to the house bills, food, and Abby—the more important things. He was aware that you made really good money at your job but he never wanted you to use your money on him.

But of course, Mike had a hard time telling you no so when you suggest going to the mall all he can do is agree, especially once he sees the excitement in Abby’s eyes.

You hold onto Abby’s hand as she walks in between you and Mike, she was talking over all the loud chaos in the mall, and Mike couldn’t help but feel pleased with how happy his little sister seemed at this moment.

He hated how crowded the mall was, how kids were running around, some crying, some laughing obnoxiously loud—it was all just a little too much for Mike, but seeing that look in Abby’s big, brown eyes, he could tolerate it for a bit.

“So you only come for your birthdays?” You ask Abby, bringing Mike back to reality. He adored how good you were with her, it made his heart quicken. You were always so sweet towards Abby, going out of your way to play with her, ask her questions, and even participating in drawing lessons she insisted you needed.

Abby nods. “Yeah, and Mike lets me get ice cream and a toy!” She says with bright eyes. Her birthday was a couple of months ago and being back at the mall filled her with those memories she cherished with her older brother.

It was apparent how grateful she was for that yearly trip to the mall; she never complained about not coming more often. Mike had told her that the mall was a special place so why not come by on a special day? That made sense to the 10-year-old girl and she never argued to come more often.

“How about if you find something you really want, I’ll get it for you.” You suggest. Both siblings turn their attention to you in sync and you can’t help but smile at how alike they can be at times. You come to a halt, causing Mike and Abby to stop as well, you point out to the front of you, “look, Build-A-Bear is just over there, you can take a look inside and if you see something you want I’ll get it for you.”

You can feel Mike’s eyes on you as you speak to his little sister. “Really?!” Abby beamed, eyes so puppy-like they mirrored some you were all too familiar with.

“Of course. Get anything you want.” This excites Abby, you can tell by the way her eyes go wide along with her smile. Her reaction made you smile.

You meet Mike’s gaze now, noticing that stern, guilt-ridden look on his face that you’ve seen on him before—specifically whenever you try to pay for things. “Is that okay?” You ask him then.

His lips are in a thin line. He turns his attention to Abby then, “Abs, why don't you go get one of those bouncy balls from that quarter machine?” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out some extra change.

“Okay, thanks!” She takes the change, skipping over to where a few quarter machines are displayed; some with candy and others with little trinkets. She was still in sight—Mike made sure of that every time.

“You okay?” You ask your boyfriend, sensing you have upset him. You knew it was hard for him to accept any kind of help, especially when it came to you offering to buy anything for him or Abby. He wasn't angry, he just felt bad. He looked at you with those tired brown eyes that you were oh so struck by every time, didn’t matter how many times you’ve looked into them.

“Yeah,” he replies, taking a minute before continuing, not knowing exactly how to word what he wants to say. Maybe because he’s told you before so many times. “I just—I don’t want you wasting your money on us.” He says as gently as he can.

“Mike, it’s not a big deal.” You say. And you mean it. Mike and Abby had become two of the most important people in your lives and you wanted to help them however you could. “I know I should’ve asked you first, but I just wanted her to get her something.”

Mike admired this about you, how you were willing to buy something for Abby even though you didn't have to. But still, he felt shitty about it, it didn’t feel right. Even though you were the one who offered, he felt like he was taking advantage of your money.

You notice the guilt on Mike’s face and immediately move to cup his face, letting your hands rest against the sides of his face, feeling his stubble against your palm. He's a little surprised by this; you see the way his eyes widen a little at your touch and you giggle at how adorable his reaction was.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soothing to his ears. You look up at him, his eyes immediately softening upon seeing the small precious smile on your lips. “Look, I understand if you don't want to but I would love to buy you both something today. You rarely come to the mall so just please let me spoil you both just today?”

Mike’s hands are on your waist now, his thumb softly rubbing at your clothed skin. He knows how stubborn you are and knows that you won’t give up on this—plus, he doesn’t think he has the heart to tell Abby no after you already offered to buy her something. “Fine,” he agrees, but before you can get too excited: “but only Abby.”

He won’t let you pay anything for him. It’s not like anything in the mall ever really caught his eye anyway.

You smile, pecking his lips softly. “Thank you.” You were a little disappointed that he denied you from getting him something but you weren’t giving up that easy; you knew a place in the mall that Mike was an absolute sucker for, where there was a chance he would be tempted to stop at.

Abby returns with a bouncy ball in hand, thrilled with that until you remind her of Build-A-Bear. She yaps on about her collection of stuffed animals she has at home and how thrilled she was about adding another to it the short walk to the store.

Mike is quiet the entire time you and Abby are looking for a plushie for her to pick out—she was debating between a rabbit or an actual bear. You catch Mike looking at the prices with a certain look on his face, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that it was okay. And it really was.

He tried to focus on just how incredibly happy Abby looked right now which was the most important thing. It warmed his heart seeing her so happy, the way her eyes glistened under the lights, how wide they got whenever they landed on another toy. God, did it make Mike smile just seeing her like this. He decided to focus on that, not the guilt that was eating him.

“What did you name it?” Mike asks, holding Abby's hand as the three of you continue walking around the mall.

Abby was clutching onto the brown rabbit she picked out that was dressed in a purple onesie that you let her get. “Baby. Y/n gave me the idea! They said if you move the letters around in my name it spells out ‘Baby’.” She explained with her focus entirely on her new friend.

Mike had never noticed that, he smiled warmly at that, finding it rather sweet. “That’s nice,” he says, his eyes averting to you. He was holding your hand, this time he was in between the two of you. He wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to thank you for this, for everything you do.

For a while, the three of you walk through the mall leisurely. You make a few stops at some stores, making some purchases you had intended to make. Until you finally lead Mike down to where you were so sure he couldn’t resist.

“Should we go home now?” Mike asks, holding some of your shopping bags.

The food court was right by the exit. “You guys want ice cream?” You reply instead. Mike’s eyes light up at the suggestion, his eyebrows raising a little. God, he was so adorable!

“Yes!” Abby answers, with her rabbit—Baby, still being hugged by her.

“Do you want some?” You ask Mike with a menacing smirk on your face, knowing he wouldn’t let down some ice cream.

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether he should spend some of his money on ice cream. He didn’t mind getting some for you and Abby, the real guilt came whenever he got himself something. “Uh…”

“Come on, let's go get some.” You don’t even let him respond, you know him well enough. You drag the two Schmidts towards a small ice cream shop where there was luckily not a line, just a middle-aged woman with her teenage daughter.

You stand behind them, looking up at the menu with the flavours displayed. “What are you getting Abs?” You ask, looking down at her.

“Birthday cake,” she replies. It was her go-to order.

“Me too,” you decide, not having an appetite for the other flavours. “What about you, Mike?” You start taking out your wallet, Mike is distracted as he tries deciding on what to get from the menu.

“Maybe…a peanut butter shake.” He says slowly, still eyeing the other options. “Yeah, I think I’ll just get that.”

You don’t say anything as you’re just about next in line. You order everyone’s orders politely, earning a smile from the girl who is taking your order. She tells you your total and you see Mike reach for his wallet but you win him, handing the girl the cash. “Your order will be out in a moment.” She smiles and you thank her, moving to a side to wait with Abby and Mike.

“I should’ve known you would do that,” Mike mumbled, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. You knew he was trying to come off as angry but you couldn’t help but think how hot his arms looked.

“Oh, come on, Mike,” you whine a little, inching closer to him. He can’t stay mad at you for too long, he never has been able to. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying his best not to smile. Of course, he was filled with how you looked up at him with such adoration. “Can’t I buy my boyfriend a shake?” You say with a teasing tone.

“No,” he replies, looking down at you. “I can pay for my things too, you know?”

“I know,” you did know. You just wanted to treat him sometimes. He deserved him. If you could—if he allowed you to—you would spoil him to the fullest. “But I don’t mind paying for things, especially for things you and Abby need. I really don’t.”

God, he didn’t deserve you. He thought that—he wondered at times how he got so lucky with you. He doesn’t argue it any longer, only because he doesn’t want to right now, not saying that he will just continue letting you pay for things like this but he just doesn’t want to continue with this. He just wants to show you and tell you how much he appreciates you. How much he loves you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “thank you.” such a simple thing, but the genuineness in his voice and the small kiss he plants just below your ear afterwards makes you cherish it.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @st4r-b0ylover @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool

thank you for reading and for all your support <3

#divider by dollywons #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt headcanons #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf

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call-mi-jinx · 2 months ago

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Dave Lizewski - Limerence

summary - when you and dave are paired up for an english project, he asks you a question which makes you squirm

warnings - possible stalking? idk sorry, basic fluff,

Main Masterlist Dave Lizewski Masterlist

a/n - hiya gyals, i have been trying to find more than just 3 decent dave fanfics so i jus decided to write my own, ta ta my lovelies! xx

dave lizewski x fem!reader

Limerence. Noun. Meaning: the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterised by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.

This is the feeling I get when I think of Dave Lizewski. Nobody in school cares about him at all. They don't even look at him. Which I'm glad about because that means I get him all to myself. But he never looks at me. God I just want him to look at me, notice me, speak to me, something. But i get nothing.

It still baffles me how no one has tried to ask him out before. He is absolutely beautiful. In fact, ineffable. His brown curls frame his face amazingly. His blue eyes I could look into all day. And god his voice, it could lull me to sleep effortlessly. And his humour, he makes me silently laugh every time I overhear him say something at lunch to his friends.

My friends think I'm weird for thinking he's attractive. They call him a nerd and a weirdo because he reads comic books at that little cafe every day. But that's because they don't see what I see. And it's because they don't look at him as much as I do.

I have almost every class with him, because I found out which classes he chose and switched to them. And those lessons that I needed to get higher grades for, I studied as hard as I could so that I'd be able to move to Dave's classes. My friends call me a stalker but I just want to be closer to him.

Me and my friends are sitting at our usual table which I chose because it was right behind the table Dave usually sits at. My friends never noticed, not caring about anything other than their lunch and the conversations they're having. I never listen, I just look at Dave's features and try to hear what he's talking about. I see his friend turn around to look at me then says something to Dave.

Dave then leans to the side to look at me and I immediately hide my face with a book and blush so furiously you'd mistake me for a tomato. That was fucking embarrassing, I'd been staring that long his friend pointed it out to him. Fuck.

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I was in AP English, one of the classes I had to get my grades up for. I sat a seat to the left from Dave. I don't know what Ms. Somerset was talking about because all I was doing was doodling and trying to catch glances at Dave, while trying not to be obvious at the same time. But my ears perked up when I heard about a project we'd be doing in pairs. I prayed to God or whoever is up there that I'd be paired with Dave.

"Okay, I'm going to list the people that are going to be in pairs together. First, Holly you're with George. Grace with Vanessa. Zach with Jake. Y/N with Dave..." The teachers voice faded away as soon as I heard. My prayers had been answered. Thank you God!

I turned my head to look at Dave and he was already looking at me, we both smiled at each other then turned back towards the teacher.

"The project is going to be a presentation about the analysis of any piece of literature you want to do. Do it however you want it just needs to be a PowerPoint slideshow. Now everyone go sit with your partner and begin planning your presentations." Everyone got up and joined their partner and Dave came over and sat next to me.

"I never knew you were in AP English Y/N..." He felt a bit embarrassed after admitting that. A blush creeped up onto my face, well that's a bit embarrassing.

"I changed to this class about 5 months ago, I just never talk because none of my friends are in this class." I gave him a shy smile as Ms. Somerset handed us some coloured pens and a piece of paper to make a plan.

"You're in my Chem, Bio and Physics as well now that I think about it. And my History, Computer Science and Design Tech. You're in all my classes and I never noticed you before. Except at lunch or breaks, or when we walk home the same way. Don't you live a couple blocks from me?" Fuck... What if he connects the dots? And if he does what if he thinks I'm a freak?

"I wouldn't know, sorry." I gave him an awkward laugh and looked down to the paper.

"So what piece of literature should we choose? We could do something by Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain?" It shocked me that Dave knew all those writers, mainly because all I've seen or heard about him reading was comic books.

"I say we do Emma by Jane Austen. I've read it a hundred times and I've already analysed it anyway so we just have to put it onto the presentation." Dave agreed and we planned out our presentation for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, I gathered all my things and exited the classroom to go home. When I was a few steps out of the classroom, I heard someone call my name. It was Dave.

"I-I thought you could have my number, so that we can arrange to meet at each other's houses to work on the project. O-or we could work on it at the library. Whatever y-you're comfortable with." My heart could practically explode. Not only was he giving me his number, he was also possibly inviting over to his house!

"Yeah that'd be great." I gave him a bright smile. "We could go back to my house now? So that we can get the project over and done with, I hate having things that aren't finished yet."

"R-right now?" His cheeks flush a light pink. His eyes dart from my eyes to everything else around us.

"Yeah, you don't have to come over if you don't want to I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Fuck, I already feel like I'm screwing it up with him.

"N-no it's fine, I just didn't think you'd want me there. But yeah, let's go now." Inside, I was practically exploding. I have never felt such happiness until now. I fucking love Ms. Somerset!

We began walking out the school when my friends saw me walking with Dave. I saw them whispering and giggling to each other.

"Hey Y/N! What are you doing with him?" I felt anger run through me, why the fuck are they taking the piss out of him?

"We have a project we need to do so he's coming over to my house after school." I fake smiled at them and as soon as I turned away from them I had a disgusted look on my face. "Sorry about them Dave."

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As we came into my house, my dad immediately came into the hall and gave me a hug. He then turned to Dave and sized him up. I could see Dave squirming so I broke the silence.

"Dad, this is Dave. We're doing a project together in English." My dad narrowed his eyes at Dave and then his eyes widened with realisation and went to shake Dave's hand.

"So you're the Dave my princess talks about all the time!" I wanted the ground to swallow me whole and get the hell away from here. I've never wanted to be thrown into space in my whole entire life.

Dave looked at me in confusion and saw my uncomfortable demeanor.

"Right we're going upstairs, love you." I then dragged myself upstairs, Dave following close behind me and I led him to my room.

I sat myself at my desk and watched Dave as he looked around my room. I had vinyl records stuck to the wall along with different posters and tapestries. Fairy lights lined the frame of my bed. I also had a little table with a record player and a shelf specifically for my favourite records.

"Your room is really nice Y/N. I like your posters and lights." I looked around my room, I never actually took notice of it in all honesty.

"Thank you. I decorated it myself, I even designed the layout of my room when my dad helped build this place." Dave looked fascinated. I don't even know why.

"That's so cool, you got to choose how your room was shaped and everything?" It was cute how he was so excited about something as little as room design.

"Yeah, plus my room is the biggest in the house. My dad let me have it cause he said he's barely going to be in his anyways cause he's working all the time. Surprised he's actually home right now." Dave smiled at me and looked around my room before we silently began our project.

I couldn't believe that Dave fucking Lizewski was in my room! I've liked him ever since I first saw him when I moved here in Sophomore year. As he was doing his work, I couldn't help but stare. He was so beautiful. The way his curls fell on his face, the way he slightly stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating on reading something. I was so lost in staring at him I didn't even realise that he was calling my name.

"Y/N!" I shook my head to get myself out of the trance I was in, he caught me fucking staring. Great.

"Yeah?" He smiled as he shook his head at me, not in a misdemeaning way though, in a "I find it kinda cute" way.

"What exactly are we analysing from Emma?" I went to sit down next to him on my bed and read what he was reading.

"I think we should analyse how Jane Austen represents class types within all the characters and how they act towards each other." I then looked to Dave who was already looking at me.

"Your eyes are really pretty..." Why the fuck did I just say that? Out of everything to come out of my mouth that is what I say? Dave's face turns a bright shade of red.

"Th-thank you, I really like your hair..." I had purple streaks in my hair. My dad screamed at me when he saw, but he then found them actually pretty.

"Thank you, when I first dyed it my dad went ballistic. Eventually he warmed up to them." Dave smiled at me, in a way I couldn't decipher.

"Do you like me?... Y/N?" Those words make my heart stop. Fuck. He's realised. He probably found out about me switching classes just to be with him, me staring at him all the time, my friends call it an obsession.

"Where did that come from?" I chuckle, trying to play it off.

"I've heard your friends talk about it, Todd told me today that you were staring at me. So I thought I'd ask you." This was actually quite bold of him, he always just stuck to either being quiet or just talking quietly with Todd and Marty.

"You find me weird don't you?" I leaned away from him, I didn't want him to look at me. Before right now, that was all I had hoped for and now it's the last thing I want.

"No, not at all actually. I find it cute. At first I was worried you wanted to kill me or something but when I saw your face light up when Ms. Somerset paired us up I had a feeling it wasn't because you wanted to kill me." Dave chuckled slightly, he smiled with only one side of his mouth and he looked so cute doing it.

"I thought I could actually hide it, guess I can't. I do like you Dave, and I know you have a crush on Katie so it's fine we can just pretend this never-" Dave cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. At first I was completely shocked but then I kissed him back. Oh my god I'm kissing Dave Lizewski!

I cupped his cheeks and pulled him on top of me and his hand found place on my waist. He didn't kiss me roughly like a couple guys have done before. He was gentle, more caring than lustful.

We both then pulled away and Dave had a big goofy smile, he was adorable.

"I don't like Katie, I mean I used to. But that was until I started seeing you sit next to our table at lunch and see you walk down the hallways with your friends..." A billion fireworks were going off in my head. I have never been happier.

"W-would you wanna go out on a date with me?" Oh my god, he wants to go out on a date with me!

"I would love to." I had a massive grin on my face. My dreams had come true.

#kick ass #dave lizewski #aaron johnson #aaron taylor johnson #atj #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fluff #david lizewski fluff #david lizewski

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digitaldiarystuff · 9 months ago

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Enemies Forever

soo this is something i’ve had in mind since the el clasico and hope you enjoyyy💖 and please comment on it that really helps me a lot xx

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pairing: Jude Bellingham x Y/N

genre: angst

summary: you are a famous actress in Spain and a die hard barca fan. You unfortunately were also in a situationship with the Real superstar Jude Bellingham but try your best to not let it get serious

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It was an intense match, to say the least. You were at the stands watching with so much anticipation you didn’t even realize the crowd filming you. It wasn’t the easiest being recognized everywhere you went but most importantly you didn’t want to steal the spotlight from what mattered the most, FC Barcelona.

You were raised as a fan religiously by your dad all your childhood, every match day was a chaos while all your close family friends and relatives came to your house and there was always a big feast before or after but never during the game. He even wanted to name you after the squad of Barca but luckily your mother intervened and named you something cuter so it was not a surprise to anyone that you were a big supporter. You were filming a series in Madrid as a young and successful actress so the game being held in Madrid was in your advantage for once. You always talked on interviews about your love for the club and went as far as being one of their models for a campaign last year which was a lifelong dream for you. And now, here you were anxiously watching the game against Real Madrid at Bernabeu VIP section with your Lewa shirt on. You decided wearing a youngsters shirt would cause so much more trouble even though you basically had all of them.

The game was head to head and it seemed like there would be room for another goal and it really happened, just not the way you wanted it to be. Bellingham scored right after the 90 minutes mark and everyone started screaming whilst you were devastated. With Fermin’s goal you really had hope for a win and since the season wasn’t going that well everyone needed it but it all came crashing down with a stupid goal from a stupid Madrid player.

Jude Bellingham.

You hated the way he celebrated rallying the fans further, you hated that he provoked everyone and anyone and most of all you hated him for scoring against your team. You and Jude had a complicated relationship, it was actually a few days after the first clasico at a prestigious night club in Madrid that you bumped into each other. You were seething with anger because a few days ago he crushed your hopes, again but he didn’t seem too concerned about your anger. In fact he looked like he enjoyed watching you try to shoot daggers at him and even had the audacity to come up to you late at night while you were completely wasted.

You sometimes wished that the story ended there, he came up to you and tried to flirt but you told him no way and walked away. But it didn’t. In fact, you and Jude had been meeting up pretty frequently over the last months and playing football definitely wasn’t his only talent. At first you told yourself it was all out of hatred, you did it because you were angry at him. In the morning you quickly dressed up and told him your team would be in contact to sign the non disclosure agreement and left in a hurry not even speaking to him properly. It was a shameful act but it was just a one night stand, right? Then came the second time you met, it was at your costar’s house party where only a few people were invited and he had to be one of them. Jude came up to you talking loudly about how your show helps him get better at Spanish and all this bullshit to throw any eavesdroppers off.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked him with furrowed brows “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to leave the house unless I had your approval. I also didn’t know we were getting that serious.” he winked and smiled but all you could feel was panic and frustration.

“No, it’s not what I- We’re nothing. No in fact we aren’t nothing, we’re rivals and we despise each other.” you stated pointing your finger at him but he just watched your poor attempt of scolding him with a boyish grin on his face.

That’s how you ended up sleeping with him the second time and the next morning tried your best to escape without him waking up but he beat you to it.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled in a deep voice as you were walking out on him.

“I have a scene to shoot this afternoon.” you lied without looking at his face.

“It’s only 7” he answered back as he reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“I know.” you said still refusing to turn back but soon heard shuffling and felt his arms reach around you and pull you in a hug. You stiffened in his touch, not sure what to expect.

“Why are you trying so hard to hate me?” he leaned his head on your shoulder trying to get a look at you but you turned your head slightly.

You were caught off guard by his question.

“I’m not trying.” you confidently answered using your acting skills. “I just do”

He sighed loudly and freed you.

“So let me get this straight, this, this whole thing we did last night, it’s all out of hate? I hope all the Barca fans who hate me won’t request the same treatment.” he joked you and you felt your anger return immediately at the mention of your team.

“Yes, I hate you. I hate you and your club. This, us sleeping together a couple of times changes nothing in my eyes. It was just a drunken mistake.” you tried defending yourself but knew your excuse was weak since you didn’t even drink much last night in hopes that would prevent you from getting in his bed, which was proven not to be the case.

“Oh, c’mon Y/N you know this isn’t just being drunk and wanting to fuck anything that moves.”

“But it is.”

“But it’s not and you know it. Yes, that would explain the first time but the second one, that’s on you. Look I seriously can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t believe it when you say you don’t want anything with me.”

“You practically begged me.” you raised your voice being in disbelief about how he was trying to pin this on you and also deliberately ignoring his last statement but unfortunately, your heart rate was pretty damn affected by it.

“Yeah, I did because I’m not a coward who’s afraid of what people might think of me and there’s obviously something between us Last night you had every right to stop me but you didn’t. So stop with this bullshit.” he said also in a raised voice. You were too stunned to make a comeback so gathered all your belongings and left his place. He was an annoying guy, sure but what got to you the most was the fact that he was right. You had every chance to tell him to stop or leave you alone but there was something linking you to him. You felt it too but was pretty embarrassed by it. Jude tried calling out to you but you didn’t stop afraid of what might happen and walked to your car leaving his place.

After that it was calm for a while but with Jude, this is never a good sign.

Your inner voice was right and there he was, standing at your door at 2 am. He looked out of it, his eyes were hooded, his phone screen was cracked and he smelled like a luxurious liquor store.

“Jude, how did you-

“I asked Ines.” he explained before you finished your question which was a good sign, his brain still half worked.

“Why would she give you my home address this is so irresponsible, what if you were planning on killing me?” you panicked at your friend’s poor judgment but Jude found it amusing. He bit his lip in order to stop himself from giggling.

“What are you laughing at? Are you here to kill me?” you raised a brow being more annoyed at him now.

“I’m here to talk.” he immediately looked more serious but it only made you sweat.

“Talk about…” you trailed off hoping he’d finish the sentence for you.

“The global warming and its effects on the society.” he looked at you like you were dumb for even asking. “I’m here to talk about us.” he said when you flipped him off.

“Jude, there’s no us and you know it.”

“But I don’t know it Y/N, I really don’t because you try so hard to act like you don’t feel anything but I see it every time we’re together. The you hating me and being disgusted by me is all part of the act and I know it because whenever we touch it’s electricity.” he tried pleading with you but you were adamant about this being nothing important. You were just mortal enemies having hate sex.

“Jude, I think you’re just reading too much into it.” you finally said and saw his shoulders drop immediately. You knew you were lying, you felt it as much as he did, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

“S okay, I’m sorry to bother you.” he turned on his heels and started making his way down the stairs of your house but all you felt was panic. You tried your best to stay strong and not let these weird feelings get in the way of your brain but they did and you called out to him. He turned back when you asked if he wanted some water but both of you knew this had nothing to do with any beverage.

He came in that night and you started to talk, for the first time without you taking jabs at him for anything he said or him making stupid jokes. You expected the talk to be awkward and have stretched out silences but to your absolute surprise it happened so effortlessly.

You talked about your upbringings and families, jobs (yes you still gave him a hard time about being a Real Madrid player) and anything and everything. It felt so good to open up to someone about some of the things you found hard and he did the same. In fact, the night went so good that you asked him to join you in bed after a while and he held you while you slept. Needless to say it was probably the best sleep you’ve had in your adult life.

The next morning you woke up to see Jude cuddling to you like a koala and couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You wanted to make some breakfast so tried slowly getting out of his grasp but it only became stronger.

“I’m not letting you escape.” he murmured still half asleep.

“Jude, this is my house.” you laughed but he still didn’t budge.

“I want to make something to eat.” you whined hoping this would make him drop you but he just opened one eye and looked at you skeptically.

“Don’t you have a chef?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not all of us has that kind of money.” you retaliated and his face immediately turned pink as he thought you were offended.

“I- I didn’t mean it like-

“Relax, I’m messing with you. I do but she’s on a vacation.” you laughed but he stayed pouting so you figured a kiss would do the trick and it worked wonders.

This is how your past months were, secretly meeting up at one of your places, having dinner and basically doing most things couples do but without going out or having a title. He tried to have ‘the talk’ but you shut him down because it terrified you, you had strong feelings about him but decided it’d be better to sweep them under the rug and Jude, begrudgingly respected your decision.

But today was different, it was the el clasico and you couldn’t stand Jude at the moment. You were pretty convinced people could see the smoke coming out of your ears but didn’t care and hastily exited the stadium to go home. On the ride back you missed several texts and calls from Jude about where you were and when you finally checked them you didn’t bother to answer. He should know how mad you were right now and give you some space.

Unfortunately, that’s not the kind of man Jude Bellingham is. You were sure of it when you saw him standing at the door with a smug face and some chinese.

“I’m seriously not in the mood” you tried to shut the door because just seeing him made your blood boil.

“Aren’t you gonna congratulate me?” he laughed and you suddenly had an urge to strangle him but while you were staring at him in shock he made his way in.

“Jude, I said I’m not in the mood.” you reiterated but he was busy making himself comfortable on your couch. You stood in front of him while he looked up at you.

“Oh, come on, you can’t seriously be mad. This is my job Y/N.”

“And that was my team you scored against at the last minute.”

“What should have I done? Miss on purpose?” he looked at you like he was stating the obvious.

“I didn’t ask you to do anything on purpose, I’m just not in the mood for your teasing or gloating.” you motioned to the real madrid shirt he had on.

“How is this gloating? I literally came straight from the game? I didn’t have anything else clean.”

“Well yeah, it’s pissing me off.” you yelled.

“Y/N you need to understand I’m a professional footballer and I was just doing my job. It wasn’t anything personal.” he stated more calmly so you sat down next to him.

“And you need to understand it’s nothing personal too. I just can’t or won’t deal with a Madrid player right now… Or for a while.” you added with your hands in your hair and he raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.” you avoided his gaze.

“So you want to end this because I scored a goal.” he asked trying to remain calm but you could see his demeanor shift.

“Look, it was never going to work out anyway. We don’t have to make it a big deal.”

Now it was Jude’s turn to stand up angrily. He started shouting but you couldn’t even focus on the things he was saying, all you could think about was to wish you’ve never said all that. You didn’t even mean it but were just angry at the moment, maybe you wanted to hurt him just like he hurt you but you quickly realized breaking things off had effects on both of you. Jude stormed out after about two minutes of yelling, he looked so mad and defeated and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for hurting him.

This was for the best, you told yourself repeatedly. Maybe if you said it enough times it’d become the truth.

You woke up the next morning with a headache, not surprisingly. For a moment you reached over at Jude’s side to get some affection but was quickly reminded of last night’s events by the coldness of his side. Your heart ached and you felt so bad after seeing his state but couldn’t bring yourself to beg for his forgiveness. Maybe you should’ve done that, told him about all your fears and ask for a proper chance but couldn’t.

After taking a quick shower, you decided to check your phone. You wanted to do it the moment you woke up but was afraid there wouldn’t be any notifications from Jude. Not that you cared but still. And to nobody shock, there weren’t. You knew this would eventually happen. One day you’d push him too far and he’d leave you alone just like you told him multiple times but the thing you didn’t anticipate was him being the talk of the town. Well, you figured he’d be because of the game last night but it was actually for other reasons.

‘Jude Bellingham spotted leaving the club with an unknown woman after a magnificent goal’

#football imagine #football #football oneshot #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #football angst #fc barcelona #real madrid imagine #real madrid #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x yn #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

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tkwrites · 10 months ago

Text

I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey

Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC)

Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed.

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death.

Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here.

I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.

If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx

I’ll Be Proud For You

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?”

“I think Garly's having a party. Why?”

“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.”

“Sure.”

A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed.

Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.

At least he had a while to mentally prepare.

“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”

“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”

Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?

“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”

“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink.

Laughing, she leaned over and obliged.

He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it.

A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Then you're mine for the night?”

She nodded.

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner.

As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.

“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?”

“Good. How are you, Trav?”

“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”

“What? No.”

“Yep.”

“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.”

“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”

“One of your roommates?”

“No, someone I'm seeing.”

He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”

“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”

“How long is a while?”

“Two and a half months.”

“And you were going to tell us when?”

“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”

“And it's serious?”

“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.”

“What's his name?”

“Quinn.”

“How did you meet?”

“At the aquarium,” she said, “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.”

“He lives in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I should know about him?”

“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”

“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”

“You don't even have my baby pictures.”

“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.

Great. When should I pick you up?

I'm driving, so I'll come get you.

You have a car?

Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.

He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever.

I'll pick you up at 1 then?

What time is dinner?

5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out.

“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.”

“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.”

She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.

It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.

He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.

She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind.

“How was your morning?”

“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.”

“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his.

They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.

He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.

“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.

“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased.

She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look.

“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”

Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink.

“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”

“It would have been okay,” he said.

The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe.

“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.”

His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.

Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.”

“Well, you are second in the league.”

“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself.

Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.”

“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off.

“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?”

He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”

“I’d never considered it that way.”

He made a noise of ascent in his throat.

“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.

Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.

Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles.

His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face.

Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle.

“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.”

“I would agree with that,” Quinn said.

“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”

“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding.

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows.

“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.”

When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches.

Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.

When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked.

“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car.

Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.

“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.

“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart

Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green.

“It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”

Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.

“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!” She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran.

“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest.

Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.”

When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.

“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact.

“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.”

She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s.

“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.

“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.

Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway.

“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.

“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.”

He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.”

“With what?”

“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”

She nodded.

“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.”

The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.

Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling.

Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.

“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.”

“Sounds great.”

“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.”

Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate.

“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked.

“Sure.”

“We only have Guinness today.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?”

Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?”

He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way.

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?”

Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages.

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed.

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.”

“I didn’t when we met.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest.

“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.”

“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?”

“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”

“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.”

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.”

“So?”

“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”

One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?”

Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?”

“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added.

Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline.

“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.”

“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.”

“No.”

“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?”

“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”

“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”

“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched.

He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.

“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left.

If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing.

“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.

“Sure.”

“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef.

“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.

As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression.

“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.

“On April third.”

He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.

Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”

“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment.

Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.

Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.”

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.

Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”

“You hate whiskey.”

“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”

“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing.

Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.”

“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.

Quinn gave her a surprised look.

“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.”

Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?”

She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“What is that?” Quinn asked.

“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.”

Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.

Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage.

“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.”

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.”

“Do you think your job will get in the way?”

“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.

“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features.

“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.”

“What do you do on the road?”

“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.”

Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating.

“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.”

Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was.

“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.”

“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.”

Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.

“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.”

Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.”

The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.

Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.

As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially.

“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.”

“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home.

“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”

He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?”

She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it.

“After my mom died, I really struggled.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked.

Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.

“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.”

It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart.

“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.

“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.”

A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.

“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.”

“Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Attempt?”

He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.

“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her.

“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’”

Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened.

“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.”

God, she was even stronger than he thought.

“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.

“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?”

She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always really fleeting.”

Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”

“It’s not like I had any other choice.”

“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat.

“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.”

“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.”

“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”

“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.”

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

Text

— DEMONOLOGY AND HEARTACHE

SUMMARY : dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress

PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : explicit(18+), smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), corruption kink, praise kink, priest au, priest kink, sub/dom dynamics, sub!dean, defiling holy stuff

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from an atreyu song. dean’s not undercover, just pure corruption. I’m going to hell. my sister said his seed is holy, lmaoo. this one fills my “Go to hell!”/“Where do you think I came from?” square for my @jacklesversebingo card. enjoy Dean’s holy seed (and I’m sorry if y’all are religious, I used to be religious, too, to make it worse) XX

Green eyes illuminated by moonlight. They flit across the dark and empty space of the nave casually. There’s a draught that makes him shudder, but he remains unphased. He makes sure the lights are off, double checks that the doors and windows are closed, and continues onward to his room to rest for the night.

He’s still in his vestments, blending in with the darkness. He only becomes darker in the shadows of the hallways, making his way to the staircase leading to his room. The wooden stairs creak beneath his formal shoes, olden oak that’s more silent in the day, thunders in the silent dark.

A crucifix greets him when he’s at the top of the staircase and he makes the sign of the cross automatically, but slowly, with reverence. Moonlight kisses his delicate features; green eyes twinkle like a billion stars, gold lashes like the lustre of the sun’s reflection on the moon’s surface, freckles show clearly now beneath the exposing light.

His splendour is unmatched even inside the grand cathedral.

He makes his way blindly to his bedroom and wipes a hand over his stubble, scratching lightly at his jaw, thoughtfully planning out his next day. He gets to his room and begins to toe off his shoes as he pushes the door open all the way.

He expects moonlight to strike his face, but it’s quiet and dark. He can smell firewood and something foul, unfamiliar. He thinks nothing of it, he can feel the breeze pushing between his curtains, and assumes it’s something outside. He turns around to shut the door and holds the wall for balance as he pulls his shoes off all the way.

“Father,” he hears a soft voice, unknown to him. He turns quickly, half-scared, half-confused: how did someone get up here and why is there a woman in my room? were the first questions asked in his mind. The dim light on his bedside table lights up his room and reveals a nun in her nightgown sitting on his bed.

He recognises her now and relaxed, only slightly. She’s new and arrived two weeks ago. Sister… something or another; it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

She watches him curiously, her brows furrow and her eyes mysterious. She leans back casually on her arms, too relaxed for his comfort. The top of her nightgown undone, two strings hang loosely over her breasts. A chill teases his spine and rides up to the top of his head, prickling the freckled skin of his body. He doesn’t move.

“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, offering his hand to her to get her to stand from his bed. She stares at it indifferently. “You should be in your quarters,” he adds, reaching out for her arm instead.

“I’ve been thinking about what I confessed to you yesterday, Father,” she murmurs, shaking her arm out of his hand. He sighs tiredly, but smiles kindly at her anyway. He can’t remember her confession, everyone confesses multiple times about multiple things, and goes to him—searching for repentance.

“You’re forgiven, you need to move forward,” he reassures her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replies almost instantly. He raises a brow, but lets her continue. “Does that… make me a bad person?” She asks, concern and guilt laces her voice.

“No, it makes you human.” He purses his lips and takes her soft hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” he tries again, loosening his grip on her cool hand, but she keeps holding onto it.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenches when she lifts her cotton gown. He raises a brow when she’s standing up on her knees, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. Her other hand curls around the back of his neck and he opens his mouth to question her, moving back slightly. Instead, her grip becomes firm and her warm lips press against his lips and he stiffens, confused.

He can feel her hand around his wrist moving and her gown ruffles. He feels her warmth beneath his fingers, wetness against his fingertips, that makes him gasp and pull away. He snatches his hand away from between her legs and sees that she’s smiling knowingly.

“What are you doing?” He asks in disbelief, but his heart is pounding, sending blood to his cock. “You need to leave,” he clears his throat. Heat, like hellfire, washes over his body, and turns away to hide himself when his face flushes and his cock twitches.

“Come on, Father,” she murmurs provocatively. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before turning to face her with a glare. “I know what you’ve been dreaming of,” she laughs mischievously, sitting back on her legs. She pulls down the top of her nightgown, freeing her breast to play with her nipple. Her other hand moves down between her legs, she opens herself by parting her legs, and starts to tease her wet slit while he watches.

“Go to hell!” He shouts at her, looking away and trying to get out of his room. He reaches the doorknob and gets the door open only for it to slam shut.

“Where do you think I came from?” She asks darkly, and his stomach sinks. He shakes the doorknob wildly and pulls as hard as he can, but it doesn’t budge. He feels her hand grab the back of his shirt and she flings him across the room so he lands on the bed. He scrambles up on it and tries to get away when her eyes flash completely black. “You’re getting rusty, Dean, ignoring all those omens,” she shakes her head and tsks, climbing up on the bed with him.

He thinks about what she says, he never thought much about the mutilations because of the wolves that roam freely, or the electrical storms because of the cold and the usage of heaters, or the crop failures due to the weather. He shouldn’t have brushed it off, but he hadn’t encountered demonic activity in years. This whole time, it was circling him and he didn’t even notice.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he starts to whisper, grabbing the rosary from around his neck. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incur-” She grabbed the rosary from him roughly, quieting the exorcism from continuing, and stared at it with a wicked smile before pulling it harshly.

“That won’t work on me, baby.” The beads fell over his body when the rosary snapped. Wooden beads and black beads bounce on his bed, then scatter loudly onto the floor, rolling and sliding across wood until they stop on their own or hit a wall.

“You… you were making me dream all those things,” he accuses breathlessly. She nods wordlessly, stepping in between his parted legs with her hands on his bent knees. She bites her lip, stares lustfully at the black attire he wears. A holy man.

“I know… you liked it,” she whispers, causing him to swallow nervously. “I watched you pleasure yourself every time you woke up,” she admits shamelessly, fingers meeting his belt to get it off. He squirmed and grabbed her hand to stop her, but his cock was hard just remembering his hedonistic actions and the lewd dreams that haunted him every night for weeks. “What was it like dreaming of how soft I feel? Do you think your hand feels as good as I do inside? Do you want my mouth like you loved using it in your dreams?” She continues to tease, leaning over him, hands sliding up the front of his body.

He was warm and taut beneath her hands. His body hums with pleasure, he aches to touch her despite knowing it was wrong. He craves to feel her body beneath his own, wrapped around him so tightly. He hates himself for it, but it’s all his mind could think of, especially when he could feel her warm breath over his tingly lips.

“What do you want from me?” He asks quietly, staring deeply into her black eyes. She blinks and they return to normal eyes again, a sweet smile growing on her face. It could’ve fooled him, that warmth that sparkled inside—it must actually be hellfire.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you, I want you to need it really bad,” she whispered hotly, tracing the buttons on his shirt. He swallowed anxiously, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of her pink lips and soft skin, supple breasts in plain sight, smooth thighs pressed against his. His whole body longed for the feel of her lips, her hands, for everything of hers to be on him.

“I… I can’t do that,” he choked out. He grabs her hands and moves them away from his body then scoots up on his bed to put some distance between them.

“You can,” she encourages him with a wicked smile, crawling up to him. “You will,” she promises, reaching between his legs for his belt.

He squirms, weakly attempting to push her away because that’s what his instincts told him to do. She’s a demon, he’s a priest. She is unholy and he’s supposed to be an intermediary for God, Jesus, the angels, the Holy Spirit, and everything else that’s good. He can’t just lay with a woman, especially when she comes directly from hell.

She didn’t make a single move. She just waited for him and her hair fell prettily over her shoulder when she tilted her head at him expectantly. Her skin looked smooth and her lips were pink and they looked soft. He could easily remember what they looked like around his cock in his dreams. He didn’t want to give in to her, he spent years in the church, he has every scripture memorised, and he’s helped hundreds of people without expecting so much as a thanks.

But he wanted to really feel what he’d felt in his dreams for two weeks. He craved it like he’d never craved sex before—or anything else for that matter. Here, in a holy place was a very sexy woman in his bed, a woman who crawled her way out of hell and became fixated on him. For weeks, she tormented him, planted herself in his dreams and gave him glimpses of her in real life as a nun covered from head to toe.

Now, she sat between his legs, with nothing underneath her sleeping gown. The pure white dress hid the true darkness of her soul. He rubbed his fingers together, though they were dry, his slacks tightened just remembering the feel of her wet folds against his fingertips. He’d never been this hard and desperate before, it usually went away quickly when the guilt of his libidinous thoughts consumed him.

He’d never done anything bad before, never strayed from his teachings or from the rules. Here she was, tempting him to take a bite of her, tempting him to give himself to her for her pleasure, for his pleasure. Demon or not, no one’s ever gone out of their way to get to him, that was a messed up thought, but it turned him on.

“Please,” he chokes out. It shocked him. He stared at her in surprise, but she just looked back at him arrogantly. Slowly, as if waiting for his protest, she tugged his belt and got the leather out of the buckle. He started to breathe heavily, aroused by her gaze and thought of being defiled.

She starts to pull the belt from the loops of his slacks and he willingly lifts his hips when it catches beneath him. He gives in easily when she pops the button out of the slit. He even lets his head fall back into the pillow and rolls his hips upwards when she slowly pulls the zipper down.

She starts to pull his pants down, he can feel the rough scrap of his boxers against his skin when she tries to do it all at once. He doesn’t care anymore, with his thumbs hooked at the sides, he pulls them down with her help. He can feel the cool air kiss his cock, slowly as she exposes him. He moans softly when he’s fully free, he knows there’s precum leaking at the slit, it feels colder.

He feels like a wanton whore and he’s barely made a sound. He can hear the delicate fabric of his clothes hit the floor, it makes him feel more excited.

“Wow, you really are blessed,” she murmurs, her warm breath blowing over his cock. He fists the sheets, feels it twitch instantly, and opens his eyes to stare at her. “It’s just as pretty as the rest of you,” she praises, keeping eye contact with him. He bites his lip and he’s about to respond with a ‘shut up’ when she lets a string of her saliva drip onto his tip.

The words catch in his throat. She leans forward, her soft hair falls over her face, and her tongue makes contact with the warm head of his cock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she hums at the taste of him. His body stiffens and it feels even better than he dreamed. When he lets his head fall back into the pillow, he catches a glimpse of the crucifix over his bed. She turned it upside down.

“Father,” she whispers, “don’t look away from me.” He looks back at her, her soft hands manoeuvre his body so he has his knees bent upwards again. He feels exposed, vulnerable, sinful, and dirty.

“Don’t call me that,” he requests softly. He reaches for her jaw to guide her back down onto him. That excites her, he can see her eyes livening. His stomach flutters.

“Dean,” she sneers when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and starts to twist her hand upwards. He growls lowly, shyly lifts his arm, and puts it over his eyes. “I prefer calling you Father. It makes this way hotter. Don’t you think?” She asks teasingly and then laughs.

“No….” He trailed off, spreading his legs a little wider when she leaned forward to kiss his stomach.

“Call me whatever you want, Father,” she whispers against his skin, trailing her lips downwards as she jerks him off. “Whore, demon, hellspawn… Sister,” she smirks when he whines, then sucks on his hip bone. A red mark blossoms on his skin. “I’m so wet,” she tells him, teasingly flattering her palm over the tip of his dick, “this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” He watches the little smirk on her face and while he’s curious about what she does in hell, he can feel his impending release.

“Please,” he begs quietly. It makes her stop instead. She puts one hand on the inside of his thigh and spreads him open the way a man would do to a woman and she stares down at him curiously. He wiggles to close his legs but she’s stronger than he is, and keeps him as she has him. She pulls gently at his balls, then pushes, and eventually finds a pace where it starts to feel more intense.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs with a chuckle, “you’re so fucking sexy.” He flushes at her words and watches her lean down to suck on his balls. He moans loudly and tangles his hand in her hair, then tugs so she moves upwards. “You’re built like a god, any man would be jealous,” she teases, letting him guide her.

“Do what you did in my dreams,” he suggests, then slid his hand down her shoulder and inside the top of her nightgown. He fondled her breasts and innocently held eye contact with her.

“What did I do?” She asks playfully, placing one small kiss on his leaking cock. He glares at her, but she shrugs like she has no idea what he’s talking about. She continues to tease him instead, bites down on his thigh and sucks until he’s whining.

“Please, suck it,” he begs bashfully, pulling his hand out of the gown. She moves up his body, he’s sure it’s to embarrass him when she stares down at him.

“Suck what?” He groans at her question, lifts both hands to tug frustratedly at his hair. She moves away nonchalantly, slowly begins to lift the white gown upwards, revealing inch by glorious inch of her perfect body. He watches her touch herself with his mouth parted in astonishment, her hands play with her breasts and she teases herself between her legs.

“Suck my cock, please, I want to feel your mouth,” he rushes out quickly. He sits up and takes her waist, dragging her forward until he has his warm mouth on her nipple.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” she promises, playing with his hair. She rubs her thighs together and lets him switch from one nipple to the other. He stares up at her the whole time, his eyes shimmering with lust. “I hope this haunts you forever,” she sneers. Giving his hair a sharp tug to move him away forcefully and go down on him. He grunts softly and wraps his hand around his cock, slowly sliding a dry hand up and down.

“That’s my job,” she scolds, slapping his hand away. She settles between his legs, and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, sending a sharp electric feeling running up his spine. It’s unbelievable how wet she feels around him, how warm her mouth feels engulfing him inch by inch. His stomach becomes taut with the way she runs her tongue along the bottom vein, sucking when she lifts up slightly, then does it over and over.

Her slowness drives him crazy. She was merciless in his dreams, passionate and focused on making him reach the ultimate pleasure, but now, she’s just torturing him. One of her hands follows her mouth and the other slides up his chest beneath the buttoned black shirt. Her nails scrape his chest gently but her fingers brush teasingly against his nipple. He arches his back and moans loudly, he doesn’t care that the night amplifies his voice and carries his pretty noises quickly down the halls of the holy church.

She slides her hand away from his chest and blindly finds his wrist. He grips the sheets tightly, moaning and groaning. The sounds he made travelled to her clit, it pulsed, her walls clenched around nothing, and she dripped between her legs with a flood of warm heat. He let her place his hand on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She’s not going to give him what he wants, she wants him to take what he wants. It’s the ultimate goal for her, to make him loosen up and fuck her mouth.

“Please, I want…” he trails off, both his hands now resting on her head. She drools around his cock and hums when he pushes her down farther. She wants to shove him deeper into her, to take him fast and hard, but it turns her on more to make him needy and desperate. To make him be the one that uses her demonic mouth and hellish body for his pleasure.

She holds onto the back of his thighs and pushes them so they’re almost at his chest. When her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she swallows around him, he holds her there.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, his balls draw inwards and his stomach coils. She moans softly and starts to pull off him, only to start sucking and bobbing her head up and down just as he wanted her to. He gets louder somehow and rougher, his grip on her hair is almost painful. The sounds of her throat getting fucked makes him shudder and squirm. He needs to cum so bad. “Yes, don’t stop…” he breathes out.

She hums again, he thought it was a promise that she wouldn’t stop, but when he makes that specific grunt he tends to make when he’s about to cum and when he stiffens and gasps, the warmth of her wet mouth is replaced by the drag of cool air from the room.

He whines and his eyes fly open. He watches her smirk and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She still has one hand on his thigh, bending him and keeping him open. He gets shy again, but she doesn’t let him keep his dignity. She gets closer to him and she leans over him to whisper, “you taste so good, Father, I’d imagine it’s all the holy fuckery you consume and spew to others…”

“It turns me on. You make me so wet and needy. Your mouth is mine.” She kisses him softly, even though her words offend him. He glares at her for her blasphemy, but his eyes close when her soft, sweet lips make contact with his. The tenderness of her kiss fools him, takes his mind off her offensive expressions, and keeps him complacent.

Her tongue prods at his lips. Her lewdness makes him eager, she’s thorough, licking across his lips slowly. When he opens his mouth to her, her kiss is hungry. She traces the inside of his mouth with her tongue, like a cartographer, she’s precise and she makes him breathless. She barely pulls away, allowing him to catch his breath temporarily before resuming.

She’s warm when her tongue brushes against his, velvety and sweet. She tastes like wine and fruit, bitter and sweet. The taste of her is divine, opposing her unholy nature and the filthy words she uses to worship him. She pulls away again and straddles his hips. He barely recovers from her kiss when he feels her rub herself over his cock.

He feels his stomach do flips like a dog excited to show his master tricks for a treat. She moans softly and continues rolling her hips. He bends his knees and grasps her thighs painfully, watches between their bodies how she slides her wetness up and down his cock. She begins to unbutton his shirt and carelessly throw the clerical collar behind her when she fully gets the shirt open.

“Wait,” he stops her breathlessly, “is this your body?”

She raises a brow and looks down at herself with a nod. “Had to dig it out of a hole in the forest. I was a witch, a badass one. Those stupid hunters,” she grumbles the last bit under her breath, lifts herself up and positions his tip at her entrance. He raises a brow, too, a smile of amusement grew on his lips as he bit down on it. “Why? Do you like it?” She smirks, but his response is cut off by a moan when she lowers herself on his cock.

She feels even better than he dreamed. He huffs out a breath, he feels sweatier with the shirt and the suit jacket he still wears, but if she doesn’t feel like letting him take it off, he doesn’t mind. She grinds down on him and finds his hands to place one on her breasts and the other between her legs.

“You feel fucking amazing inside me, Dean,” she praises. His stomach lurches, the use of his name turns him on more, and he bucks his hips up. With a little moan she starts to lift herself up, he can feel every inch of her against his cock, the wetness, the warmth. He doesn’t think he’ll last as long as he did in his dreams. He carefully thumbs between her folds and feels for her clit. Her gasp guides him and he gently flicks it until she’s riding him faster. She leans back against his bent legs, arches her back, and he squeezes her breast roughly. “That’s right, you’re doing so good,” she says softly, spreading her legs to open herself more to his adept fingers.

Her words spur him on, the bedsprings start to squeak, the headboard starts to hit the wall, the upside down crucifix rattles on the wall. His senses are high. She feels amazing wrapped around his cock, her breathy moans fuel the fire of his orgasm. She tightens and squeezes around him, walls clamping down and keeping him inside her. He starts to get louder, too, he can’t help it. Groans slip from his lips and he whimpers occasionally, he can feel her react each time, and he doesn’t plan on shutting up.

“You’re so good, so goddamned perfect,” she cries softly, it’s the hottest thing he’s heard or seen. She gets sloppy and desperate, staring down at him covetously. He stares back, even if he wants to shut his eyes and hide away from her gaze. He rubs around her clit faster and watches her fall apart, little by little.

She sounds, looks, and feels even hotter. In his dreams, he understood her intentions and how hot it would be if they had sex, but the reality of it is far more intense and intimate compared to any of his dreams. She filled his mind with fantasies he’d never had before. Having sex in the confessional, on the altar, in the Bishop’s office, and countless locations that were far too holy—in his opinion—being defiled by both of them. He pinches her nipple roughly, she moans and tightens around him. Then, he flicks her clit faster, watches her seize while whining his name.

“Be a good boy and cum for me, Dean. Want you to fill me up,” she says breathlessly. He throbs inside of her and whimpers involuntarily, feeling himself spill inside her as if his body worked according to her commands.

“God,” he moans, bucking his hips upwards. He abandons her clit and her breast, and bruisingly digs his fingers into her thighs. He moans softly, letting the orgasm take over his body and mind. He pulls her down with both hands on her hips and keeps her on his cock shortly, her walls flutter and she inhales sharply. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes half-open.

“Holy fuck,” she gasps, toes curling as she falls apart at the sensation of his cum warming her up. She slowly moves up and down, letting him feel every inch of her pulsing walls along his throbbing cock. Her fingers find her clit to intensify and lengthen her orgasm, finishing what he’d begun. She doesn’t expect his tenderness, but he sits up and tangles his hand into her hair and kisses her deeply.

He mimics how she’d kissed him earlier. His inexperienced tongue traces the roof of her mouth and he brushes his tongue timidly against hers. She deepens the kiss, encourages him to keep doing what he wants to do and tugs his hair. His quiet moans make her horny again and he pulls away. Now that she’s abandoned her clit, she shoves his clothes off his shoulders.

She kisses his neck and his chest. His mind starts to drift now that he’s basking in the afterglow, her lips ghost downward and she lightly touches his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He stiffens and focuses on her again. She moves off his softened cock which is coated in a mixture of their release. She chuckles and then beholds him in his entirety.

He glows and he’s flushed, pink and shiny with sweat. His cock rests on his thighs and he has a mark on his hip from her lips. His lips are swollen, almost red from biting them, coated in saliva—hers and his. His hair is a mess, sexy and soft. He looks guilty now, but she moves forward and looks him in the eyes when she licks the cum off his sensitive cock.

“Don’t worry, Father,” she murmurs before sucking gently on the tip. He gasps and clutches her hair, pulling her off him forcibly. “Even for this… they’ll forgive you, Dean,” she whispers darkly. She gets off the bed and he watches her walk to the small altar he has. She steals a white cloth then walks around his room curiously. She stops in front of a photograph of Jesus and she opens her legs to clean herself.

His eyes widen as he watches her, “hey, come here.” He takes her attention away successfully and watches her drop her leg to walk towards him. “Why are you interested in me?” Is the first question that comes to mind as he panics. “Will you… be less interested in me if I sin more, like we did tonight?” He has the feeling part of her interest in him is simply the fact that he is the weakest, the most susceptible to sin, lust, and making mistakes.

“No… because you’re not going to stray from your beliefs,” she reassures him. “You actually believe, because of your father. Stay the way you are, Dean. You’re going to repent and you’ll mean it, but when you’re with me… you’ll sin again and I’ll defile you, over and over,” she smiles down at him and then climbs onto his bed again, she settles behind him, leaning against the headboard and the wall.

“Until when?” He asks, turning around to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, then her eyes flicker down to her body. She parts her folds with two fingers. “Taste me,” she tells him. He tears his eyes from her face to look between her legs. His mouth waters and he slowly gets down into his stomach and stares back up at her. He gently prods her clit with his tongue, her other hand moves into his hair while his tongue slides between her two fingers. “Don’t you worry about the when right now… you and I will have our fun.”

➥ god, if you are above

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