#i handed a second one in yesterday and started a third today. hoping to have it done tomorrow but... its not due until feb so... i have som

[bangcakes]

.

[aothotties]

Telling Toji you want a baby

Hello beautiful people! I wanted to post this yesterday, but I was busy celebrating mothers day myself! Happy belated mothers day to all the sexy moms out there!

Warnings: mentions or pregnancy, fluff, sought angst, mentions of mama fushiguro, creampie, overstimulation,

Word count: 1690

~~~

You and Toji are on your way back from visiting your sister and her family. She just recently had her third baby and you decided to stay and help her around the house.

During your visit, you couldn’t help but develop a bit of baby fever being around her children. Those cute chubby cheeks and the random babbling was enough to convince you to make one yourself.

You and Toji have talked about starting a family of your own in the past but decided you wanted to wait until his son, Megumi, was older.

You’re pulled out of your deep thoughts when you hear car doors closing outside, indicating that your husband and son are home. You greet them at the door and Megumi runs into your arms.

“How was school munchkin?” You ask, picking the small boy up and resting him on your hip.

“It was good, I missed you today.” He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back soothingly.

Your baby fever is getting stronger by the damn second and your husband standing in the kitchen watching you two isn’t helping one bit.

“I miss you too gumi, you want a snack?” He shakes his head and closes his eyes instead.

“He had a long day of playing so I’m sure he’s tired.” Your husband says, walking around the island in the kitchen to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I can tell, I’ll go and lay him down.” You hold Megumi close as you make your way to his room.

You smile at the sound of his light snore and loosened grip on your shirt. You lay him down slowly and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Love you, mom.” He mumbles sleepily and your eyes widen.

Megumi has never called you mom before, he’s only ever called you by your first name. You and Toji agreed that you would let Megumi decide what you were to him, and it’s clear he has.

You press a kiss to his forehead and close your eyes as you feel tears build up.

“I love you too.” You whisper back and step out of his room.

You quickly wipe your tears and clear your throat as you walk into your and your husband's shared bedroom.

To your surprise Toji is already in there, his headset is thrown over his ears and he’s lounging back in his chair.

“Hey cutie pie, why the long face? Did another animal die in a book or something?” He teases, and you roll your eyes.

You force yourself into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. He looks at you in pure confusion and sets his controller and headset aside.

“Megumi called me mom.” You mumble against his shoulder silently.

Toji freezes in his chair and isn’t exactly quite sure how to react. You both have talked about his wife in the past, but you try not to since you know it’s a bit of a tough subject.

“I’m sorry this is out of nowhere, I just felt like you should know.” He wraps his arms around you tightly and you relax in his embrace.

“Don’t apologize, he’s right you are his mom. You’ve been here since he was one. You’re all he knows.” He rubs your back and rests his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to talk to you about that. So you know how my sister and her husband just had a baby?” You ask, you nervously play with the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah I’m aware, your mother wouldn’t stop asking when we were gonna have our own, why?” He raises an eyebrow and you simply smile at him.

“Oh my god are you pregnant!?” He sits up quickly and you almost fall from his lap.

“Jesus Christ Toji, no I’m not, but I’m hoping I soon will be.” You quickly throw in the last part and await his response.

“You’re serious right now? You want a baby?” He asks looking into your eyes for any signs of doubt.

You nod confidently and straddle his legs while he sits back. You rub your hands up and down his arms and chest slowly.

“Don’t you wanna make a baby with me, Toji?” You seductively ask, lips kissing up his neck gently.

He smirks at your antics and grabs a handful of your ass in his large hands.

“If you’re serious about this then so am I, I’m never gonna say no to coming inside your sweet pussy”

That’s the last thing you remember before you end up bent over the mattress with your face stuffed in the sheets.

You don’t wanna wake up poor Megumi down the hall, but it’s getting harder not to scream with the pounding your poor cunt is receiving.

“Be quiet mama, I see I’ve got to teach you some things. Can’t be waking up the new baby with your screamin’.” He teases, and his rough hand rubs up your back.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you so your back is flush against his chest. The new angle has your eyes rolling back and your head resting weakly on his shoulder.

“T-Toji, f-feels good!” You whine as his thick bulbous tip abuses your sweet spot.

“Of course it does baby, you can’t stop coming and crying on my cock.” He smirks and holds onto your hips with both hands as he picks up his thrusting.

Your walls tighten around his thick shaft and your orgasm courses through your entire body. Toji wraps an arm around your waist as you convulse on top of him, he uses his other hand to rub quick circles on your swollen nub.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy, t-too much” You gasp as another orgasm builds up quickly, your lower belly warming up slightly.

“You can take it, Daddy’s so close princess. I want you to take all of me, can you do that baby?” He grunts out in pleasure, and the feeling of your sopping pussy begins to catch up to him.

His hips start to lose their rhythm but never their force, you nod your head in response to his question.

The hand gripping your waist slaps over your mouth and you scream into it as another climax approaches.

This one wetting the man and bed below you, tears begin to stream down your face and your body goes limp.

Toji replaces his hand with his lips and thrust up into you and few more times before pumping his warm cum into you.

You whimper against his lip with each twitch of his veiny cock, his large fingers finally give your clit a break.

He pulls away from the kiss and rubs his hand over your belly. You open your eyes and look up at him, the need for sleep is very clear on your face.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother.” He plants one last kiss on your forehead before he maneuvers you both to lay on your side.

You smile at the compliment and attempt to sit up so you can go and take a shower.

“Baby, we’re done now. I need to clean up and take a shower.” You look back at him and he raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh no baby, we’re not finished. I was just giving you a break. We need to make sure you get pregnant, don’t we?”

~~~

“Happy Mother’s Day mama!” You hear from above you.

You open your tired eyes and are met with your son and husband standing over you with gifts and breakfast.

“Oh my goodness, thank you guys!” You sit up as quickly as your large belly will allow and rub the sleep from your eyes.

You pull Megumi into your lap with the help of Toji and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. Toji sets the food next to you as he sits down and you kiss him as well.

“Daddy told me to tell you that he cooked.” Your son gives you a bright smile as he tells you the surprise and you hold in a laugh.

You can hear the older man suck on his teeth and can only assume an eye roll came after it.

“Well, I can’t wait to try the food Daddy cooked. I’m sure it’s delicious.” You reassure Toji and he gives you a small smile.

You hum in satisfaction at the taste of the food and also end up feeding your two boys in the process.

“When will my brother get here?” Megumi asks, well you assume that’s what he asked because his mouth is full of eggs.

“Well, baby the doctors said any day now, it’s up to him.” You wipe his face with a napkin and he giggles at the feeling.

“You can come out now, It’s okay!” Megumi lays on the bed and pokes at your stomach as he talks to it.

“Alright boy that’s enough, stop poking your brother.” Toji feeds him another piece of bacon and the little boy jumps off the bed quickly.

You laugh and shake your head while Toji just sighs.

“I don’t know where he gets that from.” He mumbles, stuffing eggs in his mouth now.

“Yeah, I have no clue either.” You say as you stare at the adult version of your son.

“How are you feeling? He doesn’t seem to have much space in there.” He looks down at your belly and tries to massage away any soreness.

“I’m doing alright, he’s ready to come out now. I haven’t had any more contractions within the last hour so I think I’m good.” You continue to eat more food and Toji just stares at you.

“Have you been having contractions and didn’t tell me?” He gently turns your face toward him and you nod your head.

“I woke up and you guys were gone so I laid back down, it’s not like my water broke or anything.” You shrug your shoulders only to realize that you may have spoken too soon as your bed dampens under you.

Toji’s eyes widen in pure shock and you smile nervously at him in return.

“Oops?”

Ari

[saistappen]

Mariquita | CS55

In which Carlos' appendectomy triggers a huge emotional chaos in you and makes you realise just how big your feelings for the Spaniard actually are

or

In which your concern for Carlos clearly shows the Spaniard that you probably feel the same way about him as he does about you

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The last few days have been pure confusion. You could clearly feel this at Ferrari.

After Carlos' appendicitis was announced, on which he had to undergo surgery, the young Briton Olli Bearman was brought in to replace Carlos and chaos began to reign in the team.

Some things had to be changed, such as the adjustment of the seat, as well as various other things up to the well-known gift in the social media.

The hustle and bustle could be clearly felt throughout the team. But the excitement was not just for the young 18-year-old Brit, but also for the Spaniard. Because most of the time, the team's thoughts were on Carlos, who should soon have the operation behind him.

" Have you finished the Instagram post yet? " Lucy asked me as she sat down at the table opposite me.

" Uhm, what? " confused, I lifted my eyes from my mobile phone, which I kept glancing at hopefully to be the first to hear the news about Carlos' condition.

But so far there was still no news, which slowly started to make me more and more nervous.

"I wonder if you've already posted on Instagram that Carlos has come through the operation okay," Lucy continued in a gentle voice and put her hand on my arm.

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in and for me to really understand what she meant.

" W-really? " I stammered, while at the same time a huge stone fell from my heart and I began to feel the tightness in my chest, which had been there since yesterday, loosen.

" But I didn't read anything in the group. How do you know that? " I was sure I hadn't read anything, because for the last ten minutes I'd been checking the Ferrari chat on my mobile phone, hoping I hadn't missed anything.

" Fred just came up to me. He was talking to Carlos Senior. Everything went well and he's now recovering in hospital. " Lucy gave me a soft smile as her thumb gently stroked my arm.

Not only was she my best friend on the team, she was also the one who knew how close Carlos and I actually were.

When I joined the team about a year ago, Carlos was the first to welcome me with open arms and show me around.

During my first day at work, the Spaniard kept coming round to ask me how things were going.

When he invited me for a meal at the end of my first shift and listened attentively to what I had to say about my first successful day at work, a friendship developed within a few weeks.

"Thank God," I whispered quietly as a relieved smile crept onto my lips.

All your fears and worries that something could have gone wrong during the operation vanished within a few seconds.

"I'll post it straight away! " I almost shouted as I reached for my mobile phone and then opened the Ferrari Instagram account that I was partly responsible for.

One of my tasks in the team was to keep the fans up to date via Instagram and Twitter. I also had a say in the C2 Challenges on YouTube, where I always created fun content for the fans.

It wasn't long before I had chosen a photo of Carlos and typed up a short text about his condition and then posted it.

"Now I can get back to work feeling better," I mumbled as I reached for your fruit salad, which had been sitting untouched on the table in front of me, and started eating.

" I believe you. It's about time my favourite colleague was finally back at work with a smile on her face. "

Yesterday almost flew by, which was probably due to the good news that had lifted my spirits so much that I was completely back in the swing of things.

Olli had done well in the third free practice session and in qualifying, as had Charles, who would start today's race from second place.

This lifted my spirits even further, so I entered Ferrari Hospitality with a smile on my face and greeted a few of my colleagues who were already having breakfast.

"Morning sunshine," Charles greeted me with an amused smile as I stood next to him at the buffet and reached for a plate.

"Morning my favourite Monegasque," I replied brightly and then reached for a croissant.

" Do I want to know why you're shining like the non-existent sun today? " Charles asked as he reached for a bowl of muesli and then continued. " Well, actually, I know what it is..."

Charles winked and then began to waggle his eyebrow dramatically, which looked rather strange.

"Are you all right? " I asked him, while I also secured a bowl of muesli and placed it on my tray.

" I'm doing great. I'm ready for the race, but that's not the issue right now. Try not to get distracted," he almost admonished me and raised his index finger in the air in warning before continuing. "Could it be that your good mood is back thanks to Carlo's successful operation? Because since this was announced, you seem to have changed. "

" It's race day..." I tried to talk my way out of it, but I couldn't, as Charles hovered his index finger over my lips to indicate that I should be quiet.

"I'm neither stupid nor daft. I know for a fact that there's something going on between you and Carlos. It's certainly none of my business, but I can see that you're good for each other and I think that's great. Don't stop doing good for each other, okay? Okay, great! See you then! "

Before I could open my mouth to give Charles an answer, the Ferrari driver had already fled, almost running, with his tray.

Shaking my head, I looked after the Monegasques for a few seconds before I ran over to one of the free tables with my tray and began to eat my breakfast in peace.

And as I sat there eating my breakfast in comfort, my thoughts kept wandering back to Charles' words.

Were Carlos and I really on good terms? And if so, was Carlos and my behaviour really so obvious that others had probably noticed?

Once again, a tightness began to spread through my chest, so I pushed the breakfast on my tray to one side in disgust and began to sigh softly.

But before I could even begin to think about Carlos and me, Lucy appeared in front of me.

Her blonde hair lay dishevelled on her face, her cheeks shimmered red and she put her hands on her hips, out of breath.

" Lucy are you okay? " I asked cautiously and all I got in reply was a squeezed " Water. "

After I handed Lucy my water, which she drank within a few seconds and then just stood there for a few more seconds, I got nervous.

I could sense that something wasn't right and the fact that Lucy just wouldn't come out with it made me even more nervous.

" Lucy... " I almost urged as you began to shift restlessly on the chair.

" Carlos is here! " she almost shouted so loudly that one or two Ferrari employees turned to us both and looked at me in confusion.

"Sorry, I meant Carlos is here," she repeated more quietly as she dropped into the chair opposite me and rested her elbows on the table.

" What? Why is he here? He just had an operation yesterday! " I looked at the person opposite me with wide eyes as I almost jumped up.

" I have no idea! I saw a story on Instagram where he's walking through the paddock. Or should I say crawling? He can barely walk, he looks absolutely pale and like he's in pain! " she continued, making strange hand movements that I couldn't interpret at all.

" What?! " I repeated again, almost stunned, while my heart began to beat faster.

Why was he here and not resting? He couldn't be serious.

I immediately began to worry so much that I jumped up and ran off without waiting for an answer from Lucy.

" Thanks for breakfast! " she called after me, but I hardly noticed because I only had one thing on my mind. Carlos.

I kept dodging various members of other teams as I ran, keeping my eyes peeled for Carlos.

It wasn't long before I found him and a few other Ferrari employees in the pits, where he was greeted warmly with hugs and a few words.

I stayed in the background and watched Carlos from a distance. And indeed, he looked anything but well.

His posture was more hunched than upright and his face was rather pale, which occasionally even showed that he must clearly be in pain.

Why the hell wasn't he lying in bed and resting?

It took a few minutes for the Spaniard to catch sight of me. Within a few seconds, his face brightened and he literally crept over to me.

"Mariquita," he greeted me with a smile on his lips and pulled me into a warm hug shortly afterwards.

I carefully wrapped my arms around him, hoping not to cause him any more pain.

" Carlos, what are you doing here? " was the first thing I said to him.

" How about a "Oh, hello Carlos. I'm glad you're doing well and that you've come through everything okay?" " he asked as he let go of me and then leant against the wall next to me.

He seemed to find it difficult to even stand up straight. He was even still wearing his hospital bracelet. It was as if he'd literally fled from the hospital and gone straight to the track.

" Are you crazy? You had appendicitis, had to have an operation and haven't even rested for a day? You can barely walk, you look incredibly shitty and you still seem to be in pain! " I spoke in an angry voice and didn't care if anyone was listening. Because apparently I was the first person to say these words to him.

And probably the only one who was thinking straight.

"I'm fine," he tried to reassure me, but he seemed to realise himself that this wasn't the case.

" No, you're not! " I looked at him seriously for a few seconds before turning on my heel and leaving.

Carlos' warm hand grabbed my arm and caused a slight electric shock to run through my body.

"I'm sorry, Mariquita. Let's talk in peace," his voice sounded soft and calm.

He carefully led me into a kind of storeroom that I had never been in before.

A few things were stored here, such as drinks and spare items for the mechanics, like a sofa that stood in the middle of the room.

Carlos slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, grimacing slightly, and then carefully pulled me next to him.

The sofa was so narrow that we sat there more or less pressed against each other and the touch of our knees and arms made my heart start beating faster again and I became slightly restless.

" You have every right to be angry with me and to worry. That's really sweet of you, but it was entirely my decision to come here. In hospital, the ceiling would have literally fallen on my head and I wanted everyone to know that I was okay."

"But you should take it easy, Carlos..." I almost mumbled and looked at the Spaniard, whose eyes were on me.

"I will, I promise," he assured me as he came a little closer to me and I felt his breath on my cheek.

Shortly afterwards, I felt his warm lips lightly on my cheek, which made the area start to tingle warmly and the heat shot up my cheek.

" I've heard from some people how worried you were about me. That was really incredibly sweet of you, Mariquita," Carlos began and gently stroked a strand of my hair behind my ear before continuing.

"We both know that there's more between us. And that's why I want to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me? " His brown eyes rested calmly on me while a soft smile formed on his lips.

His words caused chaos to awaken in my stomach, as all the butterflies that had just been lying there quietly for a long time began to awaken and turn my feelings completely upside down.

" Yes, but only if you take it easy. Otherwise you can forget the date," I replied with a partly serious and partly worried look.

It was important to me that Carlos recovered fully from the operation and regained his strength so that he would soon be fit again and able to get back into the car.

"I promise, Mariquita."

[scribblesofagoonerr]

September Love | Never Grow Up

the third and final installment in the mini series - this is the second version, more sadder so that's a heads up there

summary: remi starts her first year of school and there's a new arrival in the williamson family

pairings: leah williamson x reader

warning: talks of death.

alternative ending for this one - please don't hate me for it, i'm sorry in advance!

based on the reactions to this one, is how i am going to figure out the next mini series!

“I can’t believe it’s this time already,” Leah says, a frown etched on her face as she stares at an old photo of Remi at 5 weeks old that she had saved in her phone, “Where has the time gone?” She murmurs.

It only felt like it was yesterday.

“We blinked Le,” You tell her, your eyes softening, “And just like that, she’s off to big school.” You add.

“But she’s still too tiny for big school, isn’t she?” Your wife exhales a sigh and continues to stare at the photo on her phone with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Le, she’s 5 years old now. We have to let her go now,” You say gently, reminding your wife that your eldest girl was indeed not a baby now.

“I still don’t like it though,” Leah admits quietly, shaking her head in disagreement.

You can’t help but chuckle heartily, “She’s only going into her first year of reception, it’s not like she’s moving out the country,” You tease your wife, which you’re quick to be on the dirty end of a scowl, “Come on Le, you know what I mean.”

“Don’t even joke about things like that,” Leah murmurs, continuing to frown at you, “You don’t get it though, it’s her first day of big school… which means she’s not a baby anymore.” She adds.

“No she’s not,” You reply quietly in agreement.

Your wife bites her bottom lip and shakes her head vigorously, “I don’t like it. Why can’t we just turn back the clock?” She asks.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You laugh humorlessly and shake your head.

“It’s just,” Leah begins to say as she finds the right words, “She was our tiny little baby at one point and now… now she’s just growing up so fast.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got time to go through all this again, remember?” You tell her, gesturing towards your swollen belly as you are ready to give birth any day now, “Twice.”

“I know,” Your wife’s eyes soften as she crouches down and rests her hands on your baby bump, “I can’t wait to meet you baby boy.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

“And he can’t wait to meet his Mummy either,” You tell her, genuinely smiling at the blonde, “Any day now.” You add, hopeful that he does make his appearance sooner rather than later after getting to the stage of being uncomfortable, and pregnancy during Summer is no joke.

“Why’re you sad, Mummy?” Remi’s voice pipes up out of nowhere, all ready for school wearing her brand new school uniform that you have to admit looks massive on her, her hair done up in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon attached while she wears her new black shiny shoes that you had the absolute misfortune of having to experience standing in a queue to just to get into the busy shop – that is something that you can definitely say you’re not such a fan off.

“Oh I’m not sad, baby Gooner,” Leah immediately plasters a smile on her face, “I’m just… I’m really proud of you, you know?” She adds, wiping away the stray tears from her face.

“But you’re crying though,” Remi frowns in confusion as she tilts her head to the side, “You only do that when you’re sad, like when you watch them really sad films about the puppies or when you’re on the pitch sometimes–”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Leah interjects, before your daughter has any further chance to expose your wife for the softy that she really is, “I’m not sad, baby Gooner. I’m just so excited for you that you’re starting big school today. Are you excited?” She questions.

“Uh huh! I am so excited, I can’t wait to make lots of friends like uncle Jacob told me about!” Remi is vibrating with excitement, which is more than can be said about your wife.

“You’re going to make so many new friends!” You reassure your little girl with a proud smile on your face, “Alright, how about we take a picture for your first day of big school, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Remi jumps up and down in delight at the idea.

“Big smiles, Remi Roo!” You encourage as your daughter flashes you a gap-toothed smile from the tooth that she lost just the previous week.

You make it a whole family occasion with Esme toddling in to join in the photo opportunity and many snaps are taken amongst your little family of four, soon to be five.

“Perfect, baby girl!” You tell her, taking lots of pictures as you stare at them with a sense of nostalgia as all the sudden memories come to light of the several milestones Remi has achieved over the last 5 years, “You really are growing up, Remi Roo.”

“I don’t like it, it’s too many milestones at once,” Leah cracks under the pressure and shakes her head, wiping another stray tear away.

“Le,” Your facial expression softens as you wrap your arms around your wife to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Mummy!” Remi wraps her small arms around Leah’s legs, “Don’t be sad now! It’s gon’ be okay!”

“Me join!” Esme, not wanting to be left out, holds her hands up in the air for you to lift her up, “Mummy sad?” She asks, confused.

“A little bit,” You answer your youngest honestly.

“I make it better,” Esme declares, pressing a sloppy kiss on Leah’s cheek, “All better?”

“Much better, thank you Essie Bear,” Leah coos, returning a gentle kiss to Esme’s cheek.

“You can still cuddle me, even when I’m at big school!” Remi points out, peering up to look at your wife from where she’s stood, “It’s okay!”

“Oh, well in that case then I am definitely holding you to that,” Leah grins and scoops Remi up into her arms, “I’m gonna get in all the snuggles in that I can!” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“Alright, alright,” You break it up jokingly, “Let’s not smother her before she even makes it out the door for her first day.”

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” Leah tells you, pointing her index finger in your face, “This is a big moment today.” She adds, placing Remi back down on the floor.

You snicker in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Oh don’t I know it? Big bad scary Leah Williamson crying over her little girl’s first day at big school,” You pause, the smirk not leaving your face, “Gosh, what will the world think?”

Your wife glares at you and gently swats you, “Shut up, I’m allowed to be emotional today.”

“Uh huh, and what’s the reason for every other day then?” You can’t help but wonder with a shit eating grin on your face.

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes at your antics to wind her up.

“And I love you too,” You reply, pecking her on the lips, “You’re the lucky one that I put up with you being a blubbering mess every time Remi does something that’s deemed ‘too grown up’,” You remind her, amusedly.

“I’m emotional, okay?” Leah exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “She’s our eldest, our baby… Our baby Gooner!”

“You can’t call me that anymore, Mummy!” Your 5 year old points out, “I’m not a baby!”

Your wife pouts at your daughter's words and shakes her head, “You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get,” She pauses, “Even when you’re 30 and you have your own family.”

Remi wrinkles her face up in disgust, “Boys are yucky, I don’t want a boyfriend.” She states,

“And you’re definitely right to think that,” You chuckle amusedly as you gather your small family out of the door and make your way to your wife’s BMW, “I think if Mummy had her way, she wouldn’t let you date until you’re 25 at least.” You joke.

“I’m ready to go in!” Remi announces, standing outside of the school gates in a tone that sounds far more grown up than her 5 year old self, “I’m not scared.”

“It’s good to not be scared, you’re going to have so much fun!” You tell her, holding her hand and guiding her through the gates of the school while Leah follows behind holding Esme’s hand, “You’re going to smash it, baby girl!”

“And we’ll be right here to pick you up when the day is done, okay?” Leah reassures your daughter, catching up with your toddler, who likes to walk at her own pace.

“Okay!” Your eldest nods in agreement, bouncing on her toes as she carries her backpack that looks way too big for her.

“Rem! Rem!” Esme shouts to get her big sister’s attention, “Rem!”

“I’m going to big school, Bear,” Remi crouches down and wraps her arms around her little sister, “But I’ll see you when I’m home and tell you all about it!”

Watching the exchange between your daughters, makes your heart swell with pride and a touch of bittersweetness.

“Miss ‘ou, Rem,” Esme pouts, a little frown forming on her tiny face as her voice wobbles, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Miss you too, Bear,” Remi continues to squeeze her little sister tightly, “I’ll be back later though, don’t worry!” She adds with a smile that reveals her recently lost tooth.

“Come here, you,” Leah crouches down to your daughter’s level and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly as if to not let go and hold on to her forever, “I’m so proud of you, here at big school, eh?  You’re going to make so many friends and learn so much! Oh, and have a lot of fun as well!” She tells her.

“Mummy,” Remi attempts to wriggle away from your wife’s embrace, “You’re… You’re squeezing too tight.” She whines,

“I’m just soaking up the moment until you’re home from school,” Leah admits, pulling back and brushing a loose strand of hair behind Remi’s ear, “Big school, eh? I wish you would stop growing up so much on me, I don’t like it.” She jokes with her.

“You have to let me grow up, Mummy,” Remi’s giggle is infectious as she squeezes your wife again tightly, “I gots’ to go in now, but I’ll see you when you pick me up, remember?”

“We will be right here waiting for you,” You tell her, unable to crouch down properly with your swollen belly in the way, “We’re so proud of you, Remi Roo!” You add, kissing the top of her head.

You spot your daughters’ teacher making her way over to your family as she gives you both a kind smile, “Hi, Remi. Are you ready to go in?” She asks.

“Yes!” Remi excitedly replies, giving you both a final hug goodbye before she takes hold of her teachers’ hand and begins to walk in the building, “Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mumma! Bye, Bear!” She calls back, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Bye, baby Gooner,” Leah waved back, her voice catching slightly as you see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over again.

You can feel your own chest tightening as you force a smile and wave, “See you later, Remi Roo. Have the best day!”

“Bye-bye, Rem! Love you!” Esme clings to Leah’s leg, waving frantically.

“Save your tears for the car, Le,” You tease, taking note of your wife’s eyes, the tears are a lot more visible now, “I know it’s hard to watch her go in there, but it’ll be 3 o’clock before we know it.” You add, hoping that helps things a little better.

“I know,” Leah murmurs in agreement, walking round to the pre-school that Esme attended next to the school.

You can say that dropping Esme off to pre-school wasn’t too hard, although there were extra tight hugs given before your youngest daughter ran off inside without a care in the world.

Much to your wife’s disappointment, and you swear the tears threaten to spill again.

“At least we know what your weakness is now,” You joke, climbing back into the passenger seat of the car after dropping them both off, “It’s only a few hours, remember? It’ll be here before we know it.” You tell her.

Leah tries to laugh it off and shake her head as she climbs into the driver's seat, “Yeah, and to think I still have to go to training,” She pauses as wipes a visible tear away as she buckles her seatbelt in, “I wish I could just tell Jonas that we have a family emergency.” She tells you.

It’s at that moment, you completely freeze as you feel a sudden wet patch on your leather seat.

 “Um, Le,” You mumble, getting her attention as she fiddles with the dials of the car to find the right music playlist, “I think you might need to call Jonas and tell him that there’s a family emergency.” You say.

Leah turns towards you and looks confused, “Why’s that, love?” She wonders.

“Well, because I’m 99% sure that my waters have just broken,” You admit, gazing down to motion to the seat.

It takes literal seconds for your wife’s eyes to widen in shock, “What? Here? Now?” She rambles in a clear panic, “Seriously? Oh my God!”

“Don’t panic,” You murmur, trying to keep the situation calm despite your best efforts – Your wife is very much in a complete panic over this.

“I’m not… I’m not panicking,” Leah stutters her words as she runs her hand through her hair, “What'd we do? Do you feel like you have contractions? We need to get the hospital bag from the house!” She continues to ramble.

You shake your head in disagreement, “I don’t feel like there’s any currently,” You pause, “We’ll go home, stay there until they start and head to the hospital when it’s time, yeah?” You suggest, trying to keep calm in the situation despite the one being hours away from giving birth.

“O… Okay,” Leah swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, “We’ll go home, we’ll wait there– I need to call my Mum, she’ll need to pick the girls up.” She notes in realisation.

“Yeah, I somehow don’t think it’s going to be possible to be there for the 3 o’clock pick up after all,” You murmur, exhaling a sigh, “Little man has decided today’s the day to make his grand entrance into the world.”

Plans don’t always go as expected. You certainly didn’t expect to go into labour on the very same day that your eldest daughter started big school, but sometimes life takes you by complete surprise.

That day, life had a far bigger surprise than you or Leah could ever have imagined.

“This doesn’t feel right, you should be here,” Leah speaks aloud a few hours later, cradling your newborn son, Archie George Williamson at home  in her arms, knowing that you should be here to see this moment as well. 

His tiny breaths, soft and slow, his fingers curled into little fists – You’re not there to hold him yourself.

The labour had been far more complicated than anyone could have anticipated and you lost too much blood, and though they tried to save you, you never woke up after your son came into the world.

Leah's eyes are red from crying, but she’s holding herself together for the sake of the baby – For the sake of the three children that you’ve left behind while she strokes Archie’s head softly, “I hate that you aren’t here, I hate that my Mum had to pick Remi up on her first day," She murmurs, almost to herself, “We promised her we would both be there.”

The room feels empty without you, a hollow space where your laughter and warmth should be. Leah feels the ache of your absence in every corner, in every breath she takes.

“I hope you know how much your Mumma loved you already, little man,” The blonde whispers,  her heart breaking as she looks down at Archie, whose little face is scrunched up while he sleeps, “Believe me, she loved you so, so much from the minute we found out we were expecting you.”

As she takes a deep breath to steady herself, she continues to speak, “Our family might not be complete now, but you’re here, Archie Bug and we’ll make sure that you know all about her.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway as Amanda has brought Remi and Esme back from school. Leah wipes her eyes quickly, trying to put on a brave face as the door flies open.

“Mummy!” Remi shouts, her voice full of excitement, her hair now wild and free from it’s ponytail, running into the room with wide eyes, bright and full of curiosity, unaware of the loss that’s waiting to be explained.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Esme echoes, hot of her sister’s heels, her usual energetic self completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Shhh, girls,” Leah gently admonishes, holding up a finger to her lips, “We have to be quiet and use our inside voices.” She reminds them softly, her heart aching as she realises she’ll have to tell them soon.

Remi, always so observant, stops short and notices the bundle in Leah’s arms, but frowns when she doesn’t see you on the sofa like she thought she would, “Where’s Mumma?”

Leah’s smile falters, the weight of her grief momentarily overwhelming as she struggles to find the words, “Mumma… She’s not here anymore,” she says softly, her voice quivering.

Remi’s head tilts in confusion, not able to understand your wife’s words so much, “What do you mean, Mummy?” She asks as her eyes fix on Archie as she tiptoes over to Leah with exaggerated caution, “Is this him?”

“It is,” Leah responds, her voice trembling, “Girls, this is your baby brother, Archie.”

Esme’s face lights up with delight, “Baby?” She says, her voice high-pitched and curious, “My baby?” She asks.

“Your baby brother,” Leah corrects with a small, sad smile as she continues to hold Archie in her arms.

Amanda, who has walked through the house with Jacob, peers over to look at her new grandson, “He’s perfect, Bubba.” She says, sharing a sad smile with her daughter.

Jacob scoops Esme up into his arms to give her a better look at your newborn, “He’s very little still, Es, so you have to be very gentle with him.” He tells her.

Remi leans in closer, her little face filled with wonder, “He’s tiny, Mummy,” She reaches out, carefully touching Archie’s tiny hand, “He’s smaller than my dollies.”

Leah laughs softly, tears threatening again, “He is, isn’t he?” She pauses to settle Archie down in his Moses basket, “But he’ll grow up to be big and strong, just like you.”

Jacob sets Esme down next to Remi, watching the two girls stare at their brother in the Moses basket as Amanda takes the moment to wrap her arms around her daughter to comfort her.

Wanting to be brave for her children, Leah wipes away any visible tears and plasters on a fake smile as she looks in the direction of her daughters, “What do you think, Essie Bear?” She asks, catching the moment that Esme tries to reach out and poke Archie’s cheek gently, “Gentle, Essie.” She reminds her with a soft smile.

Archie just lets out a soft sigh but still remains asleep, already learning to find comfort in the noise around him.

“He likes it, Mummy,” Esme declares confidently, trying to reach out and poke him again.

“We have to be gentle with him, Es. He’s only little,” Leah tells her softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Remi glances up at Leah, “Mummy, will he like Arsenal, like you do?” She asks, curiously.

“I mean I hope so, but if not then that’s okay too,” Leah answers honestly, pushing past the weight in her chest, “Just as long as he doesn’t follow uncle Jacob and support Spurs.” She jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite how heartbroken she feels inside.

“Of course you just had to get in there, didn’t you?” Jacob rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“What? We’re a family full of Gooners in this house,”  Leah shrugs, trying to hold onto the joy in the room, “Just as long as all 3 of my kids are happy then that’s all that matters to me now.”

“Can I hold him, Mummy? Please?” Remi leans in closer, looking at Leah with those big, hopeful eyes that match her own.

Leah nods with a smile that almost feels real, “Okay, Rem, but you have to sit down and be very still, okay?” She instructs gently.

Remi eagers nods and hops onto the chair beside the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she waits in anticipation to hold Archie. Leah gently lifts the sleeping baby from his Moses basket, cradling his body with steady hands, though her heart feels anything but, as she slowly places him into Remi’s waiting arms.

“Hi, Archie,” Remi’s face lights up with pure delight, her grin stretching from ear to ear as she cradles her baby brother with such tender care in the world, “I’m Remi, I’m your big sister and I love you lots!” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“He loves you lots too, Rem,” Leah whispers back, her voice breaking just a little, how she wishes you were to see this, to be part of this moment.

“My turn next!” Esme declares, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek over Remi’s shoulder, “My turn!” She repeats, a little too loud as Leah quickly hushes her with a finger to her lips.

“Soon, Essie Bear,” Leah promises, brushing a hand through Esme’s curly hair, “Remi’s just having a cuddle first, see?”

Esme nods eagerly, her face scrunched up in concentration as she watches her sister carefully, “Okay, I wait,” She whispers, “He’s cute, Mummy.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Leah agrees, her smile wobbly but genuine as she looks down at Archie before leaning down to kiss the top of Esme’s head, “He looks just like you when you were born as well. Tiny and perfect.”

As Leah watches her three children, she feels the weight of your absence, an ache that will never fully leave but she knows that no matter what, she needs to be strong for them now. Making sure that they never forget you, she will keep your memory alive in every way that she can.

Because even though you’re not here, your love is and Leah will make sure that’s enough.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[wolfiesmoon]

A day to remember

Inumaki x gn!reader

this is a request!! thank u so much for requesting💗anyways time for jujutsu tech prom hehe😌 (lets pretend prom is a thing in japan and that there's actually enough students to do a cute thing like this lmaoo)

also since this is a prom fic, the second years are now third years and the first years are second years

@noomon one tag for uuuuu

The atmosphere was oddly lovey-dovey at Jujutsu Tech recently. Prom was just around the corner, so it wasn't exactly odd that spirits were high, but considering the usually grim faces that you see in the halls of the school, it does feel strange to see everyone so excited.

Then again, you suppose it is better to make the most of every day as a sorcerer and little joys like this are precisely what make all the death and injury worth it.

But, on the topic of prom... You don't know who to go with! You might just end up skipping out or going alone if you must (Gojo will probably force you to go). After all, prom isn't all about dancing with a guy and romantic stuff, it's about having fun with your friends and laughing at the memories you made as students of this school.

Or, well, for this kind of school, maybe some of the memories are better forgotten.

"Hey, senpai!" you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Yuuji and Nobara! They often come to talk to you about random things so you aren't at all surprised to see them.

"Hello." you greet them, wondering what crazy story they'll tell you today.

"Do you already have a date for prom?" Yuuji and Nobara beamed.

"Do I- No, no I don't." that's the question you were expecting the least. Why are they asking you this anyways?

"Great." Nobara huffed, very satisfied with your answer. Yuuji seemed even more excited than before. You had little question marks floating above your head.

"Why are you happy about me being single? Are you two trying to tell me something?" your eyebrows furrowed slighly. But then again, Nobara and Yuuji are idiots (affectionately), so you don't think they're seriously trying to insult you.

"Oh, actually, it's because-"

Nobara slapped a hand over Yuuji's mouth before he could continue his sentence. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." she smiled at you, dragging Yuuji away and muttering something you couldn't quite catch.

Huh. How strange.

But now that you think about it, there is one person you'd really like to go to prom with.

.

The next day, Panda approaches you after class.

"Hey, you should like, totally follow after me right now. I have something to show you." Panda suggested cheerfully. And why not? Knowing Panda, he probably just has something funny or stupid to show you, which is always a pleasure.

As you followed him, a strange feeling started rising up inside you. You felt oddly fidgety and excited. Maybe it was the whole prom thing. I mean, with the strange conversation you had with the second years just yesterday is it that much of a stretch to assume that you're about to get confessed to via a prom invitation?

Nah, you shouldn't get ahead of yourself. If anything, Panda's going to let you in on someone else's promposal plan so you can help them out. Not that that's a bad thing, you just really get your hopes up sometimes.

You were being lead down a dimly lit hallway in one of the more secluded areas of the school. There was even candles here and there, to set the mood, you assume. Wow, this is really a last minute invitation. They're asking you to help out at the last possible moment, huh?

You soon found yourself in front of a group of students, all lined up to make a little walkway for you and Panda. Panda stops right at the end of the line, motioning for you to continue walking. All the other third years lined up were smiling knowingly at you. What in the world is going on?

You walked down the line of students a bit hesitantly, taking the flowers each of them handed you along the way. Oh wow, this is impressive. And also definitely means that this promposal is meant for you. You can feel your heart start beating faster with excitement when taking each rose into your hands.

Who orchestrated a confession so grand? Please be him...

Nobara handed you a rose when you walked by her, smiling proudly at you. Now the question from yesterday makes perfect sense.

At the end of the line of students, you saw a few of your classmates holding up signs that said "I know I'm not a man of many words, but I really need you to kelp me out here. It's almost prom night and you're still not together with me (which is criminal in my opinion). This isn't just a prom invitation, by the way. Will you go out with me tunaight?"

There's only one person that could have written those signs. Not just because of the familiar handwriting, but also because of the words he chose. And sure enough, Inumaki Toge was proudly holding up the middle sign, looking at you.

You clutched the makeshift boquet of roses in your hand. It was him after all.

In all three years of your schooling at JJT, you've found Inumaki Toge to be especially charming. You had a bit of trouble talking to him at first, but you quickly got along after you bridged the whole "onigiri ingredient" gap. Honestly, you don't know how long it's been since you felt... a special way about him.

It took you a while to realise, but you definitely like him. More than a friend.

And knowing it's mutual...

He looked at you with such hope in his eyes that it made you want to hug him and kiss him all over. And so you did.

The sign he was holding fell to the ground as you embraced him tightly and he immediately hugged you back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to him. As if that is the place where you belong.

"Yes, yes, I'll go to prom with you!" you yelled happily, leading everyone around you to cheer. You didn't really notice it because you were busy kissing Inumaki's cheeks, but all the other third years looked satisfied, knowing their ship has sailed at long last.

"But bad onigiri ingredient puns, really? I'm feeling the second hand embarrasment real hard right now." your face scrunched up slightly, cringing.

He simply giggled quietly in response, squeezing you again.

You can't deny, that is so him.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

visiting König's humble abode

(MDNI, cw: talking about not wanting to have children)

the part before: sending him a naughty pic (nsfw)

The whole day long, there is this certain pep in my step. The knowledge that I did something a little dirty… the pics we sent back and forth… and the promise that I’m gonna see him again in just a few hours has me on cloud nine. My cheeriness caught on and one of my colleagues even asked me what had gotten into me, and I just shrugged it off, still not able to hide the grin that’s adorning my face.

When I get home from work, I pack a small bag of the bare minimum I need, in case this is a sleepover kind of situation – which I am kind of hoping for, not gonna lie, then I wait for him on the curb in front of the apartment complex again. Just like yesterday.

His car drives down the street and just seeing it, makes me grin from ear to ear again. It feels familiar by now, waiting for him to pick me up – even though this is just the third time. Today is a little bit different from yesterday. I don’t feel any of the tensity when he stops the car right in front of me. He looks like a dream, in the simple black shirt, that hugs his tattooed biceps just right, unintentionally showing them off when his arm reaches back behind the passenger seat, as he waits for me to enter.

A light blush creeps up my cheeks, when my mind comes back to what we did in the backseat. And then I also think about our long… conversation this morning. The pics of him. The…

My thoughts get pulled away when his face lights up in a smile, the seriousness vanishing as the corners of his mouth turn up. His brows not quite so furrowed anymore. The laughlines around his eyes highlighting the spark in them. Which makes the big scary looking guy not look scary at all. I realise that I’m mirroring his joyful expression – and yeah, the sex has been really fucking great so far, but more than that: I’m just happy to see him again.

I get in the car, greeting him with a simple “Hi”, leaning forward to give him a kiss while I drop my bag on the floor between my feet. He grabs me, his hand spanning across my throat, his thumb and pointer gently digging into my jaw. He pulls me into him, pressing his lips to mine, hot and heavy, his tongue stroking against mine, tasting me. His hold on me is still soft, but the way he just grabbed me… A hint of possessive. Needy. Almost desperate. And I answer his kiss with the same frenzy.

When he lets go of me, I’m panting and a little dizzy, it honestly could have been minutes or just seconds. I don’t think anybody ever kissed me like this. And I want him to do it all again. Preferably while he’s buried deep inside me.

“Hi.”, he says back, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a smirk. The hazy feeling dissipates and I recognize the band that’s playing on the car’s speakers.

“Oh, you finally listened to Sleep Token!”, I exclaim. It is one of the bands I told him to listen to because they have been consistently on the top of my list this last year.

“I did.”, he says, while he pulls out of the driveway.

“And how do you like them?”, I ask, a bit nosy.

He shrugs. “They’re nice and chill, I guess.” He smiles at me, a little sparkle of amusement in the corner of his eyes. “Although I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you like ‘em so much, they’re much ‘softer’ than the stuff you usually listen to.” which has me giggling a little bit.

“That might be true.”, I chuckle. “I can’t explain it either, but the lyrics and everything just has me in a chokehold.”

The last beats of ‘Vore’ fade out and ‘Sugar’ starts playing, the sultry voice and the soft sounds filling the car and I grin to myself.

“You know what they jokingly call that genre?”, I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No, I don't.”

“Baby making metal.” The grin that adorns my cheeks is almost bigger than my face.

He shoots me a look, half amusement, half serious contemplation. “But what if you’re not making babies?”, he finally asks.

I furrow my brows, but my grin stays on, albeit not being as wide anymore. “Well, it’s supposed to be a joke, like tongue-in-cheek, you know because the music is all sensual and sexy. Like not actually making babies, you know, I wouldn’t even want t-”, I break off, biting my tongue.

Silence engulfs us for just a moment, a moment where we both seem to contemplate what to say now.

“I actually got a prescription for taking the pill.”, I tell him then. Called my gynecologist during lunchbreak and picked them up on my way home.

He whips his head in my direction, to look at me. “Why- but- I'm not gonna be on leave for that much longer, we-”, he stumbles through three possible answers at the same time.

“Don't worry about it, it was my decision.”, I explain, a lopsided grin on my face, because I maybe could have brought it up another way.

His eyes dart to me for another quick look. “I see. What made you uh- decide that?”, he wants to know, friendly curiosity in his voice.

“If something happens, like the condom breaks – which is a possibility –, we still have a failsafe. All the fun of ‘making babies’ without making actual babies.”, I joke, feeling a bit uneasy underneath the grin on my face, because talking about babies with the guy you just started sleeping with is… well, let’s just say, there are more comfortable subjects. But when my eyes are drawn to him again, seeing how relaxed he seems now, it puts me at ease as well.

He smiles at me again. “I can understand that.”, he says.

Another silence, the music still softly playing. The silences with him are not uncomfortable, I mean, they never have been so far, and there were quite some when we went to the concert in the beginning of the week. The moments when I thought I had already talked to much, even if he was content just listening to me, because he’s not a big talker.

So, I’m a bit surprised when he starts to speak again first.

“So… and you don’t have to answer, of course, if that’s too personal of a question. You don't want any children … ever?”, he asks, his soft voice bringing a lightness to the question.

“I don’t really want any ever, yeah.”, I answer assertively, shrugging at the same time. “Not in this life.”

I look to the side, at him. Thinking that he might say something along those lines of 'oh, you're gonna change your mind when you're older'. The same shit I always hear. ‘You’re still young, just wait a few years.’

But he doesn't. "I see.", is all he comments.

I’m still looking at him, not able to hide my surprise, but I don’t actually say anything.

"What? You're not gonna have me argue against that.", he mutters, and I can feel the moment of hesitation before he continues speaking: "I don't feel like my job is really compatible with a partner and family." and sighs and shrugs. "So, I came to terms with never having one quite some time ago." He turns to look at me. "I understand, as somebody who had a hard time explaining that to his own family, and I'm just a man."

I sigh as well. “Yeah, but it is what it is. It’s not their life after all.”

He smiles at me, the smile only barely reaching his eyes, something I’ve never seen from him before. “That’s right.”

I clasp my hand over his that’s holding the gearshift, caressing it for a bit. He lifts it and squeezes my fingers softly, a little reassuring gesture.

“We’re almost there.”, he says, smiling a little more relaxed again.

I knew he couldn't live too far away from me because he never takes long to get to my apartment. I’ve been watching the way he drove us, surprised when he took a few turns that lead to the outskirts of the city. And when he tells me that we’re there soon, I look out the window more intently, almost pressing my face up against the cool glass to see better, missing some light because of the darkening sky.

Little patches of forest, few fields in between, and a single road that passes his house. No neighbors in sight.

My jaw drops when I see it. It's not a big house by any means, but it has a facade that seems to be from the last century at least. Simple frescoes adorn the top of every single window, up until the round one right under the dark tiled roof. Ivy ranks up the whole right side of the grey painted walls.

I don't know what I expected. Same like with his car. Seeing the house now makes so much sense, but if you had asked me before, I probably would have guessed he had a modern, but simple three-room-apartment. Not a house with a white-picket-fence and a little garden, leading further into a small patch of green woodland.

He opens up the garage door with the push of a button and parks the car in there. I get out, not waiting for him to open the door for me, looking around all nosy. The garage has a little workshop and some gardening tools. Another set of tires for his car. And something else hidden away under some tarp. Wheels peaking out at the bottom that kind of look like they belong to … a bike?

I hear the cardoor shut and his steps when he approaches me. "That is the door that leads inside.", he tells me, gesturing in the direction. A grin adorns his face. "If you wanna take a look." And he knows my nosy ass enough to know, that I sure as shit want to.

I nod – more excited than I should be – and push through it, entering the main part of the house. I kick off my shoes, leaving them right there, beside the entrance door.

The corridor is plain white, a singular lamp lighting it up, a simple sidetable on the right side, a wall mounted rack with his jackets, although it’s half empty, and a rack for the shoes underneath.

I run by a kitchen, with white cabinets and grey marble worktops. A cooking island in the middle of the room. A big ass fridge, even though he lives alone. I guess it takes a lot of food to keep his physique up.

I head a little further down the hallway, until I reach the centerpiece of the house.

The living room surprisingly bright for all the dark furniture that’s placed inside. Curtains hang in front of the huge windows, pulled to the side, letting in lots of light and showing off the little garden outside. A door leads out to the patio.

A big black couch, with soft looking cushions. A simple end table and a lamp beside it.

A tiled fireplace on the one wall, stairs leading both upstairs and downstairs in the corner of the room.

But there is one thing that pulls my attention.

I’m completely mesmerized by the wall of books in front of me, spanning from one side to the other. I look at the whole shelf, every single row of books. In between, there is some open space with a TV hanging from the wall and quite a huge soundsystem on the wooden furniture. On the lower shelfs beneath, there is a plethora of vinyls, some seeming pretty old, others are obviously newer, and also CDs like the ones in his car.

I go back over the books, my fingers brushing over their backs as I read the titles and authors. Lots of classic horror and thrillers like ‘The Shining’, books in German that I can’t pronounce, even though I recognise the name Goethe, but also Sunzi’s ‘The Art of War’. Some books on philosophy and technical handbooks. But most of it is entertainment literature.

“I read a lot when I’m on leave.”, he explains, which makes me look back at him. He’s leaning in the door frame, a door frame he doesn’t even really fit in. The signature black jeans, a simple black shirt that hugs his biceps with the way he has his arms crossed in front of his chest. His hair hanging down to the side, the tips of it grazing over the tattooed skin, when he moves his head talking. My god, can he stop being this attractive?

“I can see that. I’m quite jealous of your collection, to be honest.”, I say.

“You can borrow any of them, if you’d like.”, he offers.

“Really?!”, I exclaim excitedly, already inspecting the rows for some fitting subjects, but my eyes dart back to him. Waiting for an answer.

He shrugs, but the little smile on his lips stays on. “Yes, I mean I have read most of them, I guess they deserve to be read by somebody else as well.” That little piece of information gives so much about him away. He lives here alone – at least staying here when he is on leave – and he must stay alone most of the time. With what I know now, that he hasn’t really been dating the last few years and that he doesn’t plan on having a partner… It feels so contradictory to the house that is too big for one person, even for a giant like him. What about his friends though? He surely got friends that come over from time to time, no?

I turn back to the books, a simple “Okay” on my lips, not knowing what else to say, the familiar feeling tensing up my shoulders, while I still search for some I’d actually want to read.

His eyes are on me the whole time, just watching, observing, what I’m doing. I can feel them on my backside, trailing down my whole body, and I’m a bit self-conscious that I only put on simple leggings and an oversized shirt, even though it’s a cute one. After my special outfit choice at the concert, I didn’t want to keep up any unrealistic expectations, and this is what I would have worn visiting somebody on any other Friday. It isn’t a date, technically, he just asked if he could “kidnap” me, so… I still hope, he thinks it’s cute.

I pull out books that sound interesting, some familiar, some not so much. Until I have a pile of them in my grasp, Jules Verne’s ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas’ right at the top.

“I’ll read through them a bit later and then choose which to take with me, okay?”, I reassure myself with six books on my arm, looking at the big guy still only standing there.

“Sure, take whatever you like, Kleine.”, and the expression on his face lets me believe for just a second, that he might mean more than just his books. I ignore the tingle that rolls down my spine, as I set them down on the end table next to the couch.

My eyes find him again, darting to the stairs leading up. “So…” I sway from one foot to another, while a little bratty smile plays around the corners of my mouth. “You got a bedroom in your abode as well?”

His gaze darkens in an instant, the soft smile turning into that damned smirk that makes my knees weak, but there is also some reprimand in his look. He pushes himself off the doorframe, stalking closer with slow, big strides. “I do indeed have a bedroom.”, he answers, his voice a tad deeper than before.

I grin at him, feeling like red riding hood coaxing the big bad wolf. “You wanna show me ooor…?”, I continue. The tension between us flurries through the air, I can almost feel the moment of suspension prickling at my fingertips, before I dart away and he leaps forward, catching up to me in just two quick steps.

He grabs me, which makes me squeal and giggle, and throws me over his shoulder. I wriggle in his hold on me, playfully straining against his arm securing me there, but it’s futile anyways. “Stop it, Fräulein.”, he grunts, slapping my ass – once – with his other hand. I yelp again, but a bright grin stalks onto my lips as I tease him with a “Yes sir”, that earns me another spank.

next part: hanging off König's shoulder or more Stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: thanks for tuning into this plot part of the pwp - the other p will follow... uni in january is kicking my butt, so bear with me, the next five parts are already in the works - "just" need to finish them (will take more time)🫠 i might also post some more random scenes, that don't fit the plot right now - or possibly never - that are just sitting in my drafts and thanks for reading, as always <3 (it makes my day to see names coming back everytime c':)

[samiswifey]

First Days Are Always Tough

Parings: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: it's that time of the month for Sam and she's been feeling very emotional and needy recently. Her emotions are all over the place right now and all she wants is to end her day with you holding her in your arms.

Waking up early in the morning with a pain in her stomach Sam was less than enthusiastic to know that she had started her period. She was very thankful that today was her day off from work so she could just lay in bed and hopefully relax. She was thinking of maybe inviting you over to spend the day with her.

Getting back in bed Sam got no more than three more hours of sleep before she was being woken up by the twins and Tara making breakfast in the kitchen. With a Huff Sam climbed out of bed, put her robe on and shuffled into the kitchen. The first thing she noticed right away was the pile of dishes gathered in the sink that she knew she would have to clean. The next was the smell of several burnt pancakes sitting in the trash. And the third thing was the batter all over the count and stove and Chad. What the hell happened in here?

"What happened in here?" Sam asked.

Tara smiles at her and holds a plate out to her. "Since your day was so bad yesterday the twins and I decided to make you breakfast." She said proudly. "It was supposed to be in bed but you kind of ruined that." Mindy jokes. Chad cut his eyes at her before looking back at Sam. "We hope this makes up for the bad day you had yesterday."

Pulling into the driveway you grabbed the bag and your things before walking up to the front door and knocking twice before entering the apartment. "Sam, sweetheart are you awake? I brought the cookies that you wanted." You called out as you walked further into the apartment.

Sam emerged from her room with a tired smile on her face as she greets you with a hug and a kiss before taking the cookies. Unfortunately after taking a bit she realized that she no longer wanted these. They didn't taste like they did when she had them the first time and now she's just bitterly disappointed by the cookies she once loved.

"What's wrong?" You asked. "Is everything ok?"

Sam shakes her head as she hands you back the cookies. "They don't taste right and I really don't want them anymore." She said softly. You tilted your head in confusion because just yesterday she was raving about these cookies and how much she was craving them and now she doesn't want them. This was familiar.

"Did you start your period today?" You asked quietly.

Sam both loved and hated how much you knew her. "It woke me up and my whole plan was to lay in bed and just watch cheesy movies and relax." She said. You gave her your nervous eyes and Sam immediately knew something was up. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?" She asked.

"We have that... Thing tonight." You said quickly.

Sam was confused for a second before remembering what she had agreed to a month ago. "Can't we reschedule?" She asked. You gave her a look as you shook your head. "Babe it's her birthday. Of course we can't reschedule." You said. Sam sighs "there goes my day of relaxation

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

Knowing that she had to go one when her emotions were all over the place put Sam in a very bitter mode. She didn't want to go out but she made a promise to you and she knew she couldn't go back on it. However that didn't stop her from feeling horrible right now. Her period was absolutely draining her and she really just wanted to crawl back in bed and sleep until she had to get up for work at two tomorrow. Unfortunately sleep will have to wait until she gets back.

"Y/N you have to check this out!"

Sitting on the couch Sam couldn't stop herself from glaring at her own sister. She hated how Tara was hanging on to you and even though she knew she was being irrational she couldn't stop the feeling of jealousy creeping up on her. She was not looking forward to going out right now.

The drive to the restaurant had Sam extremely irritated with everyone in the back seat. She hated the conversation, the loudness and the off key singing that was happening. She couldn't find the fun in any of this and she was ready to put the car over, get out and walk home. She was completely done with this

"You guys are just on time! We've ordered drinks." Kirby said when she greets you guys.

You smiled as you took your seat next to Sam. "We wouldn't miss it." You said. "Happy birthday."

With everyone wishing Kirby a happy birthday Sam sulked back still hating the fact that she was here and not in her cozy bed watching random movies while eating something sweet and salty. She was about to have the worst night ever because of the mood she was in.

As the conversation at the table heated up Sam found herself getting more and more irritated as the time slowly ticked away. She wanted to get up and leave but she also didn't want to be rude to Kirby. She likes Kirby and she really didn't want to hurt her feelings, but right now she, in no way, wants to be here. She wants to be home and in her bed watching movies with you. That's all she wants right now.

When the food arrived Sam immediately regretted her choice of a burger and fries. It looked so good before but now that it's in front of her she didn't want it. She huffed and crossed her arms as she thought about what she wanted to do about her current situation. She could push the plate away but that would draw attention to her not liking what she got. So to avoid that she decided to take small bites of the fries and cut the burger in fours to make it easier to eat. This should get people to not notice that she didn't like what she got.

"Y/N you have to show Kirby that video from yesterday!"

There it was again. The feeling of jealousy and Sam hated it because she had no reason to be jealous of Tara or Kirby but she really couldn't help it. Every time she saw either of them touching you or hugging you she hated it and began rolling her eyes at the interaction between you and the girls. She was beyond annoyed at everything.

Noticing how irritated Sam was you moved closer to her and gently held her hand. "Baby is everything ok? Did you want something else?" You whispered. Sam immediately softened at your touch as she sighed. "No, I'm just going to take it home and have it for lunch." She said. You could tell that was a lie and without people noticing you switched plates with Sam and kissed her cheek before sitting back in your seat.

Sam literally could have cried at what you just did for her but she wasn't in the mood to explain why she was crying so she held back her tears. However her heart was soaring at the fact that you just knew her so well. You knew that she was unhappy with her meal and you switched with her without her even asking. It was a small gesture but it was things like that, that made her fall in love with you. She really loves you.

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

As the dinner slowly came to an end the group left the restaurant and decided that it would be a good idea to have a night on the town with the birthday girl but Sam really wasn't feeling that. She didn't want to go to a place where there would be people who would just get on her nerves. That was not in her nightly plans.

"So what do you say Y/N? Wanna head out?" Mindy asked.

You thought for a second but shook your head. "I actually think I'm gonna head home with Sam. Might watch a movie together." You said. The group nodded at that before bidding you and Sam goodbye and heading off to wherever they were going.

You looked at Sam and took her hand as you smiled. "So what do you say? Wanna watch a movie and eat something salty and sweet?" You asked. Sam smiles at you and nodded. "I would love that."

A/N: this was requested to me a few days ago and I hope I did a good job and I really hope you like it.

[livefastdrivefaster]

We Aren't Friends | LN4

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pairing: Lando x Fem!Driver

Summary: Finding out what Lando really thinks about you.

Word count: 1.7k words

Note: This is the first thing I've ever written so I hope it's not completely awful! Bit of fluff (some angst and swearing).

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Media duties were one of the most tedious parts about your job as a Formula One driver. Every race week, you were forced into doing hundreds of interviews, shuttled in front of one camera and then another. Today was a driver’s panel, and there were a select few of you in a room full of reporters waiting to ask questions. You sat on the edge of the stage, with Alex, Zhou, Lando and Valtteri filling the remaining seats. 

“Let’s open up to the floor for questions.” The host of the session states. 

Instantly, every reporter shoots their hand into the air, starting their voice memos, checking through their notes. Just as the actual racing is competitive, the media around Formula One is especially cutthroat. You need to fight for attention in these types of events. One woman in the second row stands out in particular, and the host singles her out to ask the first question. 

“My question is for Ms Y/L/N.” The reporter states. You lean forward in your chair, smiling at the woman. Reporters often direct their questions to specific drivers, and you were frequently asked questions about your experience being a female driver, or something similar to that general theme.

“In Formula One, they say the higher you rise, the sharper the knives. As your car is particularly competitive this year, have you found that rivalries with other drivers are also being felt off the track?”  It was an interesting question. It was true that politics were constantly rife in the paddock, but you never felt that scrutiny on a personal level. You smiled politely, and held the microphone to your mouth to answer the question. 

“I wouldn’t say so, no. It’s easy to think that with the amount of drama that happens during the races, it will follow us to the paddock. But in the end we are professionals, and we can handle the competitiveness maturely. Even with my toughest rivalries, I can assure you we are friends off track.” You smile, setting down the microphone to signal you had finished talking. 

There were murmurs of agreement in the audience, and your fellow drivers on stage nodded to affirm your statement.

“But,” the woman starts again, “currently, there is a battle between you and Lando Norris for third in the driver’s championship.” 

You nod, staring expectantly at the woman, wondering where she is going with this. 

“Yesterday in an interview with Sky Sports, he went on record to say,” she paused to look at her notes, before saying “‘With Y/N Y/L/N, I wouldn’t say what we have is a friendship, no.’” She finished. 

You feel your heart breaking into pieces.

“Really?” you ask, genuinely surprised. You look over to Lando across from you, noticing how he isn’t even looking back at you. He’s staring at his shoes, motionlessly. He couldn’t even look at you.

“Right… noted.” You finish, voice laced with venom.

Another reporter stands up.

“What do you think about that, Y/N?” He asks. 

You quickly snap out of your intense stare at Lando, turning to face the reporter on the other side of the room. 

“Well,” you say, forcing a laugh to diffuse the tension in the room “my feelings are hurt.” You shrug, maintaining a fake smile for the cameras. Thankfully, the room doesn’t linger on the moment for long, the host moving onto a new question.

You slouched in your chair, wishing you could just melt away to nothing. Your cheeks were burning a shameful red, which you hoped wouldn’t show up on the hundreds of pictures that are currently being taken of you. 

“Not friends?” The question swirled in your mind, plaguing your every thought. You couldn’t understand why Lando would say that about you. Everything seemed fine between the two of you. You never argue, you hang out whenever you can. And when you can’t, you’re texting or FaceTiming each other. You just didn’t get it. 

The rest of the room blurred in your periphery as you played with your hands in your lap. You felt a burning sensation in your eyes as tears threatened to fall down your face. But just as quick as the tears formed, they were quickly washed away by a strong sensation of anger taking over your body. All the time you spent together meant nothing to him. 

What a dick. 

___

As soon as the host called the session over, you put your microphone down and got up to leave. You were the first to go, storming out of the room as elegantly as you could. You exited into a service corridor, knowing that you could sneak around any media personnel looking for more questions from you here. 

“Y/N!” You hear a voice call from behind you. It was Lando. 

“Y/N!” He calls again, footsteps picking up in speed as he races to get to you. 

When he catches you, he gently takes your wrist, using the motion to turn you around to face him. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. About what happened back there, I’m sorry she embarrassed you like that.” He said breathlessly

“Oh, she was the one who embarrassed me?” You spat at Lando

“It was out of context, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” He said, desperately trying to reason with you

“Then why didn’t you say something? You just sat there, staring at your feet.” You shot back at him

“I should’ve.” He sighed, searching your eyes for forgiveness.

“Oh. So you’re not only not my friend, you’re also spineless. Good to know, Lando.” You reply, shaking your wrist from his grip. 

Lando stands there, dumbfounded, watching your figure retreat down the hall. He wants nothing more than for you to look back at him, just for a moment, just to see your face. But you won’t, and the noise of the exit door slamming behind you snaps him out of his stare. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” He whispers to himself. 

_____

Throughout the rest of the weekend, Lando tried desperately to get you to notice him. He would watch you longingly as you fulfilled media duties, got in your car, out of your car, walked around the paddock, took pictures with fans. He would appear randomly while you were eating, or taking a break. He would include himself in conversations you were apart of. 

You rebuffed each of his attempts for attention with an incredibly polite cold shoulder. You were hurt, and he actually hadn’t apologised to you yet. He had texted you a few times asking to talk, but this race was too important to focus on resolving petty drama. You’d call him once it was all over. Maybe. 

Well, that’s what you had been telling yourself all weekend. But now it really was over, and you still hadn’t called him. 

The good thing about racing in Monaco was that you could actually sleep in your own apartment during the weekend, which was a rare and welcomed occasion. It was late, but you couldn’t sleep, your mind coming back to Lando every time you tried to close your eyes. It felt weird not talking to him, you kept each other sane during times like these. But now he wasn’t here for you, as he had been for so long, and you felt like a piece of you was missing. 

As you crawled out of bed to watch something on TV, you heard a sharp knocking at your door. You were hoping it was just someone at the wrong door, until you heard the knocking again. It was more desperate now, the rhythm becoming more sloppy. 

“Hello?” You called out, receiving more knocking as a response. 

You mutter obscenities to yourself as you put on more appropriate clothing, and trudge to the door annoyed. 

“Yes?” You say, swinging open the door.

It was Lando. He looked dishevelled. His curls were tousled and his eyes had deep bags underneath them. They were slightly puffy, as if he’d been crying. 

“Y/N, I can’t do this.” He exclaimed, stumbling into your apartment. You let him in, closing the door behind him. 

“Can’t do what Lando?” You ask, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I can’t fight with you like this. I can’t not talk to you, I can’t be apart from you.” He stumbles over his words, and you see his eyes well up with tears. You instantly soften your gaze, pulling your arms from their defensive position.  “Lando…” Your voice trails off. You take his hand in yours and lead him to your couch to sit down. Even when you are both comfortable, he doesn’t let go.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I was so stupid in that interview, I got way too carried away with what I was saying.” He says slowly.

“What were you even trying to say, Lando?” You ask gently, appreciating finally receiving an apology from him. 

“Well- I meant what I said. What we have. It isn’t really a friendship, is it?” He responds, voice gaining confidence. 

“Something less?” You question, and he smiles in disbelief. 

“Something more, Y/N. We are so much more than friends.” You sit back in your seat, but he moves closer to you. 

“What- what do you mean?” You hesitate, watching Lando’s warm brown eyes glimmer in the moonlight. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

Something inside you clicked. All these years, there was an electricity between the two of you. You never let yourself think that way about him, worrying how a relationship with him would affect your career. But right now, you don’t care. You just want him. 

You didn’t say anything, but leaned towards him. He leaned in further, gently cupping one hand around the side of your face, and placing the other arm around your waist to anchor himself. His broad figure covered you completely, and you closed eyes while trying not to smile. His lips were so soft against yours, the scent of his cologne making you feel dizzy. His body felt warm as he pressed his torso against yours. You bucked your hips up, making him groan against you. He pulled his hand up, running his fingers through your hair as he moved down to kiss your neck and collarbones. You giggled at the tickling sensation, and he tentatively pulled away from you, taking a chance to fully admire your face. 

“I like this way more than being friends.”

[selfloverrrrrr]

The College Incident

Warning: dark content, smut, heavy smut, nipple play, noncon, teasing, jealousy, yandere

Part-2

Masterlist

( All characters are aged up/ 18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read those warnings carefully........if you don't like my stories block me not report.....

I was a second year student. My college life was going well. I mean what else you need for a good college life? My studies were going well, I have good friends. What else I need.

In college I have two female friends. Shoko and Mei Mei. They were like my bestfriends. I shared everything with them and they shared everything with me. I loved them so much. We were BFF. But they weren't my only friends. Gojo and Geto was also my friends. They were also my close friends.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were the most famous boys in our college. They were very well-known in our college for their charms. All girls were ready to throw their body to them. But they didn't give a fuck. Those girls were jealous of us three girls because Gojo and Geto were close friends of us.

But the thing noone knew was Gojo Satoru has a crush on me. Oh no... that's not a crush that's obsession. He was obsessed with me. Always stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me at college. But he never let anyone notice that.

We all lived in the college hostel. The hostel was huge. That has five floors. Geto and Mei Mei's room were in the first floor. Mine and gojo's one was on the third floor and Shoko's one was on the fourth floor.

One day at college me, Shoko and Mei Mei were gossiping together. We were telling each other who was our crush and our dirtiest fantasy about them. But what we didn't notice that Gojo was listening us. Geto didn't came college that day. "Aww... that was hot" shoko said to Mei Mei. Mei Mei laughed. " And you y/n ?... You are just listening us tell us about yours one.." Mei Mei said with a smirk. "M-me?" I asked. " Yes you~" Shoko said. "Okey....but promise me that you won't tell anyone." I said. " We promise" they said together.

"okey... it's..." I said " it's?" Both of them spoke together. " G-Geto" I replied with a blush. " Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" they teased me. " S-stop doing that" I replied. " Stop? You didn't tell us about your dirtiest fantasy about him" shoko said with a smirk. I blushed so hard. " Come on... tell us...we did too" Mei Mei said. " It's BDSM..." I said and looked away. They started teasing me.

And there was Gojo behind us. Who's blood was boiling in rage. He broke his pencil in his hand from the anger. ' Suguru,huh? You want him? What a shame!... And what did you just say about your fantasy? BDSM, huh? I'm gonna show you what BDSM actually is.... hope you can handle it~' Gojo thought to himself with a smirk.

The classes end I was packing my thighs in my bag when Utahime called me. " Hey...y/n?" She said. " Yeah?" I replied. " I was asking can I get your note book please?... I have to write down yesterday's notes...." She said. " Yeah sure...but geto has my note book... I'm gonna take it from him today... I'll give you tomorrow." I replied her. " Ohhh okeyyyy... thank you " she said and walked away. When I turned to the door I saw Shoko and Mei Mei smirking at me. " Can you guys please stop!!!" I scremed with blushing.

Gojo heard my and Utahime's conversation. ' that's the chance ' he thought to himself and ran out of the campus before us. He went to geto's room and knocked on the door. Geto opened the door. " Oh Satoru... Supp?" Geto said. " Nothing much just....do you have y/n's note book?" Gojo asked. " Yeah I do" Geto replied. " Can you give me it?... I'm gonna give it to her." Gojo said. "Yes " Geto replied and gave my note book to Gojo. " Thank you... and if y/n came here please do tell her to take it from me." Gojo said. " Sure" Geto replied and both of them went to their own rooms.

I returned to our hostel. " Hey guys you go.... I have to take my note book from Get-" I told Shoko and Mei Mei when they interrupt me " yeah sure..." They said smirking and went to their own rooms. I went to geto's room and knocked on the door. Geto opened the door. " Hey.." I said "heyyy!" He replied. " Umm... I was just... Can you give me my note book please?" I asked. " Oh... Satoru took that and he told me to tell you to take that from him" he said with a smile. " Gojo.. ohkey then" I replied. We both said bye to each other and went to our room.

I went to gojo's room and knocked on the door but the door was already open. I opened the door and called for him "Gojo?". No reply. I went inside. It was normal. We have went in each other's room many times. It wasn't awkward. I went inside and called for him again " Gojoooo???" " Yes???" He replied from the bathroom. " It's me...y/n. I'm here to take my note book..." I said. " Oh yes... I'm coming... Shut the door and wait in my bedroom I'm coming... just a minute!!!" He screamed from the bathroom. " Okey!!" I replied and went to look the door.

When I went back to gojo's room I saw Gojo standing there naked. Not fully...his lower portion was wrapped with towel. I looked away " c-can I...get m-my note book?" I asked. " Would you have looked away if it was Suguru?" Gojo said making me confused. "W-what" I said and looked at him and saw he was standing close to me. " I said.... WOULD YOU HAVE LOOKED AWAY IF IT WAS SUGURU?" he repeated stepping closer to me. " G-Gojo I don't know what you're talking abou-" I started stepping backwards but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. " Oh you know very well~" he said with a smirk.

He threw me on his bed. Fear grabbed me by my neck. Gojo started crawling towards me. " G-Gojo stop" I said " would you have said this if it was Suguru?" He replied. I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me. " Would you have done this if it was Suguru?" He said. " Gojo please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.

He started undressing me. I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He almost took off my clothes. I was just left in my panties. Gojo started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.

When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Gojo please...." I begged again. "Shhh... You're dripping, darling~" he said with his smirk. He bring his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Ummmmmmm..... heaven~" he whispered to himself.

He took off his towel. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " Gojo Gojo Gojo.... please no .... Gojo please no... I'm begging you!!!" I begged him. " WOULD YOU HAVE SAID THIS IF IT WAS SUGURU??????" he screamed and tears started falling from my eyes.

Gojo pushed his whole length in one slide and I scremed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

I felt his dick started throbbing inside me. I didn't have the power to speak. It was too much for me. When my warm walls clenched around him he moaned loudly. In a few minutes he came inside me. He slowly pull out and threw him beside me. I was already fainted. He bring his face closer to mine and whispered....

" you already fainted?... Wasn't you the one who was talking about BDSM?... What a shame.... Now let's see how you can get Suguru.... I'LL MAKE SURE THAT YOU WOULD NEVER THINK ABOUT DOING ANYTHING WITH SUGURU~"

Part-2

Masterlist

[randomshyperson]

Third time lucky - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Some misunderstandings are just the result of poor communication. Or the one where Wanda has a crush and can't find the right time to confess. | Writing Challenge.

Warnings: Fluff and brief mild angst (unrequited love impressions), mutual pining, friends to lovers, some mentions of drinking, college au. | Words: 3.064k

A/N-> I've been having busy days, and apparently, I start dozens of series and never finish a single one. I saw some videos of Prompts challenges on Tik Tok and this one was finished. I do miss Emo!Wanda a lot, and I’ve been trying to work with something for her, but no luck so far. Anyways, good reading to you all!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Buried in the safety of her blankets, Wanda tries to understand how the whole perfect three-month planning went wrong all at once in a 30-second conversation.

This was all Steve's fault.

If he had waited just one more day to end his long-standing relationship with Bucky, he would have avoided affecting his entire group of friends, and Wanda wouldn't have had to drive 40 minutes to the other side of town to drag Barnes' drunk and pissed ass back to the University, and she wouldn't have had the conversation with you.

It was such an unfair situation. She had a plan. Go to the movies together, to the market, have dinner and then, ring. Well, confession first.

"I know we've been friends for a while, but I've secretly been in love since we bumped into each other on the way out of the stadium that day, and spending time with you has only escalated that. Do you wanna be more than friends?" 

She hoped that all this time you were secretly in love as well and she would be the happiest person in the world.

But Steve Rogers broke up with his boyfriend who got too drunk to drive back to his place, and when Wanda safely handed him over to you, all you could tell her was that you were glad you two would never go through anything like this in your entirely platonic friendship.

A bucket of cold water, honestly.

So now Wanda just wanted to lie down and be protected under the covers, with no risk of being hurt again.

Her twin had other plans.

"Wanda, why aren't you ready? Natasha is already downstairs with the car." That's what Pietro questioned as he entered the bedroom of their shared apartment, a grimace stamped at the scene of his sister under the covers in the dark bedroom. 

All the brunette did was groan, which made him sigh. The next minute, the curtains were pulled open and Wanda had to hide from the light with a pillow.

"Go away." She grumbled, but the twin just threw himself sitting up in bed.

" Don't tell me Miss Calendar forgot that we were going to celebrate Yelena's birthday today?" ironized her brother, smirking at Wanda's attempt to get away from his fingers that began to torment her with tickles.

Wanda only grunted again. "How did that not get canceled?" She managed to retort, busy deflecting the tickles to see Pietro shrugging.

"It's not like Yelena is that close to the boys. Besides this, Steve isn't going, and Bucky is still hung over. And you're holding us up."   To emphasize her brother's statement, the loud horn outside easily recognized from Natasha's Truck could be heard. Pietro chuckled before pulling Wanda's covers off at once, ignoring the other's protest. "Move it, lazy girl. We have to get there soon or Nat won't find a parking spot."

"I don't want to go."

"Wanda, come on, Yelena is your best friend's little sister." Pietro reasons, but seeing his sister's almost tearful expression, he immediately assumes a worried expression. "What happened, Pchelka (little bee)?"

Wanda sniffled low, not meeting his gaze. "I was going to tell Y/N how I feel yesterday."

Her brother's eyes widened. "Oh? And how was it?"

"I didn't get a chance. She said she was glad we were friends, and we don't have to go through the same problems as Bucky and Steve." She tells tearfully, but Pietro makes a confused face.

"Wait, but you told her? How do you feel?"

Wanda chuckles indignantly. "What? Didn't you hear what I just said?" Retorted the girl, wiping her face before she started crying for good. "She said we were friends, how do you expect me to-"

"Wanda, for God's sake." Pietro interrupted her with an impatient sigh, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He typed a quick excuse to Natasha to get her to stop honking in front of the building and approached his sister. "You and Y/N are friends, of course, she's glad about this strange, yet amazing connection you two share. The same kind I had with Barry, and you know, it would have worked out if I hadn't screwed it up. But the fact is, we only had a chance of right and wrong because I had the balls to admit what I was feeling."

She frowns thoughtfully. "What is your point?"

Pietro smiles. "My point is that you are here, whining about a rejection that only happened in your head."

"But she said-"

"The truth." He interrupts gently. "You two are friends, and she values this friendship, these are facts. It doesn't mean you can't be more than friends, or that the puppy dog eyes she always gives you are platonic."

Wanda giggles shyly, her cheeks warming. "You're making that one up."

"Yeah, I'm the delusional twin." Retorts the other, laughing when Wanda tries to hit him with a pillow. "Put it together, sis. And grow some nerve. Y/N will be there today, you might make her week better."

Wanda sighs. "Or ruin it for good."

Pietro rolls his eyes. "Wanda, go get changed or I'll be the one to tell her why we were late."

"You wouldn't dare!" Wanda retorts, already getting up. Pietro laughs.

"Try me."

The drive to the dam was uneventful after that - although Wanda had had to put up with her twin and her best friend making fun of all her dramatics that morning.  It was somewhat ironic how apparently all her friends knew about her feelings, except the one person she wanted to be aware of it.

The dam was considerably full, but that was common for weekends even on a not-so-hot day, and the absence of tests at Uni certainly helped. Fortunately, Natasha was able to find a place close enough, and within minutes, Wanda was finishing putting beers to ice near the food table that Maria Hill had set up with the rest of her friends who arrived first.

Wanda only went back to the truck to get Yelena's gift and was ready to lock the car and return to the cheap fun when she was wrapped tightly by strong arms that lifted her into the air. She would have screamed in fright if she hadn't recognized the mischievous giggle.

"Look guys, I found a cute deer all alone." The teasing made the rest of the group chuckle as well. Wanda tried to have a little control over the color of her face, but she became very aware that the Wolf Jacket - The University's mascot - was the only thing that cover your swimsuit from her skin. You spun her around by the waist as you set her down again, and the proximity was almost suffocating. 

"Where is everyone?" It was Clint who asked, holding a packet of coal on his shoulders. Beside him, Laura was wearing only the skirt of the cheerleading team that Wanda was also a member of, the black deer stamped on the edge, and a dark bikini covering her torso. 

Wanda mumbled the direction as you took a step back, and could barely notice when the rest of the group left the two of you alone. You leaned against the truck, and Wanda tried to put it together, as Pietro told her to.

"Your face is a little red, Wands. Did you remember to put on sunscreen? I have some in my backpack..." You were so clueless that it would be adorable if it wasn't frustrating. Wanda began to fantasize about the confession and ended up even redder when she noticed you shaking some sunscreen at the height of her face for what seemed like some time. 

"T-thank you." She mumbled embarrassedly, reaching up to pull the item out, but you moved it out of her reach.

"Don't be silly, I'll help you." You said casually, signaling with your free hand for her to turn around, which Wanda did very quickly.

She heard you pressing the cream into her hands, and she had to hold her breath to keep from sighing with each rub of your fingers against her skin. Rubbing and spreading the sunscreen.

"What were you doing here all by yourself?" you start the casual conversation, curious. 

Wanda swallows to disguise the huskiness in her voice. "I forgot Yelena's gift in the car."

"Hm, and what did you get for her?" You asked, finishing the shoulders and pulling your hands away to apply more lotion.

"Some tapes from that store she likes," Wanda grumbles, biting her lips as she feels your hands go down her back. "She hasn't shut up about Don Mclean in the last few months, so I also helped Nat buy some tickets. They're going to the concert next month."

"Oh, that sounds nice." You complimented, somewhat distracted. Wanda hummed in agreement, hoping to the heavens that you didn't notice how shivery she was under your touch. But judging by your silence and proximity, you could probably tell. A moment later, when you were done with her back and Wanda was forced to work with all her mind control not to do anything idiotic when she was face to face with you again, you commented, "You practically ran out yesterday. I was hoping we would watch some movie, maybe even a sitcom."

Wanda smiles shyly, needing to look away because you were going to start rubbing sunscreen on her face now.

"Hm, sorry." She murmurs. "I thought you'd be busy with Bucky."

"He's a grown-up, Wands. Besides, I would hardly sacrifice time with you to babysit hungover Bucky Barnes."

She panicked, you were too close, and looking at her fondly when you said these things. All she could do was giggle nervously.

"You like me this much, huh?"

It was your turn to chuckle a little confusedly, raising an eyebrow. Wanda swallowed dryly because you were applying sunscreen to her cheeks, but instead of pushing your hands away, you wrapped them around her cheeks.

"Yeah, I like you that much." You assured her and Wanda felt her heart jump in her chest. 

Okay, as Pietro encouraged her in the car: Go big or go home. She opened her mouth to finally confess, but you let go of her face. "All set." You announced about the sunscreen, moving to put the item back in your purse and stepping away in record time. Wanda stood frozen in shock, and you looked at her with confusion. "You're not coming?"

She swallowed the humiliation and lack of courage and forced a smile. "Of course." 

But you stepped into her path, and Wanda panted slightly. 

"Aren't you forgetting anything?"

"Hm, am I?" 

You chuckled. "Yelena's birthday present..."

"Shit, yeah, sure." Wanda was a complete mess. She turned around again, grabbed the gift packed in the passenger seat, and met you halfway. 

And you made the color of her face worse when you simply hold her free hand with yours, pulling her closer to whisper: "My invitation still stands, Maximoff. After the party, how about we have a sitcom night?"

With her heart hammering, Wanda takes a chance. "Yes, but only if it's just the two of us." She declares, and you chuckle shortly, eyeing her with some doubt.

"Are you asking me to kick Bucky out of the apartment?"

She sighs. "No, I... God, you're impossible." She grumbled in frustration, feeling her face very warm. She was ready to clarify when someone shouted your name.

It was Natasha, at the entrance to the parking area, hurrying the two of you because you had the matches in your backpack and the barbecue was supposed to start soon.

Wanda sighed tiredly again and walked off ahead of you.

You followed her with confusion a second later.

-&-

“Judging by your face, things didn’t work out with Y/N.”

Yelena's comment didn't make her feel any better, other than it caught her by surprise enough that Wanda nearly knocked all the beer over.

Yelena chuckled, holding the strainer before the item lost its balance completely and ensuring the safety of the drink for the rest of the party.

"How did you...?"

"Natasha tells me everything, naturally." Clarified the blonde as she shrugged. "This, and well, everyone knows."

Wanda sighed, stealing a glance over to the group of people where you were laughing at some comment Maria made.

"Yeah, not everyone." Murmured the upset brunette. Yelena cleared her throat quietly.

"You know, maybe rejection can be a good thing." Started the blonde to which Wanda grimaced. "Now that you know she doesn't feel the same way, at least you can start looking for someone else who does."

With a nervous chuckle, Wanda retorted, "Technically, I didn't say what I felt, so I haven't been rejected yet and-"

But Yelena interrupted her by reaching out and tapping her finger against her forehead, a gesture that made Wanda grumble. "глупый (silly). You didn't even tell her?"

Rubbing her forehead, the brunette grumbled; "Your sister interrupted me, I was about to."

Yelena chuckled incredulously, stealing a glance at the group as well. "You are unbelievable, Maximoff." She commented before a sigh. "You know this is your fault right? None of this would have happened if you had only agreed to go out with her when she asked you the first time, you silly girl."

Wanda grimaced. "Sorry, what?"

But Yelena just shrugged. "Yeah, you know I'm right. If you had just gone along with it, you would have saved yourself all this stress, and you wouldn't have to stand there trying to build up your courage and-" 

"Yelena, what are you talking about?" Wanda interrupted her. "Y/N never asked me out."

It was the other's turn to look at her as if she had fallen and hit her head. "Of course she did! When we met, silly, at Stark's party in freshman year."

Wanda shook her head. "I met Y/N the first time by bumping into her in a hallway-"

"What, no!" Yelena giggled nostalgically. She dropped her glass of beer and started gesturing a little as she counted. "Don't you remember Stark's party, freshman year? I introduced Y/N to the group, and you had just kicked Vision's ass...oh, I think I know why you don't remember. You got drunk as hell and threw up on the guy in the band, the one with the shaved hair. It was Y/N who drove your car back to the dorm, Wanda. You really don't remember her?"

There was a pact to forget about the humiliation from that night, to be honest, but hearing Yelena quote the facts brought it all back with full force. The last fight with Vision, Tony's birthday at Stark Mansion that turned into a riot loud enough for the party to end with the arrival of the police, and a lot of drinking. Enough for Wanda to forget kind eyes and respectful hands keeping her off the sidewalk.

She looked at you again, and remembered your husky laugh, months ago, in her room when her drunk self said she thought you were really pretty.

"Well, I think you're pretty too, Maximoff. So how about, when you sober up, you and I go out on a date?" You asked, ignoring the teasing giggles of the other two - Yelena was helping Natasha back to bed. 

"I'd love to." She replied drunkenly, giggling when you helped her get under the covers. She made some joke about dreams that made you smile, and then she never thought about this night again.

In the present, Yelena was saying something about how technically she never rejected you, but Wanda cut her off with excuse, and simply turned her back on her, rushing off in your direction.

Whatever Maria's joke was, it was unheard by you with Wanda's sudden arrival.

"Hey, is everything ok-"

"Why didn't you ask me out again?" She interrupted you almost in desperation, ignoring the presence of the other people. You stared at her in shock, surprised at the sudden question. Maria cleared her throat, gesturing to the girls, and everyone sneaked out. 

"Sorry, what?"

"After the party." Wanda retorted without losing her attitude. "You asked me out, and I was too drunk to remember this. Why didn't you ask again after?"

Your cheeks turned pink, and you chuckled awkwardly. "I don't know, Wands." You murmur shyly. Wanda's heart leaps at the lovely image in front of her. "You didn't remember me, and when we started hanging out with everyone else and you quickly included me as a friend, I assumed it was your way of saying you weren't interested without hurting me-"

"But I am interested!" She interrupted you a little louder and more desperate than she would have liked. You gasped in surprise, widening your eyes. "God, I'm so interested."

You chuckle shyly, your face rosy. "Oh, really?"

Wanda thought it best to prove the point, and just grabbed your shirt collar, staring into your eyes for a moment and giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. You did the complete opposite, ending the distance by pressing your lips against hers.

Gasping, Wanda pulled away. "Yeah, definitely interested." She murmured affectedly before kissing you again, now for real, feeling your smile into the kiss.

You ended up parting soon after, both of you unable not to laugh in relief and happiness. Wanda could feel her face burning, and she knew the audience but didn't care one bit. She was too happy for that.

"You taste like beer." Your comment while holding her made her look at you curiously. "Please don't have another alcoholic amnesia with me."  You joked with a certain truth, and Wanda chuckled, stealing another intense kiss before pulling away.

"Are you kidding? I'll definitely remember this." She assured you tenderly, and you smiled apologetically. When you went to kiss her again, Wanda placed a finger over your lips. "Besides this, you could sleep over. It will be easy to remember if I wake up next to you..."

You smirked, kissing her cheek, your arms securely around her. "What a naughty girl you turned out to be, Maximoff."

She slid her fingers away to cup your cheek. "Oh darling, you have no idea." And you swallowed dryly at the teasing whisper.

With luck, it wouldn't take them long to cut the cake and end the party. 

[matan4il]

Update post:

First, on a personal note, I started my day by calling my family that lives outside of Jerusalem to tell them I'm alive. Two terrorists, residents of an Arab neighborhood of Jerusalem (i.e, not Palestinians, who would have to go through a checkpoint, giving soldiers the opportunity to stop them), started shooting people standing at the bus station at the entrance to the city, using a gun and an assault rifle. Three people were killed, one of them a young woman, 24 years old, one is a 73 years old rabbi, and the last is a 67 years old woman. At least 9 more people were injured, 3 of them are still in serious condition. The two terrorists were neutralized at the scene thanks to three people who fired back, one of them was a soldier who was on a 12 hour leave from Gaza, he was at the bus station on his way back to his unit. The terrorists were brothers, affiliated with Hamas, and both had been jailed for terrorist activity in the past. Some of the convicted terrorists who had been released in the past few days, to free innocent Israeli civilians, are residents of the same Jerusalem neighborhood.

Then there was a second terrorist attack today in the Jordan Valley, in this case the terrorist tried driving his vehicle into a crowd, he was neutralized, a few people are injured lightly.

This is Kfir Bibas.

He's the baby who was 9 months old when he was kidnapped together with his 4 years old brother Ariel, his mom Shiri and his dad Yarden. Hamas first said that the Bibas family was handed over by them to another terrorist organization to hold them. Yesterday, Hamas said the Bibas family had been killed by Israeli fire in Gaza. Hamas had previously said that 19 years old Noa Marziano was killed by Israeli fire, it later turned out that she was murdered by a Hamas terrorist in the basement of the Shifa hospital in Gaza. Hamas also said Chana Katzir was killed by Israeli fire. She was released alive. We're all hoping that Hamas is lying about the Bibas family, and that we will see little Kfir and Ariel again, that this is just another part of Hamas' psychological warfare (i.e, psychological torture).

This is 17 years old Aisha al-Ziadna.

You can tell from her hijab, that there is no way Hamas didn't know they were kidnapping a Muslim teenager when they took her, her dad, and her two brothers captive. We know that on the list of hostages to be released today, there are 2 kids. It was just confirmed that it's Aisha and her 18 years old brother Bilal. I'm so glad for Aisha and her family! I'll also admit that as a woman, I've been more worried this whole time for all the girls and women held captive by rapists. I've heard an Israeli Bedouin saying he believed Hamas was keeping her to be released among the last of the hostage kids, to drive a greater wedge between Israel and its Bedouin population. If Aisha and Bilal will finally be freed today, that would mean 38 of the 40 kidnapped kids and teenagers have been released, and the only two remaining in Gaza are Kfir and Ariel Bibas.

We've been hearing more and more about the conditions of captivity the hostages were held under. I'll emphasize that they were kept separately, so what's true for one, is not necesarily true for all, but the overall picture is grim.

Most hostages were kept underground, without fresh air and sunlight. They slept on benches or on plastic chairs. They were not given the medications they need, or they were given unsufficient doses of them. At least one hostage was released in critical state because of this, 84 years old Elma Avraham. One of the doctors fighting to save her life said that had she been released even just one day later, it would have been impossible to save her. She could have been released on the first day of the deal. She was released on the third. For the most part, hostages were not allowed to shower, they were only given new clothes once, on the day of release, and they had no privacy when using the toilettes (again, think about what this meant for girls and women), when asking to use the toilettes, they were sometimes forced to wait for hours for that. At least one kid (12 years old Eitan Yahalomi) told his family he was forced to watch the horror movies Hamas filmed on Oct 7 under gun threat. I'm terrified for what this must have done to him psychologically. All of the kids are having trouble speaking normally, they were threatened with violence if they do anything more than whisper. The Thai captives who were released said they were abused as well, but that the Jewish hostages they were held with, were treated worse (one Thai man mentioned Hamas beat the Jewish captives with electric cables). All of the hostages were malnourished, some of the adult hostages lost up to 15 kilograms (roughly 33 pounds) over 7 weeks, which doctors said amounts to being starved.

(this is Elma Avraham when checked by the Red Cross during her release. I can't not mention that the Red Cross was supposed to give Israel a heads up if any hostage was in a life threatening condition, which Elma was, but the Red Cross didn't say anything, so it was only after a second check by Israel that Elma's critical condition was diagnosed, and she was rushed to the hospital by helicopter)

(speaking of the Thai nationals who were released by Hamas, they were also taken to an Israeli hospital to be treated there until they can go home. Something that really moved me is that the hospital bought a Buddha statue so that these people could pray, even before they're well enough to be discharged)

One Israeli hostage, Roni Crivoi, managed to take advantage of Israeli fire in Gaza, escape his Hamas captors, and he tried to make his way back. Unfortunately for him, he was captured by Gazan civilians, and handed over back to Hamas. Gazan civilians are also some of the people holding Israeli hostages. One kid hostage recounted that he was locked in the attic of an UNRWA teacher (just a reminder, this is a UN employee), who barely give him food, and didn't provide him with his medication. Another was held captive by a Gazan doctor, a man who provided medical care for Palestinian kids, but betrayed his hypocratic oath when it came to an Israeli kid. And it's been Gaza civilians showing up every night, screaming, banging on the jeeps in which the Israeli hostages were being driven to their release, or even throwing rocks at those vehicles. In fact, as hostages were not told they were being freed, many of them said the violence of the crowds made them think they were being taken to be lynched.

Hamas has been violating the hostage deal repeatedly. There's the rockets fired into Israel 15 minutes after the fighting was supposed to stop, there's the promised Red Cross visits to the hostages not freed, which have not yet happened, there's the separation of kids from their mothers (such as Hilla Rotem... Hamas claimed they couldn't release her mother with Hilla, because they didn't know where the mom is. Hilla indicated this was a lie, as she was held together with her mom up until a day before her release. Or another example is Maya Regev, who was freed without er brother Itay, even though he was 18 years old and they were supposed to be released together), there's the Hamas terrorists who fired and threw explosives at IDF soldiers while the fighting is supposed to be on break (starting on day 5 of the deal, we're now on day 7), there was an attempt to offer kidnapped bodies (Israel was able to confirm that three hostages, were actually killed on Oct 7, and Hamas is holding their bodies captive) instead of living people to be released today (which Hamas tried to claim they had to do since they had no more women and kids to release today... when Israel insisted that wasn't true, and if Hamas doesn't rectify the list, the fighting will resume this morning at 7, suddenly Hamas was able to add 3 more women to the list of released hostages for today)...

On a personal note, one of my two kidnapped colleagues was released yesterday, Liat Atzili, and she's been reunited with her kids, but her husband is still in captivity. We've heard through the released hostages that my other colleague is still alive. That's a bit of a relief, since we didn't even know if there was hope for that, given the fact that he had undergone a surgery not that long ago, and is till need of medical care. This is Liat:

This was a perfect reaction to an American projecting American social concepts onto Israel, where the whole history of the conflict is completely different:

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A post shared by HAVTAM (@efi_lefi)

"Israelis get to be white"

Just a reminder that while Jews come in a variety of skin colors, as the above vid nicely points out, no Jew is a part of the social construct of "being white."

This is Liora Argamani, a Chinese woman, who fell in love with and married an Israeli man. Together they had one daughter, Noa. She was kidnapped to Gaza. Liora is dying from cancer. This is the message that she wanted to share:

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A post shared by Hen Mazzig (@henmazzig)

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[zerobaseonefics]

enchanted ㅡ ricky

ricky x gn!reader

genre : fluff, fake dating.

warnings : none <3 shout out to my 🐇 anon and to @mins-fins cuz he seemed excited to read it yesterday 🤭

"ricky, stand up-"

"i said i would beg! i'm begging"

you sighed heavily. growing up as ricky neighbor, you two ended up being great friends. your parents knew each other so your families often did thing together, such as going to holidays, picnics and these kind of things. it is know to everybody that ricky's family was wealthy, and yours was just as much as your parents became business partners over the year.

"come on, i don't wanna go with them, and you have no one to take you there. if we go together, our parents will let us be!"

rich people problem, i guess... once a year, your parents' business partners organized a ball for their kids. it was not just a little dance for shit and giggles, no, it was just so the kids can meet together, fall in love and make their life with someone from a wealthy family. ricky and you grew up going there every year. when you were younger, your parents never pressured you to have a partner to go there. however, around a certain age, you better have one if you don't want your parents to be the laughing stock of town. ricky and you decided years ago to never go together, otherwise your parents would imagine things and think you're a couple. at that time, you didn't have those hidden feelings you have for each other like you have today.

and now, you guys were eighteen, going nineteen, and you had to take someone with you. the problem is, you were absolutly bitchless, and ricky's parent were forcing him to go with someone he couldn't stand.

"ricky, i would've gone with you if our parents weren't friends. you know damn well they won't stop teasing us with it and think we're in love or something."

"and? is it worse than you not pulling and me being forced to go with that goblin??"

"don't call people goblins, i already told you that's mean!" you choked, hitting his arm

"well i don't care!" ricky whined before letting his head fall on the kitchen table you guys were sitting at.

you were thinking about it, and yes, your parents thinking ricky and you are a thing wasn't a problem for you. at least, it was not worse than seeing someone else at ricky's arm. but you knew you will not be able to stand your parents thinking you guys are in love when you were convinced ricky didn't like you back.

suddenly, ricky got up.

"what if we tell our parents that we are dating, and then we break up after the ball so they leave us alone."

"i mean...that could work."

"so you're fine with it?"

the blonde looked at you with eyes full of hope, waiting for you to say yes. you let yourself a few seconds to think, before sighing.

"screw it, i guess that's a nice plan."

a huge smile on his face, ricky took your hand and dragged you with him to the door.

"mom, i'm taking y/n on a date, i should be back around 6!"

"what?" you said in a choked voice to make sure she couldn't hear it.

"you're dating y/n??" she suddenly appeared, her head peeking out of her room.

"i didn't know how to tell you, but yes, we've been dating for a few weeks now", ricky said confidently as you were turning red.

"oh my god! is it why you didn't want to go with my colleague's daughter?"

she started rambling about how happy she was about the news, and ricky had to cut her off gently for you two to go. he opened the door, not letting go of your hand.

"okay, so what do we do now..."

"we're going on a fake date."

"is it really necessary? our parents are not with us, we don't have to go that far."

"don't worry about that, it's to imbue us with the couple vibes."

and ricky took you on a date. once, and twice, and a third time again before the ball. and it never felt fake, not even once. or maybe you were just delusional? at least, that's what you were thinking, not knowing ricky was having the time of his life pretending to be your lover.

the night of the ball, ricky came to pick you up. you were surprised when you saw his cheeks turn crimson red when he saw you all done-up. it wasn't that hot tonight, why was he like this? (well you're a dense bitch) (i'm sorry) (let me go back to my serious narrator persona wait)

the feeling of taking you to the dance was bittersweet for ricky. you two have planned to fake your 'break up' to your parents after the ball. it means it was the last time he could take your hand, pass his arm around your waist or your shoulder to take you closer to him, look at him with obvious love in his eyes with the excuse of faking it so you won't be unconfortable.

everyone joked about how they knew you two will end up together since you were young, and they congratuled you on finally being a couple. but both of you knew the truth, and it's why it didn't please you as much as they thought it would.

the evening was going smoothly as you both tried to joke around and enjoy the moment.

now, the time has come. the most awaited moment by the people your age that were going to the ball was slowdancing, as cliche as it sounds. you watched the other kids as they got up with excitement with their partner to dance. the song playing on background was enchanted by taylor swift. tugging on a piece of your clothing, ricky tried to have your attention. you turned to face him.

"you're comfortable with doing this? we're not obliged to do it if you don't want to, you seem hesitant about it." fervently, you shook your head to deny his allegations.

"no no! it be weird if we didn't do it, right? and i'm comfortable, since it's you."

ricky tried to restrain his smile as he got up from the seat you two were on. he gave you his hand, waiting for you to take it in yours.

"can i have this dance?"

you laughed at his act.

"i would love to", you admitted, putting your hand in his. he took it to his lips to plant a kiss on it, still in his gentleman act.

and here you were, on the dance floor between all those stupid rich kids, your arms around ricky's neck as he was holding your waist, slowdancing. the blonde haired boy bent a bit to whisper in your ear, pulling you closer.

"can you believe we're breaking up tomorrow?" he mumbled in a teasing tone, making sure no one but you could hear him.

"don't bring this up, i'm your lover for at least... three more hours", you answered in the same volume.

"you know, now that i think about it, our parents are probably gonna freak out when we tell them we broke up."

"that's true, and we're gonna have to tell everybody here that we're not together anymore."

"seems tiring."

you simply nod, and ricky straightened himself up to look at your eyes. there was something special about the way he looked at you, something you couldn't explain. little did you know, that same thing was shining the same in your eyes, and ricky started to think that maybe his feelings were mutual.

"you're making me feel so weird right now." ricky confessed, which made you frown. you hummed in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

"do we really have to break up?"

"i mean, we're not gonna pretend forever... right?"

"it felt right to me. how was it for you?"

"how was what?"

"me being your boyfriend."

it seemed like a joke to you at first, but the more you observed his face, there was not even a pint of playfulness. he was dead serious. you didn't answer because you were taken aback, so ricky continued.

"i loved being your boyfriend, even if it was all an act. i might be wrong, but i feel like it wasn't that bad for you either. please let me take you on a real date at least once and if you don't like it, let's just forget about it."

"i don't think i can forget about it."

was is it a rejection? did he ruin everything by confessing? ricky let his head down in shame, cold sweat running down his back. suddenly, he felt your hand on his cheek, and he looked back up to you. you quickly kissed his lips.

"i would love to date you for real this time", you said, as enchanted was coming to an end. he beamed befofe leaning back to yours lips, and he was now the one kissing you.

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER TWO (JEDDAH)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, etc.

word count: 6k

warnings: hmmm nothing except heartbreak in several scenes lol

author's note: guys im really sorry but im pretty mean to paul here..... like it got to the point where i rewatched jeddah videos of him and physically felt ill because i was mad at him LMAO 😭 but we'll get through this together!! this was supposed to include some other scenes but it was long enough as it was sooo 😶 summary for this chapter ig is yn feels very torn between her boys, and so do i. hope everyone has a good week (it's finally race week again aaaaa) !! 💗

also i think the next chapter might be shorter because i just wanna get it out already and i don't have a lot to write about in it hehe, fingers crossed that i can finish it soon<3

(alsoooo i proofread this a few days ago but i just cant find the energy or time to do it rn, praying that there are no big issues…. if there are, i would be so thankful if you could send me an ask or message etc 🙏)

series masterlist

"i still can't believe i missed out on the top ten again. and by just three hundredths, even..."

pepe shakes his head as you both make your way out of the campos truck, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair before pulling on his red bull cap. you can't help but chuckle – he's been like this all day, and all evening yesterday. you understand it, though; finishing just outside the reverse grid pole once again must feel frustrating.

not that you can relate. with a much better qualifying session yesterday in your second-ever qualifying in formula 2, you managed to snatch an eight-place finish. in other words, you will be starting third in today's sprint race, and just the thought of the probability of getting some big points sends tingles through your entire body.

"you'll get it next time," you say with a pat on your friend's back. "i mean, look at ollie. from p-nowhere last week to pole yesterday. that can be you next time around."

you've just come out of your morning meeting – morning meaning starting at ten and ending around noon – and now you're finally getting some lunch in the red bull hospitality. even during a race weekend like this, with mostly evening and night sessions, you still managed to oversleep and almost didn't make it in time for your meeting. you didn't get to have any breakfast, you had to run all the way from the shuttle to the truck, and you even forgot one of your racing boots as well as your phone in your hotel room. thankfully, you'll still have time to go back to the hotel before the sprint race, but walking around without your phone feels like being naked.

"speaking of ollie," pepe starts as you turn left and head into the formula one paddock. "are things between you two... alright?"

your eyebrows furrow together at the pause in the middle of his sentence. "why wouldn't they be?"

"well, i..." he stops again, and it makes you want to shake him. "i heard something. but it doesn't matter."

"who are you to decide that it doesn't matter?" you scoff. "tell me."

pepe sighs – he knows fighting you over this is a losing battle. you're way too stubborn to let go of this. "i heard that you were having issues. that you aren't happy, or something along those lines..."

you stop in your tracks, brain working in overdrive to comprehend what your friend is telling you. not happy with ollie? why would you not be happy with him? "who told you this?"

pepe stops in front of you. "i heard it from kimi, who heard it from... paul."

"what?" your eyes squeeze shut as your hands interlace on top of your head. "why would kimi come to you? instead of asking ollie himself?"

"you know kimi," pepe starts instantly. "he's young and gullible. i think he wanted to go for the see-if-the-best-friend-knows-anything strategy instead of asking ollie straight out." his hands squeeze your shoulders softly and you look up at him, a hint of a pout on your lips. "i guess he was scared that ollie would get mad at him or something."

"it's just-" you sigh. "it doesn't make any sense, does it?" pepe is just about to say something more when you cut him off with a dismissive swat of your hand in the air, stepping away from him and continuing your walk down the paddock. "let's just forget about it. i need lunch."

pepe stands frozen for a few moments before hurrying up to you again. he can't quite read your mood – you look unbothered, but he can't help but notice the slight touch of redness of your ears and the way your eyes seemingly can't focus on one thing for long enough. there's no way you can be over it already.

with pepe shutting up for a little while for the first time ever, you're left all alone with your thoughts as you continue your stroll. you know you should've asked for more information; you should've asked for details, for exactly what kimi said and how he worded it. you probably should also ask kimi himself for what paul told him. but right now, it's like a shadow is clouding your vision.

how dare paul say something like that? he must've known that the rumors he made up would spread like wildfire, as they always do in the formula paddocks. the snowball effect can make something tiny become huge, which is why you're always cautious about rumors. but apparently, paul doesn't care about that.

you're far too enraged to think even straight, and that's why it takes pepe pulling your arm to make you stop walking. you frown – to be fair, your frown hasn't left since it appeared a few minutes ago – but when you realize what it is that he's pointing at, both your frown and your jaw drop.

there's a swarm of journalists and fans following a ferrari driver down the road in front of you, which isn't all that uncommon. both charles and carlos are always incredibly popular. but what blows your mind is the fact that when you finally catch a glimpse of the driver's face, it's neither of the team's main drivers.

it's ollie.

"ollie! mate!" pepe yells, his arm waving erratically over his head. it takes a moment for the brit to find the owner of the voice, but he's tall enough to look over everyone else, and he's soon making his way over to you both. "i know you're popular, but this all seems a little excessive, don't you think?"

"i don't know what happened, as soon as the news came out..." ollie lets out a chuckle before turning to you, eyebrows raised at your expression. "i've called you like a hundred times, what have you been up to?"

"i left my phone at the hotel-" you begin but cut yourself off and shake your head. "wait, what news?"

when ollie starts speaking, time slows down. the entire world around you goes dark, the only thing you can hear being ollie's explanation of how carlos needs surgery and the call he got as he was having lunch. you feel lightheaded, almost like you could faint, when he speaks his final words. "...and they said i will be the one to replace him. i'm driving the formula one grand prix tomorrow."

you don't waste any time before throwing yourself into his arms, a loud squeal passing through your lips. "are you kidding me?" you exclaim, hugging him even tighter. "this is incredible, ollie! oh my god, i..."

"i can't really believe it myself, to be honest," ollie says, shaking his head as you part from the hug. pepe slaps his shoulder, congratulating his friend. "i would love to stay and chat, but i need to be in the car for the last practice, and i have a lot to get done-"

"go! go!" you usher, softly shoving him away back towards the journalists and fans who are still waiting just a few meters away. "we will talk later, okay?"

"of course."

and then you watch him leave – your boyfriend, the soon-to-be formula one driver – with a much lighter heart. this definitely helps you forget about all of the things regarding paul.

at least for a little while.

but of course, pepe stops your train of thought. "does that mean i get the reverse grid pole?"

you've never ever been to the ferrari garage before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-practice duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the garage instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull race suit, even. great.

you were in the middle of preparations for your sprint race when ollie texted you, and since you still had some time before the race started, you made it over to the other side of the paddock as quickly as you could. but unfortunately, that meant that you didn't have time to change your outfit into something more discreet.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

"he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "i really need to go, because the sprint starts in..." you shoot a quick glance to the clock on the wall. "forty-five minutes. my team is going to kill me. but go out there and show them, baby."

and that's exactly what he did.

though, that's not the only thing you were correct about; your team was indeed furious when you finally made it back to the campos garage. your main engineer, who was supposed to help you get strapped in and fix all of the last details with the car over fifteen minutes ago, was apparently so angry he left you to do everything yourself. it's not that you didn't know about your schedule; you just needed to be there for ollie before his big debut.

everything works out in the end, at least according to you, and you're soon settled in your car on the grid, waiting to go on your formation lap. however, you've barely gotten as much as a glance from anyone on your team. you can't help but press the button to activate your radio. "i'm really sorry, guys. i just... had to do something."

"hope it was worth it." the voice of one of your engineers booms through your earpieces instantly, the sternness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. "we got a huge fine because you were so late to get into the car, so..."

another of your engineers speaks up. "let's focus on the race instead now. no need to fight."

maybe it was because you got to visit ollie right before the race, or maybe it was just starting third and having a good car. either way, the sprint race was one of your best races in a long time. not only did you pass richard verschoor starting one place ahead of you into turn one; you also overtook paul, who started from pole, before the end of the first lap and got to lead your first laps in formula two ever.

dennis came around to steal the lead from you, but just landing yourself a spot on the podium was enough for you to celebrate. when you scored a second-place finish where the guy in first place was one of your former academy members, it didn't really matter that the guy on the third step of the podium was your ex-boyfriend.

going through all media duties is always exhausting, but it's usually never as dreadful as it is today. sitting in that press conference, knowing that your boyfriend is starting his first ever formula one qualifying in just a few moments. you have to literally bite your tongue not to pull a valtteri bottas and ask the journalists how q1 is going.

when you're this busy, you don't really have any time to think about paul's rumors. though, something about it continues to loom in the back of your mind all evening. especially when he speaks in the press conference, despite how hard you try to not even look at him, and especially when he's asked about ollie.

as the press conference finally comes to an end, you're not the only one who wants to hurry out of there to watch the rest of the qualifying session. you and the rest of the podium trio find a big screen that's showcasing the session, and you all insist that you should stay and watch, despite the f2 staff members' continuous attempts to squeeze the last drops of content from you.

they keep stuffing their phones and cameras in your face, throwing all kinds of questions about ollie your way, but you refuse to budge. you won't let them ruin this moment for you.

you're sure they've gotten quite a lot of embarrassing pictures of you teary-eyed while admiring your boyfriend's results, though.

you follow the timing board like a hawk, but something breaks you out of your trance. "who are you watching?" your head snaps to the direction of the voice – the f2 instagram admin with her phone pointed to paul.

as if you all haven't been watching and chatting about ollie for the last ten minutes.

you try not to, you really do, but you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of paul. he's trying to look all innocent, hugging his trophy to his chest as his big, blue eyes blink up at the screen in the distance. a year ago, you would've just thought he was adorable – but today, this frustrates you more than anything. "i'm watching my dear friend ollie," he starts, eyes finding the camera so easily.

dear friend, huh? a dear friend is someone you spread rumors about?

the next time he speaks up, you have to physically bite your tongue to not yell at him. "the guy who gave me one position on tomorrow's grid."

you turn your head away in pure disgust. how could he say something like that? is that the only thing he cares about, places in his starting grid for tomorrow's feature race? is he serious?

you want to escape, to just storm off and never speak to him again. but instead, you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus back on the thing you're here for. ollie is doing so well; when q2 ends and he has driven his last lap, he misses out on q3 by just over a hundredth of a second. he almost even manages to knock out the legendary lewis hamilton, his fellow countryman whom he's been following for as long as he can remember, in his first-ever qualifying session.

you've never been prouder.

"honestly, as long as i can just bring the car home without wrecking it completely, i'm satisfied."

you give ollie's hand a soft squeeze at his words, fingers intertwining as your hands rest on top of the hotel cafeteria table. your other hand lifts your sandwich to your mouth and you take a bite, chewing it down quickly before giving him a nod.

you know his statement is meant as a joke, but you know it's just as much of a truth as a lie. driving an actual ferrari f1 car is his biggest dream, and even just making an alright race probably is enough to make him happy. there's no pressure on him, no one is expecting him to perform a miracle or even score some points.

but at the same time, you know he would never be satisfied with himself if he "just" brought it home safely. ollie isn't like that; he's way too stubborn, too determined, too much of a sore loser. it's what makes him. no matter what he says, there's always going to be something inside of him telling him that he needs to do better.

"i think you'll score your first points today," you tell him with a shrug. "i can feel it."

"don't say that, we don't know anything yet."

a shake of your head in combination with that smile of yours is enough to make some hope spark in him. "well, you have the car for it," you start. "and you have the skills."

ollie stays silent, letting the distant chatter of the other hotel guests having their breakfast fill the air. the cafeteria is emptying out by now, but new faces have been dropping in for a long time now, most of them walking by to give ollie a pat on his shoulder or a quick "good luck, mate".

you put down the last of your sandwich, leaving it behind with the fruit rinds and other scraps on your plate. "but don't think too much," you hum, eyes softening as they land on his. he's trying to contain his worries and anxiety as much as he can, but the slight tilt of his eyebrows and the way his gaze tends to dart away every once in a while tells a different story. "it's just driving. it's just what you always do, no problem."

you hold your glass of orange juice up to him and he gets the hint, clinging his own glass to yours before downing the last of its contents.

you're just about to speak up again with new words of affection, but an icy feeling spreads through your body at the sight of paul entering the cafeteria. the feeling soon turns into real nausea, and you can't even remember what you were supposed to say when you realize that he's making his way towards the two of you.

you want nothing more than to stay and keep encouraging ollie, but you can't take it at this moment. you stand up from your seat, giving ollie's fingers one last squeeze. "i forgot that i have a meeting soon," you make up. "so i need to go. i'll come see you before the race, okay?"

he doesn't even get to say bye before you've stormed off.

unfortunately, you have to pass paul in order to make it to the exit, but you make no effort to even recognize that he exists. you keep your gaze straight ahead.

karl, paul's physio, does a quick greeting from you though – as well as a confused look at the candle pressed into a pastry in one of the hotel's yogurt bowls – but then, you're off to hide in your hotel room until you're needed at the track for race preparations.

of course paul had to come by and ruin everything yet again.

with a good race from yesterday in the bag, you thought you could keep the momentum into today. however, that didn't turn out to be the case.

when a trident driver hit you from behind in the first lap, you lost a few positions instantly and after that, it was a bit too tough to recover. you had opportunities for overtakes, and the car was good enough to go through with them, but you never could. you kept slipping up, making rookie mistakes, and falling back even further. it even got to the point where your team came on the radio to remind you to focus on the road.

but no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't work. the entire race, something else clouded your mind.

or, more specifically, someone.

every time you even caught a glimpse of paul's silver car, it was like something in your mind short-circuited. the memory of your conversation with pepe, the thought about paul running around and spreading rumors about you in the paddock… you couldn't push the thoughts, or the anger, away.

other times, back in the day, you were always good at turning your anger into something positive for your races. if you were upset with your father for something he said about red bull or the junior program, you went out there and proved him wrong. if you heard that another driver had complained about how you just got your seat because you were a girl, you made sure to dominate the race.

your stubbornness was always your biggest strength. but today, it was like your tank had run out. as much as you wanted to completely crush paul, you didn't have the capability.

at least paul didn't have that good of a race, either.

the second you get out of your car, you storm off towards your garage. you know you'll probably get a lot of shit for your performance your entire debrief, but if you can at least get over with it sooner, then you can forget about it and refocus on the next race weekend. plus, you really want to catch ollie before he's away for his f1 debut.

thankfully, you're not the only one getting criticized during the debrief; the team is not very happy with pepe's start, nor his DNF. after they've gone on and on about how costly this weekend has been for the team for an hour, you're finally released, but not without one last reminder to "think about what you're doing here and whose time you're wasting".

it's natural to lose all energy and confidence after a race like this. but the second you're back in ollie's arms, it's like the world around you just disappears. he's always been the best at keeping you grounded.

you've probably never hugged him this tightly before, but you can't help it. the second your arms wrap around his neck, you pour everything you have into the embrace.

he looks so good, so handsome and professional dressed up in his ferrari race suit. not just his prema suit with the ferrari logo on it, but an actual ferrari outfit. he looks like a real f1 driver – and the realization that he indeed is a formula one driver now brings tears to your eyes.

"hey," he says around a chuckle. "don't cry on me, woman."

"i won't..." you reach up to wipe away a drop from the corner of your eye as you pull away slightly from his embrace, shaking your head. "i won't. i'm just so proud of you."

"why are you so sappy?" the scene in front of him brings a huge grin to ollie's lips – he finds you equal parts adorable and hilarious. "i'm just going out there to drive a car. no biggie."

"no biggie," you repeat with a scoff, dabbing your other eye quickly before doing your best to blink down your other tears. earlier today, you were the one saying all of this was no problem. and yet, now he is the one who has to convince you of it. "right. it's just your passion, the thing you love. but i'm still proud."

an engineer catches ollie's attention above your head, sending him a certain look that has your boyfriend nodding before giving you one last squeeze. "i think i should-"

"of course, go," you usher him, retracting from his arms. "i'll be here after, no matter what happens." he nods, and he's about to leave when you speak up one last time. "have fun, okay?"

"always."

who would've imagined that ollie would not only score points in his first ever f1 race, but also win driver of the day, have the most overtakes, and score a seventh place as the second best british driver of the race?

well, you had imagined everything from him coming last to winning the race by horse lengths. and yet, this was all so unexpected. if someone had told you on wednesday that ollie would score six f1 points three days later, you would've laughed in their face. but now, it feels like it's been a long time coming.

you weren't allowed to stay in the ferrari garage for the actual race – it would've been a pr nightmare for everyone involved – so your nerves were all over the place since you weren't able to hear ollie's radio messages, info about the strategies, and so on. at least you get to wait right outside the garage with jamie, chris and his dad david, being the first to congratulate him after such a good debut race.

he looks completely worn out when he finally walks out through the door, but you can almost feel the pride and happiness radiating from him. his sweaty hair rests messily on top of his head, and an ice vest is draped over his body already to cool him down from the insane heat. and, most importantly, the smile on his lips is bigger than it's been all week.

ollie looks like he doesn't ever want to let go of his dad's hug, his face nuzzled in the crook of david's neck for a long time. you can only guess what things the father is whispering in his son's ear, but when the result is ollie pulling him even closer, your heart expands in your chest.

when they part, it's jamie's and chris's times to congratulate the point-scorer, and when he pulls away from his manager's arms, his eyes land on you. you're pulled into his embrace in just a second, a giggle slipping past your lips when he lifts you up into the air and spins you both around. his strong grip around you never eases, not when he sets you down on your feet again and not when he starts speaking.

"i knew it would be hard, but..." he shakes his head, a sweaty fringe brushing against the side of your head. "my entire body is ruined. like, it doesn't hurt because i have so much adrenaline, but i'm going to be in so much pain later. my neck and my shoulders and-"

another one of your waves of laughter cut off his ramblings, and he joins in once he realizes what he's been doing. when you finally pull apart slightly and your hands come up to cup his cheeks, you're just staring into his eyes for what feels like forever.

your boy, the f1 driver.

"this is from your mum," you whisper to him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "and this is from your sister." a kiss to his other cheek. "and... this is from me."

ollie has to crouch down slightly because even when you get onto your tippy toes, you can't reach all the way up to his forehead. but once you press your lips against his skin, all of the hidden tension in his eyebrows disappears. he's like putty under your touch.

"i'm so proud."

ollie's groans are muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into, head twitching when your thumbs press into some tense areas of his neck. you shush him jokingly, like a mother comforting a crying baby, but your movements never halt.

ever since he got out of that car, he's been complaining about how sore he is. especially his neck and shoulders, and all of the muscles that were most affected by the g forces. you don't blame him, however – he's got a free pass for pretty much everything for the next week, you think – but you decided to be a nice girlfriend and help him out. the strings of whines and swearwords he keeps letting out don't seem to be stopping anytime soon, though.

the lotion on your hands is enough for you to be able to glide your fingers across his upper back, along his shoulder blades, all over his freckled skin. as you're straddling his lower back, you can reach pretty much all angles of his upper body, and the knots in his muscles seem to be disappearing despite how painful your massage seems to be.

eventually, ollie tilts his head to the side, his blushed cheeks decorated with lines from the pillow underneath him. his slight pout is on full display and his tired eyes flutter closed as he speaks. "hey, y/n?"

"yes, ollie?" you reply, your thumb pressing into one especially stubborn knot in his right shoulder. ollie stays quiet for a few moments and takes a deep breath, almost as if he's gathering courage for something.

"you know that i love you right?"

the world around you stops.

everything freezes.

he loves me?

your breath hitches in your throat at the words. it's the first time he's ever said them, and though it's not the most uncommon thing for someone to tell their girlfriend of over six months, they make your head spin.

a mishmash of thoughts clouds your mind. they won't shut up for even a second. but the loudest thought is the only one you shouldn't have; it's about the only person you can't be thinking about right now.

the way that your mind instantly wanders off to paul is frankly embarrassing, but you can't help it. he's the first boy you've ever loved, the first person you've ever uttered those three words to. the only one. and no matter how badly you wish you could just forget about that and move on, he's still a part of you. he's your only real experience of love.

and this just isn't the same.

you want to say it back to ollie, you truly do. but at the same time, you don't want to say it if it isn't true – it's not fair to him.

ollie senses that something is up. your signs aren't exactly subtle, anyway; your movements have stopped completely and he can't even hear you breathing anymore. "hey, i'm sorry-"

"don't apologize," you interject instantly, shaking your head as you start to climb off his body. "you did nothing wrong. i'm the one who's sorry."

"stop that, you shouldn't be." he turns around, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his. "i don't expect you to say it back if you don't want to. i just..." he lets out a low sigh. "i wanted you to know, i guess."

you sit still for a few moments, before leaning down to place a kiss on his rosy cheek. "thank you." another pause. "it means a lot, you know?"

"well, you mean a lot to me."

and he does to you, too.

but is that enough?

ollie loves me.

he actually loves me.

he told me today after the race, and... i didn't say anything. i just sat there like a complete moron.

i couldn't say it back. i just don't feel what i felt for paul yet.

what's wrong with me?

why don't i race like i used to? why can't i control my emotions? was the sprint race yesterday just luck? did i really deserve that podium?

why does paul still affect me this much? why is he always there in my thoughts – when i'm racing, when i'm with ollie, when i try to sleep...

i have a perfect boyfriend and a great car, so why do i feel like everything is falling apart?

yourusername just posted!

yourusername p2 in the sprint 🥈 big thanks to the team for the hard work!! and i got to witness the rb p1-2 up close, congrats redbullracing 💙 also check slide 4 for an appearance from me and my former family on f1tv <3

show all 96 comments

user y/n and the prema staff during the driver's parade 😭 they're so cute

→ user her referring to them as her family, byeeee

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user why is no one talking about the last slide???

→ user because i can't talk while i'm crying, sorry

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user great job this weekend y/n !!! thank you for signing my cap 🥺

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user loved to see her celebrate the red bull double podium even after a hard feature race ❤️

→ user she had to balance out the post with that max and checo pic 😭 would've been just ollie & prema otherwise

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user ollie looks like a baby in the second pic 🥲

→ user just a little boy playing with his toy cars

→ yourusername i had to hold his little teddy bear during the race to make sure it wouldn't get dirty

→ user stopppp you're so real for sharing that

[37sommz]

❁ : she's dreaming . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: angst & suggestive (18+). ✼. wc: 3.6k.

it’s been weeks since michaela has thought about that night in tuscany. but with the season freshly over, the guilt starts to the submerge her. and all at once, jenson is everywhere and nowhere at all. 

✼. warnings: suggestive but not smutty. language warnings. not proofread (lol). mclaren papaya mentions.

✼. notes: she’s kind of an asshole in this one but you would too if you have jenson!brain. angst again bc i have no self-control. the true honest beginning of the jenson arc is here!! experimenting with the formatting a little bit idk how i feel though.

000.⠀⠀DECEMBER 14, 2020    ›    Monaco.

"Mm, you're so fast," Olivier murmured into her ear, his breath hot and ragged.

Michaela's eyes snapped open, the racing of her heart not entirely from passion but the echo of her fastest lap point from Abu Dhabi yesterday. She pushed him away gently, laughing at the odd choice for dirty talk the Frenchman had chosen. Under the soft moonlight of their Monaco hotel room's balcony, she leaned the full weight of her body against his stronger, half-naked form.

"What's so funny?" Olivier asked, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "It's true, you're so fast."

Michaela couldn't help the smile that tugged at her own lips. "You're so odd," She quipped, tracing her fingers along the taut muscles of his abdomen. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between them.

Olivier leaned in, kissing her neck gently. "Seriously though, baby," He said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone, "I'm so proud of all you've accomplished this past season."

Michaela giggled once more as the bliss of Mediterranean air swirled and enveloped them in a haze that tottered between love and lust. His hands were everywhere and committed to nowhere all at once as she released the smallest of whines in anticipation of his next display of passion.

Her eyes fell upon the McLaren team's official merchandise laid out on the nearby table—she had worn it earlier today on their flight as she had gone straight from their factory in Surrey to her vacation in Monaco. The polo, though a symbol of hope, was also a stark reminder of the conversation she'd been trying to avoid. Olivier had been much too eager to take it off his girlfriend of a year and Michaela pretended not to notice though it stung nonetheless.

"Your new McLaren gear, I see," Olivier said, his hand pausing mid-caress as he followed her gaze to the shirt. "You're really going to wear that papaya orange next season?"

Michaela stiffened, feeling the joy of their intimate moment dissipate like mist in the early morning sun. "What's wrong with papaya orange?" She asked, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

Olivier rolled his eyes. "It's not exactly my color, chère," He mentioned with a laugh, his hand still playing with the strap of her lingerie. "But if you’re contractually required to wear it, I guess I’ll put up with it."

Michaela's smile faltered. "It's not just about the color, Olivier," She said, her voice firm. "It's about my future in the sport. This is a big deal for me."

If Olivier heard her, he gave no indication of any kind. His hands continued to caress his girlfriend's skin as his lips wandered the expanse of her shoulders and up her neck.

Michaela pushed the topic away, the moment feeling too delicate to be sullied by their ongoing argument. Her thoughts grew hazy as his touch grew more insistent. But the nagging feeling remained regardless. Was it really so hard to support her dreams?

Their bodies intertwined, Olivier's hands explored the curves of her body, setting her alight with a passion she knew was genuine. Yet, her mind was elsewhere—replaying moments from her second Formula 1 season—the smell of rubber, the roar of the engines, and the sweet taste of success at her third-place finish in Tuscany.

It was that podium finish, the first for a woman in history, that had brought her to Jenson's arms. The English former champion had congratulated her, and she had been drawn to his easy charm and the understanding in his eyes. The memory of that night grew clearer, the whispers of betrayal echoed through her mind like the rustling of leaves in the Monaco night.

Her cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and guilt as Olivier's hands grew more intimate. The scent of the champagne they had gotten drunk on just moments earlier wafted through the air, a cruel reminder of her infidelity. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the image of Jenson out of her thoughts. But his touch remained etched in her skin, a silent confession that grew louder with each breath she took.

"Are you okay, darling?" Olivier asked, sensing the sudden tension in her body.

Michaela took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts of Jenson to the back of her mind. "Yeah," She lied as she forced a smile. "Just a little tired."

Olivier's eyes searched hers for the truth, but she averted them, focusing instead on the horizon where the last signs of daylight kissed the water. "You're sure?" He whispered, his voice laced with concern.

Michaela nodded, her throat tight with the weight of her secret. She didn't want to ruin the night—not yet. But the conversation had left a sour taste in her mouth, one she couldn't ignore. "Let's just enjoy tonight," She murmured, leaning into him again. She turned to face him head on, willing her hands to travel the length of his well-defined chest to cradle his face in her hands.

Olivier could not help but notice the plea in Michaela’s eyes, his own filled with a hint of doubt. But he kissed her deeply, his tongue seeking hers in a motion as fiery as the passion that had brought them together. The tension between them melted away as they gave themselves over to the moment. Their bodies synced in a rhythm as familiar as the purr of an engine, each movement speaking volumes in a language only they understood.

Michaela's guilt weighed on her like the gravity of indecision, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the here and now. The sound of their breathing grew ragged, their skin slick with sweat, and the world outside their love faded away. For a brief moment, she was free—free from the pressures of her new contract, free from the whispers of doubt, and free from the haunting memory of her indiscretion with Jenson.

As the night grew darker and the air grew thicker with the scent of their love, Olivier whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his voice a gentle comfort that seemed to resonate with the distant waves. But his words were hollow echoes of a support she desperately craved. With each moan of pleasure, she felt the gap between them widen, the truth of her actions with Jenson a heavy burden she wasn't ready to share.

Finally, unable to contain the storm brewing within, she pulled away before either of them could finish, her eyes searching his for something—anything—that could make this right. "Olivier, can we talk?" She asked, her voice small and trembling.

Olivier's eyes stilled upon hers for a moment before nodding, his own smile faded into a look of concern. "Of course, chère." He stood to his full height, totally unprepared for the ensuing conversation.

Michaela took a deep, shaky breath, the cool Monaco night air raising goosebumps on her flushed skin. "Every time I talk about my future with McLaren, you get so... distant," She began, her voice tight with emotion. "I can't help but feel like you're not as excited for me as you say you are."

Olivier's expression shifted into a mix of confusion and defensiveness. "What are you talking about?" He asked, reaching for her hand. "I've supported you every step of the way."

Michaela's gaze dropped to their intertwined fingers. "But you don't get it, do you?" She said softly. "You don't get what this means to me."

Olivier squeezed her hand gently, his brain scrambling for understanding. "I'm trying, Mickey," He said. "I really am."

Michaela felt a lump form in her throat. "You shouldn't have to try," She whispered. "You should want to be there."

Olivier's brow furrowed as he sat beside her on the balcony's chaise lounge, the moon casting shadows across his concerned features. "What are you saying?" He asked, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

Michaela took a deep breath, the scent of the ocean mingling with the faint smell of the city's nightlife. "I'm saying that every time I bring up McLaren, you change the subject or make a joke about it," She replied, her voice growing stronger with each word. "It's like you're not really here for me."

Olivier looked genuinely surprised. "I just don't want to lose you," He admitted, his voice low and sincere. "When you're in the middle of the season, you're so focused on winning that I feel like I'm just... an accessory."

Michaela's eyes widened with shock. "What? No, you're not," She protested, though the sting of his words resonated deep within her.

Olivier looked away, his jaw clenched tight. "Maybe not now," He said, "But what about next season? With McLaren, you'll be even more consumed by the sport. I won't be able to compete with that."

Michaela felt the anger simmering in her chest, her eyes flashing with intensity. "Is that what this is about?" She demanded, her voice rising. "You're jealous of my career?"

Olivier sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. "No, Mickey," He said, his voice weary. "It's not about being jealous. It's about feeling... irrelevant."

Michaela's anger tapered off, replaced by a sudden rush of sadness. "I'm sorry you feel that way," She said, her voice cracking. "But my career is my life. You knew that going into this."

Olivier's expression grew dark. "But what about us?" He countered. "Is there no room for me in your career?"

Michaela felt the sting of his words. "Of course there is," She said, her voice thick with mounting emotion. "But you have to support me. That's what being in a relationship is about."

Olivier leaned back, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. "And what about when you're too busy with your races and your parties?" He asked, his voice accented with a bitterness she had never heard before. "What happens to us then?"

Michaela felt the weight of his question like a gunshot to the stomach. She knew she couldn't give him the answer he wanted to hear—not without admitting the truth about that night in Tuscany. "You've never wanted to go with me," she said, her voice whispering. "How could I know you wanted to be there if you've never been excited, Olivier?"

The tension grew thick as the silence stretched out between them, the only sound the distant hum of the city below. Olivier took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the moonlit air. "You're right," He finally said. "I've never felt truly welcome."

Michaela's eyes searched his, desperation pooling in her heart. "That's not true," She protested. "For fuck's sake Olivier, you've spent more than enough time with Giovinazzi, Gasly, and Sainz. How could you be unwelcome?"

Olivier shrugged, his eyes on the sunset. "It's not the same," He murmured. "They're all your colleagues. I'm the boyfriend. The one who's supposed to be there through thick and thin, but every time you win, you're in the arms of some other man. Every time you sign a new deal, you're wearing their colors, not mine."

With a grunt he lifted himself from the chair. Hastily he slid the door to their room open, trekking inside without as much as a glance towards his girlfriend. Sighing to herself, Michaela grabbed hold of the dreaded papaya polo, throwing it on and adjusting her lingerie underneath.

"Where are you going?" She called out as she stepped into the room.

Olivier didn't respond. He was already at the mini-bar, pouring himself a drink, the amber liquid sloshing into the glass with a sound that echoed in the room. His broad shoulders were tense, and his back was to her, a clear indication of his mood.

Michaela felt the anger build within her, but she knew this wasn't the time for accusations or defensiveness. She approached him slowly, her heart hammering in her chest like a drumline. "I didn't mean for it to be like that," She spoke with a tremble in her voice.

Olivier took a swing of his drink, not turning around. "It's just the way it is, isn't it?" He said, his voice cold and distant.

Michaela stepped closer, her heart pounding. She could feel the distance growing between them with every beat. "No, it's not," She insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You can come with me to every race, every event. I want you there."

Olivier downed the rest of his drink, his eyes never leaving the floor. "Do you?" He asked, his voice barely audible. "Or do you just want me there so you don't feel guilty?"

Michaela felt the force of his words like a slap to the face. She stepped back, her hand falling to her side. "What are you talking about?" She asked, her voice shaking.

Olivier turned to face her, his eyes dark and accusatory. "You tell me," He said, his voice low and menacing. "What happened in Tuscany? Why couldn't you answer any of my calls that night?"

Michaela's breath hitched in her throat. The memory of Jenson's arms around her, his whispers in her ear, flooded her mind, inescapable. "Olivier, that's not what this is about," She said, her voice strained.

He took a step closer, his eyes piercing hers. "Isn't it?" He demanded. "Or is it because you found someone else to fill the void when I couldn't be there?"

Michaela felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn't expected the conversation to turn this way—not here, not now. "What are you saying?" She whispered, her voice shaking.

Olivier's gaze was unwavering. "I know you, Mickey," He said, his tone even. "You don't do well with being alone in your big moments. And when I couldn't be there for you after your big day..."

Michaela's eyes grew wide with horror. "You think I cheated?" She managed to choke out.

Olivier's jaw tightened. "Did you?" He asked, his voice a knife's edge of accusation.

Michaela took a deep breath, her eyes searching the room for escape from the accusation. "Olivier, please," She begged, her voice shaking. "It's not like that."

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Isn't it?" He asked, his voice a low growl. "You tell me, Mickey. Did you or did you not spend the night with someone else when you should've been celebrating with me?"

"Celebrating with you?" She suddenly scoffed, remembering the circumstances that led to her fall in the first place. "Was I supposed to spend the night locked away in my hotel room getting drunk with you on Facetime?"

Olivier's eyes searched hers, looking for the lie she knew he wanted to find. "It's not like you to avoid me, especially after a good race," He said, his voice strained.

Michaela felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, straightening her spine. "I needed to be with someone who understood," She finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Olivier's eyes grew wide with shock, his handsome features contorting with disbelief. "Someone like who?" He spat out, the venom in his voice palpable. "Huh?"

Michaela took a shaky breath, her heart racing as she met his gaze. "Jenson," She whispered, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Olivier's eyes narrowed into slits, his fists clenching at his sides. "Jenson Button," He said through gritted teeth. "Your fucking teenage crush? Must have been a dream come true." The words left his mouth with an element of disgust. He reached for the bottle of alcohol again, pouring himself another glass.

Michaela felt the tears finally spill over her lashes as she watched him. "It was one night," She insisted. "I was just so... happy, and you weren't there."

Olivier took a long pull from his glass, the liquid fire burning down his throat. He slammed it down on the table, the sound echoing through the suite like a bullet. "One night," He repeated, his voice thick with anger. "That's all it takes to replace me, huh?"

Michaela felt the sting of his accusation, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "It wasn't about replacing you," She said, her voice trembling. "It was about feeling seen and supported."

Olivier scoffed, turning away from her to refill his glass. "That's bullshit," He spat. "You're just saying that as an excuse."

Michaela felt the rage build within her, a rage fueled by his accusation and her own guilt. She stepped closer to him, her eyes blazing. "How dare you?" She hissed. "You have no idea what it's like to be me. To be the first woman to stand on that podium. To be the most scrutinized athlete in a sport that's been dominated by men for decades. To be torn apart for the whole world to see every single time I step outside."

Olivier's expression softened, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—regret. "I do know," He said, his voice hoarse. "I see it every day. The way you're treated, the way they look at you." He took a step closer, reaching for her, but she stepped back, the gap between them feeling like an insurmountable distance.

Michaela wiped at her tears, her eyes glaring. "You don't know shit," She said, her voice shaking. "You don't know what it's like to be me. You don't care what it's like to be me."

Olivier's hand fell to his side, his shoulders slumping. "Michaela," He began, but she cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.

"Don't," She said, her voice thick with emotion. "Don't you dare try to act like you understand."

Olivier took a step back, his hands rising in surrender. "I'm sorry," He whispered. "I just..."

Michaela didn't let him finish. "You just what?" She challenged, her voice shaking with emotion. "You just don't get it? You just don't care?"

Olivier looked at her, his eyes pleading. "Michaela, baby," He started, but she was already shaking her head.

"Don't call me that," She said, her voice cold and unforgiving. "Not now."

Olivier's hand fell to his side, his eyes peering into hers. "What do you want from me?" He asked, his voice filled with pain. "What can I do to make this right?"

Michaela took a deep, shaky breath. "You can't," She said, her voice cold. "Not unless you truly support me. Not unless you understand that my career is as much a part of me as you are."

Olivier's eyes swelled, the depth of his love for her clear despite the anger and hurt that clouded his features. "I want to," He said, his voice honest. "But I need you to be honest with me. To include me."

Michaela felt the anger drain from her body, leaving only the heavy weight of her secret. "I know," She whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "But I was scared."

Olivier took a step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively to cup her cheek. "Scared of what?" He asked, his voice gentle.

Michaela leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cool skin. "Scared of losing you," She admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Scared that you wouldn't understand the pressure, the need for... something more."

Olivier's hand dropped from her cheek, his eyes unable to pull themselves away from her. "More than what?" He asked, his voice tight with unspoken fears.

Michaela took a deep, trembling breath. "More than just being my boyfriend," She replied, her voice a whisper. "Someone who understands the thrills and the agony. All of it."

Olivier's expression grew solemn as he took her in, his thumb gently brushing away the tears that trailed down her cheek. "I want to be that person," He said, his voice earnest. "But you have to let me in."

Michaela looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't think I can."

Olivier's hand stilled on her cheek, the room growing colder despite the warmth of the night outside. "Why?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Michaela swallowed hard, the pull of emotion weighed down on her chest. "Because it's not just about the racing," She said, her eyes never leaving his. "It's about the parties, the sponsor events, the constant scrutiny. And you... you've never been a part of that."

Olivier's jaw tightened, his thumb brushing away another tear that slipped down her cheek. "So, what are you saying?" He asked, his voice a mix of anger and sadness. "That I'm not good enough for you?"

Michaela's eyes gazed into his, the pain in her heart reflected in her gaze. "No," She said, her voice a whisper. "It's not about that. It's about you being you. And me being me. We can't do that and exist in this world together."

Olivier's hand fell away from her cheek, his eyes dropping to the floor. "What does that mean?" He asked, his voice thick with unfamiliar emotion.

Michaela took a deep, shaky breath. "It means that my world is changing," She said, her voice wavering. "And I don't know if there's room for us in it."

Olivier's eyes tore themselves from the floor and back to her face, the pain in his heart mirroring the ache in hers. "Is that what you want?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Michaela's heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces, the weight of her words heavy on her chest. "It's not what I want," She said, her voice trembling. "But it's what I need."

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[skzhocomments]

The Rising Empress (Bang Chan) - Chapter 8 - Envy and Power

General Masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

Taglist: @vxllxnsworld

---

Chapter 8 - Envy and Power

Chapter word count: 7.5k words

Each new day brings new opportunities, Aristia thinks as she steps out of her room with resolve. She wants to accomplish two things today:

1. Reading at least one book on the history of the Empire,

and

2. Punishing that maid – Juliana.

As her doors open, she is shocked to see someone else standing in front of her room; not her usual guard.

“Changbin?” Her eyes widen.

“Your Majesty.” He bows respectfully. “I’m glad to see you’re in good health.”

“What are you doing here?”

“His Highness informed me that I will be your personal aid from now on. I was supposed to come yesterday, but there was some… business… to take care of.”

“Business?” Aristia inquires and notices the way Changbin is carefully looking from left to right to make sure no one is able to hear them.

Her maids are a safe enough distance away.

“We needed to dispose of your father’s body.” He whispers, and Aristia is glad she now has Changbin, as she’s always thought of him as an open book that keeps her in the loop.

She truly didn’t expect Chris to give him to her, and the fact that he decided to do so before their talk yesterday warms her heart a little bit.

Changbin’s always been talkative, which she would exploit to the hilt.

“What did you do with it?”

“Burned it. We also made sure to lock all of his guards in the dungeon, to hopefully get some more information from them. The Emperor opted for that instead of killing them.”

“I see.”

“However, he decided to let one of them go and sent him back to the Kingdom with an official letter declaring war.”

Aristia’s eyes widened.

“Truly? Wouldn’t it have been better to play innocent to buy some more time?”

“The Emperor also thought of that, but Seungmin – one of his assistants – suggested owning up to it and blaming the King for your injuries. Would be better for the people’s morale, he said.”

“Seungmin… I see.” She smiles. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re going to be my personal guard. I’ll be in your care.” Aristia smiles and Changbin’s lips switch to a proud smirk.

“I’ll be the best guard in the world! You can count on me!”

“Great. Let’s go now.” She chuckles.

“To the dining room, I hope. I have strict instructions from the Emperor to make sure you eat this morning.”

“It’s not even morning anymore.” She chuckles.

“Even more so to not go on an empty stomach.”

Aristia rolls her eyes but follows Changbin to the dining room anyway.

She is on her own, but this time, her food comes out perfectly fresh and tasty. It turns out that starting the day with a good meal sets you up for a good mood.

~

“Alice, grab the third book on the second row there and put it in the stack. Ah, and the fifth book on the 8th row. They seem related.”

“I’m on it, Your Highness!” The young girl exclaims excitedly as she picks the requested books and places them in Juliana’s arms.

The second maid is now holding over a dozen books that look heavy to say the least. Her hands must’ve surely gone tired.

“Alright, I think this is all for today. Let’s go sit down at that desk over there. Do you know how to read, Alice?”

“Uhm… I do recognise most letters, but I’m still learning.” The young maid smiles.

“Great. Then pick up the third book in Juliana’s arms and sit down. I want you to know how to read and write. If you feel like you’re not able to do it on your own, feel free to say so, and I will arrange a tutor for you.”

“Your Majesty! I could never accept such grace… I will do my best!”

“Good.” Aristia smiles and pets the child on the head. She’s only 5 years younger, but they are on completely different levels as far as maturity goes.

Alice is still an innocent child, whereas Aristia never had the chance to grow up surrounded by such innocence. However, Aristia is aware that Alice was brought up in the Capital, which surely means that she’s clever to say the least.

“What should I do, Your Highness?” Juliana asks.

“Oh, you’re already doing your sole task of the day. You are to hold my books so I can get them easily.”

“But Your Highness, I could place them on a chair, or on a table, or-”

Aristia raises her hand in the air to stop her from talking.

“Have I requested your opinion?” She smiles cunningly.

“No, but-”

“Then stay there quietly, will you? This is a library.”

“But-”

“Juliana.” Aristia turns her whole body to face the maid. Her eyes are cold.

“I understand you are upset at me, however-”

“Upset at you?” Aristia chuckles. “Tell me, do the insects you pass by in the streets upset you at all?”

“Your Majesty…” Juliana’s eyes widen, unable to believe that the Empress compared her to an insect.

“Defy me one more time and you’ll wish you'd been born an insect instead.” She warns and slaps the top of the book stack as hard as she can, making Juliana lose her balance and drop all of them on the floor.

With a low chuckle, Aristia continues her torment:

“Oh my, look at the mess you made. You should clean that up and resume your position quickly. And be careful, the books are the Emperor’s property. If you damage one, you could be punished.”

Aristia sits down and opens one of the books, beginning to read about the founding rulers of the Empire. They are described as cruel, but well-respected between the people, and Aristia can’t help herself but think that she might be a bit cruel to Juliana as well.

She wonders if she’s at least well-respected outside the Palace’s walls, since she’s brought peace to the Empire. However, with the upcoming war, she starts to worry, and a new plan starts brewing in her mind.

She doesn’t pay much attention to it now, as she has something more important to focus on: her health, acquiring knowledge as soon as possible, and making sure she does a good job as the Empress.

After at least two of these conditions are met, she will execute the plan as well.

~

Aristia’s days are productive enough; with the library pass, she makes acquaintances with the books in the library and reads to her heart’s content. She thought it was going to be hard focusing on her books with Juliana throwing daggers with her eyes in her back, but it was surprisingly easy to ignore her, despite her sighing and fidgeting annoyingly often.

Juliana doesn’t even complain much anymore; she’s gotten used to Aristia telling her to clean the same spot on the floor over and over again, to carry heavy books and keep holding them, and to even run certain errands, although for the more important ones, Mari and Alice were mostly trusted to handle them.

Despite going to the library and reading every day, it’s been a period of resting for Aristia; her back is a bit better, with almost no risk of the wounds opening back up, she has been eating well and gaining a bit of weight, and she’s been sleeping well enough during the night.

With a new week starting, there are many things she wants to do: first of all, there’s the meeting with Seungmin and Jisung, who will have to teach her how to do her job as the Empress.

Then, there’s the matter of the court ladies. Ever since Arabella’s been sent away, they’ve all been living quietly between the Palace’s walls, most likely afraid they’re going to meet the same fate and have their lives uprooted by the cruel Empress, as they like to shush between themselves.

Although Aristia’s never been interested in what they have to say, she doesn’t want to let it go like this either. So, she decides to host a brunch and invite them all, to become acquainted properly. It’s about time they have a chat.

She settles on a time and place a few weeks away, and begins writing letters, sealing them with hot wax and with the Empire’s seal.

~

“It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Your Highness.” Han bows, and Seungmin follows suit.

After they introduce themselves, they sit down in front of Aristia’s desk. Chris has given her a room to turn into an office, specifically to do her job somewhere outside her bedroom.

“So,” Aristia begins, “let’s start from the beginning. What should I know about you two?”

“About us?” Jisung’s eyes widen. “Uhm, well-”

“We are mere subjects of the Emperor, Your Highness. There’s nothing of importance to be known about us.” Seungmin intervenes.

“Is that so? I’d still like to know what you two are like. If I am to choose somebody, I have to know who I’m dealing with, unless you’d be able to suggest a different method?” She challenges Seungmin, whose lips turn into a thin line.

Truth is, she already knows who she’s going to pick, but learning things about Chan’s people is never a bad idea.

“Your Highness, I’ve been training to become an advisor ever since I was born, as my father himself was an advisor.” Jisung replies, his cheeks growing a subtle pink tint.

“What became of your father?”

“He unfortunately caught a severe illness and never recovered. He left us a few years ago.”

“I see. I’m sorry for your loss. What about you, Seungmin?”

“As I mentioned, there’s nothing of importance Her Highness should know about me. I am but a clever man and the Emperor thought I deserve the honour of serving the Empire.”

“I believe the modest look doesn’t suit you too well.” Aristia attacks, but Seungmin only deflects.

“Regarding your future work, what exactly do you wish us to teach you?” He asks coldly. “We’ve been doing a very good job so far, so, perhaps Your Highness’ efforts would be better spent someplace else.”

“See, we don’t agree on that, unfortunately. I have enough knowledge in budgeting and accounting, but a brief explanation on how you’ve managed until now would be greatly appreciated.”

“We are in your service, Your Majesty.” Han bows.

“Thank you, Jisung. Then, what should I know of?”

The two men begin talking to the Empress, explaining all sorts of concepts regarding the way they’ve been dividing the work. It’s not simple, but it’s also not impossible, and with a bit of training, Aristia is sure she would have no issues taking over.

There’s a stark contrast between the ways Jisung and Seungmin are explaining things, she notices. While Jisung tries to explain every other term, unaware of how much knowledge Aristia possesses, Seungmin speaks unfiltered, using any term, no matter how complicated or hard to understand.

“So, who do you wish to assist you further?” Seungmin asks impatiently after about an hour. “As you might be aware, there are a lot of things to do, and keeping both of us here-”

“Yes, you’re right, Seungmin. Well then, Jisung,” she starts, and Seungmin places his hands on the handles of his chair, preparing to stand up, “you may go finish whatever work you have. Seungmin shall assist me from now on regarding this matter.”

“What?” Seungmin’s eyes grow wide, annoyance plastered all over his face, while Jisung bows and exits the room. “What do you mean? I thought that-”

“What, did you think that you’d get out of this if you acted like an asshole?” Aristia chuckles.

“Like an asshole-” Seungmin replies baffled, leaning back into his chair. “I see how it is. You think that because of that high title of yours, you can act however you please and everyone would bend over backwards for you and your wishes. But you see, Your Highness? Respect is not conveyed by your title, it’s earned. These cheap tactics might work on everyone else, but not on me.”

“And that goes both ways, Seungmin. You have yet to prove to me that you are worthy of my respect.” She answers with a sneer.

“Why me, then? Jisung is clearly a way better fit for you.”

“Because you declared war on the Kingdom.”

“Is that all? We have a common enemy and now you want us to be friends?”

“Nothing of that sort. I just found it a clever way to boost the people’s morale, as they now have a new objective in mind: protect the Empress at all costs. You did well.”

Seungmin sits straight in his chair and looks at Aristia, dead in the eyes.

“I will teach you, but only if you manage to solve this issue we’ve been having throughout the Empire.”

“A test?” She chuckles. “Let’s hear it.”

“The economy’s been plummeting for no apparent reason. We are the most prosperous in the continent when it comes to trades, and yet- just look at the Empire’s budget, and you’ll notice a gap.”

“Have you already solved this issue?” She asks.

“Not yet. It just came to our attention the other day when we rummaged through whatever papers we’d use to teach you.”

“That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?” Aristia chuckles, but Seungmin only smirks.

“Those are my terms. Take them or not, there is nothing for me to lose. You have until the end of the week to find a cause and a solution to this problem.”

“Fine. I shall think about it. You may go.”

Seungmin stands up, satisfied that he’s probably won a battle against the Empress. This is a delicate matter that neither he nor Jisung know the answer to so far, that has yet to be brought to the Emperor’s attention, so solving this task would most likely be impossible for Aristia. 

He is almost elated that he won’t have to teach her anything. His aversion is very much still there; before, he hated her because she was the King’s daughter, and now, he hates her because she caused ruckus by forcing them to start a war when they are still unprepared.

He simply dislikes her and everything she stands for, and this is not going to change.

~

Aristia studies long and hard about this. What could possibly cause the decline of the economy in such a prosperous nation?

She tries to recall every economy book she’s ever read, and she reads countless more in the following days, but still, she is unsure.

Could it be counterfeit coins?

That’s the only idea that comes to mind as she reads the 15th book on the topic this week, but even if this is the answer, what would a solution be?

Seungmin mentioned explicitly to ‘find a cause and a solution’.

Ugh. Aristia frowns and stands up to grab another book from Juliana’s stack. She’s not complaining as much this week.

She briefly glances through the large library’s windows and notices the dark sky outside.

How much time did I spend here today? She wonders, but it doesn’t matter, for tomorrow is already Friday, and unless she finds a solution as well, she’s doomed.

Of course, she could always study from Jisung, but there’s just something about Seungmin that she knows would make him a better fit for her. She likes his ideas.

As she sits back down at the table, she takes one more glance at Juliana and lets out a small sigh.

“Juliana, do you know how to read and write?”

“I do, Your Highness.” She replies quickly.

“I see. Put those books on the table and pick up the third one, the one about the noble families. I need you to write a summary for me about every relevant family of the Empire, their children, and specifically, their daughters.”

“Your Highness…” Juliana immediately follows soon, her eyes showing gratitude for the first time ever.

“I need your report by Monday.” Is all Aristia says. She’s punished Juliana enough, and she’s ready to finally give her a chance to be useful to her.

Before the maid can reply, Alice enters the library and comes running towards the table, and panting, she tells the Empress that she must go to her rooms immediately.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Aristia asks.

“It’s an urgent matter, Your Highness.” The young girl responds, so Aristia instructs Juliana to see to her task and put all the books back in their place when she’s done, while she follows Alice back to her rooms.

When they get there, a selection of nightgowns and lace underwear lays flat on the bed.

“What is this…?”

“My lady, His Grace sent word that he expects you in his rooms tonight, so I selected a few beautiful pieces appropriate for such an occasion.”

“Alice… what?” Aristia’s cheeks turn red. She examines the clothing once more, and she feels that same stomach dropping sensation she felt during her wedding night.

She also remembers the way Chris treated her that night, how he practically ripped her garments just to show her how easily it would be for him to overpower her, and she shudders.

Does he really want to lay with me?

“My Lady, I think this robe would be most appropriate, as it comes easily undone.”

“Alice, you’re barely 14 of age! How do you know about these matters?!”

“I have to serve Your Grace to the best of my abilities!” She counters and urges Aristia to get changed. “Besides, I’m 14, not 4.”

“Too young!” Aristia frowns but obliges and instructs Alice to get out of the room.

She feels nervous about this for some reason, as she examines herself in the mirror. Sure, she looks beautiful, but this attire is way too inappropriate and revealing!

Ugh, why does he want to see me?

And why do I have to wear this?

Aristia grimaces when someone knocks on the door and pulls her out of her thoughts. She quickly grabs something to put over the skimpy outfit and tells them to enter.

“Your Highness, are you ready to go?” Changbin asks, blushing at the sight of the Empress. Even though she is covered in a robe, he has a rich enough imagination to know what might happen tonight, she thinks, and this thought makes Aristia grimace again.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

The walk towards the Emperor’s chambers is quiet, as the hallways are empty so late into the night. Aristia yawns and suddenly feels tired, realising how many hours she spent in the library the past few weeks.

Even today, she lost track of time and it’s now a little bit past midnight. Why did Chris ask for her so late?

They reach the Emperor’s room and Lee Know nods shortly before opening the doors.

To her surprise, both him and Changbin follow her inside. She looks at them bewildered, before turning her gaze at Chris who was sitting at his desk and got up as soon as she entered.

“Good evening, Aristia.” He greets, then looks at her clothes and rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Clothes?” She replies, annoyed. She doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Yeah, I can see that, but- oh, God.” He goes to his wardrobe in slight annoyance and pulls out a thick fur coat, similar to the one she’s worn on her wedding night.

“Well, you asked for me at midnight, so I thought- ugh, nevermind, give me that.” She snatches the fur coat with annoyance and puts it on her shoulders, tightening it around her body. “Why did you send for me?”

“It’s time for you to hold your end of the bargain.”

“My end of the bargain?” She tilts her head in confusion.

“That’s right. I gave you Changbin, so it’s your turn to give me what you promised.” Chris points to the guard and chuckles, and Aristia rolls her eyes. Changbin blushes a bit more, unaware of the deal between them, but he is nonetheless flattered that Aristia asked for him specifically.

“Alright. Here?” Aristia asks.

“No. We have a meeting to go to, so let’s make haste.”

Chris goes to his large bookshelf and pulls out a few books, uncovering a lever. Aristia watches him with curiosity as he pulls down the lever and the bookcase begins to spin, revealing a secret passage.

“Come on.” He urges Aristia to go first, and she does, despite it being hard to see.

They walk for a good 10 minutes until they reach the far end of the passage that ends with a large wooden door. Chris takes out a key and unlocks the door, opening it, revealing a room with multiple other entrances, which indicates that multiple other bedrooms or common rooms must be connected together through passages throughout the Palace.

The walls of the room are covered with maps of the world and bookshelves, and in the centre, a large table with ten chairs around it occupies the space.

“Take a seat.” Chris instructs, and she follows his orders, sitting down at the table and looking at the faces of everyone around it.

She recognises some – Seungmin and Jisung – but there are also several men she’s never seen before around the palace. Most of them are a lot older than her and Chris, but there is also one man who seems around her age, with pitch black hair and fox-eyes dark enough to make anyone shudder.

They don’t bow at her, nor do they bother to introduce themselves, but their auras are all the same; they exude power, and she believes they must be strong individuals that have earned a spot at this table through their own devices.

A grin threatens to spill on her lips at the thought that she has also earned a seat at this gathering of formidable people, at least for tonight, but she is quick to control her expression the moment her eyes dart again around the unfamiliar figures, and she notices the way they are looking at her.

She doesn’t pose any significance to them, she’s not of any authority, and they don’t respect her. Especially the man her age, whose eyes look disinterested in her at best. If not for the golden crown on her head, no outsider would realise she’s Empress by these men’s behaviour towards her.

Everything changes on their faces the moment Chris sits down, though. The demeanour of these unfamiliar men morphs into something different, and they share a completely distinct look, contrasting the one they’ve given her. Chris’ simple presence projects strength, but in a different way compared to the other men.

The way his head sits on his shoulders, and the way he places his arms steadily on top of the table is so authoritative, it’s immediately noticeable that he has the power and that you must respect him, and every man around the table does so, undoubtedly.

Their eyes sparkle with veneration, and Aristia becomes, for the first time in her life, envious. She remembers the conversation she had with Chris, how she told him she wants more, but now that she is sitting at this secret meeting, the feeling only gets amplified a million times.

She wants way more. She wants power. She wants these people to look at her the same way they look at Chris, and she wants a permanent spot at this table.

“So,” Chris starts, looking at Aristia. He immediately notices that burning in her eyes that attracted him since day one, and his heart skips a beat. He starts wondering what could be going through her head, what made her eyes spark that way, but time is scarce and there’s more important matters to focus on. He continues. “Since we’re all here, let’s start the meeting.”

They start discussing various things, such as problems that arose between the nobles, a possible rebellion which might put the crown in danger unless they take action, and eventually, they move onto the most troubling matter: the upcoming war.

“Aristia, you told me you have some crucial information that might help us. Let’s hear it.” Chris urges her to speak, and for the first time since the meeting starts, she does.

“First of all, my father’s army is led by a very powerful man. He’s called the General, and you must’ve heard about him in legends, as he had won all his wars. All of the legends are true, and he is a truly frightening and strong man. However… in case you battle against him, there is a secret no one knows, a weakness.”

“Which is?” Lee Know asks, his sharp eyes observing Aristia.

“His left eye. He’s been stabbed in it, and his current eye is a prosthesis our doctor created specifically for him. It looks natural enough to fool anyone, but he has no sight from it.”

“That’s impossible. You said so yourself: the legends are true, which means he’s never been scratched in battle. How would he lose his eye?” Lee Know counters with scepticism.

“He didn’t lose it in battle. My father took it out when drunk one night. You see, he was overly fearful that people would betray him, so… he asked the General if he would sacrifice his whole life for the Kingdom and for him, and upon his agreement, my father asked him to prove it. ‘How?’ he asked. ‘You must give me something of importance. Something you truly value. Unfortunately, your limbs are crucial, so how about this?’ my father replied, and pulled out his blade. You can imagine the rest yourselves.”

“And how did you come to know about it?” Chris asks, and Aristia averts her gaze.

“I was there… when he stabbed him.”

“Alright… that’s good to know. His senses might not be as sharp on his left side, then.” Changbin nods.

“Now, what do you know of his army?”

“Right…” Aristia nods and starts explaining the way their army is divided. She seems to impress most people around the table with the knowledge she has on the matter, as it’s truly unexpected. She is even able to give an estimated number of soldiers from when she still lived in the Kingdom.

Most people are amazed, with the exception of the fox-eyed man, whose gaze remains dark and unchanging.

She decides to ignore his hostility and continues telling the men about the Kingdom’s usually discussed strategies, their strengths and their weaknesses, and she tries to convey as much information as possible, despite this not being her strong suit. Truth be told, she doesn’t know much about the military; it never interested her to read about. However, she does her best to remember what she’s heard her father and the General talk about, and by the end of her talk, Changbin and Lee Know, as well as three other men she doesn’t recognise that are sitting around the table begin talking about their own strategies, using the new intel from Aristia.

“Do you all know what you have to do?” Chris asks after a little while, observing everyone. They all nod, so Chris stands up. “Alright, then. We will retire for the night. I’ll see you in a week from now, unless other problems arise.”

He comes behind Aristia’s chair and helps her stand up as well, and he guides her back to the passage. He opens the large wooden door and steps through it with her, before locking it.

“What about Lee Know and Changbin?” She asks, noticing that it’s just the two of them, but her mind is still stuck on the meeting, and on the new information that a week from now, another one will be held.

One that she has no spot at.

Yet.

“They’ll go to their own rooms for the night when they’re done planning.”

“I see.”

The walk back to Chan’s room is quiet except for their steps that echo through the long passage. When they finally reach the room, the bookshelf turns back in its place, making it impossible to notice there is something hidden behind it, unless you knew it was there.

Aristia finds it fascinating.

“So…” She starts, pulling the fur coat closer to her. “I guess I should go.”

“It might be better to sleep here, or at least stay until the morning.”

“Here?”

“Unless you want people to start talking again about how you got kicked out in the middle of the night.” He chuckles, slight mockery behind his words. “You asked me to make you Empress, and I’m giving you a chance to secure your position.”

“What, do you want to sleep with me now?” She asks in slight annoyance.

“No, Aristia.” He sighs. “I’m just thinking of how to prevent any more rumours from circling around you. I won’t touch you, so you can relax. And next time I ask for you, don’t wear such scanty clothes, and there’ll be nothing to fear.”

She chuckles, to Chan’s surprise, and drops the fur coat, going to the large bed and pulling the covers off to make enough space for her to go under.

“How’s your back?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. Sometimes it’s sore, but Hyunjin comes to apply a salve if I ask for him.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks. Aren’t you going to come to bed?” She asks with a frown, noticing that Chris is heading to his desk.

“… No, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head with a smile.

“Why not? It’s big enough for both of us.”

“I just have some work to do. Worry not and go to sleep first.” He urges her, and she pouts a bit before covering herself with the comfortable duvet.

“Good night.”

“Night.”

She closes her eyes and lets herself listen to every sound Chris makes. He’s not loud at all; sometimes, he flips a paper, or tuts, or sighs, but other than that, she can only hear his breathing.

She continues laying on the bed with her eyes closed for some time, but despite being fully relaxed, it rubs her the wrong way that Chris keeps working instead of coming to sleep.

She decides to sit up and observes him for a while, until he notices she’s not asleep.

They look at each other for a few moments without saying anything.

“What are you working on?” Aristia asks eventually, supporting her head on her knees.

“I’ve been reading some reports from the Capital. It appears a new disease has been spreading and no one knows why. A lot of people have died already. Hyunjin’s team is investigating as well.”

“Oh.” Aristia replies. Once again, she’s out of the loop.

She’s at least glad that this time Chris is the one to fill her in, and not Changbin.

“What are the symptoms?” She asks.

“Stomach pain, vomiting, diarrhoea, cramps, fever… Hyunjin said it might be food poisoning. There was an issue with a trade a few years ago where the Empire received spoiled goods, and a lot of people passed away after eating them.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“We assumed it was a disease at first, we tried treating the symptoms, but as the people kept consuming the spoiled goods, they kept getting sicker. Hyunjin was, at that time, a doctor somewhere in the countryside, and he suggested which food is causing the issue. It’s what earned him a place in the Palace, actually.”

“That’s amazing, he’s a very talented doctor.”

“He is, indeed. I’m just dejected that we didn’t find him earlier. We’ve lost important people because of it.”

“Like… Jisung’s dad?”

“… Yeah. How do you know about him?”

“He told me the other day…”

“If only I would’ve met with Hyunjin earlier…”

“It’s not your fault.” Aristia tries to console him, but Chris still looks dejected. He looks back at his papers and then changes the subject, back to the Empire’s actual problem.

“I was looking at all the reports of the trades and trying to figure out what the spoiled goods might be this time.”

“Maybe it’s not food. It might be water.” She shrugs, and Chris raises an eyebrow.

“Water?”

“Yeah. Contaminated water… wouldn’t it lead to the same symptoms?”

“I’m not sure. I guess? I need to talk to Hyunjin about it tomorrow. How did you think of this, though?”

“I’ll tell you if you turn off the lamp and come here.” She grins and pats the empty space beside her in bed.

Chris chuckles but stands up anyway and comes to the bed to lay down. He doesn’t go under the covers; instead, he sprawls out on top of them, supporting his head with a hand while he watches Aristia with curiosity.

“Let me guess, you read about it in a book.”

“No, not this time.” She chuckles.

The air between them feels light and relaxed, and so she lays down as well.

“My mother’s maid has taken care of me since I was born. She was like a mother to me. Since I didn’t have the King’s affection, other servants mistreated me quite often, if my maid wouldn’t pay attention. I would get sick often, despite my food being fresh, and we couldn’t figure out why. One day, though, she caught one of the maids washing some apples with dirty water, and suddenly, all my stomach issues made sense. She took care of all my meals going further, until she passed.”

“Aristia…” Chris immediately frowns, seemingly upset about the new information. “You’ve received such harsh treatment ever since you were little…?”

“It’s fine. It’s all in the past.” She says, watching Chan’s gaze. Her eyes get adjusted quickly to the dark, and his sparkle in the moonlight.

“I’m sorry… how was it after she passed away?”

“Well … let’s just say that the way I was treated here was light compared to how it was in the Kingdom.” She chuckles lightly, but Chan’s expression only falls more.

“Do you want to talk more about it?”

“Not necessarily. Only if you want to hear it.” She shrugs.

“I want to hear it.”

She hums and thinks about how to begin, and a few seconds later, she resumes talking.

“I was given old food most days, and I would be sick often. I wasn’t allowed to get out of my rooms much, but thankfully I had access to the library. My father called for me one night and that’s when it all started… and it got progressively worse with each passing week. I never knew when to expect the next beating. It honestly broke my heart when he came here and did the same thing. I thought… I foolishly thought I’m safe here.” She lets out a bitter laugh that’s pulling at Chan’s heartstrings.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He places his hand on top of hers. “No one should ever have to go through something like this, let alone a child. And you are safe. You are safe here…”

“What was your childhood like?” Aristia smiles softly, trying to ignore his last words, as they seem meaningless. To her surprise, he actually opens up.

“My childhood?” He hums. “My parents were lovely people, but my mother passed away soon after Felix’s birth, and my father was poisoned a few years ago. That’s when I got on the throne. I was your age.”

“You became Emperor at 18, just as I became Empress at 18.” She replies in thought, knowing how much this title weighted on her shoulders. It must’ve been much more difficult for Chris, whose responsibility was so much bigger.

“Yeah.” He lays down completely, putting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes briefly. He feels tired, worn out, but he doesn’t think he can sleep.

He never can.

“How was he poisoned?” She asks almost in a whisper, making Chris open his eyes again.

“A noble’s son worked as a butler here. They were a loyal family, and that’s precisely why their son was sent here, but they were secretly planning a rebellion. We simply weren’t careful enough.”

“I’m sorry…” She gets out of her covers and lays down as well, on her side, looking at Chan’s side profile. He is a beautiful man, she notices once again, and she is reminded of the first time she’s seen his face in the church. It feels like a lifetime ago, even if it’s only been a year.

Back then, she would’ve never thought she’d spend a night with him talking casually like this.

“Is this why you can’t sleep?” She whispers again, and she decides to move one of her hands towards his head, ignoring her rapidly pulsing heart.

When her fingers touch his hair, she halts temporarily, waiting for a reaction from him, but he simply closes his eyes, so she digs her fingers deeper, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails.

“Yeah. It’s a sad realisation, knowing that you might get killed any second, unsure if you can truly trust anyone around you.”

Just then, he suddenly grabs her wrist and turns on his side as well, looking into her eyes.

“Can I trust you, Aristia?” He asks, but before she has a chance to answer, he continues speaking. “Tonight, at the meeting… you surely noticed that only important people are allowed there. I trusted you blindly, which resulted in everyone else trusting your words as well. I didn’t make a mistake, did I?”

She immediately shakes her head.

“But how can I know that?” He whispers and releases her wrist, showing a sad smile. “Can you prove it somehow?”

“How, Chris?” She asks. Her chest grows tight, as his expression is tugging at her heart. She’s never before wished so strongly for someone to believe her.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but then begins talking again, and his words simply don’t sit right within her heart.

“I guess there’s no way to find out before it happens. If I am to die in this war-”

“I’m sincere, Chris. You can trust me.” She says with resolve and breathes in, trying to get enough courage to move. She decides to stop thinking so much, and closes her eyes tightly, getting closer to him and pressing her lips against his.

Chris opens his eyes wide and doesn’t understand what’s going on for a few seconds. Aristia moves away and is glad for the darkness of the room, as her cheeks must be blood red.

“Uhm, I-” She starts, but is cut off by Chan’s lips on hers, his left hand finding its way to her waist, holding it tightly.

Their kiss deepens as Chris bites her lower lip, making her gasp slightly, moment when he slides his tongue inside her mouth.

Their tongues touch numerous times feverishly, and Aristia’s right hand finds Chan’s neck. They keep kissing passionately, gasping for air, when Chris ends up on top of her. She makes space for him between her legs as her hands move to his back, fingernails touching him through his shirt, and when they get down enough, she finds a patch of skin around his lower back, and she slides her hands under.

Chris can’t get enough of her sweetness, and he keeps kissing her passionately until he feels her nails scratching his back, and he pulls away to look at her. She looks so beautiful under him, moonlight radiating on her skin, and fuck, her skimpy clothes are not helping the growing bulge in his pants. He wants to devour her completely, to make her his, and his fingers move to the small cord keeping her nightgown together.

He hesitates for a few seconds, looking into her eyes that seem as full of desire as his. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes that enticed him since day one with their powerful, alluring burning.

“May I?” he asks, and she nods eagerly, closing her eyes in anticipation. This is a stark contrast to their first night, when, despite them not sleeping together, he ripped her robe open to show her how easily it is to overpower her.

He doesn’t want to overpower her this time, or control her, or dominate her. He simply wants to bring her pleasure, and to chase his own by using her body, as long as she wants it as well. He wants them to be Emperor and Empress, husband and wife, equal to one another as they become one.

Having her accord, his fingers untie the robe that reveal her underwear quickly: a two-piece lacy set that hugs her body perfectly. He touches her breasts through the lace bralette, and she lets out a soft moan, rolling her head back.

“You’re so beautiful, Aristia.” He whispers, connecting his mouth to her neck, sucking patches of skin and marking her with his kisses.

She arches her back at the contact, and Chris takes advantage of this moment by sliding his hands under her, unclasping her bra. He takes it off swiftly, watching her breasts bounce as her back connects to the mattress once more.

He moves his mouth lower, taking her left breast into his hand as his lips latch onto her right, and he begins sucking on her nipple, while his fingers play with the other.

Aristia squirms under him, trying desperately to clench her legs together as she feels her arousal building up, but Chan’s body is still between her legs, so she is unable to move much. However, he notices her urgency, so he decides to spare her of her suffering.

He begins moving his mouth lower, and when he reaches her abdomen, he presses a long kiss on her belly as his fingers entangle the hem of her underwear, beginning to take it down.

“Chris, I- oh, God.” She moans as his mouth connects to her core, licking her clit eagerly. She rolls her head back again, and she’s never felt as much pleasure before. An unfamiliar feeling settles deep in her stomach, as she moans louder and tries to move away from him.

However, his hands on her thighs keep her in place, and he continues licking that sweet spot until she comes undone with a loud whine.

He begins kissing his way up her body again, and when he gets on top of her, he presses a long kiss against her lips.

“How was it?” He asks, looking into her eyes for any second-thoughts or doubts. He doesn’t find either. Her eyes are burning up more than ever, with a passion stronger than he’s ever seen before, and instead of replying, she raises her head to kiss him again, and she’s the one biting his lips this time.

Her hands find the hem of his shirt and she urges him to take it off, watching in awe how perfect he looks. His body is as beautiful as his face, extremely toned and pleasant to the eyes.

She holds her breath in anticipation as he takes his pants down, and when he presses his hard dick against her entrance, she closes her eyes instinctively and holds her breath.

She tries counting seconds in her head instead of thinking of all the books she has read about the female anatomy and the stinging pain a woman has on her first night, but she tenses up, nonetheless.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” Chris asks, touching her face tenderly with his hands and making her open her eyes again and release her breath.

“I’m just… scared.” She replies honestly in a small voice, it comes out as a whisper. “It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” He nods. “But I’m not going to hurt you deliberately. I’ll be as gentle as I can, and if you decide you can’t take it, we can stop anytime.”

“Do you promise?” She whispers again, and all of a sudden, she feels exposed and vulnerable. All the confidence she had until now, gone, in the blink of an eye. “Do you promise not to hurt me?”

“Yes.” He answers quickly, resolve lacing his tone. “I don’t want to hurt you. I promise.” He continues, pressing a kiss on her neck.

“Alright…” She nods unsurely and buries her head in Chan’s shoulder, her hands hanging onto his back for dear life.

He begins pushing in, and she feels a slight pain, but it’s nothing as bad as she thought.

“Ugh…” She lets her head fall back on the bed, looking into his eyes, noticing how closely he observes her.

“Can you take more?”

“Yeah…” She nods, and he pushes in some more, until he bottoms out into her. The stretch is uncomfortable, but Chris is not rushing her; he lets her get adjusted to him before he begins moving slowly, and soon enough, his slow thrusts get more momentum, and the pain mixes with pleasure.

Her hands release his back momentarily, until she connects them to it again, digging her nails in his skin softly. She also adjusts her position and moves her legs around his waist, allowing him to dive in even deeper than before and hit an angle she never thought possible.

“You’re so good…” Chris praises, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, and with no warning, he stalls on top of her, panting heavily.

He pulls out and she feels something warm dripping out of her, before Chan’s fingers find her pussy again, rubbing it. He moves his other hand as well, making two fingers enter her, curling up and touching that sweet spot from inside as he keeps rubbing circles on her clit.

She comes undone for the second time with ease, gripping his arm to signal him to stop.

He does, and comes back on top of her, taking some stray hairs out of her face and tucking them behind her ear, as he kisses her lips.

“Was it that bad?” He asks, and she shakes her head.

“I was expecting… the worst, honestly.” She laughs. “You were really good. Thank you for being patient with me.”

Chris is the one who lets out a laugh this time. Who thanks their partner like that?

Nonetheless, he is glad she also had a good time, as this experience came as a surprise to him. He never planned to bed her, and the way it happened, the way his heart kept beating faster and faster until his desire became almost impossible to control, caught him completely off guard.

Hell, his heart is still beating way too fast for his own liking, and her plump lips look so inviting, he wants to kiss her over and over again.

“We should head to sleep.” He says instead, and she nods softly.

Chris aids Aristia in getting under the covers, and he follows suit shortly, but his body suddenly feels cold, empty, like something is missing.

He turns to look at her again, his eyes softer than ever before, and he grabs her body, making her come into his arms.

She responds to his touch and snuggles into his chest, and they fall asleep, cuddled against each other.

~

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 3,705

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of blood/anxious lip picking, anxiety attack, talk of self-harming behaviors, mentions of abuse/toxic relationships/neil, fluff

a/n: wow. hi! i’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out. school has been a lot lately. thank you for all the positive feedback on the previous parts and for sticking around! also this isn’t the last part. i lied. there will be one more. anyhow there’s a lot of heavy stuff in this part, but also a lot of love. i hope you enjoy it and maybe find something in it. love you loads and loads <3333

before you read, listen to: when it’s cold i’d like to die by moby and/or slipping through my fingers by ABBA

————

Billy did not hear from you yesterday, or the day before that. He hasn’t been worried, per say, because it’s not like he’ll die if he can’t speak to you at all times.

But today, on the third day, he starts to be a little upset by the absence of you.

He really doesn’t like it when it’s Nicky that calls him, rather than you.

“Are you busy today, hon’?” Her voice is sweet as always.

“No, I’m not,” Billy tells her. He licks his lips, a little uneasy.

“Do you think you could come over for a while?”She asks. “Y/N just left, which is big, but she’s going out with some old friends, and I’m a little worried. She had a really hard time getting over them, and I’ve got somewhere to be for awhile and I just don’t want her to be alone after all of this.”

Nicky stops, inhaling. She realizes she’s been rambling to her poor boy. She starts to apologize, and Billy stops her, laughing a little.

“I can do that, yeah. Who was she having lunch with? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He can hear Nicky sigh.

“Nancy.”

————

Billy is on your front steps when you pull up. He’s smoking, but he stomps it out when he sees you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he says.

Your hands are shaking so bad that you drop your keys. Billy picks them up for you, and it’s only when he looks you over that he realizes something’s not right.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You’re wringing your hands continuously, as if trying to prevent doing something else. He steps closer to you, because you’re biting his lip, and he goes to pull it free like he always does.

There’s blood on the tip of his thumb when he pulls it away.

“Y/N, you’ve made yourself bleed.”

You lick your lips, tasting metal. You blink at him. Billy looks closer at your mouth, realizing there’s a welt and that it’s swollen on one side.

“Come on and let me clean it up, okay?”

You nod and let the boy lead you inside your home. Billy tries to get you to sit on the counter, but you stop him.

“I just need a second,” you say.

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him thus far, and Billy finds himself relieved to hear your voice, even if the shakiness of it matches that of your hands.

You use your hands to brace yourself against the counter, leaning your head forward to face the floor. You close your eyes and try to breathe.

Billy doesn’t know what to do, so he rubs his hand up and down the curve of your spine. It feels warm against your back.

He kisses the crown of your head and suddenly you straighten, a slightly panicked look in your eye, though Billy can tell you’re trying to repress it.

“I need you to help me,” you tell him, running your hands down your face.

“Anything,” Billy says, worried over your state of being.

“I’m having an anxiety attack and I need you to help calm me down because my heart is beating so fast that I feel like I can’t breathe and everything is shaking and I just—I just, I need you.”

“To talk to me or something. I need you to be here with me for a minute.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t need convincing.

Billy brings his hands to your face, stroking his thumbs over your unusually warm cheeks. His eyes dart all over you.

“Look at me,” he says.

You nod, locking your eyes with his. You study his eyelashes, the way they kiss at the corners and leave shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the light.

“Breathe with me.”

“Okay.”

In and out. In and out. You focus on the way Billy is breathing, and that seems to help. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest rather than worrying about the feeling in yours.

“How long do they usually last?” Billy inquires. “The heart palpitations.”

“Little while. Half hour, little less, little more. Depends on if I can get myself calmed down.”

Billy presses his lips to your forehead, keeping them there for a moment. They’re chapped, but it’s still chilly outside, so it makes sense. The cold is the same reason for the cracks in the skin on the back of your hands.

“Sit up on the counter for me, baby. I’m gonna get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

You do as he says, balancing yourself on the edge of the bathroom vanity. Your tongue darts out to swipe over your lip, and Billy was right. You can feel the swelling and the welt he mentioned.

You’ve always done it when stressed or uncomfortable. It’s not always this bad though. You just kept going and going after lunch today, even after it had started to bleed.

The boy returns as he’d said he would, a glass of water in hand. He gives it to you and watches to make sure you’re successfully drinking.

“Can I look at it?” Billy gestures vaguely in the direction of your lip.

“Uh huh.” You fight the urge to cover your mouth like you have before, like when your mother has noticed it’s scabbed.

Billy uses his thumb to press on your lip, examining the damage you’ve done to it. He’s chewed his before when anxious, but never like this. But he guesses he’s expressed these feelings you’re having in other ways.

He takes the change to pull at your lip a little too, noticing you’ve torn at the inside just as well as the outside.

“It hurt?”

You snort. “No. Feels great.”

Billy rolls his eyes at you, and then he’s feeling around in his pockets. You take another big sip of water while you’re observing him. It’s almost empty, so you decide to finish it. He waits for you to do so.

When you have, Billy swipes his pinky along the edge of your mouth to catch a drop of water. He presents what he’d been searching for: a little pot of chapstick. He figures if you’ve got something on your lips you can’t fuck them up as easily.

“You gonna let me put this on you?” He asks, features soft.

“Kiss it better first?”

Billy smirks, proud of your ability to flirt with him.

“I shouldn’t. Should leave it alone until it heals some.”

You pout.

He kisses you anyways.

When he pulls away, he unscrews the lid to the balm and you hook your fingers in his belt loops. He dips his index finger in and brings it to your mouth, spreading it over the sore spot and then over the remaining expanse of your lips.

You rub them together after he’s finished.

“Thank you.” Billy nods, returning the container to the depths of his jean pockets.

“Will you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He helps you off of the counter. You leave the bathroom and head to your bedroom. He follows without a second thought.

You gesture for him to sit down, but you remain standing so that you can pace as you speak.

“I saw Nancy today.”

“Yeah?” Billy knows this, and you know he does, but he wants you to let it all out.

“Yeah,” you start. “She asked me how I was doing. I told her that I was doing okay.”

“And she said ‘You must be doing better if you’re out by yourself, doing big girl stuff.’ What the fuck does that even mean, Billy?” It’s a rhetorical question. One he doesn’t answer.

“She made it sound like I was incapable of being anything but a loner. Like I can’t take care of myself or something? It just got me thinking about how she always thought I was so odd for not being like her.”

Billy wishes you would sit down. Your pacing is stressing him out.

“Then Nancy asked me if I was seeing anyone, and I said you.”

You sit, and Billy’s shoulders relax.

“She acted surprised, Billy.”

“She said, ‘I guess I’m just shocked. I guess I thought he wasn’t someone that really dated.’ And then, ‘You know, I know we aren’t really close anymore, but you could so do better than him.’”

You’re standing again. Billy realizes that you’re pissed off. He’s never seen you this way before. He kind of likes it.

“And she’s basing this off of, what, one interaction she’s had with you? Whatever she hears around school? Shit, she doesn’t even know you. She doesn’t even know me anymore, and the fact that she’s just blatantly giving me relationship advice?”

“Billy, I yelled at her.”

He laughs. Tosses his head back and laughs. He wishes he could’ve seen you rip Nancy Wheeler a new one. In fact, he would’ve paid to do so.

You start grinning at him. He’s so proud of you.

“I just—she made me so mad and I just started shouting at her. It just felt so unfair, the way she was acting. I only agreed to go today because I thought I might get closure after feeling forgotten about for so long. And I told her that.”

“She claimed she didn’t forget about me, but that she just ‘found a different social circle.’ Fuck! So I told her that she had no right telling me what to do with my life when she sure as shit never cared before. And I couldn’t let her talk about you either.”

You finish, setting your hands on your hips. Billy stands and takes your face into his hands again.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. That you went out today and then stood up for yourself. The yelling is pretty badass too. And I appreciate you defending me. It’s nice to know you’d do that even when I’m not there.”

“Of course I would.” You grab his hand and kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

He nods. “So how come you fucked up your lip then?”

“Trying to deal with it, I guess. I felt bad the whole way home. Like maybe I’d been a bitch or something.”

“Hey, no. You aren’t a bitch for wanting better and for saying so.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.”

The both of you have been so caught up in handling this that you didn’t hear Nicky come home, or wander through the house putting groceries away. You only realize she’s there when her voice comes from across the hall.

“He’s right, honeybee! Not a bitch!” She exclaims, and then she’s shutting the door to her room. She just needed to make sure you heard that. She’s proud of you too.

You bury your face in Billy’s neck and he’s laughing so much that you have to move your head.

“I hate you both.”

“I bet you do. Guess you won’t need any make-it-better kisses then.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah. Nope. No more.”

“Please?” You grab hold of his hips.

Billy stares at you. He’s going to break. You both know it. But he can’t resist the urge to pretend like he won’t, just for a second.

He kisses you, once, twice.

When he pulls away he puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingertips slip just underneath the waistband of your jeans. Suddenly he looks very serious.

“Have you done that before?” He asks. You know what he means. And you know the answer.

“Yes,” you say. Billy closes his his for just a second. Something about composure.

“Do you—is it to hurt yourself?”

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to articulate a response to this. It’s an anxious habit, sure. Sometimes you’re picking at your lip without even realizing, and you quit when you do.

But other times, maybe that is the case. You pick and bite until your lip is bleeding, until it’s swollen, until it hurts to eat or drink.

“Sometimes.”

Billy inhales and you can see the way his chest shakes.

“Talk to me,” he says. He thinks about chewing on his thumb nail or lighting up. It’s the same thing. A coping mechanism.

“I usually do it if I feel like I need to shut everything out. It’s a distraction from big feelings. Maybe like a punishment if I feel stupid or if I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“You ever told anyone this before?” Billy has pulled you closer than you thought possible, his arm around your back snug like he’s afraid to let you go.

“Just you.”

Billy feels a pang in his chest at that. Just you. Him.

“I don’t want you to shut them out anymore. You feel something big, you talk to me about it, yeah?”

“Okay.” You look so vulnerable. Like he’s looking at a part of yourself you’ve never shown anyone before.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Will you work on this with me?”

“Only if you work on the smoking with me.”

Billy rests his forehead against yours, exhales through his nose.

“Okay.”

————

Billy’s staying the night again. You’re in the shower, so he’s sitting at the counter in your kitchen. He offered to help Nicky fix dinner or wash dishes or do something, but she downright refused.

He’s turned his head to look at a picture of you on the counter. Your senior picture. You look so pretty.

This means that the side of his face is in Nicky’s direct line of sight. The side that Neil hit. He side that’s bruised, despite his hoping it wouldn’t.

Nicky looks up, feeling a jolt in her chest. Something in her just knows. If Billy had been in a fight, you would’ve told her. She knows you would’ve. But if it was a non-school fight, those chances are slim.

She knows. Every cell in her body screams with it.

“Billy, honey? Can I ask you something?”

The boy turns back to face your mother, spinning the ring on his middle finger around and around. “Sure.”

She moves to face the sink so as to not embarrass him.

“How long?”

Billy’s fingers freeze. She knows. Of course she knows. He thinks about pretending he doesn’t have clue what she means. But he knows she’d see right through that.

He buries his face in his hands. “Since I was a kid. Since he couldn’t take it out on my mom anymore.”

Nicky sets the plate she’d been holding down to dry and drains the water from the sink. Dishes can wait.

“Billy, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe here. I think we’ve made that pretty clear, sweetheart.”

The boy straightens and sits on his hands.

“I’m assuming Y/N knows? Probably already looked at it?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Nicky approaches the other side of the counter from where he sits and clasps her hands. “You know that you can come here anytime you need to, right?”

“I know.”

“Y/N said Max is your step-sister. Is your father aggressive towards her or your step-mother?”

Billy hates being asked these questions but for some reason he feels no urge to fight it. He knows Nicky means no harm and only wants the best for him.

“He’s never laid a hand on Max, no. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m not really around Susan much, though, but I’ve never seen her with anything or heard him do anything. He screams at her sometimes, though. He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t treat her any better than he did my mom. They deserve better. Both of them.”

Nicky quirks a brow. “And you don’t?”

Billy’s breath catches. “I don’t know.”

“You do. You deserve the world, hon’.”

Billy blinks, hard. “Thank you.”

“Just telling you the truth, kiddo.”

Nicky goes quiet for a moment, playing with her own rings. One of them you got for her when you were twelve. It has her birthstone set into it.

“You’re eighteen, Billy. Technically your dad doesn’t have any claims to you anymore.” She’s slowly plotting, a steady stream of thoughts forming in her mind.

“Supposing you want to stay with Max, or even in your own home—because I can’t imagine you’d want to be uprooted again—do you think that Susan is capable of taking care of herself and the both of you? Say if Neil weren’t around?”

Billy contemplates this. He’s trying to get past the knowledge that there’s an adult in his life actively and genuinely trying to help him and make sure he’s safe. No one’s ever had a heart-to-heart with him like this. Frankly, he’s at a loss.

“I suppose so. I mean she took care of Max before. And Max was a pretty happy kid, I think. You know, internally. If you look past the sarcasm.”

Nicky laughs. It’s the kind of sound that you miss when you haven’t heard it in awhile.

“I think Max only got sort of reclusive once Neil came in and sort of pushed her dad out. I don’t think I helped either. But yeah, I-I think she could. Take care of us.”

“And I feel wrong saying this, because she’s not my mother, and it’s her life, but I think she needs better. If she wants Max back then she needs to leave Neil. Because Susan is losing Max. I can see it.”

Billy hears the shower shut off from down the hall, the sound of the curtain being pushed aside.

“What if I talked to Susan? Would that make you uncomfortable? Maybe I can get through to her. About Neil. And I can talk to Max, or I can back off.”

He hears the bathroom door open. Sees a flash of you across the hallway in a towel, then the slam of your own bedroom door. It makes him laugh.

Nicky knows exactly what you’ve done. You’ve done the same thing since you were a kid. It warms her heart to see him laugh at little things like that.

“No. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable,” Billy says. “I would appreciate that, actually. But maybe let me talk to Max first?”

“Anything you need, honey. And I want you to know that this is a safe space, okay? If you ever need somewhere to stay. And the same goes for Max. If she needs to get away or anything.”

Billy looks up at Nicky and she has the kindest smile he’s ever seen. He knows she means everything she’s saying.

He has the urge to hug her and so he does. He hasn’t had a mom to hug in so long.

————

Billy’s driving again. It seems this is the only time he can get himself to talk about the hard stuff with her.

“Max.”

“Huh?” She’s reading a comic book. He doesn’t know how she does that. He’d probably hurl.

“Nicky wants to help Susan leave Neil.”

Max doesn’t move or close the comic, but she does stare at the page for an awfully long time. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But I was wondering…do you want me to leave too? Or can I stay?”

Billy has never sounded this raw and emotional around her before. It’s enough to make her face him.

“You think you have to leave?”

“I don’t know if you or Susan are going to want me to stay.”

Max sighs. “I want you to stay. It’d be weird to not have someone in the next room with horrible music playing. Do you want to go?”

“No,” he says, fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“Then stay.”

Stay.

————

“So you’ve verbally brutalized two of the Wheeler women in the last couple of weeks?”

You’re laying on Max’s bed. You can’t help but notice it’s softer than Billy’s but you try not to ponder that for too long.

Susan and Neil aren’t here.

“I wonder if Mike knows this. That he’s got a predatory mother.”

“I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and stare at the posters on her walls.

“If it helps,” she says, pasting a new sticker on her skateboard, “I never liked Nancy anyways. Kinda bitchy.”

You snort, looking at her sticker as she presents it to you. “Very nice,” you say.

“Lucas got it for me.”

“That was sweet of him.”

This time she snorts.

There’s the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Uh oh,” you say. “The beast has awoken.”

Max laughs hard enough that she has to slap a hand over her mouth when he appears in the doorway.

Billy looks at you with a scowl on his face before approaching Max’s bed. He flops down on top of you and buries his face in your neck.

“You left me,” he says.

It’s true. You’d been in his room with him, snuggling, though he refuses to call it that. He’d fallen asleep on you, but you didn’t have a book or anything, so after a while, spine aching, you slipped out and left him to nap.

A glance at Max and she’s making a gagging motion at you. You glare toward the sticker she just put on and she rolls her eyes, cornered.

“You fell asleep. I wanted you to rest. And my back started to hurt.” Billy grunts, and you notice the mess that his hair has become. You point it out to Max. She starts grinning and so do you, and it’s as if he can sense it.

“Stop.”

“Not doing anything.”

Billy lifts his head to look at you, brow furrowed and eyes puffy with sleep. There are even sheet marks on the side of his face.

“You’re conspiring.” He collapses back into your chest. “Little shits, both of you.”

You laugh and he whines again because you’ve jostled him.

You look at Max and she crosses her legs over Billy’s back, using her brother as a foot rest. He’s too sleepy to complain. She puts a pillow under her head and settles in, seemingly ready to take her own nap.

Shit, you think. Might as well. And you close your eyes too, petting Billy’s hair as you do. He smiles into you. You can feel it.

And it’s the best nap you’ve ever had.

————

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