#i just hope that this afternoon there will be some people at the emergency meeting who will be able to talk some sense

[wonderwomemes]

i'm not very vocal on here about what's going on around Israel but i'm currently loosing my mind by the fact that the attack from Iran is framed as this unspeakable escalation, while A most of the missiles were shot down with the help of the US, B the only confirmed death is a Palestinian man and C meanwhile there was an Israeli strike on another school which was used as a shelter for Palestinian refugees, killing 17-30 people (depending on the source).

This is insane. Like the way the US is framing all of this is making me so angry what the fuck are you people doing? Israel is provoking this war left and right (literally on all borders) and you call the Iranian reaction a provokation??? are you out of your mind?

And then the fucking US correspondent had the gall to go all ''oh the US doesn't have any interest in full on war in this area, especially not so close to an election'' like how stupid do you think the rest of the world is?

fucking hell

[dilemmaontwolegs]

It Started With A... || CarLandOscar

Summary: Whoever thought love was limited to one person was an idiot. Love had no limits and you knew that better than most when a rookie found himself carving out a third of your heart. Warnings: established relationships, fluff, angst, pining. WC: 7.5k

It started with a smile. It was stiff and polite and made you pity the rookie who was being introduced to everyone so fast he would surely forget their names. 

“It took me a few months, but you’ll figure out who is who,” you encouraged him as the welcome committee went back to work in the factory and Oscar looked for guidance on where he was meant to go next. 

“I hope so. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you in the PR team?”

You looked down at your black skirt and white blouse and thought you probably did look like someone from PR or legal. “Contrary to belief, I am actually what people would call a PR nightmare,” you said as you held your hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N, Lando’s girlfriend.”

“It's nice to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you around here a lot then.”

You smiled ruefully and shook your head. “I’m studying at Royal Holloway but we wanted to be here for your first day so we stopped by.”

You looked around for Lando and found him returning from the cafeteria with a takeaway coffee cup in his hand. “I wondered where you went,” you teased as you happily accepted the hot drink and the kiss he placed on your cheek. 

“Figured you needed this, love. I kept you up pretty late for a school night.” Lando nudged Oscar and winked. 

The Australian’s ears turned pink and you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's humour. “He was steaming until some ridiculous hour this morning. You’ll probably find him crashed out on a couch somewhere this afternoon while I will be struggling through lab tech.”

“You’re the smartest person I know, I don’t think you even need to go to class.” Lando tipped your chin back, giving you a deep kiss without care that his new teammate was watching the interaction. “We should go, love, don’t want to make you late again. You want to come for a ride too?”

“Shouldn’t I go inside?” Oscar asked as he looked to the double doors that led into the employee only section.

“They want us to do a few icebreaker promo vids to get to know each other so you’ll just be waiting around for me to get back anyway.”

“You should probably get used to that, he likes to keep people waiting,” you joked. 

“When have I ever kept you waiting?”

“I’m still waiting for a win.”

Lando chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. “I’m working on that. Hard.”

You cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb over his pouting bottom lip. “I know you are, baby, and it’s gonna come.”

Oscar cleared his throat and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “I can just go wait inside.”

“Nah, come on,” Lando said as he grabbed his keys from his pockets. “You should see where her classes are in case there's an emergency.”

You frowned in confusion. “An emergency?”

“Yeah, like if I’m running late.” Lando draped an arm over your shoulder and led the way to the handful of reserved parking spots near the front door. “It’s only 15 minutes down the road.”

Lando opened the passenger door to his Range Rover and you glanced at Oscar who just smiled and opened the back door. “I’m okay back here,” he said as he climbed in. You settled into your usual seat but adjusted it to give Oscar’s longer legs some extra room. 

The drive took a little longer with the tail end of rush hour traffic but it seemed to pass quickly with Lando and Oscar making small talk. You could almost feel Lando’s excitement vibrating off him when he spoke about the upcoming season while Oscar was far more reserved. You quickly understood that he was merely the quiet type, not that he wasn’t excited. 

“You should come over for dinner,” Lando said, one hand resting on your thigh while the other steered. “I’m heading back to Monaco this afternoon but I’ll be back for the weekend.”

He squeezed your leg when he caught your eyes dropping down at the reminder. “It’s only a few days, love.”

“I know, doesn’t stop me from missing you.”

Oscar tried to turn his attention to the scenery out the window, feeling intrusive in the intimate moment, but Lando caught his eyes as they glanced over you. “Oscar could keep you company. Maybe you could show him around Surrey?”

Oscar’s eyes widened as if he had been caught red handed and his cheeks flamed again. “I, uh, sure, I mean, you’re probably busy studying though.”

“I can make time. I actually get through it a lot quicker without this distraction in the house. Who would have thought?”

Lando gasped, “Me, a distraction?”

“Mhmm, you always need attention, baby. But that’s okay, I still love you.”

“Good to know.” Lando dropped a lopsided grin and winked before pulling up to the front of the Science Block. “I love you too, and don’t forget Carlos is picking you up this afternoon.” 

You leaned across the gearbox and kissed Lando farewell before turning to Oscar. “It was really lovely to meet you.”

“You too. Should I get your phone number?”

“Asking for my girlfriend’s number in front of me,” Lando scoffed. “Mate, that’s fucking rude.”

You slapped Lando’s arm and he burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face. Classic.”

You smiled apologetically to the Aussie. “I’ll put it in your phone,” you offered as you held out your hand for the device. You quickly entered the number and hit the green icon until your phone rang in your pocket before taking a selfie and adding it to the contact. “There, now you’ll remember who the name belongs to.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, taking the phone back. “I would’ve just put ‘Lando’s Missus’.”

“I like that, you can still update it,” Lando chuckled. “It’s a good title.”

“One I’m still waiting for,” you said as you waved your empty ring finger. The movement drew your attention to the watch on your wrist and you swore as you saw class was about to begin. “Bye, baby, have a safe flight.”

You bundled up your bag but when you reached for the door it was already opening and you gave Oscar a quick hug as you stepped out. “Bye, Osc.”

Half the students had disappeared into the halls and you speed walked up to the heritage building where you would spend the first half of your day.

Lando watched you walk away while Oscar took the front seat. “You’ve done something right,” he commented as he put the SUV in reverse, “it took me two weeks to get a nickname.”

A dark blue Ferrari was surrounded by dozens of students when you left your last class and you cradled your textbooks tighter, prepared to bustle your way in. Carlos had been keeping an eye out and was quick to spot you leaving the building. He moved assertively through the crowd and met you at the edge of the circle so he could use his body to shield you. 

“Nice and inconspicuous,” you teased him when you were safely deposited into the passenger seat.

“Sorry, hermosa, the flight was delayed. I didn’t have time to go home and switch cars.” He drove slowly as the last of the fans moved aside and tried to peer through the tinted glass. “How was school?”

“I didn’t fall asleep, so there’s that,” you said with a yawn and felt Carlos’ hand close around yours as you closed your eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Carlos lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before resting them on his lap. “Lando said you made a new friend.”

You smiled and opened your eyes to see Carlos glancing across the car as he sped along the highway home. “You two are the worst gossips. Oscar’s nice. I think they will get along well as teammates.”

“Better than me?”

“No one could beat you and Lando as teammates, baby, that was pure magic.” You rubbed soothingly along his thigh to reassure him. “I don’t know if he will get more vocal as he gets comfortable but I get the feeling Oscar is just a quiet person. He’s very different from Lando, and you and Daniel, which could be a good thing.”

Carlos chuckled to himself. “It sounds like you have spent a lot of time thinking about him.”

“There may have been moments,” you admitted. “But there was someone I thought about a lot more.”

A wicked grin grew and Carlos’s hand drew yours higher up his leg as he turned onto the narrow lane that led to the private property Lando had bought. Set halfway between the McLaren factory and your university, it was the idyllic spot to live and Carlos could fly in from the Ferrari HQ in Maranello whenever he had free time, or, when Lando didn’t want to leave you on your own. 

“And who exactly did you think about?” Carlos asked as the front gates opened. “Was he handsome?”

“Very, very handsome, with dark hair and a sexy accent. And he’s so fucking fit, I could break my teeth on his abs,” you hummed happily as the car pulled into one of the few spaces left in the large garage. “I could go on and on about him. Charles is just-”

“Cha-“ Carlos’ foot fell heavy on the brake and the car jutted to a sharp stop. “Charles!”

Your giggle filled the empty car as Carlos ran around the front and opened your door. The world tipped over as he grabbed you out of the seat and tossed you over his shoulder, swatting your ass as he marched you into the house. 

“I’m sorry, I was joking,” you spluttered between laughing and gasping as he spanked you again. “I was thinking about you, doing something surprisingly similar to this actually, just less clothes.”

The world spun again as he tossed you on the bed and caged you beneath his body, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “You hurt my feelings, mi amor.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist and combed a hand through his thick dark hair that had grown in the week he had been gone. “Then let me make it better.”  

It started with a text, asking if you had any recommendations for the local takeaways. It was Oscar’s cheat day and you were feeling like you could use a little pick me up of greasy food so you offered to show him your favourite spot. Carlos had been called away a day earlier than planned so you had the whole house to yourself and its grand size always seemed scary on your own. 

The buzzer from the gates sounded and you hit the remote button to open it after, swearing as you realised you lost track of time. Open textbooks covered the kitchen table and highlighters were strewn amongst them as you tried to colour code the notes you had made on post-its. It was a mess, but it was too late to clean up as Oscar knocked on the front door.

“I promise I didn’t forget you were coming, I just thought I had time to finish my homework first,” you said as you opened the door and waved him in. You looked down at the grey sweatpants that came from Carlos’ drawer and the hoodie that came from Lando’s, not quite what you had planned to wear into town. “Obviously, I thought wrong. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just get changed real quick.”

“You don’t have to get dressed up,” he said as he took his shoes off and closed the door behind him. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You smiled at the sincerity and gave him a quick hug, inhaling the musky cologne that clung to his shirt. “You’re sweet, Osc, but you’re a rookie and it shows.”

He frowned as you pulled away and started to head to the stairs for the second floor where the bedrooms were. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You paused at the bottom step and looked over your shoulder. “You’ll see in an hour.”

The chicken shop had been almost empty when you entered before the dinner rush but there was a crowd growing outside. You were used to having cameras pointed your way after publicly dating Lando for over two years, but Oscar had only shot to fame in the last month when his infamous tweet aired on Drive to Survive. He hadn’t been known outside of the smaller F2 circle but now he was a household name. 

“I see what you mean,” he said as he did his best to ignore the people knocking on the glass. 

“You get used to it, eventually.” You popped a hot chip in your mouth and chewed it while you watched him, a small frown tugging his brows together. “The trick is deciding early on what your position is.”

“What position?”

“With the fans, the paparazzi, all of it.” You glanced at the window and waved. “When we started dating, Lando tried to protect me from them and hide our relationship but they were like sharks after blood. We found we had more privacy if we acknowledged them, then they just moved on.”

You didn’t try hiding with Carlos so no one ever dug too deep into it. Everyone just assumed you were close friends given how close Lando and him were too. It was easier for everyone to believe you were just friends.

Oscar turned to the glass window and forced a smile before waving to the children. Cameras flashed as the fans got the face shots they wanted and then they dispersed back about their day, with the exception of a few stragglers. “Huh. Are you sure you’re not in PR?”

“I’m sure,” you said with a smirk. You weren’t joking when you said you were a PR nightmare - if the world found out about the unorthodox relationship between you, Lando and Carlos it would be. “I have just been through it all before so I can be your personal guide.”

“Thank you.”

You pushed the leftover plate of fries his way knowing he was probably like every other driver who had the ability to consume three times their weight in carbs on a cheat day. “You can thank me with another dinner date, it beats going cross-eyed studying.”

“I’m not sure your boyfriend would appreciate that,” he said as he dragged the plate of fries closer and finished the last of them.

“Lando appreciated what makes me happy, and he’s secure enough to trust what we have isn’t going anywhere.” 

The idea was foreign to him and you could see the doubt he had about it, but he settled instead for a polite, “That must be nice.”

“Your PR team is going to love you,” you chuckled as you grabbed your wallet to pay. “A driver who actually keeps his thoughts to himself, that’s a rarity.”

Oscar’s long legs quickly overtook you and he had some cash out ready. “I invited you,” he said with a stern look that caught you by surprise. “I’m paying.”

Raising your hands in defeat, you smirked and slipped your wallet back into your handbag. “Yes, sir.”

You watched his eyes linger on your lips before he shook his head of the wayward thought and led the way out of the store. “So what do you usually do when Lando is in Monaco?”

“Carlos usually comes and keeps me company, or I just study. Not exactly the epitome of excitement but it’s my last year and then I’ll go to Monaco too.”

Oscar quietly accepted the knowledge without questioning it, though you could see them swirling in his eyes. He wanted to know about Carlos but he was too polite to ask, or maybe he knew it wasn’t something you could answer. “Well, you have my number so if you get sick of studying you can always call me.”

"You can call me too, Osc.”

Term break arrived with as much turbulence as the plane you took to Austria. On one hand you were excited to be able to travel to a few races but on the other you nervously awaited two assessment results and continuously checked your phone for updates until Carlos locked it in the hotel safe. “You can get it back when you promise to relax.” 

“I won’t relax until I know what I got,” you argued but between him and Lando they distracted you well enough, for a while at least.

“We need to get going,” Lando reluctantly said as he climbed out of bed and tried to restore some control over his mussed hair. “You can have your phone back, but just so we can contact you, not so that you can worry about your damn exams.”

Carlos laughed as he unlocked the safe that also had your passports and valuables stored. “I’m sure she will listen to you,” he said as he handed the phone over and saw the unread text messages from Oscar light up the screen. “Though maybe she won’t have time to check her emails now.”

The two managed to shower in a matter of seconds before they reappeared and sorted through the pile of clothes on the floor, tossing red one way and papaya the other. 

“Is Oscar on his way?” Lando asked when he was dressed and ready to go to the track. 

“He’s already there,” you replied, barely looking up from the messages that were coming in rapidfire succession except to kiss Lando goodbye. “And he said you’re going to be late again if you don’t hurry up.”

“I was on time yesterday,” Lando grumbled, pulling his shoes on as he hopped to the door. “I just looked late because I was the last to arrive.”

“Better than coming too soon,” Carlos joked as he leant down to give you a kiss too. “See you later, mi amor.”

You arrived at the track just before the driver’s parade began, when everyone was too busy making their way to the grandstands so the paddock was much easier to navigate. The results had been posted and a smile had been plastered on your face since seeing the grade, but you wanted to tell Lando and Carlos in person. 

“Hey, you’re actually here.” The aussie twang greeted your ears before you turned and found Oscar opening his door opposite Lando’s. “I was starting to believe you were a figment of my imagination.”

Oscar opened his arms and you stepped into the hug you were pretty sure you had trained him into expecting every time you met. He was already in his fireproof skins and they hugged every inch of his torso so you could feel the muscle that lay beneath. 

“I got in last night,” you said as you brushed a hand through his soft hair and giggled when it flopped back over his forehead. “How has your week been?”

“I’m pretty sure you know almost everything that’s happened.” Referring to the hundreds of texts that were religiously exchanged. 

“It’s not the same without seeing your face, I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”

He tucked your head back into his collar and held you a little tighter. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You would if you thought it was protecting me.”

He didn’t have a response for that, at least not before Lando’s door opened and he leaned against the panel with an amused look on his face. 

“Are we celebrating or commiserating, love?”

You had completely forgotten why you had come to the building and a bright smile lit up your face as you bounced on the balls of your feet. “A+, baby.”

“Knew you could do it!” Lando wrapped his arms around you and, incidentally, Oscar too. “Fuck the diet, we are going out tonight.”

You looked up at Oscar. “You’ll come too right?”

“Of course he’s coming,” Lando answered with a wink. “Gotta thank the guy that looks after my girl when I’m away. She would never get her nose out of a book if you didn’t take her out.”

You had quickly learned that it didn’t take much to make Oscar blush and Lando loved to make it happen. 

“It’s no problem,” Oscar murmured as he scratched his heated neck. 

Oscar understood more than anyone why there were always rumours about Carlos. Every time pictures were snapped of you and the Spaniard, or all three of you, the gossip began anew. After spending quite a bit of time with you over the last six months he had his own fair share of rumours but he knew nothing had happened with you. It was hard not to gravitate closer to you or to hug you at any given chance - there was a magnetism he couldn’t explain and he didn’t want to fight it. 

“You saved me from total starvation on numerous occasions,” you praised, rising on your toes to kiss his pink cheek. “My hero.”

Oscar’s face grew another shade deeper and he tried to change his racing thoughts to something other than the feel of your lips. It was impossible, he was too far gone and was helpless to his own feelings that wanted more than you could offer. He couldn’t even look at Lando after the betrayal he had just imagined doing. That was his teammate and you were his boyfriend.

“I’m going to head to the garage,” he choked as he took a step back and grabbed his balaclava from his room. He could feel your eyes in him as he left and when he reached the end of the corridor he turned with a frown as he realised he had missed something. “Congratulations on the grade, you deserve it after the effort you put in.”

Those eyes he had come to love in the last six months softened and you smiled. “Thank you, Osc. Good luck out there.”

It started with a kiss. While Lando and Carlos were celebrating the points they had earned, you were keeping Oscar’s glass full as he stewed in his mind over what he could have done better. You could almost see the calculations running through his head as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and it was like he couldn’t even hear the music in the nightclub. 

“If you don’t drink that I will, and you don’t want to see what happens to me when I have whisky,” you warned him. 

He looked at the glass and sighed, putting it down. “I think I should just call it a night. You should go have fun with them.” You followed his sight to Carlos and Lando jumping with the crowd, Lando’s mouth moving with the words and Carlos’ arm draped over his shoulder.

“They can keep each other company, I want to be here with you.” You took his glass and lifted it to your lips. “Last warning…” The liquor burned down your throat and you rushed to take a gulp of your fruity cocktail to wash away the taste before a shiver rolled down your spine. “Oh god, how can you drink that?”

You poured another glass from the bottle on the table and held it out until he took it with a small laugh. “It’s meant to be sipped, not shot,” he clarified before drinking a small amount.

The whisky hit your stomach and you felt warmth spread across your skin. The bar menu suddenly became a necessity and you fanned your face with the cardboard as the flush reached your hairline. “We should dance.”

“I, I’m not a good dancer,” he said, looking concerned at the idea.

“No one is good at dancing,” you pointed out, the crowd basically just jumping to the beat or moving side to side. “Just follow my lead.”

He accepted your hand and you grinned triumphantly as you towed him to the dancefloor before turning and stepping closer to his body. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you swayed your hips to the beat before realising he really did need to be led because his hands were still limp at his sides. 

“You can touch me,” you teased as you grabbed his hands and put them on your hips. “Just relax and feel the rhythm.”

Oscar’s fingers flexed when he felt you start moving again, your body brushing against his, and he released a shuddering breath when you turned in his arms and tipped your head back on his shoulder to look up at him. 

“You okay?” you asked as you watched his blue eyes darken in the laser lights.

“You’re beautiful.”

You turned to face him with one of those smiles of pure joy that always made his day better and he forgot about his poor race result. He could hardly breathe when your hands roamed his body, climbing the thick column of his neck to rest on his racing pulse. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out when you rose on your tiptoes, eyes closed and lips pursed to give him one of those sweet kisses on his cheek.

Someone knocked into him and he turned to growl a warning but then your lips were there, pressed to his lips and he lost the words. Time slowed to the space between one heartbeat and the next as he savoured the sweet taste of your drink, unable to stop himself from taking a little more. 

You had kissed his cheek enough times to memorise the feel of them and knew it was not what you were kissing. A soft gasp slipped past when his tongue parted your lips and your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as your body yearned for more.

“Uh-oh, someone’s had a bit of frisky whisky,” Lando purred in your ear.

Oscar startled back and wiped his lips that were the same shade as your lipstick. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was an accident. Someone pushed me,” he stammered as he looked around but had no idea who had barged into him when there were hundreds of people in the club.

“Relax, mate,” Lando said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. You cozied into Lando’s arm and tried to process what had happened while your lips tingled from the kiss and your heart fluttered. “It’s the whisky.”

You wanted to tell him the whisky hadn’t kicked in yet but kept quiet as Oscar exhaled in relief. Hiding your face in the crook of Lando’s neck, you screwed your eyes shut and pushed away the image that told you he had regretted the kiss. The knowledge settled in your gut that twisted and turned and you gripped Lando’s shirt harder at the rejection. 

“Can we go?” you begged quietly. “Please?” 

Lando kissed your forehead and nodded. “Okay, love, let me just tell Carlos.”

Your hands were left empty as Lando darted back into the melee to find Carlos who would probably stay until the club shut down. For the first time since meeting him you felt awkward in Oscar’s presence knowing you had made him uncomfortable. You didn’t know what to say and it was clear he didn’t either as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed as you took a step away, hoping the crowd would swallow you whole.

When you woke the next morning for a moment you could pretend it was some strange dream, or nightmare, until Lando blinked his sleep eyes open and pulled you into his arms. “Good morning, beautiful.” The timbre of his voice when he was just waking could always bring a smile to your face but your lips merely wobbled and he sat up concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up, with Oscar.”

“Baby, it was just a kiss and you were both drunk, I’m sure he’s probably already forgotten about it.”

The thought that he could forget something that to you was so profound only compounded the ache in your chest. You didn’t want him to forget, you didn’t want him to regret, and you voiced as much to Lando as you cried in his arms.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmured softly as he wiped away your tears. “I think this is a conversation we should have with Carlos.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you grumbled, tearing yourself from his embrace. “It wouldn’t work out anyway.”

Lando got up and followed you to the bathroom as you turned the shower onto the hottest setting. “Why wouldn’t it work?”

“You and Carlos are best friends, and while you are always close to your teammates I know he doesn’t have the same interest in Oscar.” You stepped under the cascade and welcomed the burning heat that rained down. “I don’t want to lose what we have by wanting more.”

You didn’t hear Lando leave as the steam fogged up the glass and you let your head fall against the cold tile wall. He left you to your thoughts and gave you the space needed to reconcile your feelings to the past.

It started with a phone call. The urge had woken you from a deep sleep and you couldn’t shake the need to reach for your phone and dial the number you knew by heart. It had been a good weekend for the McLaren team with double podiums both in the Sprint and Grand Prix. The two third place caps were hung on the post of the bed as testament to the productive weekend but Lando had gone to bed deflated. 

Oscar had won his maiden race before him. A rookie had done what he had waited years for, what he still waited for. 

“Hello?”

You had assumed the call would go to voicemail after ringing for so long so you weren’t prepared to hear Oscar’s sleepy voice in your ear.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, is everything alright?”

You swallowed and shook your head before remembering he couldn’t see. “I just wanted to say congratulations, I thought you would still be out celebrating.”

“There’s no one to go celebrating with,” he said so quietly you wondered if it was even meant to be said out loud. 

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure what for exactly but you felt the need to say it anyway. It was about the only thing you had said to him in weeks. “I should let you get back to sleep.”

“It’s, uh, it’s good to hear your voice,” he admitted and you a little bit of the weight on your shoulders eased as you realised whatever you had wasn’t completely ruined.

“You too, Osc. Good night.”

“Night.”

It was naive to think that one phone call could repair the divide that had chasmed between you because when you returned home for your last semester you still felt his absence everywhere. There were no daily text messages, or invitations to dinner, no sudden appearances as you left class. He was a memory that haunted you and it was always worse when both Lando and Carlos were away.

Four Months Later

It started with a bouquet. The small card was almost lost in the overflowing explosion of blossoms that left a sweet scent in the air but when you flipped it over your heart skipped a beat. Congratulations, OP x 

You were still smiling just as brightly an hour later when you arrived at the graduation ceremony to receive your Honours degree. You had kept the bouquet with you and inhaled the fresh scent as you waited for your name to be called. A loud cheer erupted from the rows where Lando, Carlos, your friends and family sat but it was the lonely cheer at the back of the hall that caught your attention. 

Unfortunately it may have been a hopeful hallucination as you didn’t see him again after that or at the celebration Lando threw for you at home.

“Pack your bags, baby, it’s time for Monaco!” Lando engulfed you in a hug and spun you around so your ceremonial robes billowed out and you clutched your cap to keep it from flying off. “I’m so selfish, I can’t wait to wake up to you every fucking day.”

Another set of arms tugged you away and you fell into Carlos’ embrace. “I’m so proud of you, hermosa.”

You were practically a marionette the way you were passed from one person to the next until finally the bottles of champagne ran dry and the party came to an end. You collapsed onto your bed with a giddy laugh that the long journey was finally over and you toed your heels off, letting them fall to the floor. 

“You can’t sleep in your dress, amor,” Carlos chuckled as he walked into the room with Lando after locking the house up. 

“Then you will have to undress me,” you teased with a beckoning finger that faltered when you saw Lando had the bouquet in a vase that he had found downstairs and he placed it on the bedside drawers beside your phone. “I saw him.”

“I know,” Lando said as he straightened the card among the roses. “I invited him.”

“Thank you.”

The next bouquet was one that you sent to him on his birthday. He barely kept the flowers alive for a week but he did keep the card that was attached. The two little xx’s you signed off with were almost faded from how often he traced his thumb over them before slipping it back into his wallet. He was no longer a rookie but he found this season harder to bear without your companionship and he wished he could somehow fix what he broke.

The problem was that he couldn’t settle for just your friendship anymore so he had to keep his distance instead. He had tasted your lips and nothing less could sate the addiction that had festered in the absence of another hit.

Miami was torturous for Oscar. The car was running great and his qualifying was great, but after five rounds of racing he was still stunned every time he watched you enter the paddock. At least in China the weather was horrible so you were bundled up in Lando’s hoodie but Miami, Miami was hot. Monaco had been influential in your fashion and the dress you wore was worthy of the runways in Paris. 

Stacks of passes hung around your neck and fell into your cleavage as you entered the grid and joined Lando where he was talking to Carlos. Oscar watched with envy as you hugged them both and kissed their cheek with well wishes for the race while he failed to hear what his race engineer was explaining. He was distracted by the fact you had seen him, and smiled. It was small and shy, but it was a smile nonetheless and one of his own growing as you waved your fingers and disappeared back into the garage.

One hundred and ten races he kept you waiting, but finally Lando won his maiden race and there was nothing that could bring him down. He had not stopped smiling, or dancing, or talking since winning and he wasn’t even sure if any of it made sense. The hours were a whirlwind of alcohol and noise until it all turned black and Carlos had to help you get him into bed.

Lando was fast asleep with his mouth open and snoring, which heavily down to the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed at the after party. He didn’t even stir as you slipped out of the bed and left the room to answer the call that lit up your phone. 

“Hey.” You kept your voice low even though you knew nothing short of a fire alarm would wake your boyfriend.

“Hey.” You could hear the smile in that word and your own lips curled up in response. “I’m sorry if I woke you, I just needed to hear your voice.”

You navigated your way through the dark hotel suite to the balcony and opened the door just wide enough to fit through before closing it. The humidity was instant and the satin nightgown clung to your warm skin as you hung up the phone. “You didn’t wake me.”

Oscar was so close you could almost touch him, but the balcony one room over was just too far away. He even looked down the gap to see the fifteen storey high plunge and you could see his brows burrow together like he was calculating his chances of making the leap across. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him. “I didn’t come out here to see you fall to your death.”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing and he sighed in defeat. A smirk soon tugged at his lips and he brushed his hair back over his ear as he eyed the sheer slip you wore. “But you did come out here to see me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, aware of how thin the material was and all it bared. “I wanted to check how you were.”

Oscar’s lips pursed at the reminder of his poor race result. 

“Could have done without your boyfriend’s boyfriend crashing into me.”

He didn’t know how close to the truth he was with that statement and you wondered if he knew about the relationship that Lando and Carlos had or if he was just playing on an old fan rumour. You wondered how shocked he would be if he knew that Carlos was passed out on the other side of Lando right now. 

“It is a part of racing,” you reminded him. “There’s always a risk battling it out.”

Oscar dropped his head with a little laugh. “It’s a good thing I didn’t call you for sympathy or I would be disappointed.”

“Why did you call me?” 

You knew why.

“I told you, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Osc,” you sighed, your hands falling to your side, and he lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes so similar to his teammates.

“I’m not an idiot,” he said as he let go of the rail he leaned on and rose to his full height. “I know you love him.”

“I do,” you confirmed with a small nod, unable to look in his direction as you turned your focus to the view of the ocean instead. 

You didn’t hear him move until his feet landed quietly on the concrete behind you and you spun around to face him. A small shocked gasp escaped your lips when his palm glided over the satin at your waist and pulled you closer to his body. Your hands found their own space on his chest and he froze as he waited for you to push him away, but your fingers curled into the white shirt he wore.

“I know you love him,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But I think you might love me too.”

“You have ignored me for months.” It wasn’t a denial and he caught the admission of those missing words.

“I can never ignore you, and now I know I can’t even keep my distance from you.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours as his large hands cradled your face. “I need you, Y/N.”

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” you whispered as you fought the urge to tell him just how much you needed him too. 

“I’m asking for a chance to show you how perfect we are for each other.” He pulled back to see tears shimmering in your eyes and he sighed. “I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

“Wait-”

“No, you don‘t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I don't want you to cheat on Lando.” He kept backing away but you followed with each step until his back was pressed to the railing. 

“Lando isn’t the problem,” you promised as you reached for his face and cradled his sharp jawline. “Remember when I said I was a PR nightmare?”

Oscar nodded as his brows furrowed together. 

“I’m trusting you with a secret no one else knows.” His confusion grew as you took his hand and led him inside the suite. You pressed a finger to your lips as you reached the bedroom door and nudged it wider so he could see what was inside. In the dim light it was hard to make out what he was looking at but then everything came into focus like the Ferrari shirt on the floor and the CS55 cap on the nightstand. 

Oscar’s jaw slackened as he recognised the two bodies spread across the sheets and he eyed the empty space that you had filled. A thousand questions muddled in his head and he swallowed them down until you had closed the door again. His hand slipped out of yours as you walked back to the balcony and you wondered if that was the last time you would ever hold it.

“No one can know, please,” you whispered as you hugged yourself and stared at the moonlight on the waves. 

“Help me to understand what I just saw. Are the rumours true then?”

You laughed and turned to face him, crossing your legs and you leant against the rail. “They're not wrong,” you admitted with an evasive shrug. “They love each other and have a relationship, but it’s not the same relationship that I have with them.”

“You’re not exactly helping me to understand this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he sat heavily on the outdoor settee. 

You had never needed to explain it before, the addition of Carlos to yours and Lando’s relationship had naturally fallen into place and been accepted without having to understand why you all felt the way you did or how it was going to work. But now you were going to try.

“I met Lando first and what we had was instant, he was funny and sweet and kind. Then he introduced me to Carlos who was so charismatic it was impossible not to love him too. It didn’t mean I loved Lando any less so he supported me having a relationship with Carlos too.” 

“Okay.” He nodded like it made some sense and it gave you a slither of hope. “But what about them?”

You watched Oscar’s eyes linger on the skin bared by the satin and they darkened when you uncrossed your legs to step closer. He sat up straighter as you approached and his legs opened for you to step between and he did nothing to stop you when you took a seat on his lap. 

“You want to know if it's a package deal?” you teased, toying with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. “You want to know if you can have me, but at what price?”

His throat bounced with a deep swallow and his tongue wet his dry lips before he could speak again. “Is it?”

You thought about teasing him more but you settled for the truth. “No, like I said, they don’t have that sort of relationship. Yes, we may sleep in the same bed more often than not and on occasion they share me, but that is as far as they go. That is where the rumours are wrong.”

“Share you as in…”

“Threesome, Oscar,” you confirmed with a laugh as his cheeks turned pink. Seeing that colour again reminded you of the kiss and you shifted on his lap to straddle his hips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It feels like a part of me has been missing for months.”

His hands slid up your back and pulled you closer. “I know what you mean.” 

His lips were so close you could feel their warmth and they begged you to close the distance, but you couldn’t just yet. “I want you, Osc, and you’re right, I do love you.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes as he asked, “But?”

“But I don’t know how this works when you and Carlos are battling each other every week.”

“I know things sound heated on the radio but that is just on the track,” he promised, his thumbs drawing soothing circles over your spine. “I have no problem with Carlos, I swear.”

Carlos had said the same thing but you weren’t sure if they were just trying to placate you. Only time would tell.

“It’s not just my heart that will break if this doesn’t work,” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut and you surrendered yourself to him.

“Then we will just have to make this work.”

[writeriguess]

Having a super hard time right now so could you do a single dad kirishma or bakugo or shinsou and they’re struggling trying to juggle parenthood and being a pro then they meet y/n she’s new to their agency and she just so happens to catch their eye, just a simple receptionist but she has so many ideas. They’re so busy that they don’t even get the chance to actually meet her until one day she comes up to their office with an idea for a daycare in the agency since she’s getting so many call outs about people who don’t have child care. She offers to run/teach the daycare as well since she was a teacher back in the states before she moved and it turns out this is the key to their own problems and they slowly fall in love with her.

author's note: Hey, I just wanted to clarify something. I’ve noticed that “comfort fics” sometimes get published quickly after being requested, which might give the impression that I prioritize them. However, that’s not the case—every fic is written and published in the order it was requested.

If you requested this piece, you might have noticed that I didn’t publish it immediately after seeing it. Please know that I don’t rush requests out of order. The only time I made an exception was for an emergency request, but I now realize that was a mistake, as some people overlooked my author’s note explaining it was a one-time thing. I’m sorry for any confusion, and I appreciate your patience!

Safe in Your Hands

The constant buzzing of his phone was a persistent, grating reminder that life didn’t slow down for anyone. Not even for Katsuki Bakugo.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples as he read yet another text from the daycare. His son, Ryo, had caught a cold and needed to be picked up early—again. He wasn’t mad at the kid, never at him, but the frustration of trying to juggle being a top pro hero and a single father was wearing him thin.

His office was a mess of paperwork, mission reports, and unfinished emails. He was barely keeping his head above water, and his agency, while thriving, was in dire need of some structure. Or a miracle.

That’s when a soft knock at his door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Come in,” he grumbled, expecting another stack of files or another meeting he didn’t have time for.

Instead, you stepped in.

“Good afternoon, Dynamight-san.”

He barely looked up at first, recognizing you as the new receptionist. You’d been here a couple of months, always polite, always handling things smoothly. He’d noticed, even if he never had the time to actually speak to you. You were a quiet force in the chaos, managing things from behind the front desk with a calm confidence.

“I, uh, hope I’m not interrupting,” you said, shifting slightly but holding your ground. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you.”

His gaze flickered up then, curiosity outweighing his exhaustion. “What kinda idea?”

You stepped forward, placing a neatly written proposal on his desk. “I’ve been getting a lot of call-outs from employees who are struggling with childcare. And I’ve noticed you’ve had to step out unexpectedly for similar reasons. I was a teacher back in the States before moving here, and I was thinking… what if we had an in-agency daycare?”

He blinked, stunned into silence for the first time in what felt like months.

“I’d be willing to help set it up, even run it,” you continued, your voice steady. “It’d give the staff some peace of mind, knowing their kids are safe while they work. And it might make things easier for you, too.”

He stared at you for a long moment, your words sinking in. No one had ever suggested something like this before. No one had ever looked at the chaos of his life and offered a solution so simple yet perfect.

“Tch,” he finally scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re serious about this?”

You nodded. “Completely.”

And just like that, something in his chest loosened.

Maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Once Bakugo approved the daycare idea, you got straight to work. There were meetings to hold, rooms to convert, supplies to order, and staff to hire. Despite the long hours, you found yourself energized by the project. The employees were thrilled with the idea, and as word spread through the agency, more and more heroes began stopping by to offer assistance.

Bakugo was still a little wary, though. He wasn’t the type to trust easily, but he couldn’t deny that things were starting to feel a little less overwhelming.

One evening, as you were reviewing the final details before the daycare’s official opening, Bakugo showed up at the converted space. You looked up from your clipboard, surprised to see him standing in the doorway with Ryo in his arms. The little boy, looking sleepy and snuggled into his father’s shoulder, blinked at you drowsily.

“Figured we should do a test run,” Bakugo muttered, stepping inside. “See how the brat likes it.”

You smiled warmly. “Of course. Come on in.”

Setting Ryo down gently, Bakugo watched as the toddler hesitantly explored the room. His tiny hands ran over the soft mats, and he eyed the shelves of toys with curiosity. Slowly, he toddled toward a plush All Might figure, giving it an experimental squeeze.

You crouched down next to him. “You like that one, Ryo?”

The boy looked up at you, then at his father, before nodding shyly.

Bakugo exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Looks like it’s a hit.”

You grinned. “I think so.”

For the first time since you’d met him, you saw the tension in Bakugo’s shoulders ease slightly. Maybe this really was the answer to the problem he hadn’t been able to solve alone.

As the weeks went by, the daycare became an integral part of the agency. Parents were relieved, the kids were happy, and Bakugo—though he’d never say it outright—was grateful beyond words.

You and Bakugo started seeing more of each other, too. At first, it was just in passing—quick meetings to discuss logistics, brief encounters when he dropped Ryo off. But then, it turned into coffee breaks, conversations that stretched a little longer each day, small moments of laughter that neither of you had expected.

One evening, after a particularly long shift, Bakugo stopped by your office. You looked up, surprised to see him lingering in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said gruffly.

“Hey,” you replied, setting your pen down. “Everything okay?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah. Just… wanted to say thanks. For everything.”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. “You don’t have to thank me, Bakugo. I’m happy to help.”

His gaze softened, just a little. “Still. You’ve made shit easier for me. And for Ryo.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad. He’s a great kid.”

A rare smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah, he is.”

Silence settled between you, comfortable and warm. And in that moment, you both knew—this was just the beginning.

As months passed, your presence in Bakugo’s life became more than just professional. He found himself looking forward to seeing you every day, whether it was during a hectic morning drop-off or a quiet evening chat after work. Ryo adored you, always running to you with excitement when he saw you at the daycare.

One night, after a late shift, you were locking up when Bakugo showed up with Ryo asleep in his arms. He was exhausted, but there was something softer in his expression than usual.

“Wanna grab a late dinner?” he asked, almost shyly.

You blinked in surprise before smiling. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, everything changed. The weight on Bakugo’s shoulders didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because for the first time in years, he wasn’t carrying it alone.

[maissafespace]

The More, The Merrier.

Reo Mikage x Fem!Reader x Nagi Seishiro.

Request: so sorry but i forgot to add!! could u include double penetration w the reonagi 3some? thank u !!

Warnings: relationship; best friends, childhood friends. explicit sexual content; threesome, foreplay, dry humping, virgin!reader, virgin!reo, virgin!nagi, oral male receiving and female receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, double penetration, anal, overstimulation, degradation kink, praising kink, mean!reo, soft!nagi, double creampies, multiple orgasms, aftercare.

A/n: ngl this was really hot to write. lol. this request was from october of freaking last year lol i'm sorry but i hope i did some justice if you're even still following. send a coffee!

Masterpost - Masterlist.

You didn't know exactly how you were still friends with Reo, the guy changed and discarted friends like nothing, so to be by his side after a lifetime was surprising to everyone.

So surprising that some people thought you two were in a relationship for some time now.

You weren't, to clear the record.

But there was never a denial on whether you found him attractive enough to sleep with him, the opportunity was simply never given and you were for sure never going to ask just to calm your curiosity on his abilities in bed. It would have been slightly desperate on your part. Even if you dreamt about it in your early teens.

Then, he befriended Nagi, you did too as he brought him around. Another one that you couldn’t help but find attractive, honestly, only blind people wouldn’t. His height was enough to get you riled up, along with the general different in size between the two of you. He was a stud.

Growing and maturing, they both just got better, but it got worse for you as the two untouchable people in your life continued to appear in your horniest of dreams.

Nonetheless, you found yourself cheering for the two of them during every match, you could be in, congratulating them both if they won, consoling them, cooking if they lost, spending your breaks from uni the three of you together, making trips during the holidays...

You three were inseparable, the three best friends.

The three that many believed were fucking between each other.

Reaching Reo’s family house like every other Saturday afternoon with the difference of it not being his apartment, you met his father at the door, he smiled at you warmly, informing you that Nagi was here too with Reo playing videogames, while hewas going to go to an emergency meeting right then. He patted your head as he left the house.

There was a tingling in your stomach for some reason as you made your way up, brushing that to the side you finally entered the room finding Nagi sat with his back to the bed on the ground, while Reo was crossed leg on the bed a bit hunched over.

Your body and his mattress were one and only in a second, laying down beside him, your head close to Nagi's head and Reo's leg.

You felt the slight tension in the room, the awkward air that was hanging heavy at your appearence.

"Hi, are we going to stay like this for long?" You asked as minutes passed where they stood still as statues with their fingers being their only indication of life.

Their eyes met one another briefly, your eyebrow started to arch in confusion. The game became silent seconds later, Nagi was scratching the back of his head as Reo put things back into place all without saying a word and never looking at you.

"What is wrong with you two today?" You asked calmly and honestly a bit scared, were they going to dump you? Or well, stop your friendship?

Reo cleared his throat loudly, leaning against his desk directly in front of you, arms crossed and body stiff trying to relax for whatever he was going to say next. "Well... we were kind of, we talked about something before that left us wondering a bit, you just came in at the… wrong time, I guess."

"Good, what is that?" They kept looking at each other as if choosing who'd say it, patience was running thin now. "Guys."

"Having a threesome." Nagi said as unbothered as ever. Your eyes widened but other than that you kept your compsure, without noticing arching your back. Looking back and forth once again between the two.

"You guys... had a threesome?" You asked baffled. For some reason you felt a bit hurt at the admission. Despite being 18, you were up till then still virgin-

"No! No! We- we just talked about it, like a possibility in the future to experience and then you walked in and things got awkward, since you know- ugh." Reo explained quickly with a hand rubbing his face out of the slight embarrassment he was currently feeling. You felt relief, at least some groupie had not taken them,.. from you.

It felt wrong to think of them as yours but for years they were just that, yours. The only girl they let close to them, the only girl they hugged and complimented.

A chill ran down your whole body, a feeling you knew too well was pooling in your core, you realized that two of the most attractive guys you knew, were standing right there, with a open possibility of having them at the same time without it being awkward in your small friend group.

You stood up, thinking over your next actions carefully as they just looked you pacing around the room and just like you feeling a certain heat in them. Looking at one another, Reo with a tiny smirk.

With your silence he was getting angrier though rather than frustrated, the previous embarrassment completely left in favor of supressing the need to bonk you on the head and stop walking around.

"You're making me dizzy." Nagi said out loud, basically reading his mind. Stopping you in your spot.

"Would you though?" You directly looked at them, more at Reo. He shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving you while Nagi gave more of a lazy nod.

Your mind went blank for a second, and when you felt conscious of your own moves, your eyes were half lidded looking directly into Reo's, while the smacking of your lips echoed in the room as they moved so hungrily against the other.

Nagi's figure was behind you, his lips attached to your neck with his hands under your shirt. Your chest pressed against Reo's, your hands on his abs while your ass pressed strongly against Nagi's crotch.

Reo's fingers played with the button of your pants, watching your face flush pink and red in the sloppy kiss, a corner of his lips went up. You seemed so fucked out already and that had him amused, it was arousing to see the composed little girl a puddle in his arms, with his best friend's hands groping all around you.

This was the time he could finally act on his attraction, as much as Nagi could and even you could, without making it worse for all, for this moment at least.

His hand hid behind the zipper of your pants, fingers finding the slick in your freshly shaved skin and he wondered with a grin how many times you walked in so prepared for this moment. Oh fuck, that thought was getting him harder.

Your thighs clenched together at his finger messing with your sensitive clit already. You knew you were mess, but that would make it far more interesting. Your reaction to his fingering had a clear effect on Nagi as well as your rear pushed towards his crotch even more, the bulge a complete hard on, his groans against your skin told it all.

Reo used his free hand to pull away from your kiss, lips swollen and red, soft gasps as you caught your breath but he guided you towards Nagi, your lips connected with his, his hands squeezing your breasts even more, he watched in satisfaction how needy you were as your hand struggle with his pants, trembling and getting frustrated over them.

Your tongue danced with Nagi’s, your body responding to the difference in size as he hunched over to properly kiss you. His hands were burning on your skin, they were far bigger than anything on your body, almost feeling inadequate. You probably were nothing compared to the girls that threw themselves at them, but you couldn’t let yourself down now. If this was your only chance, you had to properly use it.

“Nagi, Reo…” you moaned their names as Nagi’s started to kiss your neck again. “Fuck.”

Nagi slipped your top off in that moment, letting you gasp at the cold air and the sudden wet feeling of Reo’s mouth on your chest. Your face flushed seeing him taking your nipples in his mouth, your hand going around his neck gently, squeezing him whenever either of them gave you stimulation.

Nagi’s long fingers did their job as the palm of his hand pressed against your clit while the tip of two fingers went in and out of your tight hole.

All of your inexperience surfaced at how hungrily you were all dry humping on each other to feel more. Your hips were rubbing against Nagi’s roughly, you could even feel the heat of your clothes at the continuous friction while your hand remained on Reo’s buckling hips. “Shit.” He said over and over. Grabbing your wrist roughly edging himself and just bringing you to his bed, throwing you over it, landing on your stomach, with your hips wiggling on their own.

“Fuck…” you moaned, gasping for air.

You felt the bed dip near your head, looking at Nagi he leaned down to claim your lips as Reo started to take off your pants and panties. Leaving you completely bare, exposed to these hungry men.

The white haired boy led your hand to his crotch, starting to palm it through his pants and slowly taking him out. His cock was bright pink at the tip, oozing a bit of precum, only the sight made your insides melt and you knew they knew, after all Reo who was then fingering you, made the sound of your wet pussy echo in the room. The squelch would have felt embarrassing if it wasn’t for how taken you were with the pretty cock in front of you and your flushed best friend eagerly waiting for you to take him in your mouth.

You moaned at the gentle hand on your face as he guided your hand down the length of his cock. Flinching when you felt the tip of Reo’s tongue starting to explore your cunt. Your legs had closed off or tried as he kept them apart forcefully, with your hand on his hand, gripping on it. “Stop moving around, Y/N. I need to have a taste.” You gave up, listening his voice, raspy, intimidating and a hidden hint of desperation.

They did not stop themselves, you couldn’t even see how Reo was stroking himself at the heightened and intensified pleasure you were receiving.

The amount of time passed reading erotic books and watching porn felt worth while as you practiced what you had visualized. Your tongue swirled around his shaft, moaning around it as much as massaging all around, from the base to his balls to leaving nail marks on his inner thighs and lower abdomen. “Oh, that’s my girl. So good.” Nagi whispered as his hips bucked into your mouth, gagging as he reached the back of your throat.

Your moans grew louder as you felt your climax reach in Reo’s face. Trying to push him off before without success, your thighs clenched around his head as you gave into it. Spasming as he continued to press his tongue on your clit while Nagi continued to fuck your mouth as he kept you in place.

“Come on, baby, a little more.” He whispered to you, as the other side of the bed dipped signaling Reo’s presence. Stroking himself off on top of you as Nagi’s finally cummed into your mouth, drinking down all of his seed after showing it off to him and then caring for Reo’s climax, taking him in your mouth for him to finish.

You’ve probably dreamt of this scenario secretly, as you sat up, the two took turns to claim your lips, grunting at the taste of their cum mix together still present faintly on your lips. Your hands returning to each of their cocks, starting to harden once again.

It was a heated make out session that ended with you on top of Reo, Nagi standing by the bed looking at you two as his cock finally entered you with a bit of struggle.

You were no longer a virgin and so wasn’t Reo anymore. It all happened while your other best friend was intently watching the two of you. You both moaned as he started to move, it was completely different from the feeling of their fingers, you felt filled, truly. You tried to move your hips to match his, your thighs burning while your brain couldn’t function either.

His feet planted on the bed and pushed into you with even more force, feeling him hit spots you’ve never reached by yourself. Your nails dug into his chest. A smirk plastered on his face. “You can take it, love, don’t disappoint me.” He whispered as his hand wrapped around your throat, moaning at the gesture as he pushed back into you making you almost scream. You looked around for your gentle giant, wanting his lips on yours, to share this moment with you too.

Your half-lidded could only make out his figure going around the bed with something in his hand. Losing sight of him as your eyes shut close at a deep thrust from Reo.

Only when you felt liquid dripping onto you, you understood, with Reo’s hands going to your ass spreading it apart for him as he kept going into you. You whimpered as you felt his finger spreading the lube and entering your hole. “Na-Nagi… I don’t-t think I can-“ You managed to say.

“Shh… dont worry, baby, look at you taking Reo so well for your first time. This will be the same.” He traced a line down your spine, making you shiver, your legs tremble as you then watched him spread lube on his own cock.

Reo stopped his movements, edging himself once again as he waited for Nagi as well teasing you all along for your reaction to it. “Thank god that it’s Nagi taking your ass, I wouldn’t be so caring.” And while the semi- warning sent goosebumps on your skin, making you gasp against his lips, you felt yourself clench around him, after all, this whole encounter was of you being used by them. He grinned at the feeling of the walls tightening around him, hissing. “Fuck, you’re a slut… our little slut.” He said, kissing you, relaxing you as Nagi made his way into you.

He groaned as the mere tip passed the ring of muscles, you felt burning, whimpering against Reo’s lips, pulling away from them to moan and grab one of Nagi’s hands in your own. He pushed more and more till he was getting his way into you, grunting loudly. “So fucking tight, shit, princess, it’s so tight.” Your heart flattered at the pet name. Pecking your shoulder, giving you time to adjust before both of them started again.

You were a moaning mess, tears coming down your eyes at the weird feeling in you, between pain and pleasure, over fulfillment and the knot that you felt in your stomach. All your limbs were intertwined, your hips going against their thrusts automatically. You could only imagine if someone walked in on you right now, being rammed by the two guys you always had the hots for secretly.

“Oh god-“ You choked on your words. “It feels so good.” You managed.

“You’re taking it so well, princess. So gorgeous.”

“Perfect slut for us, ours alone.”

They emanated opposite sides of each other. Reo was not so respectful anymore, was not treating you gently, he was degrading you. Nagi who was often crude and more inclined to inappropriate jokes was so caring and praised so much. Both were fulfilling your desires, rough and gentle.

“I- I- I’m going to- ah!” You screamed as you felt your orgasm going through. You could hear them groan as your insides clenched and trapped them, almost milking them out. When you relaxed a little they kept going, going for their own release.

Planting his feet again, holding onto your thighs, Reo thrusted mercilessly as much as Nagi did as he grabbed your shoulders from behind and guided your whole body against his.

Your body didn’t feel like yours for a moment, completely bent at their wills and needs. And you could only welcomed it, your body reacting to your oversensitivity from the previous orgasm as they both finally released deep in you and you did too. Trembling in their hands. As the three of you panted for oxygen, their hips still spasming as their ropes of cum continued to fill you.

“So good, you were so good, baby.” Nagi whispered into your ear as he leaned down and finally stood up.

“Took it so well for your first time.” Reo chuckled, kissing the crown of your head, his arm going over your waist, hugging you to him. His personality completely changing post orgasm. He had to be cocky, as if this wasn't his first as well.

Nagi came back with his phone in hand, Reo grinning as he slowly raised you up to let his cock out as he recorded your rear and cunt as they started to push out their cum. “That’s a sight to remember.” Nagi said under his breath.

“Send it to me, that’s material to jerk off in away games.” Reo said, patting your lower back. You blushed, nuzzling into his chest. “Done” Nagi said and not even seconds later his phone rang out loud.

“You shouldn’t do that without asking me first.” You complained, tracing the lines of Reo’s muscles. Nagi, then, leaned near you, trapping your lips in a kiss. “Can we keep it?” He asked pecking your lips once more and caressing your cheek ever so gently.

“Fine.” You nodded and chuckled at the silly grins they got.

He resumed the kiss and soon after you were being carried in the bathroom, Nagi’s cock thrusting into your swollen pussy from behind as Reo had your hair in a tight fist bouncing it up and down his length as the hot water rained upon the three of you.

Nothing was truly established that night, you were just being fucked throughly, used as nothing more than a cumdump for them, sometimes they both did, sometimes just one and the other watched.

Before you completely passed out, the only thing you heard is how now you knew how they wanted to be greeted by you, how this was going to be their celebration or consolation routine, their stress relieving cycle.

How you were theirs.

You honestly weren’t sure if this was just another of your wet dreams, but when you woke up the day after still in Reo’s bed with his t-shirt on, no panties, with your head on Nagi’s bare chest and Reo’s hand gripping your boob from below, you realized that nothing was going to be the same and fortunately for you, in a positive way.

not my best work. we can get there tho lol. tip! on my master post it’s the ko fi link if you can😓

[theonottsbxtch]

COURAGE | OP81

an: i warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse, if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!

warnings: substance abuse, religous themes, mentions of death & hospitals.

wc: 4.6k

The church bells rang out over the small town of Willow Creek, their low hum rolling through the autumn air like a solemn hymn. Oscar stood at the edge of his front porch, adjusting the cuffs of his Sunday shirt as he waited for her. He always waited for her.

She emerged moments later from her house next door, pulling her shawl tighter against the chill. The hem of her modest dress caught the breeze, brushing against her knees as she approached. She didn’t say much, she never did on Sundays. Her gaze, solemn and steady, flicked toward the church steeple visible from the end of the street.

“Ready?” Oscar asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded, her braid catching the sunlight as they started down the gravel path.

The girl was his best friend, his constant, the one person in this quiet town who felt as real to him as the chipped paint on his window frame or the threadbare pews at St. Anne’s.

Their routine was always the same: church in the morning, quiet afternoons spent sitting on his porch or hers, talking about scripture or nothing at all. It was an existence that felt safe and good, built on a foundation as steady as the faith they shared.

But something had shifted in her lately. He couldn’t place it, not exactly. She still walked with him to church. She still bowed her head during the prayers, her lips moving silently along with the hymns. But her eyes were somewhere else, distant and restless, as though her thoughts had wandered too far and couldn’t find their way home.

“I heard Father O’Connell mention the youth retreat next month,” Oscar said, breaking the silence as they neared the church steps. “He said he’s hoping for a big turnout this year. Are you thinking of going?”

She hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was there, and Oscar caught it like a pebble in his shoe.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Then she offered him a faint smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Oscar didn’t press her. He never did. But as they entered the church, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand lingered at the edge of her shawl, clutching it like a tether.

It started with small things.

Oscar didn’t think much of it when she skipped their afternoon talks one Sunday. Her mum had said she wasn’t feeling well, and that made sense. People got sick; life happened. But then she missed the next Sunday, too. And the one after that.

She stopped coming to the Wednesday youth group meetings at church, which was even stranger. For as long as he could remember, she’d been one of the first to volunteer for scripture readings or help organise bake sales. Now, her name wasn’t even on the signup sheets.

Oscar wanted to ask her about it, but he couldn’t figure out how. It wasn’t like they had a friendship built on confrontation. They’d grown up side by side in the same pews, their lives as intertwined as the ivy creeping up the churchyard walls. But it was a quiet bond, one where words weren’t always necessary.

That’s what made the silence feel so loud.

One Friday afternoon, after work, Oscar saw her for the first time in weeks. She was sitting on the front steps of her house, legs crossed, the heel of her shoe tapping a restless rhythm against the wood.

“Hey,” he called as he approached, hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen you around.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Busy. The word felt wrong coming from her, like a puzzle piece jammed into the wrong spot.

“Your mum said you were sick,” he said, testing the waters.

Her eyes flickered, just for a moment. “Yeah. That too.”

He leaned against the porch railing, watching her closely. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t pin it down. Her braid was still neat, her dress still modest, but the way she sat—loose, almost careless—was unfamiliar.

“You coming to youth group next week?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

She shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like she was seeing through him instead of at him.

“Just not my thing right now,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice he didn’t recognise.

Oscar frowned. “You’ve been going for years.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, standing abruptly. “People change.”

And just like that, she disappeared inside, leaving Oscar alone on the porch with the sound of her footsteps echoing in his ears.

Over the next few weeks, Oscar saw less and less of her. When he did see her, she wasn’t the same.

The first time he noticed the guy, it was at the diner on Main Street. She was sitting in a booth near the window, her back to him, but he recognised her laugh instantly. She wasn’t alone.

The guy was tall, older, with a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He leaned in close when he talked to her, his hand brushing her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oscar stood outside the diner for a long time, watching them through the glass.

When she turned her head and laughed again, Oscar caught a glimpse of her face. There was something wild in her expression, something unrestrained and electric. It scared him.

He didn’t tell her he’d seen her. He wasn’t sure why.

But the next Sunday, when her mum stopped him on his way to church, the worry in her eyes told him she’d seen it too.

“Have you talked to her?” her mum asked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. She won’t talk to me.”

Oscar didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” he offered weakly.

Her mum smiled, but it was the kind of smile people gave at funerals.

“I hope so,” she said.

The next time Oscar saw her, it wasn’t at church or on her front porch. It was behind the convenience store on Elm Street, just after dusk.

He had been walking home, the kind of mindless stroll he often took when his thoughts got too loud. The streets were mostly empty, the only sounds the faint hum of a streetlamp and the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes.

He heard her before he saw her. Laughter—sharp, jagged, and nothing like the laugh he remembered. It came from the alley behind the store, followed by the low murmur of voices.

Oscar turned the corner, and there she was.

She leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The glow of the lighter in the guy’s hand caught her face just long enough for Oscar to see the hollow beneath her eyes, the strange way her smile curled at the edges, like she wasn’t entirely sure it belonged there.

The guy was the same one from the diner, older and out of place in this small town. He said something to her, and she threw her head back in laughter, her voice ringing out into the quiet night.

Oscar froze. She looked so different. Her braid was gone, her hair loose and tangled, framing a face that seemed sharper, thinner. Her clothes were casual but careless, like she’d grabbed the first things within reach. She didn’t look like the girl he’d grown up with—the girl who bowed her head in prayer and scolded him when he skipped scripture reading. She looked like someone else entirely.

The guy noticed Oscar first. He smirked, nudging her with his elbow. “Friend of yours?”

She turned her head, her smile fading when she saw him. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe, or shame—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than he expected.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his throat dry.

She rolled her eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “It’s none of your business, Oscar.”

“It is my business,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my friend.”

She laughed, but it was a brittle sound, lacking any real warmth. “Yeah, well, friends don’t follow each other around like lost puppies.”

Oscar felt the words like a slap, but he didn’t back down. “This isn’t you,” he said quietly. “What are you doing with him?”

The guy smirked again, clearly enjoying the tension. “Relax, man. She’s fine.”

“No one asked you,” Oscar snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He handed her the lighter, brushing her fingers with his in a way that made Oscar’s stomach turn, and walked off down the alley.

She didn’t look at Oscar right away. Instead, she stared at the lighter in her hand, turning it over like it was a puzzle she couldn’t solve.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, her voice softer but still distant. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re not fine,” Oscar said, his frustration bubbling over. “You’ve stopped coming to church. You won’t talk to your mum. And now you’re…” He trailed off, gesturing helplessly toward the cigarette still in her hand.

She sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t need a lecture, okay? I get enough of that at home.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Her gaze flicked to his, and for a brief moment, he saw something raw in her eyes—pain, anger, maybe even fear. But then she blinked, and the mask was back.

“Maybe I’m tired of being the perfect little Catholic girl,” she said, her tone light but cutting. “Did you ever think of that?”

Oscar stared at her, searching for the girl he knew beneath the stranger in front of him. “This isn’t you,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

She pushed off the wall, brushing past him. “Maybe you never really knew me.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the alley, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

That night, Oscar lay awake, staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wanted to help her, to pull her out of whatever dark place she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know how. She wouldn’t let him.

For the first time in years, he prayed not for himself, but for her.

“God,” he whispered into the stillness of his room. “Please. Bring her back.”

It became a pattern.

Oscar would see her slipping further away, each time a little less like the girl he had grown up with and a little more like a stranger. Sometimes it was behind the convenience store. Other times he saw her stumbling out of a car that didn’t belong in their quiet town, the headlights cutting through the dark as it sped off, leaving her swaying on the curb.

She wasn’t hiding it anymore.

When their paths crossed now, she barely looked at him. Her words, when she offered any, were short and cold, like she was daring him to stop caring. But he couldn’t stop.

So he prayed.

Every night, he knelt by his bed, his hands clasped tightly together, his eyes shut so hard it hurt. He prayed for her to come back, for her to see what she was doing to herself. He prayed for the strength to find the right words, the right actions, anything to pull her out of this spiral. But every morning, when he saw her again—laughing too loud, her eyes bloodshot and empty—it felt like no one was listening.

One night, well past midnight, there was a knock on his window. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, and stumbled to open it. She was standing there, her hair tangled and wild, her face streaked with something he couldn’t tell if it was makeup or tears.

“You need to stop,” she said, her voice slurred but venomous.

“Stop what?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Praying for me,” she snapped. “I know you’re doing it. Just… stop.”

Her words stung, but what hurt more was the way she looked at him—like he was the enemy. Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving him standing in the cold.

A week later, it was her mum who knocked—not on his window, but on his door.

Oscar opened it to find her standing on the porch, her face pale and drawn, her eyes red from crying. She looked older than he’d ever seen her, like the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders and wouldn’t let go.

“Hi, Ms,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

She didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, clutching the edge of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping her together. “Oscar,” she began, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

He felt his stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her,” she said, her voice cracking. “She’s… I don’t know what’s happening to her. She barely comes home anymore. And when she does…” She broke off, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Oscar didn’t need her to finish. He’d seen it all himself.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Her mother continued, her words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve begged her to stop, to come back to church, to tell me what’s going on, but she won’t listen. She doesn’t even look at me anymore. And now…” She trailed off again, her shoulders shaking as tears filled her eyes.

Oscar reached out instinctively, placing a hand on her arm. “Ms…”

She shook her head, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know what to do, Oscar. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t stop it. I thought maybe you could… I don’t know. Talk to her. Get through to her. She listens to you, doesn’t she?”

The desperation in her voice was like a knife in his chest.

“She used to,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But not anymore. She won’t let me help her. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times.”

Her face crumpled, and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “She’s all I have,” she choked out. “It’s just me and her. I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Oscar hesitated, his heart breaking at the sight of her. He wanted to promise her that he could fix everything, that he’d bring her daughter back, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, the house silent except for her quiet, broken cries.

When she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes, she gave him a look so full of raw hope it made his chest ache. “Please, Oscar,” she said. “Don’t give up on her.”

He nodded, though his heart was heavy with doubt. “I won’t.”

But as he watched her walk back across the front garden to her house, the weight of the promise settled over him like a stone. He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want saving.

So that night, like every night before, he knelt by his bed and prayed.

“God,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling. “Please. Show me what to do.”

That night the ringing of his phone jolted Oscar out of a restless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was his alarm, but the screen glowed faintly in the dark: Unknown Number.

He rubbed his eyes and answered, his voice groggy. “Hello?”

The sound on the other end wasn’t words at first. It was crying—deep, heaving sobs that clawed at his chest before he even recognised her voice.

“It’s me,” she managed between gasps.

Oscar sat up so quickly the blankets slid off his lap. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I’m… I’m at this party, and I—I took something, and now I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she let out another sob. “I feel so weird, Oscar. I feel like I’m dying.”

His heart dropped. “You’re not dying,” he said quickly, already grabbing his keys from the nightstand. “You’re not. I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”

She mumbled the address through her tears, barely coherent, but he caught enough to recognise the street. It was across town, the kind of neighborhood he tried to avoid.

“Stay where you are,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and bolted for the door, his chest tight with fear.

The streets were eerily quiet as he sped through town, the glow of his headlights slicing through the darkness. His mind raced faster than the car, flashing through every worst-case scenario he could imagine. He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

When he turned onto the street, he knew he was in the right place. Cars were lined haphazardly along the curb, some with doors still hanging open. Music blared from the house, but the sound was disjointed, chaotic.

And then he saw them.

A wave of people surged out the front door, spilling into the front garden and onto the street. They were shouting, laughing, some tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Oscar pulled over and jumped out of the car, his heart pounding.

“What’s going on?” he yelled at one of them, grabbing a guy by the arm.

“Cops are coming,” the guy slurred, shaking him off. “Some girl OD’d, man. It’s bad.”

Oscar didn’t wait to hear more. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing against the flow of bodies until he reached the front door. The smell hit him first—alcohol, smoke, and something sour underneath.

Inside, the scene was chaos. The music was still blaring, but most of the partygoers were gone, leaving behind overturned cups and broken bottles. He stepped over a pile of discarded coats and followed the sound of a frantic voice.

In the living room, he found her.

She was lying on the floor, her face pale, looking like nothing he’d ever seen before. A girl about their age was kneeling beside her, pressing her hands against her chest in a desperate rhythm.

“Come on,” the girl muttered, her voice shaking. “Come on, don’t do this.” She glanced up briefly, her phone pressed to her ear. “Yeah, I’m doing compressions,” she said into the receiver. “Please, hurry.”

Oscar froze for a moment, the sight stealing the air from his lungs. She looked so small, so fragile. Her hair was damp with sweat, her lips tinged blue.

The girl performing CPR looked up again, her eyes wild. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

Her words jolted him into motion. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” the girl snapped. “She took something—pills, I think. Someone said it was laced, but I don’t know with what.” 

Oscar’s hands hovered uselessly over her, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never been trained for this, never thought he’d need to be.

But he knew he needed to do something, looking at the girl in front of him, he watched her hands and pushed them aside, continuing for her. 

“She went upstairs to take a phone call, walked back in and collapsed.” The girl sat back on her heels, then leaned forward to blow two breaths into her mouth. “They thought it was a joke at first, but it all got so serious all of a sudden.” Oscar continued the same rhythm on her chest, watching as the girl flexed her hands nervously. Underneath his breath, he was silently praying that someone was listening, because in the last couple of weeks he was beginning to lose faith. No one listened to him when he was desperate, begging for someone to save her.

“Stay with me,” the other girl murmured, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “Don’t you dare give up.”

The distant wail of sirens broke through the chaos, growing louder with every passing second. Relief flooded Oscar’s chest, but it was fleeting. He looked down at her pale, lifeless face and felt the weight of every prayer he’d ever whispered.

“God,” he said under his breath, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t take her.”

The sirens grew deafening as the paramedics burst through the door. Oscar was pulled back, forced to watch as they took over, their voices calm but urgent as they worked to save her.

He didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips.

As they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out the door, Oscar followed, his legs unsteady but his resolve firm. He wasn’t leaving her—not now, not ever.

He watched them close the doors of the back of the ambulance and ran back to his car to follow them when he saw the girl weakly walk out of the house. He could have just left her, but she had just saved his best friend’s life. Instead, he walked back up to the house, hugged her and offered her a lift.

When Oscar finally got to the hospital, it was cold and quiet in a way that felt wrong, like it was holding its breath. Oscar sat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped tightly together. He had barely spoken to anyone since they arrived, giving only short, clipped answers to the nurses’ questions.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up. The IV in her arm looked too big, too intrusive, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

Finally, her eyelids fluttered.

He shot upright, his breath catching as she groaned softly, her head turning toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and heavy, but when they landed on him, recognition flickered.

“Oscar?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let out a shaky laugh that was more relief than joy. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He never cursed. 

She blinked, her gaze shifting to the IV in her arm, the sterile hospital room around her. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice breaking.

She shook her head weakly, then winced. “I… I don’t know. I was at the party, and then…” Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowing as if the memory was too painful to touch.

Oscar leaned closer, his face inches from hers. “What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low but trembling. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve—” He stopped himself, his chest heaving as he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

This wasn’t what she needed to hear.

She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I didn’t think it would…”

Oscar let out a shuddering breath, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

They sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them.

A nurse came in not long after, checking her vitals and saying she’d be discharged soon. Oscar nodded numbly, his mind already racing.

When they stepped out of the hospital, the chill of the early morning air hit them both. He helped her to the car, her steps unsteady, and buckled her into the passenger seat. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes glassy and distant.

“I’ll call your mum,” he said, turning the key in the ignition.

“No,” she said quickly, her voice hoarse but firm.

Oscar paused, his hand on the wheel. “I need to tell her. I stopped the hospital from calling her.”

“Please, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I can’t face her right now.”

He hesitated, the conflict written all over his face. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally, his voice soft.

“Just drive,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

So he did.

They didn’t talk as the car rumbled down the empty highway. The radio was off, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of her shifting in her seat.

She didn’t cry, but her silence was heavy, and Oscar didn’t push her. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.

After a couple of hours, her breathing evened out, and when he glanced over, he saw that she’d fallen asleep, her face turned toward him, her expression soft but exhausted.

He sighed, his chest aching with a mix of relief and sadness. He took the next exit and drove toward her house.

When they arrived, it was still early, the sky a pale gray as dawn broke. He parked in front of her house, then got out and walked around to her side. Carefully, he opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping an arm under her knees and another around her back.

She stirred slightly as he lifted her, but she didn’t wake. Her head lolled against his chest, and he carried her up the porch steps and knocked softly on the door.

It swung open almost immediately, and her mum stood there, her face a mixture of worry and exhaustion. When she saw her daughter in his arms, she let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.

“She’s okay,” Oscar said quickly, his voice gentle. “She’s just sleeping.”

Her mum nodded, tears streaming down her face. She stepped aside, and he carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa.

Her mother sank to her knees beside her, sobbing quietly as she brushed the hair from her daughter’s face. “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at Oscar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

Oscar knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

They sat there for a while, her mum’s quiet cries filling the silence.

Eventually, Oscar cleared his throat. “Do you have a spare set of sheets?” he asked.

She looked at him, confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to stay,” he said. “Just for tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Her mum nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice breaking.

Later, after setting up a makeshift bed on the floor beside the couch, Oscar lay there, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet now, her mum having gone to bed, but he could hear her breathing softly above him.

He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer, one of gratitude this time.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for giving her another chance.”

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone was listening.

the end.

[beegomess]

T.R. || Loving you forever

Summary: Tom and you made a pact that they would be together forever, and you are willing to do so. Even if you have to trick some people into having him in your arms again.

Warnings: The story will take place in the 5thº year.

You, a brilliant student of Slytherin, carry with you an emotional weight and a story that few can understand. The connection you shared with Tom Riddle transcends mere friendship or romance; it was a union of souls who promised a future together, challenging not only conventions, but also the timelines themselves.

The promise made with Tom was more than words; it was a sealed pact with a love so intense that it seemed immortal. When the spell cast by him projected you forward in time, it was not just an escape, but a way to preserve this connection beyond death and forgetfulness. Every day at Hogwarts, while you keep your Slytherin student facade, it is a silent battle to hide the true weight of your heart — the pain of being separated from the one you love most and the persistent hope of meeting him again.

Current life, with its challenges and interactions, is constantly filtered through the memory of the past. Every step you take is calculated, each action is measured with the intention not only to fulfill your mission, but also to keep alive the memory of the love that once defined your existence. The fact that Tom's diary is the key to his resurrection makes his quest a mixture of duty and desire, an effort to restore what has been lost and, at the same time, a longing for a future where you can be together again.

As you approach Harry Potter, you are not only in search of a magical object; you are struggling to unite two worlds - the present and the past, love and obligation, the real and the imagined. Every moment you spend trying to gain Potter's trust is a step closer to realizing a promise that was made in simpler times, and also an attempt to reconcile what was left behind with what can still be achieved.

Behind his calm smile and the calculated strategies, there is a soul marked by an eternity of longing and a heart that still pulsates for the love that has never been faded. The mission is your redemption and your purpose, and its success is the key to restoring a piece of a past that you have never been able to leave completely behind.

His "frendity" began in a Herbology class. You were still someone unknown to him, which certainly helped you.

Harry began to sympathize with you some time ago, seeing you as an unexpected ally. It didn't take long for an obstacle to emerge in his path. Hermione Granger began to suspect her true intentions and decided to warn Harry about you.

One afternoon, while you were talking to Harry in the hallway, Hermione approached with a serious expression, which made you say goodbye and move away discreetly.

- Harry, are you sure you can trust her? - Hermione asked, her voice loaded with concern. - She is from Slytherin, and this should be taken into account.

Harry looked at Hermione, with a confused expression.

- I see no reason to suspect her. She has been very helpful. - Harry replied, trying to seem convinced.

Hermione crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on Harry with a determined look.

- Besides, she is also born a sucker, just like you. It wouldn't be a bad idea to have someone from Slytherin around. But don't worry, I know the reputation of the house is not the best. - He paused, as if expecting an argument.

Although it was not true that you were a "born sucker", the lie that you faced prejudice in Slytherin had a convincing effect on Harry. He believed it quickly, making his task easier.

- I just want you to be cautious. - Hermione insisted. - Even if she seems friendly, Slytherins have a reputation and, in my experience, it is always better not to let your guard down.

Despite Hermione's reservations, Harry continued to open up to you, but his interventions added a layer of tension to his plan. Maintaining Harry's confidence while dealing with Hermione's vigilance was a constant game of balance. Their meetings were planned to look spontaneous, always with a welcoming smile and an offer of genuine help. In each interaction, you calibrated your behavior to be useful and reliable, so that Harry did not suspect his true intentions.

[...]

On the night of that same day, the library was wrapped in an almost reverential silence, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles and the soft glow of the magic lamps. The tall bookshelves projected mysterious shadows, creating an environment that combined comminess and mystery. Harry Potter was sitting at a table, immersed in a thick book, but his expression showed distraction.

You approached with a calm and strategic posture, your clear goal. Harry was distracted, and you noticed a subtle glow emanating from his bag, which was partially open on the table. With a trained look, you immediately recognized Tom Riddle's diary, shining slightly under the light of the library.

- Harry! - You started, your soft and friendly voice - It looks like you're having trouble with this material. Do you need help?

Harry looked up at you, his expression mixing relief with a twinge of suspicion. He moved slightly away from the bag, as if unconsciously protecting the valuable object it contained.

- Oh, it's you. - Harry replied, a little surprised. - Actually, I'm having difficulties with it. I would appreciate it if you can take a look.

You smiled and leaned over to examine the book, your hand sliding discreetly in the direction of the bag. The diary was there, clearly visible through the opening. You tried to stay calm while adjusting your position, trying to get closer to the bag without drawing attention.

However, Harry seemed to notice the movement. His eyes fixed on his hand next to the bag and he hardened a little, his lips closing in a thin line.

The silence of the library was interrupted by a slight sound of something falling on the floor. Tom Riddle's diary, which was visibly exposed in Harry's bag, slipped from the opening and fell with a deaf thum on the tiled floor. The sound made Harry lean abruptly to pick up the object, his expression of concern quickly turning into tension.

He bent down and caught the diary quickly, his fingers squeezing the object firmly as he straightened. His eyes were now fixed on the diary, and there was a shadow of nervousness on his face. The tension was palpable, and he made a visible effort to hide the book in his bag carefully, trying to stay calm.

Taking advantage of the moment, you leaned a little further forward, watching the scene with a look of genuine concern.

- It seems that this is very important to you - you said, your voice loaded with a carefully calculated empathy. - What is this book? It seems to be causing a lot of tension.

Harry looked at you with an expression of surprise and discomfort. He hesitated for a moment, clearly struggling to decide how much to reveal. The shadow of distrust still hovered in his eyes, but the sincerity in his tone seemed to have created a gap.

- It's just one... a personal item. - Harry replied, his voice a little hesitant. - It's nothing to worry about.

You gave a slight understanding smile, trying to soften the situation and keep gaining your trust.

- I Understand. Sometimes, we all have things that we prefer to keep to ourselves. - You said, tilting your head in a friendly way. - But if you need someone to talk to or help with anything, I'm here for that.

Harry seemed to relax a little, although there was still a pinch of caution in his eyes. He clearly appreciated the offer of support, but was still struggling to balance trust with distrust.

- Thank you. - Harry said, his tone a little more relaxed, but still careful. - It's good to know that.

You took advantage of the moment to take a step closer, but without invading his personal space.

- No problem, Harry. The truth is that I'm here to help, and I hope we can work together to overcome any difficulty. - You paused, watching him carefully. - If you need anything, especially if the book is causing problems, know that you can talk to me.

Harry gave a slight nod, his gaze still a little cautious, but grateful. The diary, now again hidden in the bag, seemed to be a source of great concern for him, and his answer indicated that he was starting to open up a little more.

As you walked away, a feeling of satisfaction and relief mixed with the awareness that distrust was still present. Every step towards Harry's trust was a victory.

[...]

The next day, Hogwarts was immersed in an atmosphere of expectation. A timid sun filtered through the windows of the Great Hall, casting soft rays of light on the students' tables. The murmuring conversations and the usual clamor were interrupted when an urgent announcement echoed through the corridors.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were summoned to the Flitwick professor's room due to an unexpected situation: the House's Academic Performance Report was severely outdated and there was an alarming discrepancy in the grades of several students. Hermione, known for her perfectionism and dedication, was immediately involved in solving the problem, while Ron, although initially reluctant, was dragged into the task due to his friendship with Hermione and his desire to help her.

The situation was carefully orchestrated by you. A quick manipulation in the academic records and a subtle error in the calculations had been enough to create a distraction that involved Hermione and Ron for several hours. The confusion generated and the need to correct the data urgently caused them to focus intensely on the task, leaving Harry Potter alone and unprotected.

With Hermione and Ron busy, you saw the perfect opportunity to get closer to Harry. The day was clear and calm, and the library was almost deserted. Harry was sitting at one of the tables, studying alone, his concentration interrupted only occasionally by looks of concern.

In the following hours, you adopted a meticulous surveillance strategy, remaining discreet and observant while following Harry Potter's movements. At every moment, you him through the corridors of Hogwarts, keeping a safe distance so as not to raise suspicions. His goal was clear: to wait for the right moment to intervene and ensure that he could follow Harry's footsteps for Tom Riddle's diary.

The library, where you were often nearby, became your observation post. On some occasions, you infiltrated the common areas and spent time in strategic corridors, always with a watchful eye on any sign that could indicate the boy's plans.

It was on a particularly quiet afternoon, while you were leaning discreetly against one of the walls of the corridor near the women's bathroom, that something caught your attention. Harry was alone, his hesitant steps echoing down the deserted corridor. He seemed to follow a voice that no one else could hear, an expression of curiosity and confusion on his face.

The scene aroused your interest immediately. Harry approached the women's bathroom with a fixed look, almost hypnotized, following the inaudible sound. This place, in particular, carried an emotional weight for you. It was the same bathroom where you and Tom Riddle had spent intimate and secret moments during your youth. It was also the entrance to the Secret Chamber, a vital place for his plans.

You hid in the shadows, watching carefully as Harry stood in front of the bathroom door. He hesitated for a moment, looking around as if trying to understand the origin of the voice that called him. His heart beat faster when he saw his interaction with the family environment. The old walls and dusty mirrors looked like silent witnesses of the past, preserving the secrets and history of his love with Tom.

Harry entered the bathroom, and the door closed smoothly behind him. You knew that could be the moment you were waiting for.

With your mind boiling with excitement and a renewed desire to achieve your goal, you waited patiently. The anticipation of finally being able to recover his beloved Tommy and the certainty that the moment was approaching filled his heart with a mixture of hope and anxious expectation.

After a few minutes, you decided to follow Harry. Entering the women's bathroom, nostalgia enveloped him when he remembered the moments shared with Tom there. Each step he took brought her closer to the achievement of his goal. Harry's presence there meant that something important was about to happen, and you were determined to ensure that the plan to bring Tom Riddle back was realized.

You moved forward, your breathing controlled, moving with the grace and caution of a predator. When he entered the bathroom, he saw Harry standing in front of a sink, murmuring words that activated the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. A smile of satisfaction appeared on his lips. The way was open, and you were ready to follow Harry and recover the diary that meant so much to you and Tom.

Harry looked around one last time, then disappeared through the secret entrance. Without wasting time, you followed him, descending through the depths of the Secret Chamber, each step bringing you closer to your final goal.

Nothing could stop you from bringing your boyfriend back, not even the famous Harry Potter. After all, you had promised Tom eternity together, and you were willing to do anything to fulfill that promise.

With the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets open, you followed Harry carefully, keeping yourself in the shadows so as not to be detected. The narrow passage widened as they advanced, revealing a path of stones flanked by statues of imposing snakes. The air was humid and cold, and the smell of mold impregnated the environment.

The tension increased with each step. The statues of snakes, with their eyes fixed and mouths open, seemed to watch you as you advanced. The dim light reflected on the damp stones, creating a gloomy and mysterious environment. In the background, an immense sculpture of Salazar Slytherin's face dominated the space, his stern gaze seeming to judge anyone who dared to enter that sacred place.

You stayed in the shadows, watching as Harry approached the center of the chamber. His heart beat faster when he saw Gina Weasley lying on the floor, apparently unconscious. Harry ran to her, kneeling next to her and trying to wake her up with evident despair.

- Gina! Wake up, please! Gina!

You saw the frustration and fear in Harry's eyes as he insisted that Gina wake up. He shook her slightly, trying to resuscitate her. But before he could make any progress, a familiar voice echoed through the walls of the chamber, making his heart jump.

- She's not going to wake up.

You recognized the voice instantly. It was Tom Riddle, or rather, a projection of his youth. He emerged from the shadows, his imposing presence and cold look fixed on Harry. Time seemed to stop as you watched the scene unfold, the presence of Tom filling the camera with a sense of power and authority.

Harry stared at Tom with a mixture of confusion and determination.

- Tom... Tom Riddle. - Harry stuttered. - What do you mean she won't wake up? Is she...?

- She's still alive, but by a thread. - Your acquaintance and beloved Tom Riddle was finally there.

Tom's footsteps approached Harry, who stared at him with a certain fear.

- Are you a ghost?

- A memory preserved in a diary for 50 years. - Slytherin corrected it.

Tom noticed Harry's wand fallen and picked it up. Harry still seemed worried about Gina, a little distracted to realize.

- She looks cold. Tom, and the basilisk? - Harry looked up and noticed his wand in Tom's hands. - Return my wand, Tom. - The boy used an authoritarian voice.

- Why? You won't need it. - Riddle replied simply.

- Look, we have to go. We need to save her. - Potter insisted.

- I don't think I can do that, Harry. - He paused. - While Gina gets weaker, I get stronger.

It was at that moment that you decided to get out of the shadows. Harry, surprised to see you there, tried to position himself to protect her.

- Y/N, get out of here! He's dangerous! - Harry shouted, the concern evident in his voice.

But you just smiled and took a few steps towards Tom, ignoring Harry's warning. Her eyes fixed on the familiar and beloved face, Tom's expression softening slightly when recognizing her.

- Y/N? - Tom murmured, a mixture of surprise and recognition in his voice.

You nodded, the emotion evident in your eyes.

- Tom... Finally. - you said, the voice choked. - I spent 50 years looking for you, waiting for this moment.

Harry watched the scene, just shocked and confused.

- Y/N, what are you doing? He's trying to hurt Gina!

Tom reached out, and you took it without hesitation, feeling the familiar warmth of your touch.

- Y/N... my dear. - Tom said softly, his eyes fixed on yours. - I missed you so much. Every second away from you was an eternity.

- You have no idea how long I waited for this. - You answered, the emotion overflowing as I hugged you.

Harry, still processing the revelation, was trying to find a way to save Gina and prevent Tom's plans. But Tom's presence by your side and his growing power made it clear that you would not let anything or anyone interfere in your reunion.

Tom held his hand firmly, his dark eyes full of determination. Harry, still trying to understand what was happening, took a step forward, desperate to save Gina and understand the situation.

- Y/N, that's crazy! He's dangerous! - Harry begged.

You looked at Harry, without showing regret, just firmness. Tom, with Harry's wand in hand, turned to you, a cold smile on his lips as if admiring her.

Harry, confused and distressed, continued to look at you and Tom, paralyzed next to Gina's unconscious body. His expression was a mixture of shock and despair.

- Why, Y/N? How can you do that? - Harry managed to murmur, his voice full of frustration.

Tom gave an enigmatic smile.

- Harry, you can't understand. Y/N and I share a past that transcends any notion you may have. We were colleagues at Hogwarts, and our love was something deep and immortal. We made a promise of eternity that nothing and no one can undo.

Harry looked at Tom in disbelief.

- But... how did she not appear in the memories I saw? - Harry questioned, still trying to understand.

This time you answered coldly.

- Tom showed you only what he wanted you to see. There are many things you don't know, many hidden truths. I've always been by your side, even when you couldn't see it. - You pause, but then it continues. - Thank you for making things easier, Harry.

Tom began to resume his complete physical state, his presence solidifying as he again became an imposing and real figure. Harry, paralyzed next to Gina, watched feeling the failure on his shoulders.

_______________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee 🫶🏼✨

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Crossed Wires

Marshall had never been good at relationships. Too much time spent in the studio, too much baggage, too much… him. But somehow, you had slipped past his defenses. You were sharp, funny, and way too young for him. Young enough that when you first met, he’d almost walked away on principle.

But you weren’t just some girl chasing after the infamous Eminem. You saw him—Marshall, the man behind the music, the one who never quite figured out how to balance fame and real life. And somehow, despite his reluctance, despite the age gap, despite everything… he couldn’t stay away.

That’s why your relationship was a secret. One he hadn’t even told his daughters about.

So when you showed up at Hailie’s house on a Saturday afternoon, dressed casually with a bottle of wine in hand, the last person you expected to lock eyes with was Marshall Mathers. And by the way his face paled, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you either.

“What the f—” He barely caught himself as his gaze darted between you and Hailie, who was cheerfully introducing you to some other friends.

You felt your stomach drop. “You’re… you’re her dad?”

He blinked. “You know Hailie?”

“Of course, I know Hailie! She’s my friend from college!”

Marshall ran a hand down his face, as if hoping this was some insane fever dream. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

Hailie, still oblivious to the fact that a literal crisis was unfolding in front of her, grinned. “Dad! I didn’t know you knew Y/N!”

Oh, he knew you. Intimately.

Your eyes were screaming at him to say something, but he was still frozen in place.

“I, uh… yeah,” he finally mumbled. “I know her.”

Hailie beamed. “Small world, huh?”

You and Marshall shared a look, both internally panicking but externally forcing the most awkward smiles of your lives.

Yeah. Too small.

Marshall hadn’t felt this kind of panic since the last time he bombed on stage.

You could practically see the gears in his head jamming as he forced a stiff nod and stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets like some awkward teenager. Meanwhile, you were fighting every instinct to grab his arm and drag him into the nearest empty room for an emergency damage-control meeting.

But that would be suspicious.

So instead, you forced a bright smile, praying Hailie didn’t notice how your voice cracked when you said, “Yeah, totally a small world!”

Marshall, for his part, just grunted. Classic.

And just like that, the party went on.

Except now, you and Marshall were stuck in some twisted game of social survival, forced to act like two people who had not spent last weekend tangled up in his bed. And to make things worse? Hailie was curious.

“So how exactly do you guys know each other?” she asked, plopping down on the couch next to you with a beer in hand.

Marshall, standing across the room, immediately pulled out his phone. A second later, yours vibrated.

M: wtf do we say

You forced a laugh. “Oh, you know… mutual friends.”

Hailie raised an eyebrow. “Like who?”

Your phone buzzed again.

M: GIVE HER A NAME WTF

Your mind scrambled before blurting out, “Um, Nathan?”

Marshall’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Nate?”

Hailie looked skeptical. “My uncle Nate?”

Your phone vibrated so fast you swore it might catch fire.

M: yOU KNOW MY BROTHER??

You resisted the urge to glare at him. Not helping.

“Uh, yeah! I met Nate once,” you said, nodding way too enthusiastically. “At, um… a bar?”

Hailie squinted. “Nate doesn’t drink.”

God. Damn. It.

Your phone buzzed again.

M: you are the WORST at this

You swallowed hard. “Right, I meant, like… a coffee bar?”

Hailie blinked. “A Starbucks?”

Marshall coughed violently, probably to cover a laugh, and you shot him a do not start with me look.

“Yeah! Totally Starbucks,” you said, scrambling. “And we just… you know, started talking, and then I met your dad, and yeah.”

Hailie still looked suspicious, but before she could interrogate you further, someone called her name from across the room. She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at you. “I will be circling back to this.”

As soon as she walked away, you whipped out your phone.

You: We’re so bad at this

M: I know. We need to escape

You: We can’t. That would look even weirder.

M: …then we suffer.

You sighed, stealing a glance at Marshall, who was staring at his beer like it held all the answers to this nightmare.

Yeah. Suffering it was.

---

Marshall had survived rap battles, lawsuits, and the entire Machine Gun Kelly incident, but nothing—nothing—had prepared him for Hailie’s suspicious glare as she cornered him in the kitchen.

“So,” she started, popping open another beer. “You and Y/N, huh?”

Marshall, who had been quietly texting you under the table, immediately locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket like a guilty teenager. “What about us?”

Hailie leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You tell me.”

Marshall played it cool, taking a slow sip of his drink. “She said we met through Nate.”

Hailie nodded. “Right. At a coffee bar.”

“…Yeah.”

“She doesn’t drink coffee.”

Marshall choked on his beer. “What?”

“She literally hates it. The smell, the taste, all of it. She orders hot chocolate when we go to Starbucks.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He already knew it was you, probably panicking.

You: SOS. SHE’S ASKING QUESTIONS.

Marshall took a deep breath. “Uh, well… maybe she was there for, I dunno, tea or some shit?”

Hailie narrowed her eyes. “You don’t drink coffee either.”

“Okay, what is this, the FBI?” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I just think it’s weird,” she said, studying him like a science experiment. “You never mentioned knowing her, and she never mentioned knowing you. And you”—she pointed at him—“are acting sketchy as hell.”

His phone buzzed again.

You: She smells fear. ABORT.

Marshall sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look, we’ve met a couple times. She’s cool. That’s it.”

Hailie hummed in a way that let him know she definitely wasn’t buying it. “Right. Just a couple times.”

“Yep.”

“Not, like, a lot of times?”

“Nope.”

“Not, like… at your house times?”

Marshall took another long sip of beer, avoiding eye contact. “Hailie, I swear to God—”

“I’m just saying,” she interrupted, smirking now. “You’re acting real weird over a ‘mutual friend.’”

His phone buzzed one more time.

You: Are we about to get caught?

He sighed, already feeling a headache coming on.

M: Probably.

---

You didn’t mean to break. You really didn’t. But Hailie was staring at you with that look—the one she used when she knew someone was full of shit. And you were. So full of shit.

It was only a matter of time before she cracked you open like a damn walnut.

So you did the only thing you could. You exhaled sharply, set down your drink, and muttered, “Okay, fine. You wanna know the truth?”

Hailie’s eyebrows shot up. Marshall, who had just entered the room, froze mid-step. “Y/N—” he started, warning in his tone.

“No, she’s right,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “This is stupid. The real story? We met on Tinder.”

Dead silence.

Marshall visibly cringed, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“A year ago,” you continued, ignoring him. “We started hooking up, then going on actual dates, and now… I guess we’re, like, dating-dating?”

Hailie’s jaw actually dropped. You didn’t blame her.

“You met my dad on Tinder?!”

Marshall groaned, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

“We didn’t know we both knew you!” you added quickly. “We never thought to, like, cross-reference our lives because—”

“Because why the fuck would I ever think to ask if my girlfriend is friends with my daughter?” Marshall muttered, pacing now.

Hailie blinked, looking between the two of you like she was witnessing some kind of twisted social experiment. Then, to both of your shock, she burst out laughing.

Like, full-on, can’t-breathe, tears-in-her-eyes laughing.

You and Marshall just stared.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed, gripping the counter. “You two are the dumbest people I have ever met.”

Marshall scowled. “Wow. Thanks.”

“No, really.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “Dad, you don’t date. You literally never date. And you”—she pointed at you—“don’t do Tinder hookups! How the hell did this even happen?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Honestly? No idea.”

Hailie shook her head, grinning. “I mean, it’s weird, but… holy shit, I’m so glad I got to watch you both absolutely crumble under pressure. That was amazing.”

Marshall just groaned, finally sinking into a chair. But under the frustration, you saw something else—guilt.

And you knew why.

After a beat, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Hailie… I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

She softened a little, still smiling but more understanding now. “I know.”

“I just—” He sighed again. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. And by the time I thought about it, it already felt too late.”

Hailie nodded. “I get it. But, like… you know you can just tell me things, right? Especially if they involve someone I actually know?”

Marshall chuckled dryly. “Yeah. Noted.”

She shook her head again, still grinning. “I cannot wait to tell Nate and Lainey about this.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no.”

[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

[monstertreden]

「RUFUS'S EXPENSIVE CAKE ORDER 」

-Reader: Written with a female reader in mind -TW: none -Character: Reno (Final Fantasy 7) -Summary: Rufus decided to purchase a unique tower cake to celebrate his successful new board meeting, leaving Reno with the task of safely retrieving it. -Word count : 774 -A/N: This is my first time writing, thus forgive me for some grammatical errors or if I didn’t exactly nail Reno’s character🧍‍♀️I'm open to any feedback! I need to get back on my FF7 old hypetrain

It’s another lazy afternoon at the Turks’ headquarters in Midgar. Everyone else had been dismissed hours ago and, since then, you’ve been texting Elena about the new shop you recently visited. Just now everything seemed so peaceful— oh so peaceful—until Reno bursts through the door, stumbling over his own feet and nearly crashing into the meeting table. His signature red hair is messier than usual... was that sour cream on his goggles..?

 As soon as he stumbled, he quickly recomposed himself and adjusted the stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face, trying to look cool despite his grand entrance. "Alright-, listen- up pretty! We... got abitofasituationonourhands." He catches his breath and sits up beside you on the comfortable leather sofa, his arm draped over the backrest as he crosses his legs.

The gears in your head take a moment to process his words, then it hits you. You glance at him “Reno… shouldn’t you be working, instead of—whatever this is?” You gesture to his dishevelled appearance, plucking a strawberry from his hair. “Did you crash a wedding?”

“Pssh, nahh, plus I’m always workin’, no time for weddings...Heyy, listenn, hear me out, 'cause this is extremely serious” He leans in closer, a very exaggerated, overly dramatic, stare painted on his face, hands inching closer to the sides of your head, before impulsively shaking it.

“It’s the cake!”

“The hell are you talking about-“

"-A cake emergency!” Reno cuts you off “Rufus ordered this, like, super deluxe, tower cake from that fancy bakery in Sector 1, right? It’s that kind of cake that costs more than our week's pay combined! But here’s the thing—Tseng’s definitely gonna kill me if I bring this to him."

"Wait, you’re delivering cakes now? Did Tseng promote you to be Rufus’s personal Uber driver?"

“It’s not ‘delivering,’ alright? It’s more like escorting— see, it’s a top-priority mission.”

He says it with an air of importance, puffing out his chest, but then quickly deflates as he realizes the state of the cake box he put on the table, the bakery label on it is so faded it’s unreadable.

"But I... kinda...smashed it..."

Reno sulks, holding the slightly crumpled cake box like it’s a priceless treasure, while you burst into laughter.

“You’re kidding, right? Ohhh, he’s going to be soooo mad.”

“Look, it’s still edible!” He taps the wrinkled package “It’s just, you know... restructured.”

He opens the box, revealing the once-perfect cake in a state of complete chaos. Macarons and strawberries are scattered everywhere, and the longer you stare at it, the more it resembles an abstract art piece than a cake.

"Yeah, good luck explaining that to Tseng—let alone Rufus.”

Reno, completely unfazed, grins at you as if he has a brilliant plan.

“That’s where you come in! You’re good at talking to people, aren't you? My favorite schemer! You just gotta, you know, help me spin this whole thing. Maybe we can blame Rude or something. He won’t mind. We could smash the cake on his bald head..."

He says it with a casual wave of his hand, as if throwing his partner under the bus is no big deal.

“Yeahh, no thanks. This one’s all yours, buddy. Have fun with that. I’m not taking the blame for your mess if we get caught.”

The redhead groans and slumps back on the sofa. "Man, I was hoping you’d go along with me. How can you not agree to this?”

Just then, your phone buzzes. Expecting another text from Elena, you glance down, only to see a message from Rude pop up instead:

Rude: "That idiot dropped the cake, didn’t he? Rufus is getting impatient with each passing minute"

"Rude’s onto you."

"Of course he is..."

With a sigh and a big cat stretch, Reno stands up, grabbing the cake box with a determined look, despite its sorry state.

"Alright, alright, I’ll fix this. Maybe if I just... slap it back together? Yeah, yeah, that’ll do. Thanks for the pep talk. You can keep whatever fell out of my hair! …Maybee give me a call if I don’t make it back in, let’s say... 40 minutes, m’kay?"

And with that, Reno rushes out of Tusk's headquarters, shouting back as the cake box nearly slips from his hands. “But if this works, you owe me a nice, expensive dinner!”.

.

.

.

.

His plan was bound to fail, regardless of what he attempted.

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights I Chapter 10

satoru gojo x f!reader × suguru geto

plot: you moved to tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. as you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

chapter summary: you were starting to feel a little overwhelmed with how much attention you had to divide between so many people and then in the midst of it all, something went terribly wrong.

warnings: dubcon

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

10. Just “Friends”

Back home at last, you chose to lay in bed until around four in the afternoon as you muddied your own mind with conflicting thoughts—trying to, hoping—to make sense of everything that had happened so far.

You weren’t quite looking forward to socialising with someone new, but you figured that if they were Shoko approved, then it was likely absolutely fine, so come the correct hour, you unstuck yourself from bed and entered a better state of mind.

Shoko introduced you to an equally nervous looking woman around her age standing right behind her. She was quite pretty, you thought as you looked at her; long dark hair and a scar over her face, kind eyes overlooking her features.

“This is Utahime,” Shoko said as she introduced you to her, “and Utahime, this is [name].”

You both awkwardly said that it’s nice to meet each other as you got settled on the sofa, Utahime brought out a couple of beers from a plastic bag as Shoko opted for a glass of wine instead.

“Any preference?” Utahime asked you, trying to be polite.

“Beer would be nice,” you accepted, not quite feeling the mood for heavier alcohol so soon.

She nodded accordingly in response as she cracked open two cans, seeming quite happy to share.

The conversation for the most part was carried initially by Shoko as you both carefully crossed the barrier in getting to know each other while you resisted the urge to spill too much of your trauma too soon, avoiding a repeat of the last time you spoke to new people.

When full comfort had been achieved, a mutual annoyance for Satoru emerged after a while of talking. Nothing too accusatory, but Utahime’s history with him seemed to paint him as a leading cause of her own stress while Shoko joked that he caused her smoking habit.

You didn’t really have a strong opinion on him just yet, but it was interesting to get to know him through the opinion of others. You wondered it with even Suguru before, thinking about the side he allowed you to get to know—thinking if Satoru was doing something similar to you.

Utahime and Shoko clinked their glasses and cans alike, announcing cheers for a peaceful evening and new company, because Shoko was right—you both did get along.

This newly formed comfort however was relatively short lived as soon as Satoru entered through the door, the celebration seeming to have been some type of summoning ritual for him instead.

“Hang on a sec,” Shoko said as she suddenly sat up, “how’d you get a key?”

She didn’t like that Satoru could just enter her apartment, choosing to come and go as he pleased. Her home was a sacred sanctuary for her own approved company and if he wanted to visit, he’d have to ask the same way as everyone else.

Utahime stared in mild disbelief, now wondering if she had managed to somehow hex herself as she stared bitterly off into her drink.

“Aww, don’t act that way~” Satoru purred as he continued to stroll inside, his hand arrogantly extending to reach out for someone to take hold of it, “we just need an extra person to get our usual table, otherwise they’ll just sit us at the smaller, worse table again.”

“Tough shit. I’m not abandoning Utahime to go be a table filler,” Shoko replied as she rolled her eyes, her hand playfully slapping his own away from her sight.

“I’m not going either,” Utahime replied.

“I-I can go otherwise?” you offered, presenting yourself as a sacrifice. You didn’t actually mind as it felt awkward enough already to third wheel between Shoko and her friend, since you could give them both a chance to catch up as you reconnected with the two people you already were familiar with.

“Don’t stoop to their level,” Shoko said, catching onto your wrist as you stood up, “let them suffer.”

“Ah, but she offered~” Satoru sang, tugging you away to the front door.

“I-It was nice to meet you, Utahime!” you called out as you quickly found yourself dragged outside into the stairwell, barely having time to grab onto your bag and shoes.

Suguru stood outside as he waited, his back leaning against the wall with a knee bent to balance himself.

Satoru walked down first as you followed, Suguru closing in from behind as he watched you go downstairs. In truth, this was his plan all along because he knew that Shoko would be occupied with Utahime and when Satoru showed up at his own place wanting to hang out, he knew that his friend was still burdened with clan responsibilities so he could still end his night with you—if he could help it.

He still felt some conflicting feelings about you getting closer to Satoru, which was exactly why he chose to hang out with him tonight in tow, wanting to keep tabs as to what you were up to at all times to make sure that nothing else blossomed beyond that kiss.

He did seem to understand though, that you didn’t think that the kiss itself was genuine so in his mind, what he was doing was closer to prevention; ensuring that Satoru didn’t try to talk you into doing anything else.

(While Suguru himself talked you into other things.)

You continued to walk in between the two of them to the bar, fully unaware at what festered away in the back of their minds. Suguru’s hand brushed on and off around your hips, guiding you a certain direction as you passed through thicker crowds. Satoru on the other hand occasionally would pull the two of you in as he walked and talked, sensing that you didn’t pull back as much anymore.

In reality, you were slightly buzzed from the maybe two cans of beer you had. They were tall cans and you didn’t quite care to push either of them away, leading them both to have the same type of curiosity invade their minds; could they go even further?

You settled off into the booth you got to know them both at on the night it had all began, sitting opposite with an empty spot beside you instead. Suguru ordered a bottle of sake for a change, pouring the three of you a glass each.

The topics of discussion were trivial for now, at least the ones that you could keep up with anyway. Things like your opinions on Utahime and the discussion of what Satoru was up to for the most part of the day occupied the conversation.

Then at some point during it all, Satoru got a phone call that he couldn’t avoid, zoning off into the distance as he talked himself through it.

“Just my luck,” Satoru sighed as he ended the call, “I’ll be seeing you both tomorrow.”

His tone sounded a little resigned but he tried to smile through the annoyance he harboured, refusing to sour the mood. He didn’t want to be constantly away, especially not during what was supposed to be his time off—but he wasn’t in a position to refuse his responsibilities either.

“Think they’ll bother you this much when work starts up again?” Suguru asked him.

“Probably not, no,” Satoru replied, “I’m probably being pestered so much because they know I have time to spare.”

“Must be difficult being so important,” Suguru teased him.

“You know me, the strongest and the most important,” he continued to joke even if his demeanour did continue to dampen.

When he left, the staff asked you both to downsize to a smaller table anyway to make room for the other customers as the establishment quickly filled out with more and more customers. Suguru didn’t really mind this development as he continued to top you up more, slowly drinking his own glass as you continued to finish off one glass after another, finding yourself a little bit too tipsy to think properly.

It was then that he moved just a little bit closer, playing the current situation into his hands with successful ease this time.

“You know, my place isn’t too far from here,” he spoke deliberately, allowing dangerous words playing off of his tongue in a tempting melody, “Shoko’s probably still busy with Utahime, probably best not to disturb ‘em,” he leaned a little forward as he spoke, “feel like relaxing at mine for a bit?”

You hesitated initially, wondering if by accepting that you were accepting something that you shouldn’t be. You didn’t want to lead him any more than you already had, either.

“I have my own room at Shoko’s you know, I can just wait it out there,” you replied, trying to establish a boundary right away.

“Yeah but, you wouldn’t want to impose right? Besides, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, [name],” he continued to say, coaxing you into his reach, “it would be just for a little while, we’d both sober up and I’ll even walk you back.”

“I mean…” you continued on as you started to slightly panic, your gut instinct telling you to pull away.

“I do this all the time with Shoko and Satoru,” Suguru continued to lie, knowing fully well that he doesn’t really allow anyone into his home, “I just think you need to relax a bit, that’s all.”

“B-but, doesn’t it seem weird if I go back with you while I’m this drunk?” you asked.

“Why would it be weird?” he asked, his voice hushed, as if he didn’t want to be heard by others.

“B-because, like, I don’t know-“

Suguru interrupted you as you spoke, trying his best to remain patient while he had you all alone, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. We don’t do anything bad, we’ll just watch a movie or something to wait it out.”

“B-but-“

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked you, seeming a little colder.

“I-I mean, I guess I do…” you considered it again, foolishly trusting him to not do anything just because he said that he wouldn’t, the alcohol clouding your judgement.

“Just to unwind, yeah?” he repeated himself, luring you in. “It’s not like I’m asking you to spend the night, right?”

“R-Right.”

Still, some type of danger lurked. You were agreeable right now, drunk and easily swayed. Some type of looming threat filled his all too promising tone, seeming almost deceitful.

Your own gut instinct was telling you to reject him a second time, a third time if you really had to do so—but you didn’t do a single thing.

Instead, in the peak of your inebriated judgement you chose to trust him because he was your friend and because he promised you something so simple and yet so major.

He wouldn’t hurt you.

At least not like that.

(Would he?)

~~~

The walk back with Suguru felt strangely quiet but it was relatively a short journey just as he had promised you. He kept your body steady as he walked you back to his home, keeping you from tripping over your own feet.

To some extent, he wondered if he should actually be taking it this far with you given that you couldn’t even walk straight—but he wouldn’t be forceful, he’d only go as far as you’d let him.

His place was probably the most central out of all of the places you had been so far, not counting Satoru’s place as you hadn’t yet been there.

Suguru continued to carefully handle you as he sat you down on his bed, his movements feeling all a little too personal and calculated. His hand drifted back to your thighs to test the waters of your own lacking sobriety as his other hand swooped in to meet around your waist.

“So, [name], I’m sorry but I gotta ask you something,” he spoke up after a short moment of silence, doing his best to continue to keep his tone as kind as possible, not wanting to scare you in any way, shape or form.

“Huh?” you replied, suddenly catching onto the idea that he might have wanted something from you, only just now registering that his hands were on you, too.

You were still trying to keep as soberly passing as you could be, but the strange mood and the new environment felt disorienting, even if you had already been in here before.

“You haven’t been with anyone, right?” he asked you as his eyes locked onto yours, the question he asked you seemed important to him for some reason. “You’ve not slept with anyone?”

Usually, he didn’t even care about this sort of thing—but something about you being being one was making him go crazy, in an almost possessive kind of way.

It felt wrong for him to admit it, but he felt entitled to you—not just for a quick fuck either, but something permanent.

He wanted you.

“Yes, but don’t laugh-“

“—I’m not asking to make fun of you.”

“Then why?”

He sighed as he looked back at you, wondering if it was best to just let you fall asleep or to take you back to your apartment and forget that this conversation almost ever happened.

But something told him to hold onto you, wanting to see just how far it could all go.

“I have a dilemma with you, that’s all it is,” he admitted, scooting a little towards you so that he sat closer. It was difficult for him to get the right words out as he had to find a reasonable way to explain that he didn’t want others to get close to you, to make you understand exactly what type of madness was going rampant through his head.

It was difficult to form something coherent that didn’t sound like he wanted to use you, because that wasn’t his intention at all.

“A dilemma?” you asked, your words slurring against your tongue.

“Don’t get with anyone else,” he asked you, the hold he had on your thigh seeming to tighten as he talked, his other hand pulling you closer as he dared tempt something he might regret, “it makes me unwell just thinking about it, I don’t even know why.”

Your words initially got caught in your throat as you failed to produce a response—even currently drunk, you understood what he was trying to imply.

And yet, not a single word could come out.

“Don’t hate me for saying it, but,” he sighed again, not letting you move let alone get away, “I want for you to allow me to…”

“No,” you finally choked out, not letting him finish off his sentence that he barely got to begin with. You understood what he wanted to ask you and you weren’t ready, even when this drunk, you knew that much.

Suguru stared at you as he took that rejection somehow in continued stride, fully well having anticipated that exact answer. He never once expected you to directly accept his offer, knowing that it would be insane for you to do so.

Instead, his plan was to actually ease you into it; to build up a gradual acceptance on your side, to get you close to him before anyone else could.

Dating was too slow—he wanted to get to you sooner, before you could catch onto what’s going on, before you could simply just leave.

It was wrong for him to do so, he knew it, but his own desire was overwhelming his sense of reason and he had to do it, or else he’d actually do something he regretted.

So to him, this was a more diluted path.

“Look, I’m the only one who really gets you, right? I’m the only one who can look out for you properly,” he continued to say, “and I’m the only one who would stick around with you after, [name], because let me make one thing abundantly clear—this world is cruel.”

You continued to zone out as he spewed out words he thought you were genuinely considering when the reality was that you were trying to keep yourself from passing out in his company.

You knew exactly where he was going with this, you weren’t that unaware and oblivious, his intentions were apparent from the very moment he put his hands on you in the car but you weren’t still entirely sure how he went from ignoring your texts from days on end, to wanting to get in bed with you.

Something must have happened last night, otherwise why else did he know to ask you certain things?

“I’m just saying, [name],” he said as he pinched your chin, making you face him directly, “Satoru got a taste, but he didn’t appreciate you, did he?”

“I-I mean n-no, but-“

“—did he make you feel anything?”

“He never meant to.”

“But don’t you want to feel something, anyway?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Because, I want you to feel things.”

He didn’t give you a whole lot to work with, nor any time to think for yourself as this conversation continued back and forth. His body continued to otherwise slowly towards you the same way, regardless of what you said, his lips seeking yours out as you moved back in retaliated discomfort.

Suguru continued to play the part of someone who appeared reasonable, nodding and pulling back to respect your decision. He was going to get to you either way, so your rejection didn’t hurt him because as long as he got with you before Satoru did, then he will have won.

He reconsidered his options as an almost unhinged expression manifested on his face, tightening his hold on your body as he surrendered to a flow of worrying ideas.

You internally panicked as this all unfolded, doing your best to perhaps foolishly hold onto his friendship while also pushing back on his advances, entering a point in your own psyche where you had no idea what you truly wanted either.

Certain words stuck, like Satoru stealing your first kiss and the fact that you felt nothing from it. Shoko got the title of your first real friend and Suguru sported the title of your first date, even if it was platonic. To circle back to Satoru, he had the honour of being the first guy you introduced to your parents; so no wonder it all seemed so confusing if he even liked you at all.

Your friends were out here taking away all of your firsts that were meant to be special moments shared with someone you could trust, instead being snatched away by this strange new group of people at every whim.

The lack of it all being genuine except for the friendship was starting to eat away at you, realising that such rapid progression was beginning to hurt you in a way you didn’t truly understand.

But… you were still left unsure.

Was he making such a big deal out of this because he actually cared—or did he simply want to play you, to get into your pants?

As you continued to hold off on his advances, he finally let you go of you to find your own way, intending to just vent to you instead. You’d listen to him whether you wanted to or not, so he took advantage of that opportunity as it happened.

“I’m just feeling some kind of way, [name],” he said, surrendering a chunk of his feelings.

He continued to stare at you, feeling a little guilty as he continued to do so—this damn feeling just wasn’t going away.

“I think I like you and I don’t want to share, that’s all.”

“I-I can kind of get it, I think,” you finally said after a while, giving him an opening of sorts if only by complete accident, “but,” you were to still quick to stifle, “I don’t want to do anything I might regret and that includes with you, too.”

He nodded as you spoke, completely understanding the exact sort of direction to take with you now much to your unassuming dismay; you were simply shy in his eyes, inexperienced and not quite used to this sort of thing and he could work with that—to make you his before anyone else could even have such a chance.

He wanted to stick around, to give into those strange and confusing feelings that have otherwise been eating him alive for the last couple of weeks.

“So, how about we start off slow?” Suguru suggested, moving into closing off the gap with you once again, “I don’t want you to regret a single thing with me.”

“I-I still don’t really know-“ you considered, not quite saying no directly. He wasn’t backing off even if he did drop the subject concerning your virginity, being pushy in a whole other sort of way.

“Don’t you like me too?” Sugur asked you, trying to find something that might not have been there.

“I-I do, but you know, as a frie-“

He cut you off again, not letting you finish that sentence, “Don’t say it. We’ve got something going on that’s better than just being friends.”

“W-we do?” you slurred a little.

“Can’t you feel it too?” he asked, leaning closer again.

“I mean, I don’t know, this is all too sudden for me and I don’t even know you that well,” you admitted, trying not to give into the pressure, you didn’t want to be something temporary or casual to someone you were trying to just be friends with.

“Then get to know me,” he whispered, “nobody else will appreciate you like I do.”

By then, you felt the booze hit your body a bit harder too now that it has had time to simmer; suddenly you couldn’t quite sit still, let alone agree or disagree.

He leaned into your lips without any protest on your end, despite your lacking consent to continue onwards; the smell of stale cigarettes exhaled into your mouth as he finally connected this kiss. His tongue pushing itself into your mouth, wrestling it with your own—your own muscle reluctantly following suit, despite not really knowing exactly what to do.

Your vision blurred as you barely kept up; you never did express consent nor give him the green light to continue, but every time you considered speaking up, your words would either slur or they never made it out of your mouth to begin with.

“Relax, you can keep your mouth still if it’s easier for you,” he said as he pulled back, his dark eyes intently focusing on you, “I’ll lead the way.”

Once again, he didn’t give you an opportunity to reply as he quickly resumed his pursuit of you; his mouth reconnecting with yours as his breath so hot and heavy rippled waves down your chin—his tongue flickering against the tip of your own as it fought back involuntarily, trying to move it away.

You felt as his hand then crept towards your own, grabbing onto the back of it as he slowly guided you into his trousers; straight past the waistband and slipping into an even deeper layer so that you could feel his, his—oh—were you feeling his—?

You froze as you now had a burning compulsion to pull away but your head pushed up against his face as his free hand held your skull in place—fingers weaving between interlocked strands of your hair, bringing you forward and tugging at your lips with his teeth, keeping you tethered to him.

Using the hand that held your own hostage, he moved you in so that your hand filled out with the length of his meat; your fingers wrapping around it as he then moved your hand up and down in a particular motion, encouraging you to keep up.

Maybe this was more than just taking it slow—but fuck, he was so turned on.

“Can you keep that going for me?” he asked, his voice sounding dangerously playful as he clearly was enjoying this moment.

You couldn’t vocally protest in the meantime nor shake or nod as he kept you subdued in a specific sort of state, so you kept it up either way because you were too overwhelmed to break away.

Not that he would allow for you to do so either way.

This was too good for him—he felt too good, so fucking good and he hadn’t even gone all the way yet. He wouldn’t yet. He knew now that he should savour this, to build it up.

He pulled further back from the kiss as your saliva trailed over your chin, webbing between his own—curious to see exactly how you were doing, realising that you might be struggling to keep up as someone with virtually zero experience with this sort of thing, while also wanting to get you used to this sort of state.

You continued to get into it and kept up to his requested pace along his shaft as he finally moved the hand that otherwise kept you glued to him to slip in between your legs, finally getting just a little further. He moved in smoothly, his hands brushing up the skirt and pushing past your underwear—his fingertips finally exploring the slick wetness you kept so well hidden.

To his amusement, he could see just how turned you actually were based on how soaked you were as well as the blush that formed on your face, even if your expression was a little unreadable.

In reality, you were equal parts confused and rosy red from the liquor settling in your system, keeping up but just barely.

You knew that this was wrong, that he never even asked you if this was okay to do, but you’ve also been so confused in this past couple of weeks.

You didn’t know what you were feeling.

“You’re doing so well, [name],” Suguru continued to purr into your ear, “wanna let me help you feel good too?”

“U-um,” you managed to reply, although still not using proper words.

“Trust me, I just want you to enjoy yourself,” he tried to reassure.

There it was; that confusing feeling again. You felt cornered as you considered accepting his quickly approaching advances, even given the position you were locked into. His hand rested near you, delicately parting you using his fingers—his touch was pleasant and warm and he wasn’t hurting you at all, but it still felt so terribly fucking wrong.

So, when he continued to once again move in despite not getting a verbal confirmation, he wrongfully read into your lacking say in the matter as a green light, thinking that because you weren’t screaming no or for him to stop despite your body language gesturing at something different was simply because you were shy.

Oh no, he didn’t even think to consider that you were simply too drunk to comprehend a single thing to begin with.

His fingers continued to slide into your heat, pushing over the opening and searching for something else in particular; your clit from what it felt like, focusing his efforts on there as his fingertips started to trace circles right around it.

Suguru enjoyed watching your reactions, his dark eyes finding light in your expressions and reactions—your own thighs quivering from his touch, trembling as you approached your limit.

He of course wanted to push you even further, wanting nothing more than to see you be needy and to moan his name; to beg him to let him fuck you, but he couldn’t be too greedy, at least not yet.

He’d slowly break you in, convinced that there was something about the chemistry that you both shared; feeling certain that there was absolutely something there, even if you couldn’t quite see it just yet.

So as he continued to gently swirl around your budded flesh and as your breathing quickly grew shallow; cheeks bruising cherry red, your insides coiling from his pressing touch—he too, got sent over the edge just from the sight of you alone.

At the same time though, that invading thought relented, daring him to go just a little further despite you not being ready; wanting nothing more than to taste your neck, to nip on your skin and petal behind lovebites, to push himself deep inside of you and feel just how soaked you were—but, but… he had to refrain, to hold himself back, at least for now, remembering that he didn’t want for you to regret him, so he finally pulled back from you.

His breath shuddered as you finished up on him, his face tightening as he clenched his jaw, eyelids fluttering as he started to finish, remembering to complete the same for you.

You squeezed your legs tight as you enveloped his hand, a rising need to finally seek out release; his circling motions finally coaxing out rolling pleasure as waves of warmth coursed through your body, a reaction that caused you to almost whimper breathlessly.

He pulled you closer as you finished, practically leaning into a hug against your body; his face rubbing against your own as he feverishly kissed you, his hand guiding yours as he finally got closer and closer to—but not yet, closer—to—

“Go a bit faster he breathed into your mouth, demanding release, “be a good girl for me—please, fuck.”

You listened to him as you accelerated the tempo against his dick; feeling a little more at ease from his continued flow of praise and encouragement until you felt his cock twitch, his breath hitch and finally empty himself at the mercy of your hand. Hot white ropes shooting without aim, causing a mess for you both.

He breathed in deep to recollect himself, still leaning against you before finally peeling himself away from you, allowing you to take back your hand and to find your ground again.

Guilt however then started to surface as he saw just how drunk you still were, leading him to finally seek out his own senses as he paused in his own tracks, leading you carefully to the bathroom before getting you cleaned up before returning back into bed with him.

There wasn’t a single chance in hell that you were going back home, even if he were to walk you all the way back and tucked you into bed himself.

He didn’t want a single person to be near you currently, not even Shoko and he trusted her.

So as you fell asleep beside him, your side occupying the usually vacant space against his chest, he felt a new sort of emotion plant itself and bloom, knowing that you were both in trouble if he continued to keep this up, just like that realisation many weeks ago.

Knowing fully well that he still wasn’t going to stop.

Not at all.

[afrowrites]

Norman F Rockwell

Black reader (plus size too!) x Homelander

Your a hardworking widow and single mother who works at vought in the graphics department, when a certain all American hero is intrigued by the sight of you, or maybe the scent of you...

Warnings: Stalking, Mentions of Death.

Wordcount: 1,891

Rating: Teen and up

A woman stands alone with her ten-year-old son weeping next to her, her stomach holds the last legacy of her husband. And as they lower him into the ground a rifle can be heard to signify a fallen soldier. And a single tear runs down the woman's face knowing she must stay strong.

“~[Your name]~, did you get the final layout for the Homeboy Kids’ book yet?” She asked as she turned towards her coworker's voice, “Oh yeah, I got them, they look pretty good with all things considered.” 

The woman smiled, proud of her co-workers' adherence to her notes.

“Well, that's good, because you have to present them to Ashley today.” The woman said, dropping a bomb and slipping out of her office.

“Wait, I have to do what?!” You half shout.

You frantically search your emails trying to figure out why today you had to present in less than… 

“Oh shit! I gotta do this in an hour!” 

You were wearing your comfiest business casual clothes but were not ready to entertain your boss today, and the email mentioned that others would be attending. ‘Probably those weirdo's in marketing.’  You thought to yourself. 

You stumble down the hallway towards Ashley's office, holding your layout tubes while trying to zip up the back of your skirt. Thank God you had an emergency “I didn't just have a baby” outfit and some heels. 

You fluff your afro up, put on some lipgloss, take a deep breath and open the door to walk into Ashley’s office.

You could see Ashley's permanent furrowed brow shift into a fake plastered smile she gave to all her employees when trying to save face.

“Good afternoon, miss {Your Name}. Have a seat, please”

“Sure” you answer, feeling a bit awkward.

Seth and Evan are engaged in a calm conversation, tucked away in the secluded corner of the room. Meanwhile, you're absorbed in organizing your layouts, your back to the entrance, when the sharp sound of a door swinging wide pierces the silence. Out of the periphery of your vision, you notice the room's occupants abruptly rise to their feet in a unified, almost military precision.

"Uh, Homelander, welcome," she greets with a strained smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, her voice tinged with a detectable quiver betraying her anxiety. Indeed, the atmosphere has shifted palpably; a heavy cloak of tension settles over the room, making the air itself seem laden with foreboding.

“Ashley,” he notes her presence. Uninterested. 

“ Hey Seth, Evan, good to see you.” Now a hint of sarcastic enthusiasm sets in his voice.

He sets down into his chair, and as he sits he turns his head to you. He sniffs the air realizing something. Even before you'd know, he finds you leaking, and suddenly his interest in you increases tenfold and with a sudden interest in you he introduces himself.

“Why hello there,” his devilish grin and piercing blue eyes startle you, “you know it's a shame I never get to meet all the wonderful people here working at Vought, what's your name Ms…?”

“Rodriguez, although people just call me [your name].” You smile professionally. 

“Well Ms.Rodriguez,” he takes your hand in his, brushing your soft knuckles before planting a kiss on them. “I do hope to enjoy your presentation.” As he gave you a soft wink. 

You find his introduction performative but also slightly genuine.

The marketing guys gave their little spiel on how to market the homelander’s son, Ryan. 

You soon make a suggestion. “I believe that would go well with young adult males, but we aren't thinking of the bigger picture here. We know how Homelander is when it comes to women.” 

You see his jaw tighten, so you tread lightly when you continue.

“We’ve already seen the comic books, so how about we take a look at something more child-like for mothers, show the soft story about Homelander becoming a father raising a child all on his own, raising him to be a good American hero.” 

The market guys roll their eyes and scoff in protest, but before they can open their mouths you hear clapping.

“Wow that’s… well that's good,” To you he sounds almost genuine but his mind is still working on you. You breathe a sigh of relief at his approval. 

You mutter off a “thank you, sir.” And scurry back to your seat.

After muttering a quick, “Thank you, Sir.”, you scurry back to your seat.

“Well I think this has been a great meeting, thank you all for being here. I-” 

Homelander interrupts, “Ms.Rodriguez may I have a moment to ask you something?.” 

Stunned, you respond, “Oh-uh sure,” you give him a weak smile. 

“Great,” he grins a menacing grin. “Let's take a walk.”

It's quiet for the first few minutes, almost bone-chilling . He clears his throat to break the silence.

“So, Rodriguez. What do you do here?” He asks in a way that sounds like he's interested but also way too critical. 

“Well sir, I work in graphics and art, but I do most kid's artwork and stuff.” You chuckle nervously.

He nods at your answer, and he continues, “Well I think that is just super!” He still smells your body producing his favorite thing (well maybe second favorite thing). 

He continues the walk in silence until you guys reach your office, he scans around the room trying to find ways to see you more often. Until he sees, “Oh, you have a family,” you turn the picture towards him.

“Oh yeah, my babies,” you sigh at missing them. “Rafael and America.”

“Wow, what a name for such a cute baby,” he feigns interest because as stated before he's only interested in what's under your skirt.

“Yeah, their father named them.” You feel a sharp twist in your heart when mentioning your husband's name, Homelander sees this and with his well-learned acting exclaims, “Whatever he did to you I'll get him.” He places a hand on your shoulder as he jokes with you.

You look up at him with teary eyes before wiping them away. “Oh no it’s not that my husbands not with us anymore.” 

He feels indifferent to your plight, yet he pulls you in for a comforting hug. He smells like warm spices but underneath he smells metallic almost of blood. It’s unnerving.

He releases you from his grip, only to take a long look down and clear his throat. 

“Hmmm I think you might wanna…,” You look down horrified. You're leaking.

Standing at your threshold, the rich oakwood panels seem to reach out, inviting you into the warm embrace of home. Before your hand can grace the knocker, your mother-in-law materializes, her eyes alight with the joy of your arrival. "Hola mami!" Your greeting is tinged with fatigue, yet her presence ushers in comfort. "Hola, {insert Spanish nickname}, how was your day?" Her inquiry is simple, yet it's the undercurrent of genuine concern that touches you. "Well, Mami, to be honest, it was a bit perplexing..." you admit, the words trailing off as you grapple with the day's events.

Your exchange is gently fractured by the delightful pattern of small feet drumming against the floor, a familiar and heartwarming cadence. It's a sound that signals the arrival of one of the most precious joys in your life, a guiding light that brightens even your darkest days. The architect of your daily smiles, your cherished child, the ever-sweet Rafi, bounds toward you. This tiny being, the center of your universe, radiates unadulterated happiness, infusing your mornings with meaning and your heart with boundless love.

"Hey, Mamacita!," He says, 

"Hey there, Papito" you greet, the corners of your mouth turning up in a weary but warm smile. "You're not gonna guess who I bumped into today!"

His eyes sparkle with curiosity. "Who was it?"

"The one and only, most amazing superhero of all time!"

Glancing down, you notice he's clutching his beloved Homelander action figure, its edges frayed and colors faded from love and time. It was a gift from his dad. The sight fills you with a bittersweet mix of joy and a pang of sorrow, knowing the layers of memories it holds.

Sighing, you reply, “Well I met the one and only…”, pause for dramatic effect, “HOMELANDER!”  You see his gorgeous little eyes light up, you love to see your little guy happy. He jumps around the house as his grandma yells at him.

 “Papito! You're gonna wake the…,” she’s already too late. And as your second little bundle of joy starts to cry, your mother-in-law is about to get the spoon on Rafi, “Don’t worry mami, it’s fine I wanted to see my baby anyway.”  You smile at her as you trudge towards your baby's room. “Hey Meri, how’s my girl doing?” You coo at her. She has your husband’s beautiful green eyes, gorgeous fluffy curls and chubby cheeks. You hold her close to you, your heartbeat calms her down. You sit for a while ignoring the noise from the street corner thinking of when her father took you to New Mexico, 

(~Flashback~)

The evening air is warm and the breeze carries the simple romance of the night through the air. He cradles you in his soft loving arms as the stars pale in comparison to the sparkle of his eyes peering into your own.

“Y’know (y/n), I was just thinking,” “Oh that’s never good.” You snicker to yourself.

“Hey, that hurts.” He pretends to get shot in the chest. “Whatever,” You roll your eyes 

“Well, what I was going to say was, what if we get married…” He sheepishly says that last part.

“Um well, to be honest, I want to, after all, little Rafi-,” He interrupts. “Or Meri, I plan on having ten beautiful girls, well eleven because of you.’

You laugh a hearty laugh. “Yeah right, let’s just focus on the first one, but yeah I wanna be married.”

“Okay great because I have this ring in a box and I didn’t know who I was gonna give it to.” He yawns sarcastically. 

You wide-eyed stare at him for a little, until it sinks in. You sit up and push his shoulders to the ground. “Oh my God!” You kiss his face all over.

“Hey mami, watch the baby. They ain’t finished yet.” He chuckles “I love you, baby.” he smiles with his gorgeous lips. 

“I love you too, papito.” You lean in for a kiss all while smiling into his lips.  And while you once again fall in love, your favorite song plays.

~Como la flor, Con tanto amor, Me Diste tu~

“Se Marchitó, Me marcho hoy,” You sing to the bittersweet words of Selena, “ Yo sé perder, Pero a-a-ay, cómo me duele, A-a-ay, cómo me duele.” 

The smells of your cooking penetrate the room and seep out of your window into the cold air of a New York night, the warmth and love from your kitchen emanating from your apartment.

Unfortunately for you, a certain pair of eyes enjoyed your little performance, and the ethnic food smelled to him albeit too much spice for his taste, he could still feel a distant mother’s love through those smells.

And when you decided to close the window, he took that as a challenge to get into your life and ruin it. 

[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Days

Joel Miller x Reader series, Chapter 1, Move in day

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You officially move from oregan to texas and get to meet your very new & handsome neighbor, Joel

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

Some thing's you need to know before reading: this is a series, not a one shot collection! you (the reader) already have a semi premade backstory. first off, you're originally from oregon. you studied at med school and got a job offer in texas to become a doctor, which you took. you are 23 in this but if you don't like that, imagine any age (18+) and i did make joel younger 26 (until the 20 year time jump, he'll be 46) but he does still have sarah, just pretend it's not wonky LMAO! one more thing, ya have a dog in this fic, he's a boy but imagine any breed you'd like! aside from that, this is tlou game version but i included some sides from the show! a couple more things: 1. all characters from tlou1/2 will be mentioned/featured. 2. this takes place before outbreak, then eventually outbreak day, then eventually in the apocalypse. 3. this is a slow burn romance (drabbles of it in each chapter though, esp when it progresses) and does feature a decent amount of smut. 4. JOEL NEVER DIES!!!

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you matched the beat of the song playing on your cars radio. It was a song by Blake Shelton. You weren't a huge fan of him but he had some classics. It has been such a long day for you. You've been driving for the past two hours, not a single break in between. You just wanted to get to your new home as soon as you could. You could tell your dog, Becker, needed to go potty as well. He'd just have to hold out.

The GPS on your phone stated you were only about ten minutes away. The center of Austin TX was busy as all hell, so that time span could get longer by the second. So many cars & people flooded the streets. "God dammit." You mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes as you seen all the upcoming traffic ahead. This was going to be a long night. You had no clue when you'd even be able to get into bed. Then again, it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, almost evening.

Behind you, in the backseat, you could hear Becker whimpering & whining. "Don't worry boy, we're almost home, just a little bit longer." You cooed to him, reaching your right hand back and allowing him to lick you. You got Becker as a graduation gift a few weeks ago. You two have bonded ever since. You were never a cat person, dog's were more of your style. "You'll be able to go potty soon." You said to him, pulling your hand back up and holding onto the wheel.

Traffic wasn't going as slow as you intended, was traffic always going to be like this though? This ain't going to be pleasant if so. Especially working for the hospital. Imagine an emergency happens and you're needed but the roads are packed, that's going to be one helluva time. But, you wanna think positively. You missed your family too. It's going to be hard without them, especially your mom. She is your number one supporter and without her in the same home as you, it'll be a large change.

You turned the radio up, hearing the country music blast throughout your car but not loud enough to scare your dog. Dogs ears are sensitive and you didn't wanna bother him further than he already was. No doggo wants to be stuck in a car all day, especially in this heat. Despite it being early September, it was still quite warm out. That's another big change from Oregon, you imagine that back home, it's either really windy or heavily raining. The change could be nice though.

The sound of Becker panting was clear as day, it only made you feel more guilty. "Hold on baby." You muttered to him before you then rolled your window down and the window directly behind you, not a lot though, you didn't want him to jump out or something. Through your rearview mirror, you could see his slobbery tounge blowing in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. "Hah, good boy!" You giggled, turning left onto the exit, finally getting off of this miserable highway.

Finally, the road wasn't full anymore. It was a downtown rural area now, cars slowly made their way through the town. Austin is busy, yes, but this side of it, not so much. The only logical reason it was super busy on the highway and earlier roads was because people are getting/going to work. Your first day at the hospital is on Monday. You were nervous but in a great way. You have been non stop thinking about it. All of the work you've put in and you're officially where you wanted to be. Life was going good... For once...

You passed by all sorts of different places. Gas stations, fast food chains, locally owned stores & stands, it felt so honey. Back in Oregon, you lived in the center of the city, it was always so lively and never calm. Austin is like that too but not as bad, and definitely not as bad as Dallas is. You were grateful you didn't end up moving there or even somewhere that was worse. Austin was a good enough fit for you.

The GPS showed you were only a minute or two away from home, your heart was racing a bit. You've never been on your own before and you least expected it to be in a completely different state. Luckily, a week from now, you'll be going back home for the weekend. It'll be comforting. You'll definitely make sure to call your family everyday, you made sure they knew that too. They'd have to simply put up with it.

You could tell you were getting closer due to the change in scenery. There weren't any establishments around these parts, just either compact or extensive suburban homes. You actually used to make fun of those perfect American families who lived in these types of areas but look at you now. Back home, you lived in a small house, only two bedrooms but you were an only child so it was never a problem. You did wish for siblings growing up but you understand now that if you had some, things would be a whole lot different.

As you turned left, the tracker built into your phone made a dinging noise, indicating you had arrived at your destination. It wasn't wrong. Just to the left, you could see your newly purchased home. It made your heart skip a beat. Not only were you nervous but you were also so happy. You glimmered as you pulled right into the driveway and set your car in park. You could tell Becker knew this was your guy's new home, his whimpers weren't ones of boredness but rather excitement. "One second." You sighed out before getting out of the car.

Stepping out of your car, you sighed softly as you breathed in the fresh air. The smell of outside was always so welcoming. You grabbed your purse out of your car too and swung it across your shoulder. It was a brown leather purse with an embroidered strap. You then opened up the backseat so Becker could jump on out. "Stay over here buddy." You chuckled out, scratching the top of his head a few times before closing both doors. You had quite a bit of stuff in your trunk & backseat but you hired a truck to drive all of your other belongings here. It wouldn't be there for another day or so.

Becker ran off to the side of the house to go potty ; You trusted him enough to not run off. He was a good dog. You went to the back of your car and popped open your trunk. It was a mess but everything you needed for the night was in there. You even bought an air mattress, your back would die trying to sleep on a wooden floor. You grabbed the first two boxes, they weren't very big, and set them on the concrete of your driveway. They just had toiletries in them.

You grabbed out another box, this one was a bit bigger than the other two. It had all of your kitchen appliances in it. You were excited to cook your very first dinner in your very own home. You already decided on making Pesto Pasta, one of your favorites. In your trunk, there was the air mattress box. It wasn't going to be the best way to sleep but it'd have to suffice for the night, your proper bed should be in either tomorrow or on Sunday.

Whilst grabbing out the air mattress, you heard the sound of a truck driving past and pulling into the driveway across from you. They must've been your neighbors. Your neighbors back home weren't the nicest. There were the Johnson's so were beyond uppity and thought they were better than everyone else, they lived beside you. Then there was Cassandra and Cody, they were your age and pretty kind except they were literal kleptos.

You ignored the truck behind you, just trying to get everything you needed for the night. You could hear Becker barking but you didn't know what it was he was doing it at. You figured a wild animal, maybe a bunny or a stray. Becker was actually from a shelter, you'd never buy an animal from PetSmart or whatever. "Becker, quit your barking!" You shouted at him, nudging him to come over to you. Maybe he wasn't good with new environments.

You placed the last cardboard box from your trunk on top of another one, shooting your eyes to look at Becker. He was looking at the truck across the street, barking at it. "Oh boy, quit it." You spoke out to him but he didn't listen. You went to grab onto his collar but right as you did, he bolted off into their driveway. He was a friendly dog, you didn't think he'd do anything bad, he was just inquisitive, but it was still bad of him to run off like that.

"Becker!" You yelled, jogging across the street to grab him. You watched as two men got out of the black truck. The one in the driver's seat had a mullet and lighter hair than the other man, he also seemed shorter. The other one though had short dark hair, although you couldn't tell if it was purely brown or black. He was well built, along with the other man. Were they brothers? That's the only assumption that came to mind.

Once you reached their driveway, you grabbed Becker and pulled him back to you. The man getting out of the passenger seat looked back at you and had a puzzled look before letting out a chuckle beneath his breath. "Listen, I'm so sorry, he's just curious." You sighed out. Becker was now listening as he sat down right by your feet. "Sorry, we'll be out of your hair." You giggled, beginning to turn around before you heard the man's voice speak up.

"You just move in across the street?" He asked you, his voice sounded southern and it was very deep. "Oh uhm, yeah, just got here tonight actually." You said kindly, looking back at him again. "Well, welcome then, and to your dog." He snickered out. "I'm Joel, this is Tommy." Joel spoke deeply, pointing over at the other man. You let the two men know your name before asking them whether or not they were brothers, and they were. You weren't surprised, they did share similar facial features.

"Where are you from?" Joel raised, his arms crossed. His arms were huge, he definitely has a nice body. "I'm from Oregon." You said softly, placing your slender hands onto your waist. "Damn, that's a long ways out. What made you move all the way here?" "Got a job offer at the hospital." You said with a titter, his accent was thick. "Oh, you a nurse or something?" He questioned, leaning up against his truck. "No, a doctor. Recently gradated from medschool." You explained, glancing over at his brother as he walked into the house. Maybe they lived together.

"Well how bout that? I'm just a contractor." "That's nice." You added, tucking strands of your thin hair behind your ear. "Yeah, yeah, well I'll let you continue settling in. If you need any help with uh larger furniture, me and my brother can stop by, we helped the Adler's when they first moved in." Joel said with a deep voice, pointing his index to the home beside his. "That would be great, thanks, luckily I don't have to deal with the bullshit of larger furniture today, it'll be in either tomorrow or Sunday."

"Alrighty, well, you have yourself a good evening. See you." Joel said with a sly smirk, slowly inching backwards. "You too, Joel." You gave him a slight smile before patting Becker to follow behind you. You made your way across the street, allowing Becker to run around in his new yard. You took a gander back and seen Joel looked back at you before entering his home. When you saw his eyes on you, you felt a deep pit in your stomach. Nothing bad, rather just glee or something. You couldn't pin it.

Around your neck was a lanyard, it had the key to your home, you assumed it was locked. At least you hoped, you don't want any squatters inside. You unlocked the white door and opened it, stepping inside of it. The sunset beamed in through the windows throughout the house. It was still dark though, every single light was switched on. The seller said you'd have to go to the basement to switch them all on. That sounded like a fun time!

One by one, you dragged each box into the home, keeping some on the floor and placing some on the island counter. You didn't plan on unpacking any of it tonight, you were restless and just wanted to lay down for the night, despite it only being 5 PM. The more sleep you get, the easier it'll be tomorrow. You definitely had to get a lot of sleep Sunday considering on Monday, you start your first day. Even though it's just training, you wanna be as awake as possible.

You ambled towards the front door again and away from the kitchen to call Becker in. He'd have to deal with the floor for the night. He is a cuddly dog, he loves big comfy areas but without a bed or a couch, there's no way. "Becker!" You said with a rowdy voice, "C'mon baby." He came running over to you and past your legs, going into the house and treading around like a mad man. "Oh good boy." You chuckled, petting him gently.

You walked back over to the kitchen and grabbed the air mattress, you needed to get it open and blown up. It was sealed to a T, your nails were definitely not enough to get it open. Striding towards the appliances box, you opened it up and searched through it, taking out a knife to slice it open. You are quite clumsy so you were praying you wouldn't stab the mattress on accident. It didn't help that Becker felt the need to push himself up against you, seeking attention & love as if he's starved from it.

"Back off boy." You snorted, pulling the mattress out of it's box. It was all wrinkled up and looked compact. Although it was the size of a Full. You straightened it out on the living room floor, you didn't feel like carrying it all the way up the stairs. It came with a machine to blow it up and you connected it to the black cylinder hole, turning it on and hearing the loud blowing noise it was making. You didn't have any pillows, they were all packed up in that truck but luckily, you had a blanket, it was the one you let Becker use in the backseat when you were driving.

"You stay here mister." You stated out to Becker before beginning to make your way out of the front door to take the blanket out from the car. As you went outside, you noticed a bright light was on in Joel's house, just in one room though. You could also see the shadow of a smaller person's body walking through said room. Did he have a girlfriend? Or did Tommy have one? Maybe it was Tommy's. You convinced yourself of that at least.

After grabbing the blanket, you walked back inside and seen Becker already making himself a spot on the bed, despite it barley being inflated. "You little shit." You grinned, tossing the fuzzy blanket on top of him. Guess you were going to have to share.

The bed was officially ready to be slept on, you haven't been this excited to sleep in a very long time. Back home, you dreaded it. You would stay up all night, doing different stuff. Whether it was studying, painting, reading, working out, etc.. You were always doing something new. With Becker, it's been better. You're an affectionate person and he is as a dog. It may be a rough night, it always is sleeping somewhere new, but with him it may be easier.

Pulling the machine away from the bed, you turned it off and climbed underneath the blanket, feeling immediate warmth. The Texas heat also played a part in that. Back in Oregon, you had a heater beside your bed to help, you definitely didn't need one here. "Alright." You whispered to yourself, Becker lying right beside your feet, his fur was cozy. You were originally going to turn the lights on to your home but honestly, you were scared to go down there all alone, a pitch black basement? No thanks.

Trying to sleep in a new area was hard. You felt homesick. You miss your old room, the house noises, the feeling of it. You lived there your entire life, now you're thousands of miles away. Becker probably felt that way too, especially with how he connected with your father, they bonded. A week from now though, you'd be able to see them. It'd be easier. Another thing you couldn't stop thinking about was that man - Joel.

He seemed so different. He was kind & understanding, and that's just simply based on the short conversation the two of you had together. He was so willing to help you out, no one else was like that. It was a sweet welcoming. He was also very handsome. All the men back home weren't like that. That glimmer in his eyes wasn't something to ignore. It was the way he gazed at you that had you wrapped around the thought of him.

That brother of his was good looking too, definitely not as much, but either way. Were they both contractors? It appeared as though they had just left work so maybe they work together. And who was that smaller person walking throughout his house earlier? Had to be a girlfriend. A daughter? No way, the two of them looked to young to even have children. There was still a chance though, teen pregnancies aren't uncommon. You presume you'll deal with a lot of them as a Doctor.

Your eyes felt more & more heavy. Becker's deep breathing made you weary too. The pitch blackness of the room was helpful ; White sound would've been helpful too. Sleeping in complete silence was torture. All you could really hear was your dog and your own breathing. You were completely spent for the day. And you were ready to hit the hay.

Divider Creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[konigenblobbity]

Request: Emergency Contact

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Military!Reader (Callsign Viper)

Warnings: Angst, mention of severe injury, mention of car accident, slow burn

Request: [@lovestruckaphrodite] (this request is based on a Pierce the Vail song, but I suck at writing and i trust your words). y/n and ghost became roommates after meeting somewhere. They moved in together after something happened in y/ns life that made them either get kicked out of their house/had to leave their house so they become roommates. they weren't really close with one another regarding their jobs, but knew that both of them were in the military, just not in the same task force. then one day, Ghost gets a call in the middle of a meeting from an unknown number, but a familiar area code (the one y/n and he lived in) so he answers, and y/n was injured and had to get emergency surgery, and y/n put him as the emergency contact

A/n: this took a WHILE! But I hope you like it! Also I used the term dove - wanting it to be GN :). This work is also HIGHLY inspired to this work by @mockerycrow! If you like this please go show them some love!

Every Tuesday afternoon you spent in the same place doing the same thing. Sitting in your corner seat in your favorite cafe waiting for your drink. In fact many of the locals loved to visit this exact cafe, so you often saw the same people walk in and out of the doors. Not really caring, often reading a book or on your phone.

Its then that he walks in, you can tell by his heavy footsteps and his soft sigh as he takes his usual seat in the cafe - preferring the one closer to the window one table from you. You try not to be obvious with your gaze, watching through your lashes as he adjusts his sleeves and then places both his hands in his lap, fingers interlocked before pulling out his phone.

Ever since you started seeing him in this cafe a few months ago, you were infatuated with him. His blonde hair which he appeared to bleach himself, his signature black face mask paired with a skull patterned mask that covered up the bottom half of his face along with most of his neck, his tattoo sleeve that you only got a glimpse of on the hotter days he wore a t-shirt.

What was fascinating is how’d you see him at other places too… at your local grocery store, bank, park, even the bookstore. After a while you came to the conclusion that you had to live in the same area, or that he was simply a ghost haunting you and following you everywhere. With how much you saw him, you began to notice more about him…

Others didn’t dare look at him, let alone sit near him. His whole demeanor radiated authority and power. However rather than feeling threatened, you felt intrigued. Matter of fact… he reminded you of a lieutenant you heard rumors of around your task force. A ruthless and highly trained individual, who wore a similar skull balaclava paired with a skull mask. What a coincidence.

Finally your eyes land back on your book, not wanting him to spot you burning a hole into him with your gaze. Luckily that now gave him his opportunity to do the same, leaning back just enough to glance over the top of his phone and at you without making it obvious he was staring.

He recognized you, remembers seeing you last week at the grocery store and before that having seen you at the library. Wherever he was in the area, his eyes always managed to find you; turning a corner and hearing your familiar hum of a song, spotting your through the windows of restaurants with a friend, even walking through the doors of a store and seeing you already in line with a kind smile.

Maybe it was the familiarity that came with seeing you so often but he couldn’t help but open his mouth whenever you got close, trying to find the words to introduce himself. Yet he never could, just letting you walk off with your steps echoing the sound of his racing heart. Breaking from his thoughts as you flipped the page of your book, he took notice of something on your arm.

Right on your inner forearm, under where you had rolled up your sleeves, he saw a rather familiar symbol. The tip of two wings were showing along with the top a knife handle, he furrowed his brows and became curious. Beginning to devise a plan.

He stands up softly taps the edge of your table “Excuse me dove…” he says and you turn to look at him and giving a kind smile and letting out a soft hum of curiosity, urging him to continue. “Mind if I take some of your sugar?” He points over at the container on the end of your table “Don’t have any on my table” he clarifies further, wanting to appear smooth.

“oh! Yeah, here!” you reach forward and grab it, handing it to him “I don’t need it” you add, suddenly feeling so nervous your mouth feels the need to move and speak. It’s then that he gets a better look at the tattoo, and he smirked under his mask. It was exactly what he thought it was. Sitting on your forearm was a set of wings erupting from a SAS dagger, a banner below it reading ‘Who dares win’ in black ink.

“Would you look at that…” he mumbles softly, but clear enough for you to hear. You just look at him confused, both at his words and the fact that he hadn’t taken the sugar yet. “You a soldier?” He asks and that’s when you notice his gaze wasn’t on the sugar, but on your forearm.

Your eyes shifts down to your tattoo before lifting it back up to look into his eyes. With a soft smile you respond “Sergeant actually…” a bit of pride in your voice. Then using this opportunity to get to know this mysterious gentleman “I’m guessing you serve?” You inquire with a tilt of your head.

He gives you a curt nod, “Spot on” finally reaching forward and taking the sugar container. He holds onto it for the moment and then lifts his right hand, grabbing his jacket and opening it to show you the inner lining where a patch is sown in. It had that same symbol; the SAS dagger and wings. You chuckle softly and then mumble “What are the chances”

Just as you were about to ask his rank and which task force he is a part of, the server told you that your order was ready and simultaneously he received a phone call. You stand up and then smile over at the gentleman “it was nice to meet you…” pausing afterwards as you realized you don’t know his name.

“Callsign Ghost” he spoke with a light chuckle and reaches out his hand. You take it with a small nod “Viper” smiling as you responded. You then pull your hand back “Until next time I guess?” You ask and after he gives you a short nod in response, he walks back to his seat, takes the call, and leaves. Funnily enough not adding any sugar to his drink.

As time passed you continued to see Ghost quite often around the area, always exchanging hellos, checking up on timely things going on in each others lives. Even feeling comfortable to compliment him on his new watch to which he points out your shirt, saying how he didn’t recognize it. Making the effort to check in on each other if the person seems particularly chipper that day.

You should’ve known by how often you saw him that there was a chance you two lived in the same apartment complex. Yet you never saw him there so it was always just a theory in the back of both your and Ghost’s mind.

The first time he sees your there was a few months after you first met, when he was making his way back to his apartment and saw you at the receptionist desk he couldn’t help but be confused. Then becoming intrigued as he noticed you were arguing frantically with the receptionist.

“Look. Lydia is there any way someone can get started on the treatment today. I can’t stay at a hotel for weeks on end!” His brows furrowed at just how agitated you sounded. Spotting a large suitcase next to you along with a few bags. “Yes! I heard you the first time. Just… Is there any other apartment I can stay in?” You were practically pacing and steaming with rage.

“Then can you bring him out here! Seeing as he’s my fucking landlord!” The receptionist walks off for a moment and Ghost continues to observe. When they come back she says something that makes you scoff. You then lean over the desk and shout into the direction the receptionist had walked off to.

“Thank you so much for your help! I really appreciate how empathetic you are about the whole situation you fucking prick” Before stepping away from the desk and sitting at one of the chairs with your things. He chuckles to himself at your sarcasm, walking up to you when you pull out your phone and curse out in frustration.

“Viper?” Your head lifts and you spot Ghost walking up to you, “Hey… Ghost?” you look at him confused but then give him your best attempt at a smile. “I didn’t know you lived here.” He states and you scoff, shaking your head. “Not anymore. The pipes in the apartment above mine broke so there’s water damage everywhere. The landlord kicked me out while they fix it but didn’t give me anywhere else I could stay… so I’m currently homeless” you pinch the bridge of your nose and grumble.

He chuckled dryly “Well shit. I’m not surprised, that asshole never gives in any effort expect when it comes to drinking…” you can’t help but laugh softly at his joke. Ghost feels a butterfly sensation when he heard it, finding pride in lifting your mood ever so slightly.

“Anyone you can stay with? Or a hotel?” He then asks and you shake your head, looking at him and sighing. “No. No one I’d be willing to live with for weeks. And no hotel I’m willing to spend an unknown amount of money on for an indefinite amount of time”

At his soft hum of understanding you just shrug and there’s a comforting silence for a minute. He simply stood there as you aimlessly search through your phone for nearby hotels. “What if you stayed with me?” His words caught you off guard. Thinking he was joking you chuckle and look at him with furrowed brows and a questioning smile.

“What?” You ask and he shrugs, as if what he suggested wasn’t completely out of the blue and naively bold. “Why not? I mean we both are out most days. No point paying the rent for two apartments when neither of us spend most of our time there.” Your shock and skepticism slowly fades as you consider his words.

“Well… you have a point.” You murmur softly and put your phone in your pocket before putting you hands on your hips, looking down at your bags. “Are you sure?” You ask and he just nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah. Dove, as long as you pay your half and respect my ground rules. It should be just fine. I got a guest room you can use” he explains and you nod at his words.

Then sighing and shrugging dramatically. “Alright! It’s not like I got a better option right now” you smile at him and hear him chuckle dryly. With that he takes one of your bags and throws it over his shoulder, grabbing the handle of your large suitcase and beginning to walk off to the elevator with it. “Come on. The sooner we get there, the sooner you can get settled in” you grin and grab the rest of your things, following after him.

At first you wouldn’t see Ghost that often, having different schedules and both of you immediately heading to your rooms to enjoy your time off. Slowly the two of you ended up seeking out each other’s company. Running into each other in the kitchen and enjoying a nice drink together after a long day.

Roughly two months later, when your apartment was fixed and ready for you to move in again, you spoke to Ghost and both of you agreed it would just be better to stay roommates. Over the next few months getting even closer, ordering food together for dinner, waking each other up in the mornings if one of you were sleeping in, distributing the chores, even going by a first name basis.

-

At this point you’ve been roommates for more than half a year, and it was just as any other day for Ghost. Sitting in a meeting with Captain Price up front telling the team about an upcoming mission. The goal, precautions, sub teams, targets, security, the whole nine yards.

Its then that he’s interrupted by a ringing phone. Ghost immediately cursing to himself as he feels the vibration in his pocket, meeting Price’s unamused gaze. He sighs “Off lieutenant.” To which Ghost nods “On it, sorry Captain” pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning off the ringer.

Not without spotting the unknown number and it’s familiar area code. Right from the area where you and Ghost lived. He noted down in his head to check it out after the meeting.

10 minutes later he walked out of the room, reaching his hand into his pocket and grabbing his phone. Curiosity getting the better of him as he pressed the most recent missed call. Holding the phone to his ear as it rang, leaning against the wall behind him as he waited.

After a few moments there was a click and a kind voice spoke. “Hello, am I speaking with a Simon Riley?” Ghost’s brows immediately furrowed, put at unease by the fact this stranger knew his name. “Who is this?” his tone stern and cautious as he waits for a response. “How’d you get this number?” he asks before the person on the other line could respond.

The voice then clears their throat “Thank you for calling back, this is the Woman’s and Children Highbury Hospital. You were put down as an emergency contact” the name of the hospital immediately registered with him… recognizing it as the hospital just a few blocks down from where you and him lived.

His heart caught in his throat and he stiffened up, now standing up straight looking off into nowhere. “Emergency contact?” he repeated to himself, mumbling so softly he thought the receptionist on the other line hadn’t heard him. Until he spoke.

“Yes sir. By an y/n y/l/n. They were in a severe car collision earlier today and were rushed to the hospital. They had to undergo an emergency surgery and in their files they left you as the emergency contact.” Ghost felt as if he lost the ability to speak. His phone shaking in his hand as the weight of those words sink in.

The voice of the receptionist fading away as he calls out through the phone, trying to get a response or a sign that Ghost was still listening. Realizing that in that moment of time you were lying in a hospital bed, suffering immensely, all alone. Snapping out of his daze as all his attention went to getting to that hospital.

“I’m on my way.” He spoke curtly into the phone, immediately hanging up and rushing to leave the base. Pushing past people without much care as he simply regarded them as obstacles in his way, stopping him from getting to you. As he rushed to the hospital, his mind was a storm he couldn’t manage to contain. Emotions running rampant.

Ghost never fully took the time to reflect on how he felt about you. Only knowing he enjoyed your company and couldn’t help but relax his reserved demeanor around you. Never feeling judged by you, or needing to explain anything about his past or why he acted the way he did.

Yet… as he rushed over to the hospital all he could think about was what he would’ve done if you hadn’t survived the accident. How he would’ve returned home to an empty apartment… fragments of you all around him. The photos you hung up to ‘add more life’ to the walls. Or the carpet you bought for an outrageous price just because ‘the woman who made it was so nice’.

How he would’ve never been able to share another drink with you… or argue about takeout ever again… never heard you singing to yourself while doing the chores. All those things that lifted his mood, he would’ve lost them all. If he had lost you… his closest friend and roommate.

His mind continued to fall down that rabbit hole of ‘what if’ and the more upset he got at the idea of you not longer being around, the more he realized just how much you meant to him.

Considering the idea that maybe he loved you more than a friend… cared for you so much that the mere idea of you being in pain made his knees weak. And the idea of you no longer being around had his body about ready to collapse in on itself.

How he managed to make it to the hospital without breaking down, he wasn’t quite sure. As he bursts through the doors he ignores the judgmental glances he gets. Rushing up to the receptionist desk in the lobby, the man behind it terrified at first at the sight of Ghost, still in his uniform and wearing his skull mask, rushing at him.

Ghosts hand gripped at the counter “Which room is y/n y/l/n in?!” although his voice was low and gruff the softness and worry behind it was enough for the receptionist to regain his focus. Eyes blinking and clearing his throat as he asks “A-and who are you sir?” looking at his screen as he awaits his response.

“Gho-…. Simon. Riley” he corrected watching the receptionist double check the information. “The emergency contact” he clarifies further, tapping his fingers anxiously and impatiently on the desk as he looks around, seeing people on crutches, injured, and bleeding. Images of you in that state making him close his eyes, just needing to see you. Alive and breathing.

The receptionist then nods his head and looks up at him again. “They’re in room 32 on the third floor, but I’ll warn you they-“ before he could finish his statement Ghost mumbled a thank you and was bolting down the hall. Straight past the elevator and rushing up the stairs skipping over steps with pounding footsteps.

Eyes spotting the room number at the end of the hall, and just as he was a foot away from the door, mere meters away from you… a doctor opened it and walked out. She looked up and Ghost halted to a stop as to not run into her.

“Ah. You must be Simon” giving him a sympathetic smile. Ghost could feel his heart pounding and his eyes kept flitting to the door “Y-yeah” he says quickly before trying to move past the doctor and through the door. Surprised when she steps in front of him blocking his path.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be able to see them in a moment” he looked at her with disbelief, eyes wide… how dare she keep him from you for a second longer. She then speaks before he can protest “I just want to warn you of the state they’re in…” and with those words he thinks better than to just burst in through the door.

Grumbling under his breath but turning his gaze back to the doctor, letting her know he was listening. She continued “They’re alive but asleep at the moment” just those two first words enough to make his shoulders relax, and he swore his vision went hazy at the relief that flooded through him.

“They are, however, suffering from major bruising, multiple broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and a broken foot” her face sympathetic as she spoke, gauging his reaction. With every diagnosis his heart twisted that little bit more. Repeating to himself in his mind ‘At least they’re alive. At least they’re still here’ like a mantra, trying to focus on the ever so slight silver lining.

‘At least it’s not too late’

The doctor then finally steps aside, calmly advising him “I recommend you take a deep breath. They’re very emotionally vulnerable right now and we want to avoid stressing them out as much as possible” Ghost was more than ready to ignore that advice but at the thought of stressing you out, and remembering what he’s learned about how important it is not to panic in high stress situations, he pauses and gives a slight nod.

The doctor gives one final nod in return and then leaves. Simon takes a deep breath and with a shaking hand reaches for the doorknob. Gripping it and just holding it for a few seconds before finally finding the strength to turn it and walk inside.

There you were… lying practically lifeless on the hospital bed. Only sign of life the beeping of the heart monitor. Covered in white bandages which contrasted the deep purple bruises across your skin. His eyes continued to trace over your sleeping figure, noting the few gashes in your skin, the one on your calf even decorated with stitching.

You looked awful… it made him sick and he almost went looking for a trash can as he felt vomit threaten to make its way up his throat. He steps closer, moving to kneel on the floor next to the bed, eyes welling up in joy as he finally sees you… finally has proof that he didn’t lose you.

Eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest and in the silence of the room… in the steady beeping of the monitor… he was finally able to organize his thoughts. Questioning himself on why he felt his world shatter when the hospital called him, why he was crying underneath his mask at the sight of you, why he could physically feel pain in his chest.

Then his eyes drifted up to your face, and even with the cuts and bruises on your face you still made his heart skip. He found himself tracing your every feature with his gaze, as if trying to map it out in his head. He’s never been this close to you before and in this moment he realized why… he couldn’t handle being this close to you.

It was as if he could feel his body physically melt next to you, hand reaching for yours before gently holding it, hoping it would keep him from dissolving into a puddle. Cursing to himself he rested his forehead against your hand and closed his eyes.

He loved you. Simon Riley really fucking loved you.

Never fully considering it before today… too afraid to even think about his feelings towards you. Yet now he regretted every day he didn’t tell you he loved you. Didn’t tell you how much you meant to him. This felt like another chance for him.

Another chance for him to share his true feelings with you because he just couldn’t lose you. Especially not without you knowing how much he loved you first. How he’d be willing to take every single one of your wounds on as his own just so you don’t have to suffer like this.

You had to know. He had to tell you before it was too late. He would wait by your bed for days on end, never once letting go of you, until you woke up. He wouldn’t let anyone or anything drag you away from him, not again. Not without a fight.

[tearfallpixie]

Music of My Soul - Chapter 1: Step Up, Step In

Here's the first chapter of my new Chris x OC x Ricky story. I hope you enjoy it.

Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999

@lyschko666 @vinyardmauro @skulliecadaver-blog @some-daniela @latenightmusiclover @rye14-blog1 @somewhere-diamond @Shilohrosechicken @abiomens @awkwardalex @rumoured-whispers @miss570

“Our guitarist Ricky is out for the tour due to a family emergency. So I was hoping maybe you would step in. I’ve watched your content for ages and you are amazing on the guitar and keyboard. Plus I think your energy would mesh perfectly with the rest of the crew.” Chris begged. The motionless singer had asked me to get coffee with him via tiktok messenger out of the blue when we had never talked before so it was a bit of a shock to me.

“Why me? Couldn't one of your techs stand in?” I asked. I had never performed in front of people live before so I was honestly terrified. All of my work was done behind the camera.

“None of them feel comfortable doing so. This is one of our biggest tours to date.” I took a deep breath and groaned, looking up into his brown eyes.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” I relented, twirling my cup of coffee and watching the cream mix into the brown juice below.

“Dakota grace you are my fucking hero.” Chris let out a sigh of relief. He leaned across our table and kissed my cheek, making me blush.

“Yeah, whatever. Can I meet Ricky to talk about his parts before he leaves?” I wondered.

“Unfortunately He’s already left, but both his guitar and singing parts are pretty easy so you should be fine. Ryan or Justin can help you practice them of you need.” 

“Singing what now?” I sputtered.

“Did I not mention that?” He grinned innocently.

“Oh, you are so lucky you are cute, Christopher Cerulli.” I scowled. 

~~~~

“Guys this is Dakota. She’s going to be Ricky for this tour.” Chris introduced me the next day at the warehouse.

“Hey! I’m Ryan. I used to be the second guitar so if you need any assistance on his parts let me know.” I shook Ryans hand and smile.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. I have played your guys songs before but its going to be a whole different world playing them live in front of people.” I mumbled.

“You do it on Tiktok.” 

“That's different. I can edit my mistakes out. Live, I can't.” 

“Everyone gets nervous for their first live performance. I’m sure you'll do fantastic. I’m Justin. Resident Bassist.” He had bright green hair that honestly looked amazing on him.

“It’s wonderful to meet you all.” I murmured softly. Vinny introduced himself next followed by some of the rest of the crew before we decided to start rehearsals.

“Ricky said you can use his guitars if need be.” Chris told me, pointing to where they were stored. I nodded my thanks and went over to look at them. They were beautiful and really well kept, not a scratch in sight. I ran my hand down the neck of one before pulling it off the rack and dropping the strap over my shoulder. It hung low because Ricky must have been bigger than me so I struggled to adjust the straps.

“Here let me help.” A man with curly brown hair said. “I’m Matt. I’ll be your guitar tech for the tour.” He introduced himself as he helped me size the guitar.

“Hi. I’m Dakota. Nice to meet you. And thanks.”

“You’re nervous.” It was a statement.

“Just a little. I’ll get over it though.” He grinned and shrugged.

“Plus to be pulled into a massive band like this is overwhelming sometimes.” He smirked. “Ricky starts on the right side of the stage over there. Just stay out of the way of the other members and move around the stage and you should be fine.” I nodded and stepped over to where he directed me. The rest of the afternoon was spent teaching me the track and movements on stage as well as running and rerunning rough patches to clear them up. 

“That was amazing Koda. Your voice is incredible.” Chris gushed, making me blush. 

“Thanks.” I mumbled. 

“She puts Ricky's voice to shame.” Vinny grinned. I shook my head and turned away.

“Oh, hell no. I’ve listened to your stuff. I don't compare to him in the slightest.” I protested. 

“Well whatever that was, you were a natural.” Ryan agreed with Vinny.

“Ok, ok. I’m leaving before I start to believe you.” I laughed. 

“Rehearsals tomorrow at 8am.” Chris called after me.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” 

~~~~

“It’s big.” I mumbled. I was shoulder to shoulder with Chris who had picked me up that morning. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

“Why is it so big?” 

“Well it has to accommodate 13 people.” I continued to stand there gaping at it until Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.

“You’ll bunk with me in the back. Its quieter there.” I let out a breath of relief and followed him back to drop our bags off.

“Thank you for this opportunity Chris. I don't think I ever said that.” 

“No worries. I hoped you would say yes. You are incredible.” He led me back up to the front and we helped unpack the food and supplies as everyone filed into the bus.

~~~~

“Someone’s crushing.” I snapped my gaze away from Chris sitting on the couch where he was working on a project to see Bryan from Knocked Loose approaching me. He plopped down on the seat next to mine and pressed his shoulder against mine. “Don't worry. I won't tell.” I looked back at Chris and smiled a little. He looked insanely hot lost in his own little world.

“It’s whatever. I won't let anything happen while on tour anyway.” I reached over and stole one of his french fries making him start swatting at me. I leapt up and tried to escape his assault to no avail as he chased me and wrapped his arms around my waist. We both burst out laughing.

“Looser.” I mumbled affectionately. I didn't see Bryan as more than a brother but having someone to let loose with like that was nice. I noticed Chris was watching us and had a frown on his face but I brushed it off. I could be friends with whoever I wanted.

[biaswreckme]

willow | seongjoong

"Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind" or Pirate Captain Kim Hongjoong meets witch Park Seonghwa.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Hongjoong/Seonghwa

Member: Hongjoong, Seonghwa

Word count: 722 words

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe (Fantasy), Romance, Fluff

Rating: nc-17

Triggers/Warnings: implied sexual content (very light, tagging and rating it nc-17 just to be safe), mention of people bullying Seonghwa

You can read it on: AO3

Seonghwa could still vividly remember to this day the first time that the pirate Captain had stopped by the small village. He had been in the nearby woods, gathering some herbs, when the strange ship descended from the sky and caused a ripple in the water below the decks. He had only observed from afar as a peculiar and colorful crew descended onto land, his eyes almost straining to follow who he would later learn was Captain’s confident movements. He didn’t investigate why or for how long they would be staying in the village, but he was glad that for once the attention would not be on him for a while. He could finally just be for a few days, not having to worry if that would be the day they decided to burn him at a stake. 

He had certainly not been expecting a knock on his door a couple of days later, for the people usually avoided him at all costs, sometimes preferring to perish instead of seeking his aid. Seonghwa opened his front door just enough for him to see who was on the other side yet at the same time having enough leverage in case he needed to protect himself.

“So I hear you’re a witch, is that true?” the man who had knocked asked without any hesitation.

Seonghwa just blinked in response, fingers clenching on the wood, and the man smiled at him, blonde hair ruffling with the late afternoon breeze. 

“Good, nice to meet you, I’m Captain Kim Hongjoong.”

It turns out that the Captain was in need of some medicinal herbs to keep on the ship for emergencies, but, to Seonghwa’s ignorance, all the other reasons he gave for the visits were made up. Hongjoong prided himself in being a good and focused leader, but there was something about this tall handsome man with dark long hair and sad eyes that almost seemed to scream loneliness that captivated his attention. And so it took no time at all until Seonhwa learned all about the crew of the Illusion, the strange ship that sailed the seas and the skies, the Captain’s presence in his home a curious constant in the week they spent on land. 

Seven days and they were gone, and Seonghwa was back to being alone, heart aching so painfully at knowing company and having lost it.

Until the ship rolled in again, that is.

The Illusion never stayed long in the village, and it was always uncertain when they would dock, but Seonghwa learned to be hopeful instead of just hollow, anticipating the Captain’s companionship - and occasionally one or two of the crew who accompanied him. The crew always stayed at the small inn by the docks, and their repeated visits to the village - and their spending - had people stop bothering Seonghwa. He could get used to not having rocks thrown at him whenever he strayed too far from his small cottage or dirty looks and whispers thrown in his direction (he knew people still talked and despised him, but at least they were hiding it better). 

With constancy came intimacy and feelings foreign to both of them. Their lips were tentative the first time they touched, Hongjoong holding dearly onto Seonghwa’s shivering frame as their mouths pressed against each other, shaky breaths mingling with smiles and tears of happiness. And soon Hongjoong would start sneaking out of the inn and into the cottage, huddling into Seonghwa’s warmth under the covers. The Captain found it fascinating how the other man would shiver whenever bare skin met bare skin. Fingers traced old and new scars, learning each other’s bodies like their own, and stories were shared under the blessing of the moonlight. And more than once Hongjoong was caught by one of his crew going back late in the morning, the minutes and hours passing by without care whenever they were together. 

But this time, it was different. There was a sense of urgency to everything, for the crew of the Illusion would set sail to a place too far to be sure they would be able to come back any time that could be considered soon. The situation was explained, and each breath and touch shared had the taste of farewell. To Seonghwa, every second was filled with desperation, and he could feel the distant and now unfamiliar loneliness wanting to seep into his veins, until he decided to wreck his own plans - or lack thereof. He had never imagined leaving his cottage, but home was now Hongjoong. 

There would be no looking back.

“Take my hand, Seonghwa.”

“Wherever you stray, I’ll follow.”

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The King and I

Chapter Five: The Monarch of Sweden

Featuring King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden

During an official visit to IEA headquarters, King Carl XVI Gustaf led a high-level delegation of officials, academics and business leaders taking part in a roundtable meeting on the emerging global energy crisis and the importance of clean energy technologies with myself and other senior figures from the Agency. The day before the visit, my boss came to talk to me, wanting me to work my magic and get this proposal through. She knows I’d do what even it takes to get the deal done, even sleep with clients.

I'm a 29-year-old man, blonde-haired with supermodel looks. My athletic body with my tight ass, 8' cock, a smile that could light up a room and seductive eyes, I could make just about any man mine. 

But the married, 77-year-old monarchy in Sweden?  

Well, I wasn't sure of that. But I just didn't know how to say "no thank you" to this lady. She knows how to nudge people into doing things her way.

By the next day, all I was thinking about was King Carl. I was picturing him with his multiple castles, gleaming medals, and plenty of wealth, looking down on the common folks. I hoped that was not the case, but suddenly, I wasn't too excited about my assignment. Yet that afternoon, I knocked on the conference room door where the king waited.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty. I'm James Avery, I'll be presenting the company's proposal."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Avery. How nice to meet you. Do please get started." Said the very imposing man sitting at the conference table.

He looked handsome. Silver hair with a receding hairline and a slender build. His eyes were friendly and warm yet enigmatic. Like there was more to him than he was willing to reveal. I was getting interested in him again, until I remembered he was straight. I endeavored in vain with the plan, going over our proposal to the impeccably groomed, white-haired man who now looked intently at me.

It almost felt like he was checking me out, I thought to myself. I tried to keep myself from smiling as I was entertaining that idea. Just then, I decided that I might just have some fun with him. I always had a thing for older guys.

I dropped some of my paperwork and I made sure to bend down with ass in his direction so he could notice it. I peeked behind and yep, he was staring dead at it. He even smiled at me as he settled into his leather chair.

I could almost see the gears in his head. Was I flirting with him or was it all in his head? I decided to press on, "Your Majesty, I'm glad I was able to speak to you. I can't stress how important it is to have a back door… I mean an open-door policy."

I watched carefully as I "mistakenly" said, "back door" and saw all I needed to see as he turned slightly in his chair, and I saw his bulge. I had him right where I wanted him as he sat there, not knowing what to do next.

I walked over to him and asked, "Is there something I can do to ease your concerns on our proposal?"

His face turned red and just shook his head as if there was nothing I could do. But I knew what was going on in his head. He's debating on wanting to fuck me or not.

We sat there for an awkward minute as he had his internal struggle, so I chose to take things to next level.

"When was the last time you had your cock sucked, Your Majesty?" He didn't budge as I caught him off guard. His lower lip seemed to quiver a bit as if words were trying to be formed, but my now sexual presence was suffocating them.

"Does your wife take good care of you, Your Majesty? Does she suck your cock every night? Does she make you feel good?" I whispered, looking into his eyes.

He slowly shook his head no as I kneeled in front of him.

"May I Your Majesty?" I asked licking my lips.

With his lips still quivering, he nodded yes as I slid my hands up and down his legs. Putting on my most sincere face, I thanked him while unbuckling his belt so I could undo his slacks. Reaching into his underwear, I was rewarded with a nice cock. It was about 8 inches, thick, veiny, and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, taking in his musky smell as he shuddered in pleasure. It felt so erotic.

His Majesty gripped the arms of his leather chair as I slid my lips over his manhood and went to work. I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down. Looking up to see his glazed over eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him. He's going to agree with the deal.

I was going to milk this old king and leave him wanting more, sucking him off for everything it was worth. My head bobbed as his moans got louder and louder. Eventually, he built enough courage to lay a hand on my shoulder as my hands slipped under his ass so I could take him deeper.

Next thing I knew, he grabbed me behind the head, pulling my face toward his crotch, and forcing his cock down my throat. I managed to take inch after inch of his thick dick down my throat until my lips were pressed against his pubic hairs. I let his cock hit the back of my throat a couple times before I released his cock from my mouth with a gasp and I jerked him off so I could catch my breath.

I was feeling really slutty, with one thought on my mind as I let his cock free of my mouth again and spat on it to lube it more. I’ve never been fucked by a king, and I wanted Carl to fuck me.

“Fuck me!” I told him, but not waiting for his answer as I stood up and jerked my pants and boxer shorts down, bent over the conference table, jetting my butt in his direction.

His Majesty didn’t answer, he just looked at his cock and then over at me. I guess the sight of my ass overcame me not being a woman because the old king got behind me, pausing for a moment to spit in his hand.  

A moment later I felt his slippery dick head pressing against my asshole. I relaxed as best as I could and gasped as the head pushed past the ring of muscle and into me, working the whole 8" into me till his hips pressed against my ass. I was in heaven having my hole stretched by a hard cock, feeling his heartbeat inside me though his pulsing manhood.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” The old king said almost angrily as he gripped my hips firmly and began to stroke in and out of me, slowly at first. He’d pull out till the head almost slipped out then thrust it smoothly back in, each entry into me I gasped out loud.

Eventually, his rhythm began to pick up speed and he grunted with pleasure. The smell of musk and sex filled my senses, and it was intoxicating.

As if knowing someone would come in soon or wanting to blow his load, His Majesty pumped into me faster and harder forcing more moans and gasps from me.

"GOD YES! Fuck me Your Majesty, Fuck me!"

That spurred him on as he thrust fully into me digging his fingers into my hips and grunted holding himself deep in me.

He began spraying my insides with his hot royal seed. I could feel it in me and knowing that I was being breed by the king of Sweden had me cumming on the floor. Carl was panting as if he'd just ran a marathon as quickly put himself away.

Later, the king and his delegation agreed with our proposal, helping us deal with global energy crisis and make up a lot of money in the process. And King Carl gave his personal number to keep him up to date with our progress.  

I wondered if he even still had sex with his wife. Oh well, it didn't matter. It would be much better if they didn't. I've found that men will do almost anything for sex. Especially really good sex.

As they left, I secretly told His Majesty, "I’ll personally keep you updated Yor Majesty…"

With that, he left smiling. Another satisfied customer.